In the Fall of 1999, Chris Warner and Brad Johnson set out to climb Cho Oyu, the 6th tallest peak in the world. The weather that season was horrible. Chris and Brad were among the few people that summited. And at least three people were caught in avalanches: including Chris. 

 The Beginning of the Journey

Tingri, Tibet

Sunday, August 29, 1999

Chris Warner and Brad Johnson left Kathmandu for Cho Oyu on the morning of Saturday Aug. 28 at 6:00 am. All of our equipment and food for 7 weeks was loaded inside a large bus with our cook, (Ram), Chris and Brad occupying the front seats. We were glad to be on our way as spending much more time in the capital of Nepal would only increase our chances of getting sick from something we had either eaten or breathed in from the dust off the streets. Driving out of Kathmandu and into the surrounding hills was lush and green. In all directions we could see rice paddies thriving from the monsoon rains which were slowly ending. The cool morning was replaced with hot humid air as we left the Kathmandu valley and entered the foothills of the Himalaya.

On this day our journey would take us from one valley to another on very winding roads. We followed rivers the size of the Mississippi, then gained altitude up steep river gorges. Because of all the rain that's fallen in the past few month many parts of the road were covered by landslides. At times we were not sure if we would be able to pass, as the mud and ooze was half way up the wheels. We crossed our fingers that we would not get stuck. No one would have liked pushing abus through knee deep mud..

By mid-day we reached the border with Nepal and Tibet (China). We were required to stop and transfer all of our food and equipment from our bus to the Chinese truck that would be with us for the next two days. We were also met by our Chinese interpreter and our Liaison officer. They would accompany us to Cho-Oyu base camp. We spent two hours standing in line waiting to show our passports, visas and various other papers that had to do with our expedition. Finally we were allowed to cross into China and continue on our journey to the village of Nyalam 30km away.

These 30km involved some of the most incredible mountain driving either one of us had ever experienced. The road was cut into the side of the canyon walls with waterfalls at times cascading down onto the vehicle as we passed through. Most of the road was one lane with few places to pull over. We could only imagine the arguments that two passing trucks would get into. One of the trucks had to drive backwards, twisting the steering wheel, like wrestling a fish, to keep from plunging off the cliff's edge.

The rain had begun again in earnest, which only made the road a mud bath. The wind shield wipers were old and twisted and barely swished. The driver could barely see the hood of the truck. We inched along.

Finally the road left the gorge and climbed out into the high mountains above. We were now driving up onto the Tibetan Plateau, occasionally getting glimpses of snow capped mountains through the clouds. We arrived into the village of Nyalam (12,330 ft.) about 4:00 pm and were shown to our hotel by our liaison officer, which turned out to be a cozy Tibetan lodge. The remainder of the afternoon was spent wandering around this two street village which was rather dirty and not a place that one would want to spend anymore time in than necessary. After a dinner of rice, vegetables and goat meat we were both tired from the long day and went to bed early.

Traveling Across Tibet

August 30, 1999

Chris and Brad awoke just after the sun came up and we went up on the roof of our hotel to have a look around the valley. There was a full moon setting over a snow covered, rocky peak and off in the distance we could see some very high, glaciated peaks shinning in the morning sun. It felt great to be in Tibet. Because we had left Kathmandu a day earlier than planned and had driven farther than planned on our first day, we are now actually two days ahead of schedule. These two extra days may well come in handy in the next month as our ability to summit depends heavily on our health, good snow conditions and good weather all coming together when we need it the most.

We ate a good breakfast of Tibetan bread, (similar to a giant, 1 inch thick, fluffy pancake) and eggs, then loaded our bags into the truck and began our journey again toward the high Tibetan village of Tingri.

The road out of Nyalam followed a beautiful river valley high above the tree line. We passed many Tibetan villages surrounded by fields of wheat and potatoes. All these fields were varying shades of green with some of them beginning to turn golden, as they got closer to being ready to harvest. Many of the Tibetan people were out tending the fields and stood up to watch us as we passed by. We stopped frequently to take photos and were shocked at how much the children begged for candy or money. It seems only here, were there is a large flow of western tourists passing through, that the children have gotten into the bad habit of begging. Other parts of the country and well as other countries we have visited, we have found the children do not beg as much because they are not accustomed to seeing seemingly rich people.

The road wound its way from the valley up over a 16,400 ft. pass and down again into a much broader valley basin. It was here that we really felt that we were now on the Tibetan plateau. The average elevation here in the valleys is 14,000 ft. We can feel the altitude a bit because we both have slight headaches. We know we have to pay attention to these symptoms and be sure to drink plenty of fluids to help our body adjust the high altitude. Everywhere we look is a barren landscape. Only in the valley bottoms, where there is water, are things green. There is not a tree in sight.

After about five hours and 80 miles of driving over rough and bumpy roads we finally arrived in the village of Tingri (14,160 ft.) It is quite a large Tibetan settlement with, only 3 hotels. We convinced our liaison officer that we wanted to stay in the nicest one available, as the first one we looked at was rather dirty and run down.

So here we are in a country that still seems very wild and old except for the single road connecting Kathmandu with Lhasa (capital of Tibet) which brings tourists and 20th century items to a culture that still lives off the land herding goats and growing their own food.

We will spend one night in Tingri, before heading to base camp.

Brad Johnson

Advanced Base Camp: Cho Oyu

September 2, 1999

We were supposed to leave the Chinese base camp on Cho Oyo at 9:00 A.M. Nepal time11:15 Chinese time, but our yaks were nowhere to be found. Three yak drivers and ten yaks had arrived the evening before, we knew that, but during the night the yaks split for home. Who could blame them? Just past 11:00 A.M. three new yak drivers showed up after herding their yaks for hours up the valley. Our Chinese liaison officer quickly and forcefully pressed them into service. Yaks are cantankerous and powerful beasts; they do not accept the beast of burden role very passively. It took three or four attempts to get our gear loaded on each yak. Our failures were wild, rodeo style kicking and bucking, duffels boxes of computers and all of our climbing equipment was strewn in various directions. The Chinese and Tibetans laughed hysterically clapping, yak loading chaos!

  Our journey took us up a broad valley, carved by glaciers, a mile wide and hundreds of feet deep. The outwash plain of the glaciers, were waist deep rivers flowing at 33 degrees. The course we had to cross was at the shallowest sections, the deepest reached past our knees. To the relief of our yak drivers and Ram our Nepali cook. They held hands to fight the current, while the oldest Tibetan actually had to ride a yak to cross the rivers. Our first camp was reached at 4:00 P.M., no sooner had we arrived then it started to snow and rain. We were wet and shivering by the time our tents were set up. At this camp, 17,200' above sea level, we met an older German mountaineer, he crawled from his tent when we arrived, he had been sick for a week. I gave him a handful of antibiotics, which had a powerful effect on his tongue. He has since not stopped talking and will be following us to advanced base camp. He will definitely add color to the scene here.

We awoke to a perfect panorama, Cho Oyu and a dozen smaller peaks glistening in the sun. Today's hike was spectacular with expansive views, deep river valleys and the constant jingling of yak bells. We were the first expedition to arrive in ABC (Advanced Base Camp). During the next few weeks' fifteen additional groups will arrive. This place will resemble a sea of yellow dome tents and big boxy old kitchen tents. We plan on reveling in the peace, while it lasts. Brad and I felt the altitude quite a bit today, we had been pushing hard and really will benefit from the next two or three days of rest.

Chris Warner

Prepping for our recon

September 4, 1999

Brad and I have spent the last two days preparing our equipment and allowing our bodies to adjust to the altitude. We both felt the effects of our rapid gain in altitude. From 5000 ft in Kathmandu to 18200 feet at ABC in just six days. Thankfully, we only suffered minor headaches. We also walked around at about half speed there being too little oxygen to propel our bodies any faster. After two days and two nights here, we feel strong once again. Today has been a glorious day; I awoke at 6 am and went for a walk up the valley. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. By noon, we were wearing t-shirts and doing our laundry in a big tub. I even took a shower using a solar shower, which heated the water to about 60 degrees. This afternoon, we had a Puja ceremony. A Buddhist blessing of our expedition. Three Sherpas who are all devout Buddhists led us through a series of incantations blessings of our prayer flags and food offerings. Juniper branches and incense were burned. The prayer flags were strung from the rocky pedestal serving as an altar. Puja ceremonies are the traditional start of the climbing phase of an expedition. The ceremony will help assure us of a safe climb. Prayer flags will remain up while we are on the mountain. Each flag is imprinted with a prayer. The Buddhists believe that every time the flag flutters, a prayer is sent to heaven. A monk who I had climbed with before and will climb with again on Ama Dablam blessed our prayer flags. I am certain that we are in good hands. Tomorrow, we will leave ABC at six am and traverse the face of Cho Oyu to examine the SW face. We hope that a study of our proposed route will answer a lot of questions. Everything from what gear to bring to how many days of food and fuel we will need.

We will keep you updated

Chris Warner

The recon

September 6, 1999

Yesterday we journeyed from ABC to the base of the SW face of Cho Oyu. Our objective was to inspect the size of the mountain and determine if we could carve a new route on this notoriously steep ice and rock face. The trail up the valley was indistinct. Following along the ridges, the glacier covered 2-10 feet over the rock. Each season the trail is marked but the shifting glacier destroys it in a few weeks. In the lower part of the valley, the glacier is about 500 ft. thick. Its thickness combined with the steepness of the mountain slope and added weight of the rock caused the glacier to accelerate in many places. Where this has happened towers of ice called "seracs" were thrust up the rocky terrain we were hiking on. The setting is mystical. The trip up the valley took us 4.5 hours leading us to a beautiful glacial basin with 20 to 23,000 ft mountains forming the right wall and the west ridge and SW face of Cho Oyu forming the left and rear walls. The SW face rose 6600 feet above us. It is incredibly steep and has only been ascended 3 times in the past. The separate routes have been established, each with steep snow and ice climbing up to 70 degrees and pitches of 5.5 rock climbing at about 7900 meters. Brad and I hope to establish a third line to the right of the two. It will be a major accomplishment in our career climbing a new route on an 8000-meter peak. Unfortunately, the line we had dreamed of looked too difficult. It would have involved at least one day of extremely technical mixed rock and ice climbing from 7800-8000 meters. If we couldn't make it through that section we'd be in big trouble. A retreat would be nearly impossible. We've opted for a repeat of the Swiss/Polish route that lies near the center of the face. It really is a beautiful line with a high degree of technical difficulty on a remote face. Certainly worth repeating. OK, So now our route has been chosen. We have a very clear idea of what gear to bring. Now we must spend the next two weeks climbing high on the normal route to allow our bodies to adapt to the altitude. Meanwhile back at ABC four other expeditions have arrived. The peace of this high altitude oasis has been shattered. The circus tents are up; Korean rock and roll music blasts through the camp. It's beginning to look like Great Falls on Labor Day. I think the climb might serve as a pleasant distraction from the social intrigue and political maneuvering of the various expeditions. I can't wait to strap on my crampons.

Chris Warner

Acclimatizing on the Normal Route

September 8, 1999

Yesterday we shouldered our packs and carried a load to Camp 1 on Cho Oyo's normal route. Our plan is to climb and sleep high on this route in order to allow our bodies to acclimate. Camp 1 is at 21,130 ft. and can be reached in tennis shoes!! This year, though, the snow lays heavy on the ground and the last few hundred feet was ankle to shin deep snow. Being chickens, we stopped at the snow's edge, not wanting to get our hiking boots and socks wet. Next time we'll have our gaiters ready.

The hike was wonderful, and both Brad and I felt really strong. We even stopped at our high point to eat a few Peak Bars and Everything Bars. The packaging on both of these energy bars fills us with hope for the summit and huge muscle development. They even taste great at altitude, which most bars don't. We are trying hard to maintain our strength and weight for the summit push. It will be impossible to consume the calories needed for that ascent, and so we'll need to have some excess fat stored around our waists.

This phase of the expedition can best be described as the body prep phase. While we are consciously monitoring our food intake, our body is busy producing additional red blood cells and adjusting the pH of our blood. We'll need the red blood cells to grab every available bit of oxygen that enters the lungs. The more oxygen we have the stronger we are. For example at sea level my percentage of blood oxygen is 98%. Here at Advanced Base Camp, where there is approximately 45% of the available oxygen, my percentage is currently 83. This means I get out of breath easier. I can actually increase this percentage by a few points if I sit still and breathe very deeply, down to my belly button with each breath and slowly exhaling every bit of carbon dioxide that might be hiding in my lungs.

I expect that my body's ability to utilize the little bit of available oxygen will increase as we continue to climb higher. After climbing to 24,000 ft. and then returning to ABC, my body will be giddy from the amount of oxygen suddenly available. And that is what we are trying to achieve before climbing the South West Face.

Well, our plan to return with a second load to Camp 1 today was put on hold by a snowstorm that blanketed camp last night. Four to six inches fell, leaving the trail a mess. Thankfully, I took advantage of this opportunity to solicit the services of a Korean engineer and highly decorated mountaineer (Nanga Parbat, Broad Peak, Makalu, etc.). Despite having to sit and listen to a Korean version of Dust in the Wind, I was delighted when he rigged the solar panel directly to the computer. I can now send images and receive e-mails.

Chris Warner

Carrying Loads

September 9, 1999

Today Brad and I carried loads to camp 1. We are obviously getting very fit, making the climb of nearly 3,000 vertical feet in just over 3 and a half hours, while carrying heavy packs (about 45 lbs.). It is so good to feel strong, especially at this stage in the expedition. Camp 1 is pretty wild. There is a narrow ridge crest at 21,130 ft., with steep drop offs on one side and bergscrund on the other. There is space for about six or seven tents stung end to end. You seemingly need to crawl through each other's tents to get to the one on the end. We hacked a small ledge out of the drifted snow at the rear end of the ridge crest. When we return, tomorrow, we will put up our tent. We were afraid to leave the tent set up without us being there. The local ravens, known as goraks, typically tear tents apart if they think food is hidden inside. In the past I've had one tent destroyed while climbing in Nepal. Later on that same trip, a gorak opened the top zipper of my pack searching for food. It scattered all of my stuff, but found nothing. I watched this robber, helplessly, from a few hundred feet up.

Well it is snowing again at ABC. This has not been good for the route. This morning we looked up to see dozens of fresh avalanche tracks. We really need for this monsoon to end soon. At this point we will continue to make forays to camp 1. To go above that would be a bit too risky until the weather improves.

I'll keep you posted.

Chris Warner

A Beautiful Day at last

September 10, 1999

We have finally awoken to a beautiful day. The sun is shining and there is not a cloud in the sky. The wind seems to have shifted: blowing snow plumes off the summit of Cho Oyu and the surrounding 7,000-meter peaks.

The sunshine has shaken everyone from his or her tents. Streams of climbers, bearing loads are headed up valley. Some will climb to Camp 1 and drop their loads, while the rest will go as far as their bodies allow. I'd have to guess that this would be the first trip for many, since approximately 4 huge groups arrived in the last two days.

Well, Brad and I hibernated yesterday due to the intermittent snow squalls, which passed through camp. I had a blast, reading and working on the computer with my Korean engineering whiz. We think the bugs are now worked out. It seems as if the battery needed to be recalibrated.

We also conducted a little experiment: testing the blood oxygen percentage of the Koreans and a dozen Sherpas. The Koreans seem to be the roughest performing groups. Their % ranged from 65 to 81, with the majority in the low 70's. They have been complaining off headaches and fatigue. Today four of them are heading down hill to spend a night at a lower elevation. At least two Americans have descended in the last 24 hours due to an inability to acclimate. They are sadly headed home.

The Sherpas, which are zipping around like rabbits, actually tested low as well: mid 70's. This is a clear indication to me that they have an incredible capacity for work. Their pulse rates were even elevated (80's to 100's). The Sherpas show no signs of altitude related illnesses. Good genes.

Brad is leading the pack with an 88%, while I have 84%. We would both love to get our percentage into the 90's at ABC. Climbing high will help this. At this point our bodies aren't making rapid improvements at this altitude. We've kind of adapted to the altitude stress. Getting stronger means going higher, stressing the system and returning to ABC to create more red blood cells, re-adjusting our pH, etc.

Well, since the weather is so good, we are headed up to Camp 1 today. We will spend two nights there, climbing higher during the day. After this we will return to ABC for a few days of rest before climbing high again. This plan should allow us to be acclimated for the ascent of the SW Face.

We'll be back in touch upon our return from Camp 1.

Chris Warner

On the mountain

September 13, 1999

Brad and I have just returned from a two-night stay in Camp 1. It was a great opportunity to allow our bodies to acclimate to the altitude and to feel as if we are actually climbing a big peak. The climb to Camp 1 took us about 4 hours, with big loads. It began to snow an hour below the camp, forcing us to change into full on gore tex for the final slog. In all, 6 inches fell over the course of the afternoon and evening.

Sunrise was glorious. 20-24,000 peaks surrounded us. At 21,130 ft. we were standing above many of them. Of course, Cho Oyu stood far above us. We set out towards Camp 2 as soon as breakfast was completed. The route follows a lovely ridge system, passing rock outcrops. In the narrower places, we could look down on ABC on the one side (almost 4,000 ft. below us). We were following in the footsteps of a team of five Sherpas. These guys are the true climbing heroes of the normal route. They were out ahead, making the trail in knee-deep snow and fixing ropes on the steeper sections. While their knot tying skills may leave something to be desired, their strength and stamina are unparalleled. In addition to the intensely physical work they do for the climbers of the normal route, they earn their high level of respect because of the enthusiasm with which they accomplish their responsibilities. Every climber on this mountain already has a personal story to tell of the heroics and strength of the Sherpas. Brad and I followed the Sherpas trail to a giant ice cliff, which we ascended by a series of ropes fixed by the Sherpa team. At 22,500 feet, we turned back to our tent. We spent a second night at Camp 1 and then raced back to ABC.

We now plan to spend two nights at ABC. This will allow our bodies to adapt to the higher altitudes we just visited. Next we'll head back up the mountain, spending one night at Camp 1 and two nights at Camp 2. After that we should be ready for the SW Face.

Our obstacle at this point is the weather. It has snowed every afternoon and evening since we've been here. Typically four to six inches fall with each storm. Avalanches scar the pristine shaped Cho Oyu. As a mountaineer I am attracted to a peak with a thick mantle of hard snow, this soft and fluffy stuff has me worried. Everyone has a theory about the break up of the monsoon. The discredited pundits had predicted the first week of September as the end of the unsettled weather. Today's expert is predicting the 20th of September as the end of the monsoon. It's anybody's guess.

Well, it is time to shower off this week's dirt, using a solar shower. That and a change of clothes should make life even more satisfying.

Chris Warner

Heading back up

September 15, 1999

In a few minutes we will be departing for a three night trip up to Camps 1 & 2. The weather has finally broken (fingers crossed), and we are hoping to use this push to get fully acclimated for our summit attempt. There are either 16 or 17 expeditions on the mountain. ABC is like a nomadic village assembled for a small battle or religious holiday. There is an inflated sense of importance and a definite sense of impermanence. Some encampments within our village are more important (i.e.: they are headed by guides who have climbed this peak many times) and so get a steady flow of information seekers visiting them. Brad and I are the odd men out, since we are the only team actively trying to climb a different route. Most folks drop by for a visit, just to see if we are crazy. The experienced guides, however, are extremely grateful that we are here. They visit every day and invite us to tea or dinner in their tents. We're serving in part as morale boosters to their clients: making the regular route seems even more climbable. The guides are also facilitating our training phase. Russell Brice, of Himalayan Experience, has allowed us to sleep in his tents and use his sleeping bags and ensolite pads on the normal route. He's hoping we don't tire ourselves out getting acclimated. Russell and I have been friends for 10 years. Earth Treks is the American broker for his Everest and Cho Oyu trips. I'll be climbing Everest with him in the spring. Having been to dinner at his camp, I can assure you that he provides the nicest set up of any guide service. His dining tent is even heated!!!!! Andy Lapkas, of Adventure Consultants, has been offering his sage advice, earned from summiting 8 or more times on 8,000-meter peaks (and being the first person (and American) to summit on Everest, Lhotse and Nuptse (a famous trilogy). We are definitely in good hands. So it is now time to shoulder my pack and head to Camp 1.

Chris

Swept Away

September 18, 1999

On September 17, 1989, I took a five hundred foot fall on Shivling in the Indian Himalaya. The rappel anchor had popped. I rocketed through the air, over cliff bands and steep snow slopes. At 450 ft. I hit the snow the first time, and bounced outward. At 500 ft. I landed like a dart, stuck in the slope past my knees. I was OK, only a small scratch on my nose. But I wanted to cry like a baby (for 6 weeks that urge persisted). The tenth anniversary of that fall was quite eventful. Brad and I awoke to a spectacular sunrise at Camp 2. The altitude there was 23,400 ft. Both of us were feeling pretty good, all things considered. Our plan was to spend a leisurely day in the sun, perhaps climbing above 24,000 ft. At 10 a.m. we settled in for a nap. At 10:30 snow began to fall lightly. At 11 a.m. the snow picked up and I woke Brad. At 11:30 the snow was falling at a rate of 4 inches an hour. Visibility was reduced to a few feet. It was time to descend. We packed up as fast as we could. The trail was filling in. The snow reached to mid shin as I broke trail. 400 feet from Camp 2, Brad decided to stop and put his crampons on. I scouted ahead. Rounding a bend, and headed for an icy bulge, I noticed two cracks radiating through the snow pack. A slab of snow had formed and the cracks indicated that it was ready to slide. I tried to trigger the slab, jumping up and down near the fracture lines. It wouldn't go. I estimated the volume of the snow (400 sq. ft), 6 inches deep. It would run if I cut across it. Brad's weight would trigger it. But it was harmless. I spotted a small ice cliff I needed to get to. If I could get there, before Brad released the slab, I would be OK. I snugged on my baseball cap and zipped tight my one piece Moonstone gore tex suit. I was air tight and ready for a fight. At this point it is important to know that I was clipped to a fixed line (8mm cord anchor at both ends by giant snow stakes). With this added security I headed down the slope. Out of the blowing snow appeared another climber. He was heading upward in this dangerous blizzard. I yelled to him to get out of the way. "Avalanche!!!! Head down!!! Head down!!!!" He looked at me like I was an idiot: how could I know an avalanche was coming?

He tried to fiddle with his ascender, a device that locks to a rope and provides assistance for climbing fixed ropes. He couldn't make it budge. And he couldn't move aside to allow me to share the sanctuary of the small ice cliff.

I knew I was going to take the full force of the small avalanche head on. I braced myself as I felt the snow roll over my boots and shins. It was no worse than standing on the ocean's edge, resisting the undertow. It pushed against me for thirty seconds and I was confident of being able to withstand the pressure.

Brad, meanwhile, saw the fracture line propagate back to his left and across a higher dome of snow. The fracture line traveled at the speed of sound, cutting a few acres of snow and causing this to begin to flow. It picked up speed as it leapt a cliff above me. The snow was flowing six feet deep and hit me like a train. I was catapulted from the slope. My legs twisted, my body smacked into the ice bulge. I couldn't tell which way was up or down. I thought for a second that my legs were broken. Five seconds, ten seconds later, I was left dangling on the rope. I crawled to the edge of the avalanche, to the other climber.

I was hyperventilating; the air was knocked out of me. Between gulps of breaths, I told the other climber to yell to Brad and let him know I was OK. This came out in bursts of incoherent syllables. Brad was yelling, afraid I was dead or buried and needed help. The other climber still hadn't processed the events he witnessed. On my third try he finally figured out what I was saying and called up to Brad. I unclipped my carabiner from the rope and hurried past this climber. With my breathing under control, I insisted that he follow me down the mountain. He did as he was told. Instinctively we obey mad men.

The slopes below us were now buried in avalanche debris. I was running down hill, in snow past my knees. When I reached a flat, safe place I turned back to check on Brad and the other climber. Brad too was running down the slope. The climber had stopped in the middle of the fresh avalanche debris and took his pack off. I yelled and yelled at him at the top of my lungs. "Run, run!!! Avalanches!!!!" He put his pack back on and slowly followed. I waited for Brad and the climber to reach me. I looked at Brad and then the other climber. "I'm going to give you the lecture your mother should have........!!!!!!"

Hours later I told Brad about the fall on Shivling taking place on the 17th of Sept. Then it dawned on me: it was exactly ten years ago. What dumb luck 6 inches of snow fell on Camp 1 last night. We missed it, cuddled in our sleeping bags at ABC. The adrenaline has worn off. There isn't a scratch on my body. The sun is shining. A few lessons are deeply engrained in my brain. The most important of which is September 17th will forever more be rest day. And on September 17, 2009, I'm going to the beach.

Re-Assessing our chances

September 24, 1999

Due to the massive amount of snow that has continually fell during the past 3 weeks, climbing has been slowed to a virtual halt. The last few days have been a bit crazy around here. Three of the commercial groups are pulling out. Their retreat is causing a number of other groups follow them to Kathmandu. Right now they are headed back up the mountain to making summit bids over the course of the next few days. Korean and Japanese teams are heading up the normal route and should arrive at Camp 2 today. They hope to head from 3 to the summit on Sunday. This is not a particularly strong combination of climbers. Only one is very experienced, but I believe they will have Sherpa support to the top.

A solo Japanese climber is actually headed to the SW Face to try the same route Brad and I deemed to dangerous for our liking. We wish him the greatest success and safety. Strong winds blowing across the summit, have appeared to load even more snow on the upper snowfields of that face over the last two days. I am even more convinced that Brad and I have made the right the decision, given its current conditions. Obviously our Japanese friend has a higher tolerance for risk. That high-risk tolerance seems to be a powerful part of the Korean and Japanese climbing teams. On the normal route, they are going upwards, while the rest of us feel that the risks of avalanche are still too high. Once again, we wish them a safe and successful climb. None of us want to be on their teams though.

If the Korean and Japanese teams are successful on the normal route, it will open the floodgates and dozens of climbers will be racing for the top.

Brad and I will be among the first to follow. We are headed up to Camp 2 on Saturday. On Sunday, we will wait in Camp 2, watching the summit bid, hoping they don't trigger any avalanches and that they are able to push the route to the summit plateau.

If they can get anywhere close, we will leave Camp 2 at midnight and climb through the night, hopefully summiting on Monday morning. If we are unsuccessful, we will return to ABC and wait for the conditions to improve.

We are guessing that conditions on Shishapangma are similar. It hardly makes sense to go there at this stage in the game.

Well, while we've been waiting to climb, we've been busy on the social circuit. You can imagine that a group of almost 200 climbers and Sherpas can make good use of the down time. Last night Russell Brice's Himalayan Experience team hosted a party. It was quite a hoot, with dozens of famous climbers and wild wanna bes twirling about in their down jackets. Later in the evening, Brad and I were the dinner guests of the Adventure Consultants Expedition. Yak never tasted better.

It will be a lonely place after these teams of friends depart, leaving Brad and I as the only New Zealand/English/American team on the hill. I guess I'll have to practice my Slovenian.

Summit!!

September 24-26, 1999

As we all been following, the last couple of weeks have been based around a lot of wait and see on the mountain. Shuffling gear from camp to camp and doing the daily check in on the physical, mental and emotional status of team members. Each day demanding an analysis of weather and snow conditions compared to each climbers skills, physical ability in the moment and amount of time the teams had to make their decisions.

Friday became the day on the mountain for most teams to finally implement a decisions-the "wait and see" period had come to an end. Chris shared that since he didn't have clients he could go for it. We saw our very dear friend Russell and others depart and head down. The summit would not be for them on this trip. Simultaneously the Korean and Japanese teams made a strong push upwards.

Chris and Brad planned on being one day behind these two teams to take advantage of the shear numbers on these teams to brake and set the waist deep trail. As Chris and Brad went upward they would radio back to ABC with their progress. ABC would in turn call Earth Treks. With each phone call at odd hours of the day came exciting and hopeful news.

Saturday we heard that the conditions still appeared good up ahead. "All was holding steady!" Chris and Brad would continue. Early Sunday the word came that the Japanese and Korean teams with the Sherpas summited and were on their way back down! Chris and Brad were going for the final summit push.

Midnight Sunday we got the call that Chris and Brad summited and were on their way back down. They were at camp three. Ram,the cook , was on his way up to meet them at camp one. We anxiously wait for the word, hopefully by this afternoon, saying the guys are back in ABC. Now begins the phone calls to the anxiously awaiting mothers. 

Limping back to ABC

September 28, 1999

We've limped back to base after summiting the big hill. A day later, big grins are painted on our faces: we're pretty darned pleased with our climb.

The climb to the top was spectacular. We left Camp 2 (23,400 ft.) at 11:30 at night. The moon was full two days earlier and it still lighted the peak. I never turned my headlamp on. The hardest part of the climb was the ascent to Camp 3. The trail in the snow had been blown full of snow, it climbed straight up for 1500 ft., and my body wasn't yet awake.

Eight of us made the climb that night, Brad and I the last to leave camp. We quickly passed two Frenchmen and a Sherpa. Two other French climbers and our friend Patrick Kenny were a half hour ahead of us. The route was in excellent shape. The Korean-Japanese-Sherpa that had summited the day before did a great job. The hot sun and no wind of their summit day, combined with the sub zero temperatures of our summit day left the trail in great shape.

We climbed quickly, reaching Camp 3 in about 2.5 hours. Above this, through the rock band, the route was fixed with rope. I used this as a handline and made fast progress through the rocks and onto the slope everyone thought suspect of avalanching. I dug about a dozen hasty pits and did some quick shear tests. My tests confirmed what yesterday's summiters had proven. The slope was safe.

This was a good thing, because at this point we caught up to the French climbers and Patrick. Above this slope the mountain became less steep. None of us were using supplemental oxygen and our progress slowed with the altitude and the hours of exertion. It was just short of dawn and the cold was incredible. My core was toasty warm, inside my down suit, but my fingers were freezing. I had to stop at least a dozen times to warm my hands. The lack of oxygen was most obvious when it came to staying warm. I don't really think it affected my speed or mental capacity as much as my thumb's circulation. It is easy to see how people get bad frostbite on 8,000-meter peaks. I certainly wouldn't want to get trapped above 8,000 meters. I'm certain I'd lose some fingers.

Dawn was amazing, a wonderful distraction from the climb. Behind and below us (everything was below us), the peaks were turning shades of pink and orange. Brad and I stopped to shoot some video. It was a good excuse to catch our breath and revel in the beauty of the high mountains.

It really was beautiful on Cho Oyu. The summit was among the most spectacular that I've visited. The views were breathtaking: Everest, Lhotse, Nuptse, Kanchenjunga, Jannu, Ama Dablam and the whole Khumbu to the east and Shishapangma, Manaslu and Annapurna to the west. We summited at 8 a.m. and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The whole world was lying there, waiting for us to drink it in with our eyes.

The climb to the summit was fantastic, the descent was torturous. We felt so good up top, we decided to return to ABC the same day. It took us 8.5 hours to reach the summit (a climb of 3,500 vertical feet), we spent one hour on the top. It took us 8.5 hours to get back to base. On the descent, already hard enough on the knees, I tried to slide down a long snow slope, lost control, whacked my forehead with my ski pole, twisted my right ankle and knee and came to a sudden and violent stop feet away from a Japanese woman. I tried to laugh it off, embarrassed as I was. My knee is still killing me.

Brad and I were warmly welcomed back at base. Most of the big groups were heading home, without giving the summit a shot.  Folks were busy packing and 50 or more yaks were tethered about. Everyone dropped what they were doing to hear our tales. We ended every story with our admiration for the Korean-Japanese-Sherpa team that preceded us to the top. We would have never made it if they hadn't put in the amazing effort of breaking trail from Camp 3 to the summit. Brad and I are honored to have followed in their footsteps.

Of more than 300 climbers who came to Cho Oyu, only 40 summited during the post monsoon season of 1999.