North Col - Up, up, up... Avalanche!

“You’re going a little bit faster” encouraged Sonam over the dull thud of my crampon kicking into the knee deep snow which continued to fall heavily throughout the afternoon. We were back on the North Col - Matt (our guide) as well as Matt, Pete and myself. The ultimate goal of the mission was to spend 2 nights sleeping at the North Col and to make our way up to the 7500m ’marker’ as an additional altitude push and preparation for the tremendous challenges ahead.

The rest of the group had gone up and come down as their acclimatisation schedule was a few days ahead of ours. Pete, Matt and I had hung back at ABC a few days as wanted to get in some additional acclimatisation at 6200m and also wanted to wait for some better weather to roll in after what had been several days of gale-force winds and heaps and heaps of snow. Additionally, the prospect of going up with a slightly smaller team did have its appeal. So, all in all, we were an intrepid group of four, braving the elements and, with each heavy, plodding step, further committed ourselves to the adventure ahead.

The journey up the steep, icy face of the North Col, begins with a 1.5 hour ‘walk’ over some rocky moraine from ABC to ‘Crampon Corner’- a ’meeting point’ where climbers collect and deposit their crampons, harnesses and gear in big blue barrels strategically positioned at the outer perimeter of the Rombok glacier. Inevitably your crampons and harness - or anything that you urgently need - will ALWAYS be at the bottom of the barrel and will ultimately add an additional 20 minutes of ‘prolonging the inevitable‘ - something that I have managed to get quite good at.

One can easily get to Crampon Corner wearing hiking boots, but crampons are necessary in order to make the crossing of the cravasse pocked Rombok Glacier to the headwall of the North Col. Navigating the icy glacier takes about 25 minutes, leaving you to stare up at the giant wall of ice, the obstacle for the next 5 hours with a sense of both awe and dread. Normally, the entire ’journey’ up to the headwall of the North Col is fairly uneventful, the biggest challenge involving jumping a few gaping blue crevasses and figuring out how to use the ‘self timer‘ on a camera to get in a few token photos...

On this particular day however the additional level of complexity was provided by the blistering heat from the sun and radiation from the snow. It was absolutely sweltering. As I walked from Crampon Corner to the headwall I felt as if I was a ’boil in the bag’ meal in my raspberry-compot colored gore-tex jacket and energy was being sucked out of my body by the heat with every step. I also had an acute sense of dread that things were going to get significantly more complicated as I looked up at the sky - my Canadian roots kicked in and I immediately recognised the tell-tale signs of heavy snow - thick, grey, clouds.

The second time you go up the North Col is allegedly meant to be easier than the first because you know what to expect and because your body will be better acclimatised to the increase in altitude. The first section of the climb up the North Col is a very steep section that seems to go straight up leaving you to ascend at what feels like a snails pace. Because of the heavy snowfall the previous day as well as that morning, it was a bit easier to find purchase than on the bullet hard ice which we experienced last time. Sonam and , two sherpas stayed with me during the journey up. They also helped to take on some of my heavy load of gear which I would need on the North Col and the eventual summit attempt - down suit, warm sleeping bag (Rab 1100), big mitts, oxygen mask, nalgene bottles, food and snacks etc. Our tents and stoves had already been set up at the North Col by the sherpas several days before.

In spite of the weather, I was feeling strong up the initial 2.5 hours of the journey - step, step, breathe, slide jumar up; step, step breathe, slide jumar up….. Every few metres I’d look around and take in my surroundings - a grey sky, snow flurries, the giant wall of ice and snow with Everest looming ominously to my left. It was an awe-inspiring yet daunting sight.

I began to relax slightly and try to ‘enjoy’ as much as I could when suddenly I looked up and saw a ‘wall’ of snow sliding towards me from an icy-overhang about 5 metres above our heads. I knew immediately that it was an avalanche. It‘s hard to describe the feeling that went through me - I knew the avalanche wasn’t big enough to take us out but I don’t think that this would have changed my reaction. I just stood there, transfixed, watching the snow wall fall as if in slow motion as it hurled over the edge, landed about 2 metres to our left and continued to roll its way down the steep face of the Col. If it wasn’t for a good hard push from behind by Sonam I would likely have continued to stand there or it may have hit us or caused greater shock. As soon as I felt the push and realised the danger we were in, I ran as fast I could (well, as fast as one can clipped onto a rope wearing big boots, crampons in deep snow at an altitude of about 6800m). We collapsed in a heap a few minutes later once we knew we were out of danger. My reaction was slightly more panicked than Sonam’s. Sonam just looked at me as I ranted and raved about my near death experience and said, ‘Don’t worry. Be happy”.

From that point on I became much more aware of my surroundings, particularly because the snow was coming down much heavier and visibility was becoming increasingly poor. Another avalanche, slightly bigger than the one that had just passed could certainly have caused some serious, if not fatal damage or have had far more severe consequences. Reality sank in as well because we were just making our way up the re-fixed line past the icy debris which marked the remains of the cave where the Hungarian climber had died only a week before. The rope had been reset to take us steeper to the left, bypassing the cave and into the final steep and difficult section of the Col.

By this point we’d been climbing for about 4.5 hours and I was utterly exhausted and was starting to feel the cold through my gore-tex jacket. We’d started the climb feeling the blazing hot radiation off of the snow but the persistent snow, grey cloud and exhaustion combined to make some difficult conditions. For every step that I took in the snow, my boot would sink… a case of 1-step forward and two steps back. The last time I went up the North Col I made it to about 6900m before having to turn back to make the 2:30 cut of time. I’d now passed 6900m and knew the camp must be near…. But, the terrain kept going up… up… up… and seemed to be getting steeper rather than flattening out.

I won’t go into detail about the final 20 minutes of the ascent except to say that when I finally saw the camp I nearly cried. The tents were COMPLETELY buried in the snow. I’d never seen anything like it. Only here and there the bright yellow tops pushed through. I was so tired I could hardly walk and my legs felt like they were made of lead. I managed to muster about two steps at a time. I stopped in front of the tent I was sharing with Matt and greeted him as well as Pete and Matt with the most cheerful ‘hello’ I could muster before collapsing into a heap at the foot of the tent where I began to shake uncontrollably and hyperventilate. Crampons, boots and snow-covered clothing were quickly removed and I was immediately put in my sleeping bag to recover. It was a really scary situation because I could feel my body going into some sort of shock - I was gasping for air, trying to control my breathing and trying desperately to feed my cells with oxygen. I did manage to recover after about 45 minutes but didn’t leave the comfort of my sleeping bag that evening. I fell asleep with very little effort as I listened to the snow which continued to fall on our tent throughout the long, cold night.

This is the letter I composed while climbing up the North Col today:

Dear Everest NE Ridge Tourism Authority,

Please take this letter as my proposal for some significant developments for the commercialisation of the NE Ridge of Everest. I hereby whole-heartedly support the building of a high-speed escalator from Basecamp to ABC. I hereby also support the building of a T-bar lift (or tow-rope?) from ABC to the headwall of the North Col (with snack bar selling sausages and waffles at Crampon Corner as well as crampon fitting service and massage bar). Please also consider this recommendation to build a heated gondola from the headwall up to the top of the North Col where an Everest themed bar with some Um-pah music would not go amiss. A zip-line can be installed for those with a stronger constitution. I would be happy to suggest some experienced Canadian commercial operators who would be delighted to help you with this project. Please do not hesitate to contact me with any questions or concerns. Thank you in advance for your consideration.

Kind regards,