When I last posted, I was getting ready to trek to Cholatse base camp to meet Holly and our climbing team. I just needed to find the camp. Expedition Leader Phil Crampton had been a bit cryptic about its location, but assured me I would locate it. His basic directions: “look for the yak huts and head up the valley toward the mountain”.
I pulled out of Gokyo first thing in the morning, crossed the glacial moraine, and headed toward Cholatse. As I had feared, there were lots of yak huts and lots of valleys. Mid-day found me gazing up several valleys trying to figure out which one to head up. Just when I needed it, I encountered a villager restoring a wall in his yak compound. Better yet, he was wearing a hat with the logo of a climbing company, which suggested he might have some knowledge of local climbing camps. “Cholatse base camp?” I asked, gesturing upward. He motioned toward the middle of three valleys. I headed up.
A couple of hours later, I crested a rise, came upon a lone yak hut, and gazed down into a broad, grassy basin with a small group of yellow and blue tents clustered on the far side. I had found it! Here is the view from the yak hut. If you zoom in, you can see tents of base camp across the basin.
I walked the remaining distance and settled into camp. It is a beautiful spot at the edge of the valley, with Cholatse looming above. In marked contrast to Everest, there is only one other team here; a group of seven Belgian climbers, plus several individual climbers sharing their camp infrastructure. Here is a photo of our tents, with the mountain behind.
It was great to see Holly again. Here is a photo of us on a typically frosty morning, as the sun starts to warm things up.
And here is our climbing team.
From left to right:
Martin: a Belgian neurosurgeon currently living in Australia, who has climbed all over the world; most recently on Ama Dablam, a neighbor of Cholatse.
Holly
Dan: an American oceanographic weather tech entrepreneur who climbed multiple peaks in Peru last year with Phil.
Lenny; an Australian management consultant who was in Peru last year with Phil and Dan. As a prelude to that, he solo’d Aconcagua in Argentina.
Yours Truly
Phil: My Expedition Leader on Everest in 2022, who specializes in putting together small teams of experienced, like minded climbers. He pioneered the climbing of Cholatse by “commercial” teams and has led six prior expeditions on this mountain. As previously described, he has an irreverent, idiosyncratic attitude that causes people to either like him or hate him, and I fall into the former category.
As I write this, we have been together in base camp for five days. I like our team, which is experienced and shares a common attitude toward climbing. I also really like our Sherpa team, which is the same one I was on Everest with. We have settled into a familiar base camp rhythm: shivering in the dining tent in the morning waiting for the sun to crest the surrounding peaks, pursuing a mix of acclimatization climbs and rest days, eating dinners in the dining tent, then crawling into our tents and zipping into our sleeping bags to stay warm through the cold nights. Before going to bed, I follow the same ritual I did in Everest: brushing my teeth outside my tent and looking up at the dazzling display of stars, including the Milky Way as bright as I have ever seen it.
Yesterday, we did a major, round-trip acclimatization rotation up to Camp One at 18,700 feet. The first half was on challenging, rocky scree interspersed with ribs of snow and ice. The second half was on the glacier, climbing ever more steeply to the base of a steep headwall, then up the headwall itself to a saddle between Cholatse and its neighbor peak Taboche. Here is a photo of Holly and Sherpa Sonam approaching the bottom of the headwall.
And here is one as they reached the top of the headwall.
I was really proud of how Holly climbed. She was strong and fast, at the front of our group, and handled the steep sections with confidence. When we rappelled 1,000 feet back down the headwall into swirling clouds, Holly leaned out, calmly lowered herself over the edge, and descended smoothly. All of the mountaineering experience she has had over the past year shone through.
At the bottom of the headwall, we regrouped and continued descending through a mix of ice, snow, and boulders to the bottom of the glacier. Just above the point where we would take off our crampons, in an easy thing to do, Holly caught a crampon on a rock, fell, and slid ten feet into a large boulder. Her left knee made first impact and she cried out in pain. I descended toward her and encouraged her to wait before trying to get up. Meanwhile, I thought to myself: “please may this be the kind of thing that lets her keep going, as opposed to the kind of thing that ends her climb.” It could have been either, and – fortunately – it was the former. After a few minutes, she got up and we all continued our descent to base camp.
This morning, after the sun warmed things up, Holly and I walked onto the grassy plain in front of our tents. Her knee was hurting, and she limped slightly, but it looked like she would be back climbing in a couple of days. Then we had a really good conversation . “Dad”, she said, “when I hit that rock and felt the pain, I realized that I was almost hoping it was bad enough to call off my climb. It’s not that I don’t think I can do it, or that I am scared, but I just don’t know that the satisfaction I would feel in summiting would be worth the suffering involved in getting there and back. Cholatse is just not my kind of mountain.”
We talked some more. It was a moment I will long remember: standing there in that grassy basin in the sun, surrounded by peaks towering into intensely blue sky, listening to my daughter weigh important trade-offs. By the end, her decision was clear, and I am as proud of her for making it as I was watching her climb so strongly to Camp One. She would end her climb.
This afternoon, due to a confluence of lucky factors, a rescue chopper landed and plucked her out of base camp. With a whirl of rotor blades, she was gone. As I told her just before she left, I have had a truly great experience with her on this expedition. Her climbing to the summit isn’t a necessary component. I miss her already, but she made a good decision and I am beyond proud of her.
Since Holly departed, I have been in my tent writing this and doing my own mental re-set. My focus on the climb to date, in a dominant way, has been on Holly’s and my shared experience. Now it is back to just me and the mountain. And there is plenty to think about.
The ridges above Camp One are steep, exposed, and challenging. Several of the climbers who have attempted it this season have gotten into trouble. In some ways, I feel more of a pit in my stomach thinking about this climb than I ever did on Everest. On the other hand, I am a member of a strong team with outstanding leadership and Sherpa support. My body is feeling strong, I am healthy and acclimatized, and have been climbing well. On our summit push, I will be paired with climbing Sherpa Sonam, who I climbed to the summit of Everest with, and with whom I have great trust and rapport. Also, with Holly now off the mountain, the emotional and risk management bandwidth I devote to this climb is reduced considerably, as it is focused just on me.
Our plan is to spend another couple of days acclimatizing and resting at base camp, then go for the summit as soon as we have an optimal weather forecast. At this point, I would guess that we will climb back to Camp One on November 11, rest/sleep briefly there, and climb to the summit on November 12. But this could shift forward or back a bit depending on how the weather shakes out. Of note, we plan to climb directly from Camp One to the summit. There is a Camp Two, but it is in a precarious location and Phil thinks it safer to do the summit climb in one long push from Camp One. In all likelihood, after reaching the summit, we will descend the same day all the way past Camp One to base camp.
There is no internet service nearby. Tomorrow, I plan to walk six hours round trip to Gokyo to check my email and post this. It should be a pleasant walk, especially as I now know how to find my way back to base camp.
When we get down from the mountain, we will in all likelihood chopper back to Kathmandu the following day. I will post a blog update shortly thereafter. In the meantime, I am able to be in daily, (albeit limited), contact with Jill and my family through my satellite texting device.
As was the case on Everest, the encouragement and interest from all of you has been worth its weight in gold. Thank you!
Godspeed, my friend! And kudos to Holly for knowing what was right for her in this moment. I’m sorry you won’t get to summit together, but you’ve summited thousands of life moments together, and have many of those kinds of summits ahead in life. Love to you both! ❤️
Holly’s decision was very smart! All the best to you as you move forward. Thank you for sharing your experiences. Did the earthquake impact you at all?
Good luck up there.
– Holly (from warm bed at Yak and Yeti, just had shower 😉)
Holly,
Congrats on technical climbing so very high into the sky. Chasing Tom in Nepal while technical climbing is dreadfully difficult as he has gotten so good at the whole high altitude climbing. It is really a physical and emotional strain over so many days on those big mountains. Chris has taught our family about dealing with potentially dangerous conditions (Back country skiing, mtn biking etc.), that you only go for it when you are really feeling right about something and if you ignore that on a steep rocky chute or a big drop, your odds of peril go up dramatically. So that is our family motto. In the words of Ann’s best buddy, medical director at Snowbird and former US telemark champion “Live to ski, but Live to ski another day”. You can always go back. We are just glad you are safe and made it so far.
Tell Tom to keep his helmet on.
As usual, your photography is marvelous! I’d be interested in knowing how you chose this particular mountain to climb!
Sorry to hear about Holly but it sounds like some solid father/daughter bonding . Great to hear you are feeling confident about the team. Good luck with the final push.
Not surprised to see that “the apple” didn’t fall far from the two “trees”! While no doubt a disappointment for Holly and you, it sounds like the right and mature decision, so good for her!! I’m sure your time together was still amazing and memorable.
Go get’em!!
The level of maturity in Holly’s decision is impressive. I hope that I am that mature when I (eventually) grow up. You will still have a great photo of the two of you for your desk, and all the memories of the conversation in that grassy basin.
Good luck with the rest of the climb. “The mountain doesn’t care if you summit, but we absolutely care that you make it home.”
Tom, Holly,
What a great shared experience and thanks so much for taking us along for the ride. The mountains seem so far away having spent the last year on Sanibel rebuilding after hurricane Ian and I am enjoying them vicariously through you!
Wishing you both safe home.
Beautiful photos and story. What a father daughter memory! Sending nothing but positive wishes for your summit and both of your safe returns home.
Thank you for sharing this experience, Tom (and Holly!). Stunning photos. Even more stunning prose.
Powerful! Although there are no discernible parallels, had you ever thought of your climbing with Holly as in any ways similar to Willi climbing with Devi? Stay Strong, Tom. Bob M
Namaste Tom and Holly! 🙏💙
When I see a blogpost in my inbox, all else gets put aside and reading the next chapter becomes a priority. So very proud of Holly and continued to be impressed with you both. Many more father daughter adventures ahead.
Holly’s decision had to be tough for her but reflects the sage wisdom instilled by great parenting. I appreciate the pride you have in her. Holly, don’t know you but I do admire your grit and maturity. Hope to meet you and the rest of your tribe one day. Tom, embrace all the good and enjoy this ‘fun.’ Ha det så bra och ta hand om dig. Stor, stor kram.
Just awesome. Hope a Book is round the corner!
Another beautifully crafted installment of your chronicles, Tom. I’m sorry to hear your companion won’t summit with you but I, as you, respect Holly’s decision-making. Best wishes for the climb!
Peter
With all that goes into planning and executing a serious expedition, physically and emotionally, the decision to walk away is always a very difficult one. You should be very proud of your daughter’s evident maturity at this point in her life. -ghc-
HI Tom, bummer for Holly but she made the right decision. You got this. One step up, one step down. Can’t wait to see the summit pics.
Hi Tom,
Once again, I am drawn into the world of your amazing climbing expeditions by your story telling! I’m sorry you won’t get to climb with Holly, but it seems it was the right decision for her. Still, a great experience to share with her! Best wishes for your push for the summit!
Cheers,
Martin
I was wondering what was going on in your mind as you got closer to the summit push. Not that I expected you to bare your soul in a very public blog post. It looks like a technical climb with a degree of risk that is above average, to say the least. In the past you have written of the team member’s climbing experience as well as some inner concerns going on in your mind. It’s a team thing to summit and the characters in the team make a big difference and a big part of the story.
There was no discussion of Holly’s climbing experience, and not surprisingly, no indication that this father-daughter expedition added another set of demands on your psyche, concentration and checklists. After all, Holly reads this too and the absence of info in these regards makes logical sense, but also seemed almost conspicuous in its absence. Then we get this post.
I’m so happy for both of you. Holly made a mature decision, you both had a great bonding experience. You can focus on keeping yourself safe and do what you do that makes you thrive and alive. Jill can breathe a half a sigh of relief. It’s all good.
Now be smart, be careful and be alive!
Tom, thank you so much for the rich updates and wonderful pictures. The progression of discussions with Holly, and ultimately, her decision, was quite moving and naturally pulls on the heart and mind of any parent. But at the same time, I’ve been thinking over the past two weeks about the mindset and instincts of a parent who has one eye on themselves ( as is critical in the environment you’re in) but also, in protective mode, having the other on their (adult) child….and how that challenge gets juggled in the moment.
Wishing Holly a safe and easy trip home, with the knowledge that she made the brave decision; and wishing you a continued wonderful trip. Harriet
What an update Tom! Great that you and Holly had mountain time together, and that you share the philosophy of safe climbing. Sending you all the best, and we’ll be carefully following along!
Holly…. Very sorry you were injured and could not carry on. Also sure it was the right decision disappointing as it is.
Tom….safe passage. May you and your group have a safe and memorable summit
As always, there’s so much cool/crazy stuff in your reporting of your adventure. And the pics are amazing.
I was so amused by the notion of you walking endlessly to find the camp, and facing a 3-way fork in the road. What on earth would you have done had the yoda-like villager not pointed the way?!
I’m sorry you won’t get the share the summit with Holly, but as you talked about many times before, a lot of this is about the journey, and you shared so much of that with Holly already, so congratulations to her for joining her dad for that! I love the way she “defined” her journey as well.
After I read your story, I skim the responses quickly to get to my spot to leave you a reply. During this journey, however, I happened to pause on 2 replies that I think are really beautiful: your dad’s and Holly’s. Though Holly’s was brief, I still could feel the love. And I second “good luck up there.”
Your dialogue just gets deeper as you climb higher.
As for Holly, she will continue to soar….
Namaste
You , and she, will remember that conversation and its setting for the rest of your lives.
The valley looks at once intimate and grand.
Brad B is sitting at the table next to me as I type this
Thanks for sharing Tom and best of luck with summit push!
Tom-I am glad Holly is ok and such moments with your kids are what I hope for and aspire to. Thanks for the amazing photos and reflections. Steve G.