Songs My Mother Taught Me; A Collection Of Short Stories

Nils

You have approximately 48 hours once you enter the death zone.

Your body starts slowly shutting down almost immediately, so once you get into the death zone (the last 800 metres of the mountain) you have- at the very most- 48 hours to reach the summit of Everest and get back to the safety of Base Camp (which, contrary to popular belief, is not at the bottom of the mountain. It's more than halfway up). The moment you enter that last 800 metres, your body begins to literally die. It's pure willpower that will get you to the peak and back down again at that point. Your body is working against you.

Of the more than 200+ deaths on Everest, almost all have happened in the death zone. Summit fever they call it, when climbers are so obbessed with reaching the summit, they'll ignore the fact that their body physically can't get them there.

It's not a bad death, really. You huddle up, then slowly the pain and terror and cold ebbs away and you just fall asleep, never to wake up again.

They leave most of the bodies there, of course. Just leave them wherever they have died. There are several reasons for this- number one, it's far too risky for the Sherpas to try to get them back. In 1984, two Shepas died trying to move Hannelore Schmatz's body. She had died in an attempt in 1979 and for the next five years she made for a gruesome sight for all those who climbed the mountain- frozen in a laid back, almost causal position, eyes frozen open, hair blowing in the wind. After the failed attempt to move her, they left her where she was until one summer they went for the first climb of the season to find her body gone, blown over the edge during a winter storm.

Another reason for leaving the bodies is more practical- in low altitudes people weight 5x more than they do in normal life. Try carrying a solid, immovable corpse down a mountain as your body is shutting itself down- you'll soon find out why it's almost impossible.

The final reason is perhaps the most noble. Most climbers agree that, should they die (and there's between 6 and 15% chance they will, depending on the weather that year), their bodies should be left there, as a testament to their brave spirit, in the way that sailors are buried at the sea.
It's often said that Everest is the the world's largest open air graveyard- but it's only for those beautiful and crazy enough to dream. To spent eternity on the mountain is an honour, a consolation prize. You didn't survive- but you get one hell of a graveyard.

The first time I climbed Everest the sight of bodies shocked me. I had been told to prepare for the sight of brightly coloured ski clothing containing well preserved human remains, (pushed carefully off the path by the Sherpas but used as pointer markers to find your bearings) but nothing quite prepared me for the moment that I had to step over the twitching leg of a man who had been caught in a storm the day before. Seeing those on the brink of death is the worst thing. It's human nature to want to save our fellow man but all of use know the score. If you get stuck in the death zone, nobody can help you. It's just not possible, they don't have the strength to carry you out of there and you will die up there in the snow. That's what we all agree to before we begin the climb. We all know the risks- and when you encounter one of those poor souls in their final moments, all you can do offer up a prayer for them and focus hard on making sure that you're not next.

So yes, bodies are part of the Everest experience. You will see them and you have to be prepared for it. You can travel in a group of 20 people but ultimately, it's just you and the mountain. If you survive is between you and nature, no one else can help you. All climbers know that you save yourself first, or you both die. Everest has no time for heroes.

I remember the first time I summited the mountain that I felt no sense of achievement, no rush of adrenaline. Few people do. It's not the majestic standing on top of the world, raising your arms and surveying the clouds below that non climbers probably picture.