The Turquoise Goddess – Cho Oyu Part 2

Six days it snowed. This meant we were camp bound for this length of time. Life became mundane, revolving around digging the tents out of freshly fallen snow, eating, playing Scrabble and re-reading books. As many climbers know base camp life after a while of living at high altitudes revolves around how you and your friends are feeling with the altitude, what there is to eat and what colour your pee is! The food and menu choice over time became worse and less. For example lunch was either pilchards or tuna depending on the day. Heavily spiced yak meat for dinner and greenish coloured custard for dessert led ultimately to a night of heartburn for me. The snow finally abated, and we had a huge snow ball fight with a large Chinese climbing team who were camped next to us. I didn’t think I was too good with a cricket ball at school, but my over arm with a snow ball was accurate and deadly, but we were heavily out numbered and all of use took many hits. Even now I can sort of feel a tingle where a snow ball hit me straight on the ear; ouch! The ‘fight’ got out of hand as some of the guys tried to take the Chinese team’s flag, which was proudly flying from their mess tent. A thermos flask was broken, and the ‘enemy’ tried to kidnap one of our best snow ball throwers. I thought it was time to disappear into the mess tent and drink some tea.

Later in the mess tent we discussed summit teams and strategy. I was fired up after the success of going from ABC to Camp II, but again opted to go in the second summit team. I was attempting the summit without oxygen and in the second team another two were doing the same. The rest in the second team, and the first summit team were on oxygen. Nobody could go straight away as there was a lot of loose snow above Camp II and it had to avalanche to become safe.

During the day, infrequently there was a loud crack, like a gun going off, and we all looked around to see which mountain face was avalanching. The summit teams couldn’t advance for a few days, but those who hadn’t got to Camp I or Camp II could at least go to these Camps to acclimatise and leave gear. The two Steves, went up to Camp I along with a few others.

That night after dinner we got the radio call ‘Steves’ got cerebral oedema, over’. A deathly silence came over all of us in the mess tent. This of could can be fatal and death can ensue very swiftly if the casualty cannot descend to lower altitudes. It was night and very dark, descent down the scree was out of the question, all ‘paramedic Steve’ could do was administer a cocktail of Nifedipene, Dexamethezone and Acetazolamide (Diamox). Apparently one half of his body was in paralysis and he was pretty ‘out of it’. ‘Paramedic Steve’ stayed up all night with him. All of us at ABC felt helpless, but at least he was with the best medically trained person in our team. I perhaps felt worse than the others after all the two Steves and me came together and climbed together several times before.

After an uneasy restless night, I radioed up to ‘paramedic Steve’, ‘Steve’s a lot better and we’re getting him down right away over’ was the reply to my radio call. I was relieved. It seemed like most of the day before they finally made it into ABC. It was good to see them both, but I don’t know which one looked the more tired. I think ‘paramedic Steve’ had been beside himself with worry and of course had been up all night. We put Steve into his tent wrapped him in his sleeping bags and brought regular cups of tea and litres of hot ‘tang’ – tang, being a fruity flavoured sugar powder to make water taste of orange or peach etc.

It had been a full nine days since I had been up at Camp II. The weather had settled, Steve was better and convalescing, ‘paramedic’ Steve had decided with all the excitement of looking after everyone and especially Steve he would go no further with his summit attempt. I packed my bag in readiness to set off in the morning on my summit attempt. Around 10.30 am there was a loud cracking noise reverberating around the mountains, I thought at first it was another avalanche, but soon realised that all people at ABC were looking over to the Nangpa La pass. There was a long line people in the snow who in the distance were just black dots going at speed over the pass. It took a while to realise that somewhere there were soldiers firing semi automatic weapons at the line of people, hence the loud cracking noise. I don’t think any of us really knew what was going on. It was shocking and somehow surreal.

Later I walked up the moraine up to the infamous scree slope. It seemed to take forever to get up the scree this time, but finally I got into Camp I. Some of the team were already there and a few came in after me. We each had a tent to ourselves and conversations were had by shouting through them. There was an impressive sunset and the snow and ice were coloured with many hues or red and orange. As it got dark I did my best to get comfortable in my sleeping bag. A while later it got cold and it was the first time on the whole expedition.

 I was cold in the night. It was an uncomfortable night, shivering, and with the fact that the snow beneath the ground sheet had melted into a sherpa sized body shape which I didn’t fit. In the morning I made at hot drink had something to eat and geared up. I chatted to some other team members - Martin, Michael, and we all set off in good time. I left Camp I and ascended the steep snow slopes, a carabiner linking me to the fixed line, the morning clear and crisp and the sun rising higher in the sky began to warm everything up. Putting my foot into one of the many large pigeon hole steps, I thought ‘that feels funny?’ when I didn’t hear the familiar crunching sound of a crampon going through the compacted now. I looked down and there was no crampon on my left boot. I looked behind me and about ten yards down the slope was my crampon. I went and retrieved it, cursing that I had to climb down to climb back up, figuring that perhaps I didn’t put the crampon on properly in the morning cold. I thought nothing of it until a few hours later I approached the first ice wall, suddenly on fairly flat ground the crampon was off again. I dropped my pack, and sat on it to examine the crampon. The heel clip fell to the snow as I looked over the crampon. The metal flanges had sheared off and the heel clip could not longer be kept in place. I was now in a situation and in a quandary. I felt I could climb the ice wall and the one beyond, but this would create new problems. Did I go up or did I go down? Firstly I didn’t know the terrain above Camp II and how necessary crampons would be, Secondly I thought I could borrow a pair of crampons from our first summit team, who we would ultimately met on their way down. The problem with the first option was how necessary crampon would be in descent off the summit back to Camp II and to get back down the ice wall? and this question led into how I might end up putting one of the first summit team members in jeopardy in their own descent. I procrastinated over what to do, then remembered that I had heard someone saying that there was a spare pair of crampons at Camp I. This was my best option. Looking at my watch I realised that by the time I got back to Camp I, realistically it would be too late to ascend to Camp II that day, at least in the daylight and the warmth of the sun.

I descended, still clipped into the fixed line, the trouble was that in descent down the steep icy slopes, the pressure on my right leg,(which had the boot with a crampon on) was very painful. I had to stop the force of gravity pulling me and my pack down. My foot began to ache and every joint in the right leg as it always had to be placed in front of my left. A sort of stumbled into our camp area in Camp I and sat down in my tent, to recover from the effort, my right foot seemed to be hot with pain. After I got my breath back, I began to search for the elusive spare pair of crampons in the jumble of stored gear in the storage tent. I could not find them as much as I tried, it began to dawn on me that the crampons weren’t there. I was pretty dismayed and sat down on a pile of kit to evaluate my situation, still my foot burnt. This situation was now that I was not at Camp II, not at ABC and not where I should be on the mountain. I looked for a radio to contact ABC. I looked in the four team tents and the storage tent to no avail. Someone must have taken it up to Camp II. Despite it being mid afternoon, I was now unaccounted for on the mountain. My options were to stay here at Camp I and try for Camp II the next day, but this would put me one day behind my summit team mates, and still with only one crampon, however I was unaccounted for on the mountain with no way of contacting ABC. Or my alternative was to return to ABC. Whether the decision was right or wrong, I decided to return to ABC. I didn’t want the team members at ABC worrying over where I was and going to the trouble of sending up a search party, only to find me with a cup of tea in my hand in my tent at Camp I.

 I packed my kit and ‘paramedic’ Steve’s kit (sleeping bag, kip mat and a few bits and pieces) to clear Camp I of our equipment. I took my big Sportiva Olympus Mons boots off to change into my hiking boots, which are more suited to running the scree slopes and my right foot burnt. I took off the liner boot and my socks to find one of my toes swollen black and red, I thought it was frost bite at first, but it was something else I touched the toe and a sharp shooting pain went up my foot. I realised that somehow I had fractured my toe. Probably by the tension or force exerted on this foot in descent. This really did mean the end of any hopes of trying for the summit. I gingerly descended the snow covered scree, the straps of my extra heavy pack pinching the nerves in my shoulders. Every now and then I stubbed my toe and the shooting pain went up my foot. It took a fair while to get down the scree, but at last I was down and faced the easier prospect of the twisting moraine path, which at least we fairly level by comparison. Over the next three hours I limped back to ABC. Where I was greeted by the two Steves and the base camp team members. I was extremely disappointed by the situation I had ended up in, but the team congratulated me for ‘self rescuing’ and being ‘self reliant’ they had been watching me through a telescope as I struggled down from the ice wall to Camp I.

To this day I don’t know whether I made the right decision, I think it was right at the time, and I shouldn’t postulate over the course of events. I got to 7,200 metres out of 8,201 metres, a personal high point, which I should be pleased with and my actions perhaps seem more justified now, they were recognised by team members and expedition leaders at ABC and my actions of ‘self rescue’ and ‘self reliance’ have led to me being invited as one of only two British climbers on a closed expedition to climb Everest via the north ridge in 2008.

 

                  

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