to proceed upward to the summit earlier in the day. At higher altitudes, the unsteady air and winds had initially seemed tame. Lower, the intensity of the storm trapped climbers in their tents. The catastrophic winds raced up the slopes of K2, hitting those still on the mountain’s highest points late in the day.
THE NEXT MORNING, THE SKIES were clear. The weary Mountain Madness climbers arrived at Broad Peak Base Camp, and Chris was reunited with a relieved Keith. There, surrounded by warmth, the climbers tracked the progress of their friends descending K2. By radio, the group listened as Canadian climber Jeff Lakes made his way down from Camp 3, buoyed by the encouragement of his waiting teammates. “You’re almost there, Jeff. You’re almost there,” they called over their radios. After stumbling into his tent at Camp 2 at 1:30 a.m., Lakes died a few hours later, a victim of a combination of altitude sickness and hypothermia.
Scott’s telescope was positioned for a scan of the mountainside, hoping to see signs of life. Alison and several other climbers were still unaccounted for. “I’m looking at something that looks like a slide path,” he said. His sunglasses were off, giving him better vision as he looked through the scope. Lopsang inched forward, then Chris and Keith, who’d walked the short distance from their tent to join the vigil.
“It’s . . . I’m looking at about a fifteen-hundred-foot slide path, and I see something at the very end of it,” said Scott. “Oh god, I think it’s a body.” He stepped away from the telescope, giving others a turn to confirm. One by one, the group verified what they saw. A body was lying in a snowfield, most likely having been picked off the summit of K2 in high winds and tossed down the slope. Another day would pass until the body’s distinctive clothing would be identified by teammates as that of Alison Hargreaves.
Chris squinted into the telescope at two figures digging in the snow at a point lower on the mountain. Her gaze stayed fixed, hoping it was only an illusion. She stepped away, horrified. The climbers were digging a grave for another teammate, further driving home the danger of this sport.
As their Broad Peak expedition closed out, Chris knew several things to be true. Her skills as a climber were exceeding Keith’s, as she noted in journal entries referencing her conflicted desire to begin climbing routes she knew he was incapable of. She realized that, unlike Alison, she was limited in her ability to climb and be a parent, later telling a reporter she couldn’t envision having children at that moment in time—“I don’t even own a plant!” she’d said. As for her own family, Chris’s parents were ever-present in her mind.
I dream about my mom and dad quite a bit now. The older I get and they get, the more I miss them. I realize I have the best parents in the world!
THE FOLLOWING MORNING AS THE Broad Peak group made plans to trek out, they were met by climbers returning from K2, including Peter Hillary. Scott led them to the telescope, where they lingered, looking for any indication that other remaining teammates might have survived. Finding none, they turned to the task of alerting the world. Peter Hillary placed a sat phone call to his father, Sir Edmund. Scott reported the news of Alison’s death via Outside Online, the newly launched web version of Outside magazine.
The days and months following saw a rash of criticism about Alison’s “selfishness” in choosing mountains over motherhood. Chris ignored those opinions, focusing on Alison’s fortitude and her own future on alpine slopes.
CHAPTER 6
TURNING POINTS
GERI LESKO HELD THE PHONE to her ear as she listened to Scott ramble. It was a few months after he’d returned from Broad Peak. They’d been talking for over an hour, covering the expedition and how he’d handled the climbing team and their colorful personalities. Geri had come to know Scott as more than a climber. His children occupied much of his time when he was in Seattle. He loved being a father; that role added a layer of tenderness to the exterior everyone else knew. At present, though, his voice gushed with excitement about some recent ice climbing and the upcoming expedition he was leading to Everest.
“The ice climbing in Ouray was awesome, but nothing compared to what Everest will be,” he said. “Geri, you really should think about coming.”
“Maybe next time, Scott. You got me to a big peak in Asia once, but this spring I’ll be hiking in Yosemite.” Since meeting Scott, she’d admired his spirit. The business wisdom he lacked seemed overshadowed by pure passion for the outdoors, which was captivating. In return, Geri had become a trusted adviser. Scott respected her opinion and generally wanted her input on many things, personal and professional.
“Suit yourself,” he said. “I’ll check in with the office, so call them if you want the scoop and I’ll send periodic dispatches through Outside Online.” The media outlet was sending him with a talented writer and climber named Jane Courage. “She’s top notch,” said Scott. “She’ll do great. She’s the right one for the job.”
“Sounds like it,” Geri said. “If I don’t talk to you before you leave, be safe. It’s so thrilling, but be careful up there. What day do you plan to summit?”
Scott was always safe. “We’re aiming for May 10, but you know how these things go with the weather . . . Hey, enjoy Yosemite.”
Geri thanked him and replaced the handset on the receiver, making a mental note of May 10.
TENGBOCHE MONASTERY IS AT 12,687 feet in the Khumbu region of northeastern Nepal and is the largest Tibetan Buddhist monastery in the area. Given its location on the path to Everest Base Camp, the surrounding village caters to mountaineers heading off to achieve their dreams. Beginning in April, when the spring climbing season kicks off, the village hosts tent cities and lures climbers into such delights as buying cake from some of the highest bakeries in the world. The views from the village provide stunning moments of realization about the journey ahead as Everest rests behind several other notable peaks, each one a gut check to climbers hoping to summit. Before heading out along the river valley to Everest Base Camp, climbers and high-altitude team members traditionally stop at the monastery, where many hope for an audience with a Tibetan monk to receive blessings on their expedition.
There exists a natural tension between those wishing to scale mountains in this part of the world and those who believe the peaks are sacred and should remain undisturbed. Whether deference is given to those seeking to protect the mountains is often a very personal decision. Some climbers look for signs or meaning in the words of spiritual leaders, while others remain focused on goals unhindered by such influences. Few laws exist to provide guidance for alpinists or spiritual figures—only the laws of the heart.
Jamling Norgay, the son of Tenzing Norgay, the first Sherpa to scale Everest, with Sir Edmund Hillary, once spoke about this balance:
You know we look at the mountains as sacred, and to this day some of the Himalayas remain off limits to us. They are such holy mountains that to climb them would be wrong. For many of us, especially on Everest, mountain-climbing has become our livelihood. But we go to the mountain with respect. We know that Chomolungma [the Tibetan name for Mount Everest, meaning Goddess Mother of the World] lives there, and so prayer and ceremony must precede any attempt to climb the mountain. We place prayer flags wherever we go. The mother goddess of the world lives on Everest, and our prayers are sent to her by the wind horse. The flags blowing in the wind are the sound of our prayers, our communication with the goddess. In prayer, we learn the respect with which we must approach the mountain. The deities can be defiled by people who abuse the mountain, who pollute it with garbage or try to climb it without showing proper respect. Ignorant people sometimes climb mountains. They climb only as an expression of their ego. It is very important that climbers respect the mountain and the people who live here.
Scott’s 1996 Everest expedition team had made the hike to Tengboche, and they settled in for the night.
“The evening was clear, cold and calm,” Jane Courage recalled. “The peaks were exhilarating. A natural, euphoric high.” She prepared to file a report with Outside Online, one of many that would be sent back