Mountains can mesmerise and destroy. I’m going to spoil the books Into Thin Air, Annapurna and the 2015 movie Everest so please come back later if they’re on your to do list.
There's something I didn't mention in my last post - the small matter of the Himalayas. Although the world’s highest mountain range is shared between India, Tibet, China and Nepal, eight of the ten 8,000m-plus peaks in the world and more than 250 6,000m-plus peaks make Nepal the roof of the world.
The lofty, glacial beauty of mountains strikes me with awe. I’ve never had a desire to climb them but I’ve always found them entrancing, probably because I come from flat-as-a-roti-pan London. Just being among mountains is exhilarating, especially when you realise that there are things so much bigger and greater than you and the perpetual scurrying between the limited compass points of your life. The mountains have been sombre witnesses to millions of years of earth’s history and will be there for millions of years after us. But they are also as changeable as some kind of a wild animal, with a tempestuous nature to be wary of.
Mountaineering took off as a sport in the early nineteenth century, with the Swiss leading the way, distinguishing themselves as elite guides. By the 1850s, groups of British climbers were ascending the Alpine peaks with Swiss, Italian, or French guides leading to the first ascent of the Matterhorn in 1865. The Alps might have been conquered but to this day, climbers still flock to pit themselves against the sinister north face of the Eiger, which has claimed over sixty lives. This seemingly melodramatically-entitled documentary about its' north face leaves you thinking that actually, 'Eiger: Wall of Death', is pretty appropriate. Throughout the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, mountaineering fever led to peaks in the Andes, Africa and North America being conquered one by one.
So, why the mountain-conquering craze? In answer to a journalist’s question as to why he wanted to summit Mount Everest, George Mallory, the renowned British climber famously replied, “Because it’s there… Everest is the highest mountain in the world, and no man has reached its summit. Its existence is a challenge. The answer is instinctive, a part, I suppose, of man’s desire to conquer the universe.” As the nineteenth century turned, the old European empires began to crumble and the Great War was followed by yet another world war, perhaps the Western world was looking for new places to stake its claim? Mallory returned to Everest in 1924 and was last seen on the way to the summit with his climbing partner Andrew Irvine. Mallory’s frozen body was found by climbers on the mountain’s north ridge in 1999 and remains there to this day.
By the early twentieth century, the final frontier in mountaineering was, without doubt, the Himalayas. The stories of the expeditions that have tried to conquer the Himalayas are compelling.
Ruling passion
The race to plant the first flag on top of Mount Everest was won in 1953 by the New Zealander Edmund Hillary and Tibetan Tenzing Norgay. It was an accolade that had been coveted ever since Everest was first mapped as the highest point on earth in the Great Trigonometrical Survey of India in 1856.
But in 1950, a French expedition first conquered a peak above 8,000m. Maurice Herzog, who led the expedition, recounts events with the thoroughness of a captain’s log tempered with bursts of emotion in his book, Annapurna. The sheer amount of people and equipment to manage and the months of mapping the route before they could even begin to scale the mountain is astounding. As an historical account it's also really interesting and very much of its time. It’s a romantic, boy’s own tale of brotherhood in the face of death that has inspired generations of climbers, including Joe Simpson of Touching the Void fame (a jaw-dropping tale of life and death in the Peruvian Andes).
Summit fever sets in when Louis Lachenal asks Herzog, “If I go back, what will you do?” Herzog writes:
"In an hour or two, perhaps, victory would be ours. Must we give up? Impossible! My whole being revolted against the idea. I had made up my mind, irrevocably. Today we were consecrating an ideal, and no sacrifice was too great. I heard my voice clearly: “I should go on by myself.”"
Both Herzog and Louis Lachenal made it to the summit but lost fingers and toes in the process, putting an end to their climbing careers. Herzog went on to become a national hero while Lachenal faded into obscurity and died in a skiing accident a few years later.
"In an hour or two, perhaps, victory would be ours. Must we give up? Impossible! My whole being revolted against the idea. I had made up my mind, irrevocably. Today we were consecrating an ideal, and no sacrifice was too great. I heard my voice clearly: “I should go on by myself.”"
The descent of Annapurna is even more harrowing, as the monsoon sets in and serious frostbite creeps ever closer.
‘Behind them I was living in my own private dream. I knew the end was near, but it was the end that all mountaineers wished for – an end in keeping with their ruling passion. I was consciously grateful to the mountains for being so beautiful for me that day, and as awed by their silence as if I had been to church.’
Both Herzog and Louis Lachenal made it to the summit but lost fingers and toes in the process, putting an end to their climbing careers. Herzog went on to become a national hero while Lachenal faded into obscurity and died in a skiing accident a few years later.
Sagarmatha speaks
Tibetans call it Chomolungma, ‘Mother Goddess of the Earth’ and to the Sherpa people of Nepal it’s Sagarmatha, ‘Forehead of the Sea and Sky’. It’s interesting that Sherpa porters (Sherpa is an ethnic group) on the British expeditions to the Tibetan side of Mount Everest in the 1920s apparently didn’t even have a word for ‘summit.’ The very idea of climbing the mountains was treated with suspicion and considered disrespectful to the gods who resided there. However nowadays, climbing mountains has become a commercial enterprise and the sherpas (as in the mountain guides) are renowned for their mountaineering ability. The burgeoning climbing industry in Nepal has become an essential part of the economy, for better or worse. Here’s an interesting account of the infamous brawl between Western climbers and the sherpas on the mountain last year. The 2015 documentary film, Sherpa, directed by Jennifer Peedom started out to capture the lives of these unsung heroes but was interrupted by last year’s horrific earthquakes and ended up documenting the fallout. (Frustratingly it’s not yet been released on DVD and having missed it in the cinema I haven't seen it yet).
I've also got to mention Into Thin Air, written by Jon Krakauer (see my earlier post about Into the Wild). It's an eye-witness account of the terrible events on Everest in 1996 when eight climbers were killed. I went into reading it without knowing much about climbing - you really don't need to. It's a riveting tale of commercialism and fatal human error at high altitude.
Krakauer was advised by his publishers to wait until sufficient time had elapsed after the tragedy but he felt he needed to write the book pretty much immediately; as a result the account is tinged throughout with survivor's guilt. Although a journalist by trade, Krakauer is a climber and was seduced by the allure of climbing the world's highest mountain in order to write an article on the trip for Outside magazine, with whom the expedition leader had brokered a deal for the publicity. The expedition leader was Rob Hall, renowned as having been the first to successfully set up a commercial enterprise on Everest. He was a skilled climber and by 1996 had guided 39 clients, who had paid for the privilege, to the summit.
But his expedition, the Adventure Consultants, was by no means the only one on the mountain that season. The chance to climb the world's highest mountain, even if you aren't a professional climber, is a roaring trade. Rival expedition Mountain Madness was heading up, as well as Korean and South African groups and an IMAX film crew. On 10 May 1996, 33 climbers were trying to make it to the summit, resulting in bottlenecks at the Hillary step when timing was crucial. Krakauer emphasises that the human body is not built to function in the 'death zone', the cruising altitude of a Boeing 747 (7,000m to 8,000m plus). The brain swells and the body starts to shut down due to the lack of oxygen; high altitude cerebral edema (HACE) or high altitude pulmonary edema (HAPE) can occur and can be fatal within a matter of hours. Everest's summit is at 8,848m.
Ropes that should have been fixed in advance weren't, so these had to be sorted out and all the while a storm was heading towards the mountain. The time window to the summit was narrow - Rob's rule of thumb was to turn back by 2pm but this time he didn't enforce it and it was to prove fatal for him and others. Krakauer describes miscalculations not only on the part of the guides but everyone, including himself. The most intriguing aspect to this is that acute mountain sickness can affect judgement. For example, there were full canisters of oxygen stashed on the South Summit but Andy Harris, Rob's fellow guide, was too far gone with hypoxia to be able to realise this and radioed Rob with the wrong information. Rob desperately needed the oxygen in order to help one of the clients. Trying to piece together what happened afterwards must have taken a great deal of sifting through evidence and even then, we can never really know all the details. This is just one incident in a string of events that led to the fatalities. Krakauer's telling of it combines a reductive, journalistic approach with a tugging of his conscience and his heart. The pressures of getting paying clients to the top along with a journalist who is writing an article about you may have pushed Rob over the edge. Just last year there's been talk recently that the Nepalese government might ban novice climbers from attempting Everest.
At the end of it all you have to wonder whether it was worth it. But didn't the climbers die doing what they loved? George Mallory still lies up there and probably wouldn't have it any other way. Wasn't it by their own free will that the climbers went up there, knowing full well that they may not come back? So what are we so aggrieved about? The unnecessary waste of human life when there are people on the world struggling to survive on a dollar a day? Or perhaps we're upset for those left behind? Rob Hall's daughter was a mere speck of life when her father perished on the side of the mountain. It's a cruel ending to what could have been a glorious victory.
The final image of the 2015 Hollywood version of events, Everest, shows Rob on the side of the mountain, his lifeless body facing out over the Himalayas towards the rising sun. The image does make you wonder whether the goddess, Sagarmatha, had finally stirred and taken her vengeance on a man who helped turn her into a commodity.
Krakauer was advised by his publishers to wait until sufficient time had elapsed after the tragedy but he felt he needed to write the book pretty much immediately; as a result the account is tinged throughout with survivor's guilt. Although a journalist by trade, Krakauer is a climber and was seduced by the allure of climbing the world's highest mountain in order to write an article on the trip for Outside magazine, with whom the expedition leader had brokered a deal for the publicity. The expedition leader was Rob Hall, renowned as having been the first to successfully set up a commercial enterprise on Everest. He was a skilled climber and by 1996 had guided 39 clients, who had paid for the privilege, to the summit.
But his expedition, the Adventure Consultants, was by no means the only one on the mountain that season. The chance to climb the world's highest mountain, even if you aren't a professional climber, is a roaring trade. Rival expedition Mountain Madness was heading up, as well as Korean and South African groups and an IMAX film crew. On 10 May 1996, 33 climbers were trying to make it to the summit, resulting in bottlenecks at the Hillary step when timing was crucial. Krakauer emphasises that the human body is not built to function in the 'death zone', the cruising altitude of a Boeing 747 (7,000m to 8,000m plus). The brain swells and the body starts to shut down due to the lack of oxygen; high altitude cerebral edema (HACE) or high altitude pulmonary edema (HAPE) can occur and can be fatal within a matter of hours. Everest's summit is at 8,848m.
Ropes that should have been fixed in advance weren't, so these had to be sorted out and all the while a storm was heading towards the mountain. The time window to the summit was narrow - Rob's rule of thumb was to turn back by 2pm but this time he didn't enforce it and it was to prove fatal for him and others. Krakauer describes miscalculations not only on the part of the guides but everyone, including himself. The most intriguing aspect to this is that acute mountain sickness can affect judgement. For example, there were full canisters of oxygen stashed on the South Summit but Andy Harris, Rob's fellow guide, was too far gone with hypoxia to be able to realise this and radioed Rob with the wrong information. Rob desperately needed the oxygen in order to help one of the clients. Trying to piece together what happened afterwards must have taken a great deal of sifting through evidence and even then, we can never really know all the details. This is just one incident in a string of events that led to the fatalities. Krakauer's telling of it combines a reductive, journalistic approach with a tugging of his conscience and his heart. The pressures of getting paying clients to the top along with a journalist who is writing an article about you may have pushed Rob over the edge. Just last year there's been talk recently that the Nepalese government might ban novice climbers from attempting Everest.
At the end of it all you have to wonder whether it was worth it. But didn't the climbers die doing what they loved? George Mallory still lies up there and probably wouldn't have it any other way. Wasn't it by their own free will that the climbers went up there, knowing full well that they may not come back? So what are we so aggrieved about? The unnecessary waste of human life when there are people on the world struggling to survive on a dollar a day? Or perhaps we're upset for those left behind? Rob Hall's daughter was a mere speck of life when her father perished on the side of the mountain. It's a cruel ending to what could have been a glorious victory.
The final image of the 2015 Hollywood version of events, Everest, shows Rob on the side of the mountain, his lifeless body facing out over the Himalayas towards the rising sun. The image does make you wonder whether the goddess, Sagarmatha, had finally stirred and taken her vengeance on a man who helped turn her into a commodity.
Comments
Post a Comment