SUCCESS!!!
SCOTT AND ANGUS HAVE SUMMITED MOUNT EVEREST ON MAY 21, 2008

Sorry for the delay in this posting. I have been pretty busy over the last few days.

This posting seems a little disjointed to me, but it is the best I can do at this time. I am at BC and very tired and there are a lot of things going on on the mountain right now. I will expand on this as I know more.

There is so much to tell I am going to break it down into several posts. I will start with the ascent, then the descent to camp 4, and then work my way back to base camp where I am now.

Wednesday May 21,
Camp 4 - SUMMIT - Camp 4.
Camp 4 elevation 7900m
Summit elevation 8850m
Total gain 950m (just over 3000ft)
Same descent.

WE KNOCKED THE BASTARD OFF!
These famous words were spoken, off the cuff, by Sir Edmund Hillary after he and Tenzing Norgay climbed Mount Everest for the first time in 1953. Those words would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Mountaineering is supposed to be a gentleman's sport and gentlemen do not speak that way. However, having just climbed the thing I am inclined to agree with Sir Ed.

This is as far as I got after my summit. I was exhausted and my eyes were burning. So I put my PDA away, put drops in my eyes and lay in a prone position until the following morning.

Thursday May 22, Camp 2 6400m.
Angus and I are back at camp 2. It is cold and snowing, but we got in before the worst of it. We are both quite tired, but are safe and healthy.

I will tell the tail of our summit now:

We arrived at camp 4 on May 20. The whole team was there and we were feeling well. We ate, drank, and rested and were heading up the mountain by 9:00pm.
I wore, from the inside out, my long underwear base layer (top and bottom), my Gore-Tex bib pants, my windstopper vest, and my one-piece down suit. On my hands I wore my big high altitude mitts, on my feet I had my Millet Everest boots, liner socks and mountaineering socks, and on my head I wore a balaclava, a TNF windstopper hat, my headlamp, and my oxygen mask.
In my backpack I carried one 4L oxygen bottle, one liter of water in an insulator, my down sweater in case I got cold, my goggles, and that's it.
Inside my various pockets I had snack food, a 1L water bottle, sun glasses, photos of my family, and sun block.
We left the South Col on a beautiful night, the stars were shining, the full moon was lightning our way and it was warm. Too warm actually. I came prepared for the mean Everest. This was the nice Everest and I started to over-heat in about three minutes.
Out of camp we walked on broken rock for about five minutes and then we hit the snow. The snow slope starts out pretty gentle. As it gets a little steeper a fixed line appears. We are walking on glacial ice with a thin covering of snow. In places there is no snow and the ice shines blue in my headlamp. It is also as hard as concrete and my crampons barely scratch the surface.
We start to head straight up the glacier at this point. This initial slope is not too steep (25 degrees or so), but it feels much steeper. I use my jumar to help with upward ascent. The easiest way to do this, when the conditions are right (which is infrequent), is to straddle the rope, push the jumar forward, grip the handle with one hand, put the other hand on top of the first and pull while stepping up hill at the same time. This method helps to spread the exertion between my legs and my arms. Often I am walking with both feet pointed away from each other at about 45 degrees from center. This provides good traction on the snow and ice, but gets uncomfortable after many hours of doing it.
We were going up the slope for 2-3 hours (it is difficult to keep track of time). The pace was pretty slow as there is always someone moving slow at the head of the line. When that person pulls off for a rest it seems there is always another slow person ready to take their place. Sometimes a group of the fast cool people will make a big presentation of passing, only to then become the slow people.
At about hour three, or maybe it was two, we hit the rock. Nobody ever told me about this. It was slabby shale, on a slight angle, covered with broken shale like gravel. Let me tell you, this was far less than fun. When I would take a step forward it would either skid around on the shale or it would sink in the gravel and slide backwards. And the high steps were just as fun. Every so often, quite frequently actually, there would be a step I would have to surmount. The step was always just a little too high to be comfortable, and was a foreshadow of what was to come later. At these steps I would need to look for the best foot placement, hike my foot up, hoping my crampons would gain purchase, grab my jumar with both hands and give it all I had. At the top of the step I would gasp for air.
A quick note about oxygen and pacing. I LOVE oxygen. I think I may even use it at sea level. Climbing Everest is extremely difficult, but doing it without oxygen would be near impossible for me. I found it gave me tons of energy and really soothed my cough.
Pacing is critical, at least for me. As I have stated in previous posts I use a slow and methodical breathing and stepping approach. Many other people use a sprint and gasp method. They take 7-10 fast steps and then stop, bend over and gasp for breath for a minute or two. The challenge is that these two approaches are not compatible. All the Sherpa use the sprint and gasp method, and about 70% of climbers do as well so that was the pace for the summit bid. I need to use my pace to keep my breathing under control, but I always end up with some sprinter gasping down my back. I also run into the sprinter in their gasping phase. It is a pain in the butt.
Back to the story; This loose rock continued for 90 minutes or so, and then I hit the steep rock wall. It was about 20m of pain. This shale is at about a 45 degree angle, sloping in all directions, with uneven stepping and not made for crampons. What this means is that you jumar with all your might, skidding around, and gasp for breath from the exertion. Eventually getting to the top of this rock band I was met with the next snow band.
I forgot to mention two other things. Five minutes after I left camp my headlamp died. Fortunately there was a full moon to light my way. At each anchor transition I would turn my lamp on and it would last for all of about five minutes and then shut off. It was atop of the aforementioned rock band that I replaced my headlamp batteries that worked fabulous for about 30 minutes until it once again died.
The other thing I wanted to mention is about my new, expensive, fabulous, high altitude gloves; I absolutely HATE them. They are super warm, but have no dexterity at all. I knew this so I wore liner gloves inside them so I could take my big mitts off at transitions, and switch lines with my liner gloves. The problem was that once my liners got a little damp with sweat, they were like Velcro with the mitt liners. Every time I tried to remove my mitts the inners would get pulled insideout. This was a huge pain so I took off my liners and did the switching with bare hands. Fortunately it was not a really cold night.
This snowband carried on for 60 minutes or so to The Balcony. This slope was more to my liking. I was better able to pace myself on this slope and regained some energy here.
From what I understand, this is a low snow year. Much of the rock I have encountered thus far is often under snow and, therefore, much easier to travel across.
The Balcony is one famous piece of real estate on Mount Everest. However, one does not just show up their. You have to earn it. It took me 5.5 hours to earn it and it was one of the toughest things I have done.
The Balcony can be easily identified because it is one of the only substantial flat spaces on the summit push. It can also be identified by a prominent big rock, an abundance of used and waiting to be used oxygen bottles, and by the stunned and exhausted climbers that are standing around in a daze.
This spot is used to eat and drink what you can, switch to a new oxygen cylinder (thus the piles of empty and full bottles), and to regain energy for the continued push.
I do not know what the statistics are but, I would bet that the majority of people who turn around on summit day do so at The Balcony. It is that hard won and demands such a great physical price. I was spent while at The Balcony, but The Balcony is also tantalizingly close to the summit. It is slightly more than half way.
Even though I was physically exhausted I knew I could not stop. I had to dig down and keep going. I decided that if the weather remained good (it was amazing) and I did not have an equipment malfunction, I would not stop. I would find the energy reserves necessary. This energy came from a mantra I would repeat to myself every time I wanted to stop, every time I though I could not go another step. This mantra was: Susan, Amy, Colin. My wife and children. This may sound a little corny, but every climbers has their motivator and this was mine. When I would repeat those names in my head my world would shrink and I would focus and the task at hand. I would find the energy for the next push.
Leaving The Balcony is a nice stroll along a gentle slope, for about 200m. Then it starts up a ridge to the South Summit (another famous landmark I will talk about in a moment).
The ridge starts up from The Balcony and the makes a hard right and gets steeper. It is mostly snow and not too bad going, but it is very long and again demands a big physical price. However, the cost of admission to the South Summit is a long band of rock near the top of this ridge.
The sun started to rise as I was on this ridge. It was amazingly beautiful, but I was really to tired to care at the moment. The full moon was shining brightly to my left and the sky was starting to lighten to my right. I could see mountains for as far as I could see. It was a post card. I tried to care, but I just couldn't.
The sun came up just as I was nearing this rock band. As climbers we stood in cue and waited for our turn at torture. The snow up to the start of the rock climb was weak and continually gave way under our feet, causing us to expel even more energy.
Once at the face I clipped onto what seemed to be the best rope and heaved myself up one step, then another. I gasped for breath regardless of my supplemental oxygen. I went as fast as I could so as to not delay the climbers behind, but this pace was quite slow. Several times I would rest my head on my arms and repeated my mantra just to keep going. After a while the angle eased off and the going became better.
At this point the sun broke the horizon and it was truly beautiful. I grabbed my sun glasses and stuck them on my face. Going snow blind is a huge concern up here. Basically, without protection the sun will burn your eyes and you will temporarily loose your sight. This happened to me while climbing in Ecuador. It is scary and very painful. I did not want it to happen again.
When I put my sun glasses on, the combination of my body heat, my sweat, and my moist heavy breathing in my mask, acted to instantly fog my glasses. I could hardly see a thing. Think of looking in the mirror when you get out of the shower. You can sort of see, but not much. This was my vision climbing to the South Summit. I was forced to pull my glasses slightly away from my face so I could look down and see where I was going. This allowed sun light in the bottom of my glasses and left my eyes exposed. I knew I was taking a chance here, but I really had no choice. This gap would also allow in any wind to clear the lenses, but it was such a beautiful day there was no wind. Here I am, praying for wind on Everest.
I slowly made my way up the ridge and eventually made it to the South Summit. From here I could see the rest of the route laid out before me. It was stunning, one of the most beautiful visions I have ever seen. I sat down to rest and take in the view. I could see the Hillary Step and the heavily corniced summit ridge. In this great weather it looked benign, almost fun, but in bad weather this place is a killer. In this area in 1996 many climbers lost their lives, including Rob Hall and Scott Fischer.
I gathered my strength and started down. Yes I said down. This is the only time on the push to the summit that you have to go down. There is a beautiful snow slope that leads from the South Summit to the Summit Ridge.
At the bottom of the snow slope I was overtake by exhaustion, relief, and anxiety, and this caused me to have a breathing issue. I felt like I had run out of oxygen, I gasped frantically for breath. I became scared as I could not catch my breath and rescue was not an option up here. I tore my mask from my face gasping for what little air was available in the thin atmosphere. Fairly quickly I got my breathing under control and continued up, but this litter spell had cost me dearly. My energy reserves were almost gone.
To get to the Hillary Step I crossed a long line of sharply sloping limestone that was like a skating rink for my crampons. In years with more snow I imagine this to be an easier traverse.
Finally I was looking up at the Hillary Step. It is only about 20 feet high and looked like nothing compared to the rock I had already climbed. The most difficult part about the step was to determine which rope to clip onto.
Before I continue with the Hillary Step let me tell you a bit about the rope on Mount Everest.
The main rope use up to camp 4 and some above is what is called 'Korean'. I suppose this is because this is where it is manufactured. It is a braided polypropylene rope of about 9mm. This is the type of rope you would buy at the hardware store to tie up your boat, or to secure something to the roof of your car. It is not something any climber would ever associate with climbing, except that is, in the Himalayas. I have been on three Himalayan peaks and it is standard issue. It is very strong and tough and cheap. It is replaced every season so it is considered disposable.
The other type of rope that is used above camp 4 and in a few other locations is a 5-6mm accessory cord. This is a smaller version of a real climbing rope. This rope is used high on the mountain and in areas that are considered more dangerous. It is light to carry and has a reasonable strength, but it is a little disconcerting when you are looking at a 4000-foot fall and all that is holding you (and many others at the same time) is a 5-6mm cord. Again, this would never be done in other parts of the world, but is standard on the biggest and most dangerous mountains in the world.
So these are the ropes that hung in front of me on the Hillary Step. There must have been 20 or more of them. I chose the one that looked the newest and the least faded and clipped on. The other ropes, while a hindrance on the way down, help on the way up by providing hand holds. I grabbed a hand full of rope, hoisted my foot up high and began to climb the Hillary Step. There was very little snow so it was mostly a rock climb. A moment later I was gasping for air having just climbed the Hillary Step.
At the top of the step there is a tricky move over a slanted rock to a narrow ledge. Once on the ledge I moved towards the true Summit Ridge.
The Summit Ridge is a beautiful ridge that slopes on a 45 degree angle on one side and 90 degrees on the other. The one side falls away about 5000 feet while the other side falls away 9000 feet. Not a place to slip.
From here I could see the summit, but it was still agonizingly far away due to my slow speed of ascent.
After about another 15 minutes I took the last steps to the summit of Mount Everest. I was standing on the top of the world.
What did I do when I got there? I threw my hands up in the air in a jester of victory and then sat down in the snow and cried. So many emotions were flooding through me at that time. I was exhausted beyond belief and I had just achieved a life time goal. Unfortunately I was too tired to really appreciate my accomplishment. I hoisted my camera over my head and took some random shots. I took a personal photo and had my Sherpa take a few summit photos of me. The photos were not the best, but at the time, I did not really have the energy to care. I regret that now, but at the time it was the was it was. I was sitting about 10 feet below the true summit where there are flags marking the top. I wanted to go to the top for a photo, but there was a big group there sitting, talking and taking photos. When I approached, their Sherpa said not to interrupt his group and would not allow others to the top. They hogged the summit for close to an hour and by the time they were leaving, I had no energy left to go up there for a photo. Once again, I regret this now, but it is difficult to understand how extreme fatigue plays with your mind.
I had reached the summit of Mount Everest on May 21 at 8:30am. It had taken me 11.5 hours to get there. Angus arrived about 30 minutes before me, and Al B arrived about 15 minutes after me.
All too soon it was time to go. I had a long way go go down.
I will continue the descent story in the next posting.

Messages:

There are so many messages I don't really know what to do. Over the next few days I will respond to the messages with questions as best I can. For those who were offering congratulations I will thank you all together. You have all been a part of this journey with me and I appreciate your support.
I want to especially acknowledge Susan, Amy , Colin and my family for the support they have provided me. I love you all.