Showing posts with label experience. Show all posts
Showing posts with label experience. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 13, 2018

Post Everest Recap: Part #2 (of 3) - The Summit Push

The second part of a three part summary contains all the information worthy of print and public consumption.  If you missed Part 1, check it out before reading further.

The Summit Push

After nearly a month waiting, walking, and wondering about our summit window, the day finally arrived when we would head up.  That day?  May 13th.  Up to this point, we had only ventured up the mountain - that is above Advanced Basecamp (ABC) - for 3 days.  Yes, we come to these huge mountains to mostly wait around at lower altitudes and get accustomed to the thin air.  May 13th came after a three day respite in a Tibetan town called Tingri.  During that rest, we ate and ate and ate until we couldn't eat any more.  Brendan's fluency in Chinese and Chinese cuisine enabled us to eat such fine delicacies as "Big Plate Chicken," Beijing Hotpot, and other delights.
Hotpot meal beat most meals we had at basecamp
Once we returned from our "low" altitude rest (at 3000m or 10,000 feet), we knew the summit push was all that was left to our climb.  That push involved another trip up the Rombuk moraine from Chinese Basecamp (CBC; 5200m or 17,000 feet) to Interim Basecamp (IBC; 5800m or 19,000 feet) and then to Advance Basecamp (ABC; 6400m or 21,000 feet).  As I mentioned before, I was not looking forward to that part but I knew it was a necessary step to getting to our climb.  We all found the trek to those camps quite easy this last time around.  The previous trips required a fair effort over 5 to 6 hours; this last push required only 3.5 hours each so we all felt pretty good.  Again, Brendan helped me pace myself and not deplete my energy needed for our summit push.  Thanks to him, we were both relaxed and rested for the trek into ABC.  Once we got to ABC, we knew we had a rest period.  Just to give you some perspective for timing, we left CBC for IBC (5.4 miles) on May 13th; left IBC for ABC (4.4 miles) on May 14th; and then rested at ABC on May 15th and headed up the mountain for the real push on May 16th.  Our goal was to summit on May 19th because the weather window looked perfect for us on that day.

The reason we rested for a full day at ABC was two-fold.  First, we all needed to be as strong as possible.  Resting for that day allowed us to eat, drink, and rest.  Most of us were pretty anxious to get going but the rest helped.  Second, the Sherpa just returned from the higher camps and they needed to rest.  Those guys do a tremendous amount of work and if they were tired from their prior work, summit day would be more dangerous - even more than it already is with a rested team.  We needed everyone rested before we climbed higher - the extra day allowed us all to rest and recuperate.

The Real Push Begins!

We were all anxious to get going.  The summit push is what we long for on all mountains and Everest just kept us waiting longer than any mountain I climbed before.  Our time was here!  We headed out right after breakfast on May 16th - about 10:00am.  Grant, Magnus, and I headed out first.

Almost to crampon point!  Photo makes me sad.  My beloved fleece was lost on the climb (more on that point later).  I'll miss my friend.  We spent many days together.  I hope he finds a good home.
My plan was to take it easy so leaving early allowed me to pace myself up to crampon point (about a 45 minute walk uphill from our camp at ABC) before the real climb starts.  It was sunny and warm when we took off despite the fact that it snowed the night before.  Most of the trail from our ABC camp to crampon point was obscured by the dusting of 2" of new snow.  The going was easy and I made it even easier by just taking my time.  Brendan's voice was constantly in my head...."take it easy."  Perhaps that was Glenn Frey of the Eagles.  I don't know...but it sure sounded like Brendan.

Our goal was to get to the North Col (Camp 1) - a total distance of 1.2 miles - without expending too much effort.  We made it in 6.5 hours and I was beat!  The heat really took it out of me.  My legs felt fine; my breathing was not terribly labored, but I simply overheated and couldn't cool down.  Thinking back, the reason I chose to climb from the North side was because it was way cooler than the South (Nepal) side but this year proved that you cannot count on Everest weather ever being normal.  Every time we climbed to the North Col, I found myself overheating with just a tech shirt and a fleece top.  I was worried when I reached the North Col.  Being that tired meant that my body would work overtime to recover from the effort.  I needed to be fresh for each of these climbs because summit day would require a huge effort.  So our first leg didn't go so well for me.

Brendan and I had a great night at the North Col.  We melted snow, boiled water, ate some fine meals (Brendan ate that disgusting Mountain House stuff while I enjoyed a wonderful bowl of Chinese noodles).  It seemed we both shook off that first long day pretty quickly.

The heat killed me going up to the North Col.  See the bloodshot eyes?

Oh yeah!  Shrimp flavored noodles.  Mmmm....mmmm...good.

Brendan not looking psyched.  Not sure why.  We were tired but excited.
I think we both slept pretty well despite the fact that we were so excited to get up, get down, and celebrate.  One step at a time.  We just completed the first leg of the climb from ABC to the North Col.   Tomorrow, we head for new ground!

The Unexplored Part of the Mountain (Above the North Col)

We woke up after a reasonable night sleep feeling energized and ready for the huge snow slope outside the North Col.  That snow slope separated Camps 1 and 2 so there was no avoiding the big day of walking up a huge snowy field.  Our previous exposure to the mountain was limited to only Camp 1 (the North Col) and we never had a chance to climb above due to the weather.  Today (May 17th) was the first day of our exposure to the higher camps.  Camp 2 was objective today and we headed off at about 10am - just after porridge and some eggs.  I lost my taste for porridge a while ago and just couldn't muster the enthusiasm for it any longer.  The eggs I could tolerate to a degree and I knew I would need to eat something before we headed out.  I ate, Brendan ate (porridge if I recall correctly), and we both suited up to leave. 

My setup - finally got it going after some delays.  Boy was I unprepared this morning!

Oxygen Fiasco

Today was our first day using oxygen and we were hardly prepared - at least I wasn't.  We spent about 5 minutes setting up our masks prior to this day.  The morning required us to suit up quickly and head out with all our gear functional.  I should have spent more time getting used to the setup but I was preoccupied with getting my other gear in order.  Some of us - perhaps me mostly - were in a mad scramble to get going.  Everything seemed to go wrong on this morning.  My mask leaked air and made hissing noises that seemed like most of the oxygen was going into the atmosphere rather than in my lungs.  I had a crappy mask for sure but my poor preparation made it impossible for me to figure out the oxygen setup.  Plain and simple, I really messed up by not setting up my oxygen kit before and for relying upon SummitClimb's masks.  The TopOut folks never returned my email or phone messages so I didn't have that option from the start.  The other vendors didn't have any distributors in the US so I had nobody to contact.  Yeah, it was my fault for relying on subpar equipment but I figured oxygen would not be a limiting factor in my climb.  Read on!

Gelje and the rest of the team ready to go.  Me?  Still futzing about with my oxygen kit.  Note the snow slope in the background.  That was our day's objective.  Camp 2 was at the top of the snow slope.

Missing Gear

Once we got going, I realized I was missing my ice axe.  In my fog, I thought I asked Brendan to hook it to my ice axe loop and fix it to my pack.  Apparently I never asked him and my ice axe remained at Camp 1 - stuck in the snow next to a tent.  We headed up the snow slope steadily gaining on an Indian team of youngsters who were clearly untrained with moving in the mountains.  These "kids" (probably in the mid to upper 20's) were taking about 15 really big and fast steps up the steep snow slope and then collapsing exhausted from the effort.  Meanwhile, we hiked up at a slow and steady pace.  We all quickly closed in on these novice climbers when they kept taking breaks on the route - remaining clipped into the fixed rope and laying prostrate on the ground gasping for breath.  OK, perhaps that is a slight exaggeration but it was pretty close to how they were acting.  We were even passed by several lower on the hill and then passed them as we neared the top of the slope.  The only difference between us and them was that we got to Camp 2 without wearing ourselves out; them?  They were beat with bloodshot eyes and no ability to recover from that monster effort up the snow slope.  I sure hope they got down safely.  No way did they summit.

One of the Indian "runners" right ahead of me.  I lead out our pack despite the fact that I was a total mess in the morning and completely disorganized.

Camp 2 (7600m / 25,000 feet)


When we arrived in Camp 2, I was one of the first climbers to reach camp but had no idea where our tents might be located.  Instead of meandering in camp and potentially climbing above our campsite, I sat down and waited for our Sherpa to arrive.  Wasted energy at Camp 2 would be...well, a waste.  I waited while Jangbu brought up the rear of our group.  Once he and Gelje got into camp, they sorted things out and we were in business.  By this time, I was beat.  I didn't expend too much energy but I did realize that the day was harder than I thought.  Climbing for much longer would have put me in a severely depleted state and I wasn't confident that I could recover quickly enough to make our next camp climb an easy one.  That fatigue also brought on some grumpiness.  I was ticked off that I had to climb all the way to the top of the camp - perhaps another 50m vertical - to get to the tent Brendan selected.  The selection was not entirely Brendan's doing and I knew that but still my emotions were getting the best of me.  Instead of climbing into the tent and being a real jerk, I decided to sit outside, take a few pictures, and cool off.  The time by myself helped a ton.  I finally

Not sure how I mustered a smile.  It is 4:35pm and I was shaking off my grumpiness.  Still, I was happy we made it to Camp 2 in one piece and relatively unscathed.
Olivia and I were enjoying our time at Camp 2.
Brothers in arms!  Well, at least brothers on the mountain.  We were doing well.  Tired but doing well.

Here is our view from our vestibule.  Brendan did select an outstanding location.  Once again, Brendan saved the day!

Brendan and I had a good night at Camp 2.  No, we didn't sleep that well but we did enjoy our time there.  Noodle soup and ample water made recovery much easier than I initially thought.  The guys (assuming they were guys and that is a good guess) who setup our tent were magicians.  You cannot see from the angles of the pictures but our tent was located on this very small patch of sharp rocks.  A few feet to each side was a rather dramatic drop - from about 1-2m to about 50m in the back.  I tried to dump something out the back vestibule only to realize that it looked down a rather steep drop of 50m to another tent site.  Despite the precarious location, our tent didn't budge.   The winds tried their best to rip our tent apart but the inner part never moved.  Sure, the tent fly rattled in the wind and reminded us that the outside conditions were inhospitable for a late-night sojourn but we were safe inside.  Brendan and I remained impressed throughout the night....but still couldn't sleep that well.

Camp 3 (8300m / 27,400 feet)

We were off at 10am the next day.  Feeling great and ready for the final push.  Our aim...get to Camp 3, rest, rehydrate, get stoked for the summit push.  Here we go!!!

Morning of the push to Camp 3

I figured out my oxygen mask finally - after a night of sleeping with the thing on at half a liter per minute.  That flow rate allowed us to recover but not consume too much oxygen.  Given our limited supply, we had to use the oxygen judiciously.  Once we got up, we cranked it up to 1.5 l/min.  I was feeling great on the extra oxygen.

A last-second view from Camp 2 before we head out.  You can see ABC from here.  Look way down there where the moraine begins and the glacier takes a big left turn.  At the end of that turn lies our camp.  Amazing, huh?
We arrived at Camp 3 feeling great!  I couldn't believe how easy the climb was between Camp 2 and 3.  Here are a few pictures that show our climb between the camps:

Brendan looking poised to get this climb underway.  See the summit pyramid above his head?  Oh yeah, we were psyched.  Jon is in the background.  Sorry Jon, didn't have a good one of both of you.


Things progressed smoothly for us all.  We got up to Camp 3 without drama.

Here I am!  At Camp 3 breathing the wee bit of oxygen in the air.  Not terribly tired and ready to climb higher soon.
Do you think we were psyched for the summit push?  Oh yeah!  Here we are celebrating each step toward that goal.
Thanks to my friend Stu Williams, I could show some patriotism.  Proud American on Everest.  Here at Camp 3 and feeling grateful.

Yo!  The image above shows our view.  At Camp 3, we are higher than most mountains in the world.  How about an even better view?  Below is the view at sunset just before our summit push began at 10pm.  I snapped the picture at 8:50pm.  Not sure what I was doing other than taking photos out of the vestibule opening.  

Camp 3 lasted a total of 7 hours for us (3pm to 10pm) before we were to head out.  A few funny stories are worth mentioning.  First, we asked Jangbu when we were planning to head out to the summit.  He said something like 7:30pm.  When I looked at my watch, 7:30pm was about 10 minutes away.  He insisted that time was correct.  No way were we going to push off that early.  I wasn't ready.  Brendan wasn't read.  Heck, the Sherpa were not ready.  Finally, we figured out that Jangbu never changed his watch from Nepal time; 7:30pm was 10pm Tibet or rather Beijing time.  Once we sorted out that bit, we were set with our recovery time.  Second, when we arrived at Camp 3, we noticed there were no Summit Climb tents.  After waiting for nearly an hour, Jangbu directed us to climb into any unoccupied tent.  Brendan and I were assigned a tent that clearly had some inhabitants before us.  The tent was littered with tons of gear - probably gear owned by one of the many Indians on the mountain.  We just laid on top of the gear with our gear spread about.  Brendan and I both felt a bit strange - perhaps like Goldilocks invading bear territory.  At any rate, we stayed in the tent for the night until we pushed off for the summit.  Very strange though staying in someone else's living quarters.
Here we are spread out in someone else's tent.  Strange?  Yep.
The Final Push (Everest Summit: 8848m / 29,035 feet)

We headed out just as planned at 10pm.  The others were standing around waiting for something to happen but Gelje wasted no time.  I stepped in each of his boot tracks noting that my headlamp didn't really light the way.  Mistake 1:  not checking how well my "new" batteries were functioning in my headlamp.  After about an hour, I noticed that I couldn't see anything in front of me other than Gelje and his boot tracks.  The rocks would come at me with each step and surprise me.  Gelje held a good pace - at least for me - and allowed me to take 3 breaths between each step.  I felt great.  About every 10 minutes I checked in with Brendan.  I assumed he was taking pictures and video; my aim was to climb with him and make sure we both drank enough going up.  The danger in these climbs is to expend too much energy on the summit push up and leave nothing in the tank for the descent.  Drinking and eating was one sure fire way to keep those energy stores high and ensure sufficient energy for the descent.  

Throughout the entire night, I didn't think of much other than hold back, save energy, and stick to Gelje so I wouldn't fall.  As the darkest hours approached (2am-4am), I realized my headlamp was dead.  A few quick efforts to change the batteries showed me that I had made a serious error.  I figured 2 sets of spare batteries stored in the outside of my pack were useless.  Also, the batteries in my headlamp corroded the contacts so changing them out with dead cold Lithium Ion batteries did nothing to restore the headlamp.  I was stuck!  My tracks had to be between Gelje and Brendan.  I felt so stupid but immediately shook off the error and stayed focused on our objective - a quick summit push and a relaxed descent to ABC (if possible).  Our pace remained steady and strong through all the climbs hurdles.

A strange encounter

We encountered several climbers about 2-3 hours into our ascent.  As we approached them, I figured they were from the 7 Summits Russian team but they were our team mates - Magnus, Ang Pasang (Magnus' personal Sherpa), and Franz.  Magnus was hilarious!  He said...."mountaineer Patrick....it is mountaineer Magnus" and then went on to tell me he was feeling confused.  Magnus and Ang Pasang were sitting on a rock just to the side of the fixed rope.  Ang Pasang seemed irritated but Magnus was in high spirits.  I asked him how he was doing and he said his head felt funny.  Immediately, I thought he had early signs of HACE because he complained about being disoriented.  Later I found out he was just confused about where he was on the mountain.  I had no idea.  When he said "I don't know where I am" I immediately responded with sarcasm as in "well, you are on earth, on a mountain, on Everest...." and figured if he were OK then we could move on and let Ang Pasang sort out the details.  Magnus turned out to be just fine.  Franz was uncharacteristically animated - as if he were high or drunk.  I didn't really make much of it but he did seem odd; perhaps not as odd as Magnus but he acted strangely.  Brendan and Gelje were not fond of standing around chatting much longer so we pushed on leaving them behind.  

Just before we ran into these guys, we passed by a few bodies.  I found the experience of seeing dead bodies rather odd.  Death doesn't frighten me but seeing recently deceased bodies made me think of the stupidity of climbing high mountains.  Yvon Chouinard said we were "conquerors of the useless" and just seeing those bodies reinforced the absurdity of it all.  Still, I felt a strong kinship with these other conquerors and feel dedicated to alpinism.  Death is part of life and big mountains just accelerate life both in intensity and duration.  We all chose to be here.  Dying in the pursuit of the absurd is what affected me.  I thought for a moment, reflected on my life, and then took the next steps to pass by these bodies.  Moving for me?  Yes.  I cannot explain it in words here other than it deeply affects me to see death in the pursuit of hobbies.  Knowing many others who have died in various pursuits doesn't make these experiences any easier.  

The steps just kept coming.  I lost count of them after we finally got over the 3rd Step.  These rock obstacles were actually the fun part of the climb.  I finally got to use some of my rock climbing abilities - more than on any other area on the mountain.  Climbing on ladders, scaling rock faces with crampons on my feet, and feeling for good hand holds brought me back to my days on the crag.  It was a great feeling to get over these hurdles without expending much energy.  David mentioned that we ought to increase our oxygen flow rate when we hit the 2nd Step.  Well, that step was so easy, I didn't even know we passed it until we hit the summit pyramid.  

The Summit!

We summited at about 7:30am - not sure the exact time.  My watch stopped working in the cold and my phone was in a constant reboot so I couldn't take any photos or tell what time it was when we were there.  Brendan saved the day!  Not only was he the pacing controller, drinking supporter (water...and later beer), and eating buddy but he saved our summit documentation by taking some top-notch video.  I failed in that category.  Here I am on the summit:


Mask off, right glove off, totally psyched, and relieved to have half the summit push behind us.  What the picture above doesn't show is how winded I was and how little oxygen I was getting from my mask.  

Mask Failure

My mask froze in two locations during my ascent - one area where I could clear and didn't affect me much and one area that I could not clear and that profoundly affected my ability to breath.  The second area is the intake valve from the ambient air.  The valve was protected by a piece of plastic; inside that plastic protector was a huge ice ball.  I couldn't free the ice ball and, as a result, I couldn't draw air into the mask.  The mask failed about 100m below the summit and I just had to make do with my mask.  I twisted it so I could take in air around the mask but by doing so, the air coming in was way too much.  The amount of oxygen I could get to my lungs was probably around 1/2 liter/minute.  At 8800 meters, that flow rate doesn't really help much.  I could feel myself getting weaker and weaker as I climbed higher.  Now, at this point, I was on the snow slope above the summit ridge and I knew I had the energy to get up and get down.  Each step, however, was harder and harder.  Below is a picture of me during the descent.  The summit ridge ends just below the snow field above - about where my mask stopped working properly.  The part that froze is the black knob looking thing to my left - on the mask.  I cleared out as much ice as I could but the ice remained solid around the valve.  


We spent about 15 minutes on the summit in a stiff breeze (probably 25-30 knots).  My brain was in a haze.  Brendan was yelling at me to take out my flags.  We had rehearsed all our steps but I was useless in the process.  I couldn't remember a thing nor could I muster the energy to do anything but sit there and take in the sights.  Sorry Brendan.  I promise to make it up to you on the next climb.  

The rest of the descent was a blur.  I stumbled my way down - trailing Gelje and Brendan by as much as about 100m at some points.  During my descent on the 2nd Step, I lost my footing while descending on one of the lower ladders, swung around (doing a "barn door"), and hanging over a huge drop.  When I say huge, I mean huge - probably 5000m drop to the glacier way below.  I knew I was roped in so nothing to fear; I just regained my footing and pulled myself back to firm ground.  Once there, I felt embarrassed for the misstep.  Oh, but the calamity continued.  Gelje said "watch out for that step...very slippery" and so what did I do?  I slipped on it.  Damn near fell to my death had it not been for being clipped into the fixed rope.  Now I really felt stupid.  I couldn't keep my feet steady on these seemingly easy steps down.  My oxygen mask now didn't work at all and often kept me from being able to breath.  The lack of oxygen was really getting to me.  I was slow and clumsy.

Left alone to pace myself

I told Gelje and Brendan to go ahead.  It was clear to me that I would get down but I had to go at my own pace.  Those two were way faster and were waiting for me to descend the easiest snow slopes.  I just couldn't catch my breath.  My oxygen was running out but even if I had a new cylinder, the oxygen wasn't getting to my lungs or brain.  I had to get down and I decided to just keep moving.  Once I got down to Camp 3, I knew things would get better.  I had to get some water in me, eat a few snacks and then head down to Camp 2.

Missing Gear at Camp 3

When I finally got down to Camp 3, Brendan was waiting there on a pile of gear for probably an hour.  I was beat and feeling woozy at best.  He said our gear was missing and spread around Camp 3.  Apparently the Arun Sherpa and/or climbers collected our cached gear (stored in a large plastic bag and tied off), sorted through what they wanted, and discarded the rest.  They told Brendan that they were just collecting the gear left behind by their climbers and didn't know that we had occupied their tents.  What made me irritated was that they took my climbing gear - my -40F sleeping bag, some electronics, and a few other odds and ends - while leaving other gear to simply blow away from the camp.  The guys Brendan interacted with were very defensive but I could see their conundrum.  They were assigned the duty to clear the camps but chose to only clear what they deemed worthy.  As they were about to head out, they cut the Arun labels off the tents and left the tents erected.  I suspect they cut out the labels to eliminate the climbing authorities from holding them accountable for littering the mountain with their tents.  Well, Brendan and I saw them cut out the labels and would be more than happy to report them.  They also stole some of my gear that I could easily estimate to exceed US$1000.  

Despite the loss of equipment, I was still psyched and knew my climb had to continue to at least Camp 1 to be safe.  We pushed off frustrated by the experience at Camp 3 toward Camp 2 not knowing what was in store for us there.  A few hours later, we got to Camp 2.  Note we had no pictures.  I barely had the energy to descend and had no plans to stop to take pictures.  The others in our group no doubt have pictures.  I will post some when I find a few.  We made it to Camp 2 - I arrived about 30 minutes after Brendan.  He walked around and couldn't find our equipment store tent.  Apparently it was gone.  Well, that wasn't good.  Some of my other gear was in that tent.  I was starting to realize that a good portion of my alpine gear would be missing.  Brendan pushed on from Camp 2 and I slowly got through it.  Once we hit the snow slope toward Camp 1, I could see Brendan but he was slowly pulling away from me.  I stumbled my way down the snow slope toward Camp 1 and completely lost him in the fog/clouds.  

Camp 1 Reunion

I got down to Camp 1 exhausted with barely enough energy to do anything other than lie down on the glacier and breath.  The past few hours were spent alone trying to handle the low oxygen without a functional mask.  I struggled and felt incredibly weak.  Still, I got down to Camp 1.  I felt like that was a great accomplishment and one I would note later as the hardest thing I ever did.  Yep, I endured the hot waters around Manhattan for my 20 Bridges swim - an effort that ended with my entire body cramped up and with a feeling of total exhaustion.  The descent from the summit on Everest trumped that by a long shot.  I couldn't move once I got to Camp 1.  I was so tired I just laid down on the glacier with my pack under my head and fell asleep.  It was about 4pm when I got into camp and our summit push started at 10pm the night before.  By my simple accounting, the duration of that effort was 18 hours and we were still not out of the woods.  Camp 1 was not our desired destination; we wanted to get down to ABC but I was in no shape to go any further.  

More Missing Gear

When we got to Camp 1, I had no energy to look for my gear but I knew the sleeping bag I expected to use was gone from Camp 3.  Gelje was kind enough to loan me a sleeping bag for the night but I was fine with passing out with my summit suit only.  The fatigue I felt would carry me to a blissful night sleep regardless of my sleeping arrangements.  Gelje's loaned sleeping bag did make it easier.  In the morning, however, I learned that the storage tent was a total nightmare.  The gear I left at Camp 1 was not in the tent.  I left my hardshell top and bottoms - the gear I use for all my alpine outings - my giant Mountain Hardwear puff jacket, and several other layers at Camp 1 in the storage tent but they were all gone.  My favorite blue fleece top was gone too along with my ice axe.  All gone.  Not a trace of that gear was evident in the gear tent or anywhere else.  I was supremely bummed to say the least.  My gear loss on this trip was starting to add up.  I figured I had US$4000 of gear gone in total.  Everest is expensive but now it was getting stupid expensive.  


Above, Brendan and Dom were waiting with me to get more water.  We needed the water to descend from Camp 1 to ABC.  On May 20th, the warm weather arrived.  There wasn't even a slight breeze today.  We had no idea how the climb unfolded for the rest of the team but we learned that Dom suffered similar problems with his mask.  His problems started well below the summit and he felt compelled to turn around.  We all agreed he made a wise decision.  It was difficult to be so happy about our summit while we consoled and supported Dom after he didn't summit.  He was strong to be sure and Brendan and I were bummed for him.  

Descent to ABC

The climb down the headwall toward ABC went smoother than I thought it would.  We were all dehydrated and exhausted - even after a night sleep at Camp 1.  The little bit of water we got from a Sherpa would need to suffice until we got down to ABC.  I didn't know how I would muster the energy.  The previous day sapped me of almost all my energy and I was still struggling to breath.  Getting down to ABC was a necessity and we had to do it on our own power.  We pressed on down toward crampon point where I could retrieve my approach shoes and then stumble my way into camp.  When we got to crampon point, our blue barrel was gone!  My shoes were missing.  Damn!  I couldn't believe the luck I was having at this point.  I was so tired I just couldn't think straight.  Missing gear at every point on the descent was starting to take its toll on me.  I was angry, sad, concerned, and then just depressed by the whole situation.  We left crampon point with me feeling totally beaten down.  I had no shoes for the trek other than my mountaineering boots and that would be next to impossible to walk 20km in those boots.  Feeling rather hopeless, I stumbled on through many abandoned camps.  About 30 minutes away from our camp, one of our cook boys (that is what they are called but they are grown men) came up to me with a coke and some juice.  I almost cried.  For the past 2 hours during our descent I had been dreaming of a Coke.  Here it was and it was delivered to me before we hit our ABC tents.  


I was exhausted, demoralized, and angry but I wasn't going to let some material possessions get in the way of relishing a great accomplishment.  Things can be replaced.  Memories are what matters most and I wanted the memories to be fond ones not bitter ones about loss of possessions.  I spent some time collecting my thoughts before I walked into camp.  Once there, I learned that the cook staff retrieved our crampon point cache and they had my approach shoes.  Wooohooo!!!  My trek wouldn't be as miserable as I imagined.  


Brendan and I celebrated our return by opening up a few beers.  These were the first beers we had since December.  


I was so happy to share the experience with Brendan.  He and I are a good match for these endeavors.  We enjoy the time together and we have similar dispositions.  A little late, Jon joined us in our celebration.  We were all thrilled to have successfully summit days behind us.  

We "enjoyed" the beers and a few Cokes on this day.  What we didn't know was how the climb was going for the rest of the group.  We now knew about Jon and Dom but the others were still high up on the mountain.  The fate of the others will be the focus on my 3rd Part.  Stay tuned.

I hope you enjoyed my summit recap.  Please feel free to post pictures or share the recap on Twitter or Facebook.  Thanks for the support.

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

55 days to go: Three random and recurrent thoughts

Well...actually 54 days now.  Time sure is flying by.  I am chomping at the bit to head off but a few more things remain for me to sort out.  Below are three randomly recurring thoughts from the past few days.

1.  No matter how fit or prepare I am for these expeditions, there is always something that sneaks up and bites me.  That something is likely to be my sinuses.  I get sinus infections about 3 to 4 times each year.  The only year I successfully avoided them was when I prepared for my marathon swims.  For some odd reason, I seem to be able to fight them off when I am swimming every day for many hours.  Right now, I have a raging sinus infection.  Hopefully this one is the last infection I get before I leave.

2.  Training my brain is probably more important than training my body.  I spent the past 208 days training hard for this climb.  What I gained from it was more than just physical fitness; I gained mental fitness to help me overcome those points in the climb when I really need to dig deep.  My recent training days consist more of higher intensity training and less long, moderate slogs.  These higher intensity days test my mental resolve but no more so than the long "Summit Saturdays" I spent over the past few months.  I am ready mentally and know I am fit physically for any challenge.  The only problem...I have 53 more days until I depart.  My objective now is to stay healthy and refine any training to be ready for most if not all the mountain has to offer.

3.  Days off are just as important as days of training.  I am learning in my 5th decade that rest is just as important as exercise (and diet).  Combined, these facets of training offer me the most in preparation for this climb.  I take the rest when I schedule it and when my body seems to need more.  My recent sinus infection could be traced back almost two weeks ago (65 days remaining or 11 days ago) when my HRV readings started to indicate that my body was not fully recovering. Had I rested fully then, I might not be fighting this infection today.  Perhaps.  Maybe I am not that disciplined but I do plan to be more judicious about my rest moving forward.

I leave you once again with just a few tidbits of what inhabits my head these days.  All is well - despite feeling exhausted from this infection.  Over the next few weeks, I plan to do more strength training and maintaining my already strong aerobic base.  Next update (on Friday) will include some video of what I actually do on most of my workout days; come back and check them out.  Remember....

Work + Rest = Success!

Thanks for following.

Wednesday, January 31, 2018

67 days and counting: Four rules for training specifics to eliminate surprises

Another 3 days down and I am resting again - this time I really needed the rest.  Over the past few weeks, I started to focus on training for very specific instances where most mountaineers struggle.  We all struggle.  If you found the time to watch Adrian Ballinger and Cory Richards ascend Everest (from the Tibet side) without oxygen, you will see that they both struggled.  Climbing without oxygen that high is a huge feat - not one that I wish to accomplish due to the fact that I have too much invested in my brain already and I make my living by thinking.  That aside, those two expert mountaineers struggled with parts of the climb.  The more we prepare ourselves ahead of time for those struggles, the less likely they will affect us.  Sure, these climbs might still affect us or we might overlook something and get bitten by that oddity but nothing beats preparation to eliminate surprises.  I prepare for any adventure the same way...by following these four simple rules:

1.  Focus on the little things:  Everyone seems to focus on the big aspects of an adventure.  We need gear, fitness, and such but it is often the little things - often routine things - that interfere with our success.  Many forget to train themselves to go to the bathroom without making a mess, to change clothes quickly without much light to help guide the way, to organize your gear so everything can be found easily, and to eliminate any obstacle that interferes with optimal performance.  I try to train for all these little things (and many more) while at home.  I create checklists that I affix to the inside of my bags to eliminate any cognitive load while packing between camp sites.  These small steps help me immerse myself in the environment well before I even step on the mountain.

2.  Prepare for every scenario:  In most adventure sports, the odd scenarios are the ones that are most dangerous.  I try to the best of my abilities to prepare for both the good and the bad.  What happens if....and I think of contingency plans.  As Yvon Chouinard (the founder of Patagonia) said "[t]he word adventure has gotten overused.  For me, when everything goes wrong - that's when adventure starts."  We can all prepare a bit for the adventure though.  If we let everything unfold without much preparation, then we might find ourselves in adventures where and when none should exist.  



3.  Focus on the process - not the outcome:  I find more enlightenment in the process and experience of the outdoors and of adventure rather than the attainment of some goal within that environment.  You may differ from me but I think most of us who go outside, stress ourselves, and come away wanting more are those who enjoy the process.  I like the stress.  I like the preparation.  I like the discomfort.  I embrace it all.   Each of my adventures includes all and more but I find the most memorable aspects of every adventure are those that involve the struggle - not the culmination of the effort.  Sure, I celebrate the end but I live in the moment and enjoy every step, stroke, or surge forward.

4.  Eliminate surprises:  Most surprises come from inside - not outside of us.  If you know yourself and know how you will fare in every situation, you can both prepare yourself but more importantly you can prepare your mind.  I try to eliminate surprises to the best of my ability by experiencing the stress and strain of every adventure BEFORE I depart.  I start from my feet and move upward to the top of my head.  What can my feet withstand?  Apparently not much these days.  Then, my legs; how do they fare after long days?  Can they withstand more stress after 3 or 4 days of hard slogging?  Eventually I move up to my head.  What does it feel like to be truly tired?  How does it feel to be exhausted, dehydrated, malnourished, or spent (all combined)?  I like to feel and know how I react before I leave so I can also learn how to prevent these situations from occurring.  It is one thing to say that you know how you feel but it is another to say that I both know how I feel in those situations and I know how important it is for me to prevent them (and here is how...).  

These four steps served me well over the past few decades.  Thanks for following my adventures.  Hope you have a lovely day.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Last second thoughts before my 6-hour cold water qualifying swim

Greetings,

I sit here in my kitchen, thinking about what to write before we head off for Oakville, Ontario.  Funny enough, I am at a loss for words.  The past few weeks went very well for training.  I feel great.  My only concern was that the water might not be cold enough (61 degrees F or colder) to count as my qualifying swim.  Those concerns are gone.  Now, I hope that I don't get swept away by the cold winds that appear to be coming to the area.  Yes, the water will be cold enough and the conditions will be an excellent simulation for some of the worst conditions the EC has to offer - short of jellyfish, saltwater, and hurricanes.  Here is the forecast for this weekend:  cold (low to mid 60's air and upper 50's in the water), wet (85% chance of rain on Saturday), and windy (10 mph in the morning building to 25 mph by the time I finish).  Not bad.  I am really excited.  We push off early tomorrow morning so I need to get to bed.  The weather may press me into service on Friday night instead of waiting for Saturday.  Now that would be exciting!  The folks at LOST have been nothing short of amazing.  More on them later with pictures.

Wish us luck!

Sunday, June 21, 2015

EC training going well: Huge hurdle coming up

Greetings,

I sit here in my comfortably air-conditioned house while it is 90 degrees F outside and muggy like a swamp.  My comfort also comes from knowing that over the past 4 weeks, I logged more than 32km each week in swimming and I am slowly getting faster and fatter (started at 173 lbs and now tip the scales at 184 lbs).  When I first returned from Nepal, I could barely make Cheryl's workout sets. Who is Cheryl you ask?  Cheryl Ward is my coach, friend, and adventure supporter.  She rocks!  So how am I doing with Cheryl's workouts now?  I make the intervals now and seem to get stronger throughout the workout.  Not sure I would have been able to do that on my own.  Thanks Cheryl.  So, mission accomplished in the training department or at least on a mission and keeping my eye on the prize.  

The boat that will pilot me across the EC.  You can track it throughout the season here.
The huge hurdle that lies ahead is my last hurdle before I can really focus on the EC swim - my 6-hour cold water qualifying swim.  Yep, the EC has a qualifying swim.  Unlike Everest where anyone can throw their hat into the ring (provided you have the cash), the folks at the Channel Swimming Association require swimmers to go through a physical examination, pay a nonrefundable deposit, and submit evidence of competency for swimming long distances in cold water.  The best evidence is to actually swim long distances in cold water.  So this Friday, my family and I push off for the cold shores of Lake Ontario where I will complete my 6-hour swim in 61 degree F water (or colder as it may be later this week).  I plan to complete my swim with the support of my family and the gracious folks of LOST (Lake Ontario Swim Team).  More on them in a bit.  For now, I am focused and ready to swim.  The biggest trial for this swim will be sorting out my feeding schedule and working with my crack team of family members to keep me on track.

An extra layer of insulation

Getting fat and fast is important for the EC but no swim is complete without adding a nice buffer to stave off chafing.  I read a ton about what to use and finally came up with the solution.  Butt paint!  Kathy and I used to call this stuff butt paint because we used it all the time on our son when he was in diapers.  Now, I use it for swimming or at least will when I start my open-water sessions.  Here it is...butt paint:


I plan to smear this stuff all over me before the swim and try to keep it off my goggles.  Wish me luck on that last part.

The LOST swimmers


A couple weeks ago - perhaps now many weeks - I was searching for a place to swim a long distance in the open water.  I knew I needed to complete my qualifying swim, I just didn't know where.  My criteria were simple.  First, I wanted to swim in a body of water that was cold because the rules stipulate that I must complete my qualifying swim in 61 degree F or colder water.  Second, that body of water had to be free of real objective dangers such as hungry sharks, boat traffic, and drunk people fishing or jet skiing.  The latter of those three probably represent the greatest threat to any open-water swimmer.  Third, I needed the body of water to be relatively close to my VA home.  We all traveled a fair bit this year and with our upcoming trips, we wanted to be able to drive and keep the hassles to a minimum.  Finally, I didn't care if the water were salt or fresh water although I preferred salt water just so I could practice a bit more in an environment similar to the EC. 

These four criteria set me up for a long search up and down the eastern shores of the US.  Obviously, the ocean would be ideal but probably not easily accessible without violating one of my stipulations above.  I found the only cold waters of the North Atlantic within an easy drive were probably a bit too busy for a 6-hour swim.  One website - swimmingholes.org - provided a good start where I could search all around the US to find a suitable body of water.  Narragansett Bay seemed to fit all my needs but the weather and the water temperature didn't seem to be terribly predictable - at least not from the data I found on the internet.  Next, I started looking at lakes.  

Yes!  Lakes should be a good alternative because many nearby (+/- 8 hour drive) were really cold and supported open-water swimming.  First, I looked at Seneca Lake.  That lake seemed like a perfect fit.  The water would be cold - perhaps not cold enough in some spots and really cold in others.  I thought I found my match.  Then, after a little more searching, I figured it might be best to find a lake where open-water swimmers already practice.  That search lead me to the LOST page.  I immediately contacted the president (Rob Kent) and manager (Miguel Vadillo) via email.  They both responded within minutes of sending out the message.  I was extremely relieved to hear that they were enthusiastic about my training and supportive for my qualifying swim.  They knew a fair bit about the EC and the requirements to qualify; I knew I found a great match.  So, I am off to swim with them this coming weekend.  Kathy and Patrick will kayak (I presume) alongside me while I swim, eat, and enjoy the cold waters of Lake Ontario.  

The LOST group starts their swims on Saturday mornings from Oakville, Ontario.  We plan to drive up on Friday and spend the evening in Oakville so we can get a little bit more sleep than if we stayed with family in Buffalo.  After the swim, we will drive down to Buffalo where I will warm up, drink a ton of beer with my brother-in-law (named Pat too - how could he be a bad guy, eh?), and eat enough Buffalo wings to support a mid-sized Irish village.  

Wish us luck.  OK, off for my daily Sunday double.  8km today, 8km tomorrow, and then I get to taper off a little to rest up for the big day.  Expect more on my complete training shortly but no graphs or anything like that for this training adventure.  I do have a ton of stories to tell.  Stay tuned.

Thanks for following.


Friday, February 20, 2015

Finding comfort in discomfort

I'm laying here in my new little tent breathing oxygen-depleted air (equivalent to 15,000 feet or 4500m) while I post this latest update.   It is 5:01am local time and I'm wide awake after waking up at 3:50am this morning to shuttle my son to his swim practice.   Oh,  it is 2°F outside and the roads are a little hazardous after a small snowstorm last night.   Why am I telling you these details?   Some people hate discomfort.   They dislike early, cold, and inclement mornings more than any other threat to their comfort.  I love these mornings.  Why?  On those 65°F days when I get to sleep in until 7am and enjoy a peaceful, sunny new day, I appreciate them more by experiencing and remembering these more challenging days. A little deprivation goes a long way for me.   Still, I actually prefer these cold days; I have learned to like them and embrace them.  

Embracing discomfort also affords me a greater sense of luxury in small doses of comfort.   I cannot even fathom what a former POW, for example, must feel when he or she gets to sleep in a newly made bed for the first time and eat a self-selected meal.  These contrasts must be overwhelming and hard to even describe to others.  I'm not saying my experiences are even remotely close to theirs but we can all experience a little pleasure magnification by doing without.

Learning to like discomfort

I recall my formative years where I raced sailboats with my family.   Most of these races were overnight - offering us all little chance of sleep or comfort.  A race would typically start on a Friday afternoon and end on a Sunday morning.   We all had fun in some way or another but to call it fun is a stretch.   It was - to be sure - gratifying to do well as a team but there was something more to these outings.   We had shifts or watches throughout the race; mostly,  we slept or sailed for 4 hours in alternating fashion. Sleep often consisted of crawling down into the soaking wet cabin I foul weather gear and passing out from sheer exhaustion on equally wet sails.  Sailing, similarly,  offered little rest.  If the winds were string,  we changed sails and kept a lookout for other boats and obstructions.  Light winds meant we all battled our eyes and hoped our 4-hour shift would end soon.  We sailed through rain, squalls, doldrums, cold,  heat, and wind....often more than we or our boat could easily manage.   These experiences taught me more than any other about the importance of sacrificing comfort.

If you asked my dad,  brother, cousins, or friends about these races, they might recall different moments or highlights but we all recall the amazing comfort of our own beds on Sunday evening.  What a joy to sleep for 8 hours in a heated or air conditioned room!  Again, the contrast between discomfort and a little comfort got magnified.

How does discomfort relate to climbing?

Climbing - especially high alpine climbing - affords little luxury. Often the little bit of available luxury comes in the form of a piece of cheese or chocolate after a hard day. Cold, damp tents situated in windy, exposed areas make for less-than-ideal sleeping conditions and yet most of us enjoy this activity. Again, finding enjoyment in these situations can be tough but many of us go back to experience the hardship repeatedly.  

Why go back for more?

Many of us climb to re-experience life.  We soon need to feel a little deprivation to fully feel alive and climbing provides that deprivation.  Climbing is an activity that provides few benefits beyond the experience.   Some climbers use summits just as stamp collectors use stamps; they collect them like trophies in a checklist of objectives.  Others capture pictures and sacrifice to get the perfect shot.  Each climb gives the photographer another opportunity to capture the essence of a mountain.  Still others just like being out in the wilderness and "experiencing" nature for the fun or companionship available in the outdoors.  Each of these motives result in the same behavior.  The person goes back for more. I believe after a person gets a taste of the discomfort, that taste becomes a craving.  None of us like to be miserable but we slowly get accustomed to slight discomfort and we soon appreciate the contrast I mentioned previously.  Neither the checklist, picture nor "fun" acts as sufficient motive to endure hardship.   There must be something else and that something might be a need.

Do you need a little discomfort to feel satisfaction with everyday life?  I do.   That need is why I climb, sail, ski, snowboard, hike, swim, run, drink, and work.  I find comfort in discomfort.   How about you?  Post a  comment below with your thoughts.

Thanks for joining me on my adventures.