Seven Summits Part 12

"We've got a problem. Better put Ershler on."

All of us stared at one another. What could be wrong? We all knew that near the summit of Everest there is little margin for error, little chance to survive a mistake.

"Ershler here. What's the problem?"

"Phil, this is Gerry. The problem is we don't have anywhere else to climb. We're on top of this mother!"

We exploded in backslapping cheer. Frank's face beamed. "They did it," he said. "Those guys did it."

We went silent as Roach's voice came back on. "And by the way, Phil. Happy thirty-second birthday."

"Gerry, I couldn't have asked for a better present. Now where's Nielson?"

"Maybe twenty minutes below us. Moving slow, but he'll make it."

Now we waited for Breashears to unpack the camera, connect the microwave, and try for the first electronic broadcast from the top of the world.

"Breashears calling the engineers at Everest View. You guys got a picture down there?"

"Move the microwave," one of the engineers said excitedly. "There, coming in, better, better. Unbelievable. Great pictures. I can see all you guys standing there on the summit!"

With the ability to run continuously for several hours, the camera remained on while Breashears made pans, zooms, static shots. The engineers, all the while preserving the pictures on their large broadcast quality video ca.s.sette recorders, confirmed over the radio a close-up of Roach's ice-encrusted beard and broad smile. Then to Jamieson with an equally wide grin: even though there was no sound the engineers watching the screen could see clearly as he looked at the camera and said, "Hi Mom." Roach and Jamieson unfurled the American flag, then Frank and d.i.c.k's Seven Summits banner. Finally Breashears pointed the camera downhill to a lone figure making one slow step at a time. Nielson had maybe thirty such steps to go, thirty steps to become the first American to climb Everest without oxygen.

In a few minutes Roach's voice came on. "Nielson has five more steps." We waited. "Three steps ... two ... one ... he's on the summit."

More cheers at camp 2, more bear hugs. Ershler took the radio, "Summit, this is Ershler. Put Larry on."

"Ersh, Nielson here." His voice was strained, his breathing fast. "I made it."

"Congratulations buddy."

Frank took the radio and said, "Congratulations from Ba.s.s and Wells, Larry. We've never had such a great moment. Hold on. Ba.s.s wants to say something."

"Nielson, you're an animal!" d.i.c.k shouted, the same kudos Marty Hoey had given him after he'd climbed McKinley.

"Thanks everyone ... now I've just got ... to get down. "

After the summit transmission camp 2 didn't hear anything until 10:00 that night when Breashears made a very brief one-way radio call. "Everyone's down. Call in the morning."

It was terse, but sounded as though they were okay. Next morning Breashears called early.

"Larry and I dragged in about two hours after dark on the last energy we had. The others made it a few hours later in a storm. I had a flashlight, the others didn't, they just made it somehow. Kind of incredible. Over."

Breashears sounded fatigued, as though he had barely enough strength to talk.

"Is everybody okay?" we asked.

"Larry's had a hard night. He's frostbitten and throwing up blood. His tongue is swollen, cracked, and bleeding. Coughing badly, too. We really had a tough time descending last night. He had to hold to the back of my pack coming down. He's partially blind."

Our team doctor Ed Hixson was alarmed and wanted Nielson to get down as quick as possible, on oxygen if necessary. We watched that morning as the figures left the South Col and slowly descended the rope that laced down and across the Lhotse Face. They reached camp 3-mid-point on the face-and then we saw only four of them continue; one was still behind, perhaps resting in one of the tents. By mid-afternoon Breashears reached camp 2. (Roach and Ang Rita were still fifteen minutes from camp, and Jamieson was another fifteen minutes behind them.) "Where's Nielson?" Ershler immediately asked Breashears.

"Apparently he's staying in camp three."

"Why did they let him stay there?"

"I don't know. I thought he was coming down with Jamieson, but for some reason he decided to stay in camp three."

"Somebody should have stayed with him."

Without hesitation Ershler said he was going up to camp 3, and Hixson said he would go too. Ershler appointed two Sherpas to accompany them, and in a few minutes they were off. Roach and Ang Rita were just getting into camp, but they too had no idea why Nielson was staying in camp 3. Then minutes later Ershler pa.s.sed Jamieson, who said Nielson had told him just below the South Col he wanted to stay in camp 3 because he was moving too slowly and was too weak to get down in one push.

"I couldn't talk him out of it, and there was no way I could stay up there myself in my condition. I'm sure relieved you're going up. There's no lighter at camp three, no way for Larry to start a stove and make drinks. Plus he has no sleeping bag."

As darkness fell we at camp 2 watched the figures of Ershler, Hixson, and the Sherpas, no more than specks against the shining ice, ascend the ropes. The weather was deteriorating fast; sweeps of snowy spindrift scudded across the figures. With last daylight gone Ershler radioed he had reached camp 3 and was making soup for Nielson, who appeared stable. Ershler said he was now worried about Hixson, who was still several hundred feet below, moving slowly up the ropes in the dark.

"I told the Sherpas to stay with Hixson," Ershler said, "or I would kill them. I think they got the message."

Hixson finally reached camp at 11:00 P.M P.M. The group crowded in the tent and, without sleeping bags, huddled through the night. With the hot soup Nielson was regaining a little strength, and in the morning was able to descend most of the way under his own power. Near camp 2, though, Ershler and Hixson had to support him, one under each arm; as an interlocked trio they made the last distance to the tents and to a warm homecoming.

Nielson was laid in his tent, and Hixson, completing an exam, reported he had probably suffered a pulmonary embolism and was lucky to be alive. In addition, his extreme coughing had broken several ribs. His partial blindness was related to dehydration and hypoxia, and on that count at least he was already feeling better.

After hot soup and rest Nielson felt up to joining us that evening in the mess tent, where he related his story.

"I was sick when I came back up to camp two for the summit attempt," he explained, his voice hoa.r.s.e and weak. "Nauseous, throwing up, some kind of bug. I couldn't hold anything down, including water."

Some of us glanced at one another in astonishment; this meant that he was sick at least three days before the summit attempt, but didn't tell anyone.

"I think it was the dehydration that really got me on the summit day," he continued. "I had an awful night at the South Col. I had a bad cough, bad enough that I broke a couple of my ribs. I remember looking over and seeing Roach in his oxygen mask sawing logs, and if I had had a mask with me I would have chucked my no oxygen commitment right then.

"In the morning I still couldn't hold anything down, but I decided to go through with it: I had put too much effort in at that point not to give it my all. For a while we were roped together, then we got to this deep snow, and I couldn't keep up. We unroped, and I fell behind. I kept plodding as well as I could, and got to the South Summit in time to see the others get over the Hillary Step, then disappear above. When I got to the Step I started up a fixed rope and got about ten moves when suddenly I got dizzy. I threw up, and it was blood. I was worried, but decided that if whatever I had was going to kill me, it would kill me whether I made the last distance to the top or not. The wind was now blowing, and I couldn't see any tracks or signs of the others. I got up one pinnacle and looked beyond to the next. No sign. Your mind starts to play games. I thought, Did I go the wrong way? Did those guys fall through a cornice? On top of the next pinnacle I still couldn't see anyone. I climbed the next one, then I saw them, on the summit.

"I don't remember much of the last part except I kept thinking of my wife and kids, and how they would be proud of me, and that kept me pushing. Then I was on top. What a relief it was to know everything from there was downhill. But the descent turned into an ordeal. The dehydration hit me hard and my tongue swelled so much it split in several places and was bleeding badly. So were my lips. Then I started seeing double, and as it got dark I had to hold on to Dave's pack. Dave would say, 'Here's a creva.s.se. Step.' A couple of times I started to fall in and he said, 'Bigger step.' And so on until we reached camp four, and then next day camp three. It was a G.o.dsend to have Ershler come up there and make soup for me. It was one of those things you never forget."

Although never openly discussed, there was a strong feeling of criticism in camp over the fact that Nielson had been left behind in camp 3. Ershler and Hixson were sharply critical of the others for what they thought was abandonment of a fellow climber in distress, while Roach and the others on the first team countered that they thought all the time Nielson was planning on coming down. Only Jamieson knew differently, and he wasn't in condition to help anybody. Furthermore, Roach and the others let it be known around camp they felt Nielson had used bad judgment both in pushing, despite his illness, with no oxygen, and in not telling anyone he was sick. They felt that by increasing the chance he would need rescue he had placed everyone in jeopardy, and consequently had mitigated their own responsibility to risk their lives for him. Fortunately with everyone down safe there had been a happy ending, and what otherwise might have developed into bitter controversy was overshadowed by the success as well as by the need to concentrate on the next summit bids.

Frank and d.i.c.k felt they were ready. Frank had been successful in his effort to create his own summit team separate from d.i.c.k's. d.i.c.k's team, now consisting of Ed Hixson, Yogendra Thapa (the Nepalese police officer whom d.i.c.k and Frank had invited to join the expedition), three Sherpas, and himself, would follow the second team, and then Frank's group would go fourth.

"I'll go last," Frank had told Ershler, "and I don't want any of the climbers with me, because I don't want to feel responsible for holding anyone back. So number one, I want three strong Sherpas."

"Three!" Ershler had said. "I need every one for hauling loads now. How can I hold three in reserve?"

Ignoring Ershler's rejoinder, Frank continued, "Second, I definitely need a high camp above camp four. Otherwise it's too far for me to go in one day."

"That means hauling a tent, sleeping bags, stoves, fuel, food, sleeping oxygen, all the way to 27,500!"

"Third, I need eight bottles of oxygen: one to sleep on at three, one to climb to four, one to sleep on at four, one to climb to five, one to sleep on at five, two to go to the summit, and one in reserve for descent."

"Frank, it would be a waste of the Sherpas' efforts to haul all that c.r.a.p up there before we even know if you are strong enough to get to the Col."

"You worry about getting the equipment up there, I'll worry about myself."

"I tell you what, then. In the morning why don't you and d.i.c.k go up to camp three, and let's see how you do."

It was a repeat of Ershler's earlier strategy when he had tested Frank by having him climb through the Icefall, only this time he was certain Frank would have trouble. The next morning Frank and d.i.c.k were up at dawn, intending an early start. But the Sherpa cook was late with breakfast, and it was nearly 8:00 when they finally got away. For the first hour the climbing was similar to the stage between camps 1 and 2, following a trail through the glacier snow from one marker wand to the next, heading toward the back of the cul-de-sac Western Cwm. At the base of the Lhotse Face they had to cross a creva.s.se where the glacier floor separated from the face. This bergshrund was offset so the lip on the face side was much higher than the glacier side, and the lead climbers had propped a ladder over it. d.i.c.k was first. At the top of the ladder he took his jumar clamp and clipped it to the fixed rope that led up, then disappeared around a bulge of ice. One step above the ladder and he was on the Lhotse Face proper. He felt his crampon points bite the hard ice. He splayed his feet in a duck walk, moving one foot, then the next, then sliding his jumar clamp up, feeling it lock when he pulled back on it, then moving his feet again. In a minute he was around the bulge. Looking up he could see the entire face sweeping to the summit of Lhotse 5,000 feet directly above his head. The yellow rope lay on the gleaming ice in a line from one anchor to the next, nearly 2,000 feet connecting him eventually to the tents at camp 3. He couldn't see the tents-they were hidden behind the snow ledge on which they perched-but he knew their approximate location.

d.i.c.k had about thirty pounds of supplies in his pack; he had decided that as long as he was going to camp 3, he might as well do something useful. The wind that had blown most of the night was now abated, and under clear skies he soon had to stop to shed his parka. He carefully removed his pack; if he dropped it here, it would rocket down the steep ice several hundred feet and then no doubt toboggan across the glacier for a few hundred more. When he had the parka stuffed, he put the pack back on. Now he felt he had just the right amount of clothing. This was important to d.i.c.k; if he was dressed too warmly, or if some piece of gear was out of adjustment, it created a nagging distraction, one of those negative thoughts that drained him and hampered him from reaching maximum performance.

He slipped into a steady pace, moving one foot, the other, then sliding the jumar, reciting Kipling and Service. Looking down he could see Frank several hundred feet below, moving slowly.

Considering how little time he had to acclimatize since leaving base camp, d.i.c.k was climbing amazingly fast. Soon, though, he began to feel the telltale fatigue of hypoxia, but he was confident he would reach camp 3 with no problem. He wasn't so sure about his partner, as Frank was dropping further behind.

About 1:00 in the afternoon d.i.c.k saw the tops of the two tents at camp 3, and in a few minutes he stepped onto the snow bulge that formed a small flat area on the otherwise steep face. He unshouldered his pack, unzipped a tent and sat in the doorway. This was a room with a view: from his aerie he gazed down the length of the Western Cwm, Everest on the right, Nuptse on the left. Past the mouth of the Cwm he looked down on the summit of Pumori, and beyond, several valleys removed, the ma.s.sive Cho, Oyo, the worl's eighth-highest peak.

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The first adventure: Africa, 1955. The plane didn't make it, but Frank (right) and his Oxford cla.s.smate did climb Kilimanjaro, where Frank first had the seven summits dream. (Credit: Frank Wells collection) (Credit: Frank Wells collection) [image]

d.i.c.k Ba.s.s, Aconcagua 1983. (Credit: Rick Ridgeway) (Credit: Rick Ridgeway) [image]

Frank on the first Everest attempt, 1982. (Credit: Jim Wickwire) (Credit: Jim Wickwire) [image]

Marty Hoey with a guanaco friend, Aconcagua, 1982. (Credit: Jim Wickwire) (Credit: Jim Wickwire) [image]

The memorial cairn to Marty, under Everest's North Wall. (Credit: Jim Wickwire) (Credit: Jim Wickwire) [image]

Lou Whittaker evacuates a frostbitten Larry Nielson following the unsuccessful summit bid. (Credit: Jim Wickwire) (Credit: Jim Wickwire) [image]

Aconcagua, 22,834 feel, highest peak in South America. (Crerdit: Jim Wickwire) (Crerdit: Jim Wickwire) [image]

At the start of big year, Frank signs his will while his wife Luanne watches.(Credit: Rick Ridegeway) [image]

Battered, bloodied and breathing hard: an out-of-shape Frank Wells following his near-fatal slip above the Vacas River. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

The indefatigable Steve Marts, cinematographer on all seven summits. (Credit: Rick Ridgeway) (Credit: Rick Ridgeway) [image]

Rick Ridgeway (left) and Frank still have trouble with swollen rivers even on the easier 'ruta normal.' Aconcagua 1983. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

Ice-climbing seminar. Yvon Chouinard (left) coaches d.i.c.k on proper ice-climbing technique near base camp, Aconcagua '83. (Credit: Rick Ridgeway) (Credit: Rick Ridgeway) Taking five at 16,200 feet, Camp I on Aconcagua. (left to right) Dan Emmett, Frank Wells, Rick Ridgeway, Gary Neptune. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

Days end as seen from Camp I on Aconcagua, 16,200 feet. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

Dawn light at 20,500 feet, Aconcagua. d.i.c.k (left) and Frank take a break on the first summit bid. (Credit: Rick Ridgeway) (Credit: Rick Ridgeway) [image]

Almost there: Gary Neptune (yellow) and Yvon Chouinard near Aconcagua's summit. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

Success at last! Aconcagua, d.i.c.k and Frank's first summit as a team. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

The big one. Everest, 29,028 feet. (Credit: Galen Rowell/High and Wild Photo) (Credit: Galen Rowell/High and Wild Photo) [image]

The '83 Everest team: (bottom) Rodney Korich; (first row, left to right), Jim States, Steve Marts, Peter Jamieson, Yogendra Thapa, Ed Hixson; (second row, left to right) d.i.c.k Ba.s.s, Phil Ershler, Larry Nielson, Gary Neptune, Frank Wells; (rear) Gerry Roach. (Credit: Jim States) (Credit: Jim States) [image]

Trekking to base Camp, just beyond Tengboche Monastery. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

Chorten memorials to Sherpas killed in the Icefall on previous expeditions. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

Sherpa cook prepares dinner at the '84 Everest base camp. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

Ice-climbing practice near Everest Base Camp. Frank rests on top of a large serac. (Credit: Rodney Korich) (Credit: Rodney Korich) ABC cameraman David Breashears with his 25-pound video camera-recorder. (Credit: Ed Hixson) (Credit: Ed Hixson) The Sherpa puja ceremony at Base Camp, to guarantee "good luck" on the climb. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

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Crossing a creva.s.se in the Western Cwm at a little over 20,000 feet. (Credit: Rick Ridegeway) (Credit: Rick Ridegeway) [image]

Ascending the fixed ropes on the Lhotse Face with the Western Cwm in the background. (Credit: Jim States) (Credit: Jim States) [image]

Color commentator Rick Ridgeway gets Frank's reaction on learning the first team made Everest's summit. (Credit: Ed Hixson) (Credit: Ed Hixson) [image]

South Col Sunrise: second team heading for the summit. (Credit: Gary Neptune) (Credit: Gary Neptune) [image]

Frank and d.i.c.k meet Sir Edmund Hillary in Kathmandu, June 1983.(Credit:d.i.c.k Ba.s.s Collection) [image]

Mt. McKinley-Denali-20,320 feet, The West b.u.t.tress on the right skyline.(Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

Arrival at the Kahiltna International, McKinley. (Credit: Robie Vaughn) (Credit: Robie Vaughn) [image]

With Steve Marts on board, Susan Butcher mushes up the Kahiltna Glacier.(Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

An evening break in the storm at the 17,200 foot camp. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

Postholing through deep snow at 18,000 feet on summit day, McKinley. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

The summit ridge of McKinley. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

The highest point in North America, Frank and d.i.c.k on the summit of McKinley, 20,320 feet. (Credit: Robie Vaughn) (Credit: Robie Vaughn) [image]

Kilimanjaro, 19,340 feet, highest peak in Africa. (Credit: Leo LeBon/Mountain Travel) (Credit: Leo LeBon/Mountain Travel) [image]

Roughing it in the proper British tradition. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

d.i.c.k and Marian Ba.s.s.(Credit:Kevin Wells) [image]

Safari lunch, a pleasant interlude before returning to rock and ice.(Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

Kilimanjaro Approach: The climb starts in equatorial forest and ends in perennial snow. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

Frank in front of Kilimanjaro. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]

Scrambling on the Machame Route, approaching the crater rim. (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) (Credit: d.i.c.k Ba.s.s) [image]