Page 29 - 2020 AMA Winter

increases safety, reduces arguments and allows better mobility. For the likes of our team, we have climbed harder and more technical routes elsewhere, but on Everest you must conform to the Government ruling. This drives a misunderstand- ing that Sherpas are the only reason other climbers’ summit; not entirely true, most proficient Alpinists would be able to climb it in alpine style, but it is simply not allowed. That said, this added safety precaution drives operators to take on clients who, if faced with failure of the fixed lines, would be completely stranded. Of course, like everything in Nepal, this system also costs more money, driving the costs up each year.
Entering the start of camp three after a marathon on the steep face, I was absolutely ready to dive into my sleeping bag. What I forgot in my elation was that our tents were another 300 metres above. At sea level that would be a two-minute jaunt, but nearing 7000m up, it took me another half an hour to collapse into the porch of our tent. Exhausted and completely demoralised that we had left team members below, I struggled to get stuck into my admin.
In my professional role, I spend much of my time instructing soldiers in Infantry tactics and skills. For us, it is crucial that when you enter a period of rest you administrate
your kit and self, getting into dry kit and preparing for the next operation. Climbing is no different and so, every time you crawl into that tent after the long day, you must do the same. Perched high in the Himalayas, this process of undressing, changing clothes, cooking your dinner and preparing your sleeping system is beyond exhausting. Failure to do so here would of course kill you, it is as simple as that. During the season four people lost their lives because of this, lacking the discipline to do the right thing. I said I wouldn’t glorify it and I’m not; it is simply an incredibly dangerous environment.
Sleeping at camp three proved almost an impossibility for myself and my tent mate. Huddled together, spooning one another, we waited patiently for sunrise ready for the day of days. From this point we would essentially be on the move, bar a pitstop at camp four for 48 hours straight. For breakfast I managed half a mars bar and a few strawberry laces, not exactly a great start. The morning toilet admin that followed was equally as hilarious as it was dangerous. Our tents were fixed on a ledge with a near vertical mile drop off the side, so any form of squatting was absolutely a two-man job. Linking arms with one of the team members, he did his business, we swapped places and I did the same. You’ll be pleased to know we
managed a solo wipe. Best to laugh it off, we are all human.
With minimal gear packed we set off to camp four, an iconic steep traverse that skirts across the Lhotse face, over the Geneva Spur and eventually onto the South Col. For us, this would be the first time this expedition we used oxygen, drawing a light flow to aid our bodies ability to function and keep warm. The use of oxygen in our case was incredibly light, a 4kg bottle would last us the entire day, giving us just enough to keep the red blood cells oxygenated. This isn’t always the case though, with the aforemen- tioned fixing, desperate operators and demanding clients, some on the mountain were solely reliant on oxygen. A high flow rate equals high consumption, something that leads to real issues if you run out, let alone the physical burden to carry it up.
Hour upon hour we kicked our crampons into the ice, silent and completely focussed on what lie ahead. It was a busy day and there were fifty plus people moving up the mountain, this is Everest after all. As a team we slowly past slower climbers, enticed by the reward of a few hours rest in the next camp. At the bottom of the yellow band, an aptly named rocky outcrop, we came across a complete commotion. An American climber was slumped on a rock, shouting
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