The Turning Point 22,488

October 31, the turning point.  We have slept for four nights above 19,000 feet, but are still pushing the envelope of being acclimatized. 

We woke up at 2:00 AM  and I took an amazingly long time to get ready, especially considering that I slept in my clothes, including my down puffy pants. We could have left earlier, since Tanner was not sleeping anyway, but who wants to climb the mountain in the dark? It was dark, of course, and seemed cold, but once we started the climb, which was very steep, I shed the expedition down coat and climbed the rest of the way in a down sweater and hard shell, with my down puffy pants, because it was so much work.  On the gray tower above camp 2, which I had climbed in  approach shoes in the spring a few years ago, I got to a point where I did not know if I could catch my breath. It was painfully difficult to move or even to breath.  But finally, I got breathing under control and we climbed up and up, the very steep ice and rock through the tangle of fixed lines and crazy anchors, set up like a boy scout learning to tie knots…if you are not sure, just keep tying and tying, around old rusty pins or worse, into an invisible morass of rope and rock.  What a mess. Fortunately there was no wind, which explained why I could be shedding layers.

After a long time we made it to camp 3 at 21,123, a large and  lovely flat place covered in snow.  Many people avoid camp 3 because it is directly under the huge serac, the suspended glacier looks like a jewel box hanging on the neck of the Mountain, hence the name Ama Dablam, literally meaning 'the mother's jewel box.' A piece of it came down about 8 years ago and wiped out everyone at camp 3, so their fears are not completely unfounded. 

As the sun came over the mountain, it struck the side of the serac I had looked at for so many years, wondering what it would be like on the smooth field of ice and snow above. The last 1,000 feet of altitude gain would be an easy ice climb in the Wasatch except that for every two steps I have to stop and take four or five breaths, it is excruciatingly difficult to move up.  My calves were burning from kicking steps into the ice and snow and arms were ready to fall off. Getting to the top, the last 50 meters was the most difficult physically challenging experience I have ever had, ever.   We could still see the mountains in the distance,  including Mount Everest peaking above the clouds. although more clouds were forming around us. I know there were people who were praying for me to finally get to the top of that mountain.

We made it to the summit at about 1:00 PM, which was soft and rounded and covered in deep snow. Good place to set up a tent. But, then had to turn around and go down, which was arduous and difficult, because we were so tired. It was an endless series of difficult rappels on ropes that were stiff or frozen.  Somehow my helmet came off and rolled off the precipice.  My down pants had taken a couple of hits from crampons, so all the way down I was shedding feathers. We made it to camp 2 around 8:30 PM,  17 hours on the mountain without a pause. On the way down, around 8:00,  we passed some Korean climbers going up, having a very difficult time of it. When we arrived at camp 2, exhausted, dehydrated, and ready to just lay down, we found that there was a large Sherpa guy sleeping in our tent! With a huge pile of stuff. Tanner slept next to him, my pad was gone, so I slept by the door on top of my coat and lots of rocks. In the morning, after not really sleeping all that much, I noticed that a Romanian had replaced the Sherpa man.   He was not all that friendly, but how did he get in there without me knowing it?

We had our Sherpa guide Urken with us, who was the one who managed the alternating tent situation, like musical  tents, hoping that you will not be left without a tent.  He was not all that sympathetic to  our climbing interests, which included actually climbing the mountain.  He had the unshakable belief that by clipping a carabiner attached to sling, attached to your climbing harness, to a vertical rope, that it acted as a “safety.”  This would be a safe back up on an horizontal traverse, but on a vertical line, it would just keep your mangled body from going over the cliff.  

But, in spite of it all, I made it to  the turning point. The summit of Ama Dablam, a mountain that had inhabited my dreams for years, in a multitude of magical forms and endless journeys. It was the fourth attempt, and the turning point meaning I was heading back home.

Sunrise at 21,000 feet.  Note the huge hanging glacier serac that gives Ama Dablam its name.

 Coming up to the serac as the sun catches it, an immense piece of snow and ice.

 That is the summit of Ama Dablam, after the long climb up the snow and ice west facing face of the mountain.

The summit, with the tip of the last snow picket, poking up out of the snow. 

The view down and the view to the east toward Mount Everest, and the view of camp 3 as we descended.