When you lie back in your sleeper seat flying from London to Hong Kong, kick back for the movie champagne glass in hand, the pilot may tell you that the jetstream will push the plane along that little bit faster so you will land early.  A wind that can take 10% off the flying time of your A380 is a powerful force and when it hits Everest and Lhotse it is funneled through
the South Col and out over the Kanshung Face.

The South Col is a wide, white bleak place, littered with broken tents and climbing gear and scattered with rocks.  While the larger rocks may give you privacy, they also unfortunately may reveal the remnants of other frail humans who have ventured here and not made it down.  At approximately 8000m it is a very inhospitable place.  It was from here on Wednesday that we set off for the summit of Mount Everest.  We had climbed up from camp 3 on the Lhotse Face, across the Yellow Band and through a snow bowl and over the darker and friable rock of the Geneva Spur.  The climb had taken about 4 hours and my left foot which had got very numb approaching camp 3 seemed to be no worse (of which more anon).

The weather forecasts which had been so consistent from both our Swiss and Antarctic orecasters had unfortunately begun to show higher winds and precip. We knew a large group was one day behind us so to delay our climb would mean more people on the mountain – causing bottlenecks and safety issues.  As we sat in our tent getting smacked by the wind, we looked at a window for a traditional old-style midnight departure.  Having spoken to a few other climbers we then drew this earlier to 10pm, as soon as the winds and snow had abated.

I had already been lying in my down gear and windsuit in my sleeping bag since 6pm, so when we made the move, our sherpas helped me with the rest of my gear like a medieval knight – crampons on, ice axe to hand, two Poisk oxygen cylinders in my backpack, mask over my face.  My biggest concern was whether the heated footbed Dennis had lent me and Mike had jury-rigged would work for my left foot.  Climbing Everest was only acceptable if the result included all fingers and toes.  With the problems I had been having which I will detail in a separate blog, a summit forecast of minus 37 degrees meant frostbite was a real issue and I had passed very unhappy people on the way down with severe frostbite only days earlier.

Into the dark we went, our guide Mike Roberts leading with Sange Dorje, me following with Kami Rita (already summited while fixing ropes on May 5) and Rinjin (first summit), then Dennis accompanied by Pasang Bhote and Lakhpa, up the triangular face.  Little did we know that at this very moment our Swiss forecaster emailed base camp with the message “do not leave the South Col”!

As we climbed the snow began to fall faster and the wind whipped in from the west.  Those ahead of us on the mountain were having trouble breaking trail in the deepening snow. Eventually we passed them and Sange Dorje and Mike led, postholing in knee-deep snow up to the Balcony.  We paused here briefly for a drink, though the wind-driven snow made it a short break.  At this point we were halfway through the climb and it was pitch black. However as we reached the south-east ridge the moon appeared and the snow eased off. At this point I could see the South Summit ahead, over a climb of several hundred metres of mixed snow and rock.  The cloud was floating below us around 6000m, so above that level I could see tens of peaks lit up in the moonlight. Sange Dorje pressed on, an absolute massive effort, and we followed him and Mike to the corniced South Summit, the second highest peak
in the world, as dawn broke.  It was only at this point that I could see the summit ridge itself.  We dropped down into into the lee of the South Summit for a rest, a drink and something to eat (Kendal Mint Cake).   The battery pack on the electric footbed I was using, from being stuck at a burning level of heat (my mantra to survive the pain being “it’s better than
frostbite) had switched off as the snow infiltrated my gaiter on the push up the South Summit rocks. I took this time to get it going again.

Now I was psyched.  It looked like I was going to summit, digits intact. The airy ridge to the Hilary Step looked inviting, despite the heavy cornicing on the right hand side to the Kanshung Face.  The sun was up and I was more focused on trying to breathe through my oxygen mask without fogging up my glacier glasses. I was second onto the Hilary Step (Sange Dorje already being up it).   A few moves in a snow gully on the right got me almost halfway up, with a move to the left onto rock.  I then executed the “Tenzing Flop” – the top of the Step has a rock slab angling from the void on the left to a vertical face on the right, with a tempting crack on the right to put one’s foot into.  However, one’s foot tends to get caught and
therefore the flop, swinging one’s legs to the left over the void and swivelling around, is the preferred method of overcoming this section.  I am not sure how elegant I looked but I was up. From here a fairly easy snow walk of 20 minutes took me to the top of the world. The Forgotten Irish flag was raised on a cold Himalayan peak at 728am at 8848m on May 19 2011..

This post was written by Emer, Basil’s wife.

Basil telephoned from the South Col at 7.40 am Irish time. He is delighted, but also very tired. The going was heavy. There was a lot of fresh snow, and he thinks that Mike thought about turning the team back.

But they didn’t turn back and arrived at the summit at 7.25 am Nepal time. Descending to the South Col was also heavy going.

The team will rest today at the South Col and continue their descent tomorrow.

This post was written by Emer, Basil’s wife.

Basil has done it, he has stood on the top of the world.

In the end, Dominic, his team mate who summitted last week, telephoned me at 2.40am Irish time to tell me that Basil was at the top. I had to wait another 30 minutes to see it on http://www.adventureconsultants.com/adventure/Everest2011Dispatches/ But Dominic had a direct line to base camp, and, generously, used it for my
benefit. There was a split second of worry: a telephone call when your husband is on the Hilary step might be desperate news. But instant reassurance, and mutual congratulations from Dominic and me. I felt that I was on the summit myself.

Two things about the summit. I had read so many stories about people staying too long at the summit, and this causing difficulty on the descent, maybe because of weather and congestion. So I had exacted a promise from Basil that he would have a quick look around, take the photos, and get on down, fast. No messing around admiring himself and the view. And he wouldn’t take his sunglasses off. And he would wear factor 50. And he would practice using his oxygen regulator. And he
wouldn’t unclip under any circumstances. (Was I infantilising him, or placating myself?) At war with the litany of instructions was my mental picture of having a nice telephone call from the top of the world, something meaningful, enlightening, philopsophical. But the sat phone was left at camp 4 so the philosophy will have to wait.

This post was written by Basil’s wife, Emer Hunt.

This morning sees Basil at camp 4, on the South Col of Mount Everest and me walking Dun Laoghaire pier, Dublin.  “Can you hear me?”, from camp 4. “Yes”, and then I stop, the better to listen.  Again, the food; he is eating like a trooper.

Dun Laoghaire pier is one of my favourite places.  There is a clarity in the light.  You can turn back and face the town, and see the low rise buildings, punctuated by two spires.  In the slight melancholy induced by Basil being so far away, I think about those who left Ireland from Dun Laoghaire, thousands upon thousands who left for Liverpool and Holyhead.  I remember being on the ferry to Holyhead, about 20 years ago, when I met an old guy who said, fervently, that it was great to get back to the central heating.  No misplaced romanticism about Ireland, there.

Some who left Ireland shook the dust from their feet without regret, forged a life and accommodated their Irishness with a new identity. Others, either not as robust, or brutalised by the old sow eating the farrow, were not so lucky.  It is these that the Forgotten Irish campaign helps.

How unimaginable those migrants from Ireland in the 1940s, 1950s and later would have found a trip of personal exploration to Mount Everest. That was for another class of person altogether, men like Charles Howard
Bury of Belvedere House, Mullingar, companion to the doomed Mallory. And, of course, it is a luxury to go to Mount Everest, to pander to those notions of personal fulfillment really quite alien to the economic migrants of the 20th century.  But at the heart of the endeavour, is a desire to raise money to maintain a connection, between this  eneration and previous generations.  All amounts raised will go to charity: http://www.justgiving.com/BasilGeoghegan

Camp 4 is high (7906m).  It is notorious for wind, and it was windy this afternoon.  But now there is a light dusting of snow, and the wind has dropped.  They have to go higher, to the summit (8850m), and they hope to do this tonight, leaving between 9 and 10 pm, and to summit at dawn on 19 May.  He estimates that there are between 60 and 80 people attempting to summit tonight.

This blog post was written by Basil’s wife, Emer

Basil is really very good at phoning home.  When he had “man flu” at camp 2 earlier this month, I knew that something was amiss when I didn’t hear from him.  Towards midday in Dublin (4.30 pm Nepal time), I wondered why he hadn’t phoned and (can I claim telepathy?), the phone rang.  As soon as he starts talking about food, I pretty much know that all is going to plan.  Today is Thai chicken curry at camp 3 and, as I spoke to him, Dennis was heating it on the stove.

Camp 3 (7315m) is perched on the Lhotse Face.  It seems horribly precarious to me.  It is neither up nor down.  Whatever about the Duke of York’s ten thousand men, there are certainly some keen mountaineers awaiting the expected weather window on 19/20 May.  That’s still forecast, although there might be some snow.  But the wind hasn’t died
down yet; he can hear it whirling, and punching the top of the mountain like a freight train.  I see them peering up the mountain, reading the runes of the satellite forecasts back at Base Camp, ready to scamper up - and down – when the wind temporarily abates.

But now they are sitting tight at camp 3, and feeling good, sucking in the oxygen.  They leave for camp 4 (7906m) around midnight tonight, and that climb should take them about 6 hours.  Tomorrow is 18 May, and they want to leave for the summit (8850m) tomorrow night.  Man proposes …

Written on Basil’s behalf by his wife, Emer Hunt

It is odd to act as a reporter for somebody who I can effortlessly visualise in familiar locations but who is now in a place so removed from my life and, if I am to be honest, somewhere I would never have the guts to go.  I sat, looking out the window at the Liffey, speaking on the telephone to Basil, anchored through a tent to that vastly inhospitable place, pitching at a mountain, metre by metre.  He is a million miles away from the Queen’s visit, the peregrinations of Dominique Strauss-Kahn and mandatory disclosure of certain tax advantaged products in the Finance Act.

So, Basil is currently at camp 2, and will leave for camp 3 very early tomorrow morning (getting up at midnight, leaving at 1 am).  He had a very good rest over the last 24 hours. His appetite is excellent: huge breakfast, great lunch consisting of several things I have forgotten, but salmon certainly featured.  (I mentally see a Daliesque salmon on Mount Everest, but the photo – lifted from www.adventureconsultants.com – is more prosaic.)  The weather is still looking good for a summit attempt on 19 and 20 May and the Adventure Consultants team hope to set off on 18 May for the summit, and to greet the sun at the summit on 19 May.  The forecast is showing a chance of snow, but the wind might be ok.

Basil packed for the ascent to camp 3 today: climbing the Lhotse in temperatures ranging from minus 20 degrees Celsius to plus 30 degrees Celsius, all the gear, the gummy bears, all the summit charms. He spent the day preparing, packing, yes, but also mentally preparing to see (or, I feel, pass by without looking at) the dead bodies of those who did not return.  As he said this, he hastily added, but that’s not really a problem, don’t worry, as he remembered that, doubtless, I might reflect on the dead bodies overmuch.

The climbing team consists of Basil, Dennis, Mike and 5 sherpas. Sherpa Kami Rita, who fixed the ropes to the summit a few weeks ago, is in the team.  One sherpa, not sure who yet, will stay at camp 4 and will cook and, as Basil put it, be there for emergencies.

At camp 3, he will use oxygen, unlike when he was there for acclimatisation a few days ago.  And, at camp 4, there will be an extra 10 bottles of oxygen.  But camp 2 feels like home now, no breathlessness, good appetite, used to the oxygen-depleted air.  He leaves this home at 1 pm on 17 May, Nepal time.

Having a short nap this afternoon in anticipation of a midnight wake-up call tonight, leaving at 1am. For the climb up to camp 2 it will be me, our lead guide Mike Roberts, Dennis and a sherpa (though I am not sure who yet). We will then be joined by the rest of the Sherpa team for the climb proper.

Important decisions taken today included what I am going to eat at C3 and C4. My MRE/rehy options include pasta with tomatoes and basil, 3 cheese pasta and Thai chicken and rice. Breakfast is apple cinnamon porridge. Add in some digestive biscuits, tea and my Jaffa cakes pre-positioned at C3 and that’s pretty much it. My pockets contain Gu shots, Ride shots, Stinger gels and Gummi Bears. I also carry a tab if Strepsils to keep the altitude cough at bay. In a marvel of quartermastery the order for 12 packets of Strepsils turned into 1200 individual Strepsils when the heli made the delivery last week, so no shortages for AC expeditions for a long time.

DJ, Dominika and Jesse got down today and head to KTH on foot and plane tomorrow. I plan to see at least DJ there when I finish up as he waits for his daughter and family to come over.

So, before I head up the mountain, I feel positive and physically strong. The trail they have left I have already followed to C3. I know I react well to O2.  So if Chomolungma will keep the weather window open, I will accept her invitation to the summit, Lama Geshe’s  prayer card in hand.

Ad astra.

Dominic, Dominika and Jesse summited this morning at 4am. A great climb, taking only 7.5 hours since leaving the South Col. There had been a lot of back and forth regarding their attempt as the forecast showed winds picking up. Ang Dorje with 21 expeditions on this mountain made the call to go and the forecast then changed to confirm his gut instinct with an overnight lull. With a big push they have skipped camp 4 on the way down and gone directly to camp 2.

I had climbed with them to camp 3 so am thrilled for them. We had been a great team and it is tough to be on the sideline. Pressure or inspiration? I am not sure so I hope both

The good news for me now is that we have a target summit date of May 19th. The plan is to leave BC on Sunday morning very early, about 1am to try and climb in the early morning before the Western Cwm heats up. Then a rest day in C2, up the Lhotse Face to C3 on Tuesday. From C3 we will be on oxygen. It’s impossible to predict how O2 will effect an individual but I do know it gave me a real boost when I descended from C2 on O2 two weeks ago. I am confident it will give me a big lift.

Early Wednesday morning we will climb from C3 to C4 on the South Col. This climb takes us across the famous Yellow Band and the Geneva Spur. The South Col is a giant football field between Everest and Lhotse, with Nepal on one side and Tibet on the other.

We will probably spend less than 12 hours on the Col on the way up, setting off at 10 or 11pm. We will head up the Triangular Face to the Balcony, and then over the rocks to the South Summit. We hope to be there by Dawn and then climb the Hilary Step and summit ridge in the light. All being well we will get to the top by breakfast (Nepal time!). From the top, 48 hours to get back to BC for a cold Everest Beer.

So that’s the plan. We will post here and you can watch live dispatches on our summit push on Adventure Consultants website.

Having suffered my worst day ever on a rope when climbing to camp 2 with congestion, this rotation could not have been more different.  I set out with Ang Dorje and 3 of our team (Dominic, Dominika and Jesse, Dennis having taken a pass due to an ankle injury) on Monday morning at 1am.  Nam Gil, one of sherpas came with us to act as my own guide if I needed a different pace. I followed in Ang Dorje’s footsteps through the Icefall and felt all my strength come back to me.  The benefits of my early descent on oxygen previously and the drop-back to the clement altitiude of Pheriche (4270m) had allowed me rebuild and recover.  It was a starry night and not too cold. If there was ever a reason to climb at night, this was it.  To cap it all, as we entered the Upper Icefall I saw a star shooting over Nuptse, high to our right.

6.23am saw us reach camp 1, which is now just a single dome tent for AC and acts as a waystation on the 1200m climb from BC.  We picked up our ski poles which we had cached there for the walk through the Cwm to camp 2.  It was very cold at this point, as it always is just before dawn, so with arms swinging to get the blood flowing into some pretty numb fingers. As the sun came up after 8 it then turned into a frying pan with the heat and light reflected on every side.  Pasang the cookboy walked down from camp 2 with some tea and we finally got into camp, hot and frazzled but no worse, at 1015. At this point I should say DJ took a slightly different route through the Cwm and crossed the 5 ladder crevasse bridge – a man of steel like they make them in Warrington!

After a day’s rest we were off to camp 3 at 615am.  I had read and heard much talk of the dreaded Lhotse Face for many years. In addition, my failure to even attempt it due to illness last time and the delay in my schedule had been hanging over me like a personal cumulo-lenticular cloud for nearly two weeks.  Chomolungma was smiling on me however and the climb was enjoyable, requiring me to dig deep and bully my way up the fixed ropes at times, bu to get there in good shape nevertheless.  To sit at C3 and look down the Cwm, radioing back to BC that I had achieved this after the extra wait was a powerful thing.  I said goodbye and good luck to Dominika, DJ and Jesse as they went on oxygen to rest and ontinue to their summit bid.  At that point it was tough to turn around and drop back to BC as I felt so strong, but wisdom must prevail and I want to maximise my efforts when it is my turn. So using my rappel device I clipped in to the ropes and whizzed down the face with Nam Gil, skipping over blue ice and crevasses, to gt back to C2 for lumch.

After a night’s rest, I left C2 at 515am and threaded through the Cwm to the Icefall.  I am still baffled by the random use of wands to mark the route where they are equally used to mark crevasses.  It’s like playing blind snakes and ladders, so I tend to rely on looking where I am going, though today we were careful as there was some new snow on the ground, hiding the
smaller holes (the big ones could fit multiple houses so they are easier to see).  I descended to base camp with Pasang Bhote, who also came down with me when I was “patient” status on oxygen.  I think I was better company today.

So, time to regroup and wait for  the good weather.