Island Peak—April 16-17

Slept pretty well despite a bit of Khumbu cough. Hiked about 2 1/2 hours up from Chukhung to Island Peak Base Camp, a camp spread with tents of all different colors and two foul-smelling stone outhouses. The weather was quite breezy, so we took refuge in the dining tent. Organized all my gear for the climb; I wanted it all to be ready for our start in the middle of the night. Ate dinner around 5:30 and got in my sleeping bag by about 6:30. Dozed on and off until Mingma brought me tea around 1:15 AM. Ate a bit of oatmeal and set off on the trail just before 2 AM, temperature a balmy 28 degrees (surprising at almost 17,000'). I was wearing a short-sleeved tech shirt, a zip-neck long-sleeved tech shirt, long underwear bottoms, insulated bib pants, a fleece vest, a Turtle Fur neck warmer, a buff over my hair, a hat over the buff, a Primaloft jacket, expedition mitts, sock liners, tall hiking socks, and a helmet and headlamp. Not long after we started, I had to take off the fleece vest.

Ang Nuru led, I was next, followed by Daniel and Ben. The first few hours, we climbed scree, steep scree, and sometimes had to cling to the sides of rock faces. A couple huge gusts of wind made me feel as if I would be plucked right off the mountain. Climbing in the middle of the night is always a bit surreal. Many times I glanced up and could see headlamps at an impossible angle above. Was there really that much more rock before we crossed onto the glacier? I felt jealous as we passed lights in High Camp. Sleeping at 18,500' probably isn't worth the payoff of knocking off 1,500 vertical feet from the climb, though.

Just as it was getting light, the coldest part of the day, we sat by the side of the trail to change into our plastic boots (Ang Nuru and Ben had been kind enough to carry our 2nd pair of boots for us so we could climb the rock and scree in our day hiking boots) and don our harnesses and crampons. I had thrown toewarmers into my plastic boots before leaving camp, and I could feel one's lumpiness in my right boot. In our haste to get moving again, I couldn't lace my inner boots correctly before cinching up the outer boots and zipping up the built-in gaiters. Me feet never felt right in my Millets the entire day.

negotiating crevasses on the glacier (photo by Ben Jones)

We clipped into a fixed line as we crested the top of the rock cliff and then eventually eased onto the glacier. We roped up and wove between the crevasses, jumping over a number of them. We turned the corner, and the headwall and summit ridge came into view. Holy shit. None of the photos or videos I had seen did it justice. The headwall was huge and very steep, the people on it mere specks. We made our way to the base, and it was immediately clear that there was a traffic jam. One group was trying to retrieve a fixed line; other people were attempting to descend without rappelling devices. Ang Nuru managed to skirt us around one group, and up we went. We clipped a safety carabiner onto the fixed line right above our ascender. The slope was so steep that I had to use my ascender to pull my weight up, often front-pointing because there was no other way to get my whole crampon on the slope. My hand began to cramp; my arm ached. At about 5 or 6 pickets or ice screws, we had to stop and change over to the next portion of fixed line.

the 100-meter headwall

from the top of the headwall, so steep you can't see the bottom

(photo by Ben Jones)

 Progress was excruciatingly slow as I struggled to heave my body over each shiny ice-encrusted 50-degree mogul. It felt as if we would never reach the summit ridge. Sometimes I had to stop to rest and breathe for what felt like 30 seconds or more before I could make another move. After what seemed like hours on that wall in the bright sun, we finally reached the ridge.

at the top of the headwall, about to start up summit ridge to the right (photo by Ben Jones)

 We clipped into the new fixed line (no ascenders) and inched our way up the knife-edge ridge about 20 minutes to the small bit of space on the summit. It was overwhelming to sit in that amphitheater surrounded by Lhotse, Makalu, Ama Dablam, and other 7,000- to 8,000-meter peaks. I was so depleted—I'd never dug so deep or been physically challenged to that degree. Frankly, I was shocked that I was up there.

view from the top

prayer flags with names of women who have battled breast cancer

At the summit (20,300') with Daniel and Ben

Ang Nuru, without whom I probably wouldn't have made it to the summit

Ben reminded us that we were now halfway there. Rather than swear at him, I bit my tongue. Besides, I knew this was true—we still had to get off this mountain. We used an arm-wrap on the fixed line to descend the ridge and then started a series of rappels down the headwall. A couple times I slammed my right side into the ice as I tried to look down towards Ang Nuru, waiting for me at the next protection on the slope. Then I almost didn't clear a crevasse near the bottom. Finally, we reached the base of the wall after arm-wrapping the last bit of fixed line, and we roped up to travel down the glacier. I was so spent that I lost motor control, falling several times. Running on empty.

The descent seemed interminable, especially the scree. The wind was blustery and almost knocked me over. When we finally reached Base Camp, I found it hard to eat much of anything. My climbing food had consisted of instant oatmeal, a Bounty bar, a small package of coconut cookies, and a couple Shot Block cubes. Can't even imagine how many calories I expended. Ben informed us that we would have to walk the 6 to 7 miles back to Chukhung. I admitted that I didn't think I could do it. He said it would be better for me than crawling into my tent at camp. Plus, we'd run out of kerosene, so we had to move back to town. Bataan Death March under cloudy, gusty skies.

Definitely the most grueling physical experience ever. I still can't believe I made it. Ben's patience, Daniel's "up" attitude, and Ang Nuru's helpfulness got me there. Mingma kindly carried my light pack back to Chukhung for me. Crusty nose, parched lips, sore calves, and a stiff neck and upper back from the jumar and front-pointing. From the moment I put on my sunglasses at sunrise, half of my vision was obscured and fuzzy in my left eye. I assumed it was a smudge on my glacier glasses, but it was still there when I took them off at the end of the day. Rather disconcerting.

More tired that I've ever been, I crawled into my sleeping bag at 7:30. Beautiful bitch of a mountain.

Now we head down the Khumbu Valley—our aim is to fly out of Lukla on the 22nd.