A week ago, we emerged from the icefall and returned to base camp after aborting our summit attempt high on the mountain due to heavy snowfall. It was the right decision but continues to weigh heavily on our minds. Three days after our return, the skies cleared and we were able to helicopter back to Kathmandu. Since then, we have been cooped up in our hotel in Kathmandu, with the city in full Covid lockdown, trying to figure out how to get home. All the regularly scheduled flights remain shut down by the government. It has been an interesting, at times emotional, week.
REFLECTING IN BASE CAMP
After we got back to base camp, Cyclone Yaas continued to pound the upper mountain, and base camp was feeling the effects. The snow just wouldn’t stop. After arriving cold and wet from our final descent, we were craving some of those sunny mornings sipping coffee outside the dining tent or lying in our tents in our long underwear relaxing, but we didn’t get any. Here is a photo of my tent and how it looked every morning as I crawled out to shake off the fresh snow.
So we had plenty of time for reflection and team conversations. It was a strange mix of having just been through an intense experience on the mountain, having fallen short of our ultimate goal, being unable to connect with our families due to the internet being knocked out, and not knowing when we were going to be able to get out of base camp. Josh jokingly suggested : “maybe we all actually died up there and we are now in purgatory “. It kind of felt that way.
Everyone needed to process what we had just been through, especially having not summited. Exceptionally goal oriented people have a hard time dealing with not achieving major goals. It was interesting to observe how different team members handled it. I kept reminding people, (including myself), that turning around at the right time, for the right reasons, is a major part of successful mountaineering. But I think there is something about Everest in particular that promotes a “binary” perspective on success: you either summited or didn’t. Probably it’s because people have prepared for years, invested heavily on multiple fronts to be there, and then spent many weeks on the actual expedition. And the expeditions are heavily focused on maximizing their success rate: getting as many people to the summit as possible.
Our team collectively has a pretty good perspective on things. We were committed from the start to a “go late” strategy and stayed committed to it. No strategy has a 100% success rate, and a go late strategy certainly doesn’t when two cyclones in three weeks obliterate the back half of an Everest climbing season. Despite that, if the Yaas-related snowstorm had followed the forecast, or arrived 18 hours later than it did, we would have summited with the mountain to ourselves. Conversely, if – after we called off our summit attempt- we had tried to stay at the South Col until Yaas blew through, we may never have returned. We made the right decisions.
I described in an earlier post how Everest typically offers up around 7 or 8 summit days a season, with more in good years and as few as 4 or 5 in bad years. We were hoping for a good year, and ended up with a really bad year. Depending on how you count, this year there were practically speaking three summit days. The two on May 11 and 12, when the Bahrain team and a bunch of other people summited, weren’t possibilities for us given the timing of our go late strategy. The third on May 24, when most of the rest of the people summited, was with 20-20 hindsight the one we missed. But at the time we were purposely waiting, in order to avoid crowds, and were not aware that a second cyclone was about to blow in. We played the probabilities as we intended to, and would do so again. As can happen, the probabilities just didn’t end up matching what actually occurred.
In reality, there ended up being a couple more summit days after Yaas cleared out, for those willing to take the risk. When the snow finally stopped on May 29, the winds over the summit dropped and the skies cleared. The problem was that the days of heavy snowfall had created dangerous conditions on the upper mountain, with particularly high avalanche risk. As an example, a large avalanche completely destroyed our cook tent at Camp 2, which hadn’t been taken down yet. If we had been up there at that time, lying in our personal tents less than 20 yards from the cook tent, we would have been less than 20 yards from never coming home. Other avalanches rolled down the Lhotse face, taking out tents at Camp 3.
Of the few expeditions still on the mountain, about half called off their efforts, unwilling to risk the safety of their members and Sherpas by climbing in those conditions. Some helicoptered down from Camp 2 rather than climbing, feeling that the risk of descending through the icefall was too high. The remaining teams pressed on, and some were rewarded with successful summits on May 31 and June 1.
Our departure from base camp happened really quickly. It was surreal. On May 29 we were sitting in the dining tent eating breakfast and sensed the cloudy skies starting to brighten. Suddenly Lakpa Rita walked in and said: “helicopters here in 30 minutes!” We ran to our tents and jammed remaining items into our duffel bags, like the sleeping bags we had just rolled out of.
This is how base camp suddenly looked, (that is again my tent in the foreground):
Before we knew it, we were climbing into a helicopter….
….which ferried all of us and our duffel bags a short distance down the valley to the village of Periche. It took three round trips to get us all there.
In literally minutes, we had gone from winter to early spring.
While waiting for the chopper to return with more of our group, Tony bought some beers from the small tea house nearby. Here is Jangbu cracking into one.
Then the choppers ferried us further down the valley to Lukla, the village from where we began our trek to base camp in the beginning of April. In more minutes, we had moved from early spring to early summer.
After waiting in Lukla for several hours, we had a final, longer chopper ride back to Kathmandu. The city was in full Covid lockdown, with the normally chaotic streets totally empty and everyone indoors. It was eerie, but made for a quick ride from the airport to the hotel.
HANGING IN KATHMANDU
For the past five days, we have been holed up in the Yak and Yeti hotel trying to figure out how to get home. With all the regular flights grounded, the only practical option has been to get on a US Embassy- sponsored “repatriation” charter flight, but the Nepal government has to approve each of these flights on an individual basis and the process surrounding this has been murky. A total of around 40 climbers are the only guests at the hotel, all in the same situation. The vibe has been an adult version of “youth hostel” and “senior week before college graduation “, with a bunch of people who share a common experience all in a state of transition.
As at base camp, I have been struck by how everyone is processing their recent experience on the mountain. A number of the climbers here in the hotel summited. Those of us who didn’t are happy for them, and also quietly envious. Some people who didn’t summit are clearly haunted by it. A couple of days ago, Ben and I were sitting at breakfast when a climber from another team asked if he could join us. His group all went for the summit on May 24 and he was the only one who didn’t get to the top. He described all of this in detail, kept using the word “failure”, and kept talking about how he was driven to understand the source of his failure. I explained that I didn’t see it that way, but it clearly didn’t register. The next morning, he asked if he could join us again. Said he found talking about it with us really helpful. We said sure and let him talk some more.
I am not wrestling with feelings of failure. As mentioned previously, I am proud of how close we got to the summit, how we made the right decisions in challenging circumstances, and how we got ourselves down safely. I continue to feel that I got 90 percent of what I dreamed of from climbing Everest. But the remaining 10 percent does leave an emotional hole. You spend years of training and weeks of climbing to put yourself within a seven hour climb of the top of the world, and we were there. Before the clouds rolled in and it started snowing, I could see the route right in front of me, including the path in the snow created by prior climbers. I was feeling stronger and handling the altitude better than I ever could have hoped. I was headed to the top. Just like traversing the yellow band and Geneva Spur, I was picturing reaching the balcony, climbing the ridge to the south summit, and climbing over the Hilary step. I had rehearsed in my mind unfurling the Moor and Mountain flag and the photo of Jill, John, Holly, and Will on the summit.
I am already getting asked if I will go back and try again. Most of my fellow team members are sure that they will. Many people who eventually summit Everest do so on their second or third attempts. While it is way too early to say definitively, my initial instinct is no. Climbing Everest demands so much, on so many fronts, and impacts family members significantly. Standing on the summit, while a powerful dream, is not a core driver of my self identity. 90% feels pretty good, and I am very grateful to have been granted it. But never say never. If next spring you start seeing images of Himalayan peaks in my social media feed, you will know what is going on.
FINAL REFLECTIONS
Seventeen months ago I set out on my gap year, which Covid then helped turn into a gap year and a half. I wanted to get back in shape and enter some ski marathons, which I got to do. I wanted to climb some big mountains, which I also got to do. I wanted to do some long distance sailing, which I didn’t really get to do but can always do in the future. In particular, I wanted to climb Mount Everest, which I also got to do, despite waiting a year longer than initially planned and dealing with some complicated Covid dynamics. The past few days, while walking around the hotel gardens or sitting in my room looking out the window at the hills surrounding Kathmandu, I have been struck by how meaningful an experience it all has been. I have learned a ton, mostly about myself but also about others. I have lived through an experience that has impacted me significantly, making a mark that will never fade, generating memories that I will treasure forever. What more could I ask for?
I have said it multiple times, but I have to say it once more. The sleeper gift of my gap year has been this blog. Not so much the writing of it, although that has been meaningful, but the overwhelming feeling of support and interest I have felt from all of you. This includes family members, old friends, new friends, friends of friends, and people I only recently connected with. It has meant the world, and I am profoundly grateful for it. Namaste!
More on the good news front: our team cleared onto an Embassy- sponsored charter that leaves Kathmandu at 10:00pm tonight. We are headed home.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, for being a part of my journey.
What a joy it has been for us all to be able to “join you” via the blog on this incredible journey. Thank you for making us a part of your successful adventure!
Thank you, Tom, for your gift to us – to allow us to “play along at home”. I’m sure I speak for many (most?), when I share that we all are trying to inject ourselves in your incredibly tough decision-making process re: the summit push. I say with hopeful confidence that while you’ve named this post “Closure”, you’ll have evolving thoughts over the next many months and perhaps you’ll continue to share if/when you are comfortable. I guess with what you’ve shared to date, I’m not sure what would make you uncomfortable?!? LOL. Welcome home and congratulations!!! //Tim
It’s been a gift to follow your journey, Tom. Thank you for blogging and bringing us all along. Personally, I can say that having a front row seat has been a deeply moving and inspiring experience during what has been a tough past year.
I am in the category of childhood connections. You were the older brother who I didn’t really know, but nonetheless have felt connected to because of our shared experience of growing – up in Andover, our parents’ friendships, and in more recent years, a shared love of Alaska and the outdoors. My love of hiking and wilderness areas was nurtured in your father’s store and I’ll always be grateful that my own father regularly brought me to Moor and Mountain.
Following your journey has been a weaving of the past and present for which I’m grateful.
All good wishes, Tom for the final leg home to your family!
Tom,
Thank you for taking us with you on this most incredible experience. It was quite a ride. Congratulations!
See you very soon!
PGLF
Your extraordinary account has provided a riveting story for the ages. Not making that final push was perhaps a greater accomplishment and a reminder it’s about the journey. Your blog has been a gift during a challenging year for all.
Tom, your blog posts are an immediate read when they arrive to the In Box.
I always appreciate the care you take to detail the scenes, your emotions and your thoughts on the others in the expedition. Im sure hope you’ll all stay in touch and continue to reflect on this impressive experience just shared.
Could there be a Town Hall in the coming months where your loyal fans get to pepper you with questions. And accolades! Safe travels back to lovely spring weather in Dover. Sending virtual high five!
While I can appreciate why it might not be at times, success should be the only thought rolling around in your head. Your gap year was masterfully planned, adapted fully to an unusual 18 months of human existence and executed brilliantly. In my line of work I spend lots of time counseling highly accomplished/driven business leaders in this transition. No one has done it as brilliantly as you!!!
On to chapter next…..see you when you get home. Or better yet in the Great Salt Pond this summer.
Francais: the end of this journey for you coincides with the end of lock-down for many more of us and the beginning of a new summer day. As we go forward (as a world), may we all exert the kind of energy; exercise our good judgement and make the kind of wise decisions along the way as you and your team have done over the last month.
Db
Tom, I have loved reading your blogs like a great book when you look forward to the next chapter. What an awesome experience you have had and a gift to have had the time, inclination and good health to do it. I hope to hear more at some point in person. Safe travels home.
Tom, thanks so much for the window into your soul during this amazing adventure. I’m inspired, and also super impressed. The physical and mental challenges were tangible. The whole gap year strategy, which was always your personal creation, was an enormous success!! I look forward to our next little hike. Safe travels!
Welcome home, Tom! (Or welcome to some connecting point on your way home😊). It’s been an awesome experience traveling vicariously with you and your skill in capturing and retelling your amazing adventure has given me a new appreciation for the potential power of a blog in the right thumbs. Top thought: you all made it down safely. Second, you braved the top of the world and experienced things few people ever do or will. Third, kudos for all your training (I am picturing a skinny guy running down Smith Neck Road), which clearly paid off. You make me feel like a sloth even though I have five toes. And last, thank you for letting us all share so vividly in what you accomplished. Look forward to seeing you this summer!
thank you Tom,
I look forward to crossing your path again on your father’s new ramp.
Love these words, “Headed home.” Literally and metaphorically. Grateful for your safety and the richness of your experiences and reflections. Hope to see you soon.
Tom,
Thank you for sharing your adventure. Reading your posts has been an absolute delight, tinged with envy and awe. South Dartmouth awaits!
Geoff
Tom, as a 12 year old kid, now 71 years ago, I discovered the story of Mallory and Irvine, and I have been fascinated by Everest ever since. I think yours is the finest first-person account of climbing Everest that I have ever read. I consider your adventure a triumph without tragedy. Thanks for the writing!
The awesome wonder of you on the mountain that juts into the jet stream, the details and decisions that you made, reading about Lapka Rita and then researching more about the Sherpas, allowing me into your dreams and work whilst I was terrified of going out, reflecting on your gap year when I hesitate to reflect on my COVID year plus, the courage of you and your family at home, thank you, thank you ! And please more, more about the traveling home, what home means to you, is your gap year over? What’s next?
Congratulations on your expedition! We are thrilled to hear you are coming home safely and have looked forward to all of your blog updates along the way. What an amazing journey you had – suspenseful but also spectacular to see it unfold. Everyone is extremely proud of you. A thought: Of course we were hoping that you would be able to complete your climb as you had imagined. Especially after all the hard work, planning, sacrifice, and determination. However, purely from an onlookers perspective, your summit bid experience ended up being more relevant to the human experience than the idealized version. People often come up short of goals despite enormous effort. Things out of our control derail even the best plans and decision making. Sometimes the ending isn’t at all what we expected, or perhaps even what we wanted. All of us grapple with how to come to terms with these things – it is perhaps the greatest challenge we face. Reading your perspective on how you found joy in your journey despite all this was refreshing. Hearing how you framed the unexpected challenges of Everest was also very valuable, especially during these COVID times. We are hoping for you to write a book. All our love <3
What a lovely, thoughtful perspective. And so true! Thanks for sharing this Olivia!
xxoo
These blogs have been so captivating, and a great learning experience for readers. The support you’ve received is kind of directly proportional to the effort and skill you put into it. Ellen and I were discussing the question of whether you’d go again. She said absolutely yes, I said no–I read the journey as a successful accomplishment, a “hero’s journey” later in life. We can’t wait to debrief with you. Maybe you’ll have changed your mind by then. Let us know if you do a “long sail” to Nantucket this summer. We’d love to do it there, and we could have the gang join us.
Safe flight my friend. So proud of you. So happy for you.
Tom, Thanks so much for your vivid and thoughtful blogs. As one who earned a spot on an Olympic Team, but was not selected to compete, I can understand your disappointment at being so close to fulfilling a life-long dream. However, through the years I’ve learned that there is much in life beyond our control, and the most one can hope for is to do your best when it really counts. From everything you have related about the expedition, it seems clear that you and your teammates were at your best, especially making the agonizing decision to descend when you did. Well done.
Morty
Thank you for this incredible experience. I share your sentiments about your Gap Year: my Quarantine year served the same purpose for me. I am so happy you’ve found so much meaning in your experiences. And yes: winners don’t wrestle with feelings of failure. They accept the lesson and move on. Sometimes, they even climb the same mountains!
Glad you’re headed home safely. Feeling love, gratitude, and pride –
Rik
I am delighted that you & your team are returning home, safe & sound. Failure should not be a word to describe your efforts to summit. Anyone who has ever been in the mountains during these type of wind & snow storms know how very difficult they can be! You & team gave it your all & that is all anyone can ask. Much better to live to fight another day!
Safe travels home!👍👍👍
What a privilege it has been to share your journey from afar. Looking forward to seeing you back at sea-level soon!
Thank YOU Tom, for taking us all along for the ride. And what a ride it was, oh my goodness! We are so relieved that you are safe and on your way home, which in the end, was the ULTIMATE goal, to live to tell the tale! Good judgement and decision-making — I knew we could count on that with you, my friend. I can’t wait to hear more more more, and to see you in person. We are so very proud of you. Much love.
Get home safe Frenchy…….thank you for taking us on your incredible journey. While I know I will never get close to seeing Everest in real life, I feel like we were there with you (other than the climbing stuff). Can’t wait to know you’re home safely!!! – Alex
Couldn’t agree more with everything that has been said. It has been so exciting to follow your journey the last year and a half. Your ability to write so poignantly about it has made me feel like I was right along side you. I found myself checking the Garmin tracker each morning to see where you were on the mountain. Now I can’t wait to hear what is next after the Gap Year…
I am in the category of people you probably don’t remember but we were in the same class at PA. I would love to reconnect and make you my signature martini if your travels ever bring you to beautiful Beaufort SC!
At the end of the day you are healthy, and had a hell of an experience. Borealis and endless adventure await you. Looking forward to catching up in Mishaum. Awesome work Tom.
Thanks for the blog.
Harald
Tom, I quietly applaud your initial reaction not to go back. Even if you change your mind. It seems like it is for some an “Ahab” quest. Your team has what must be almost unrivaled distinctions for being up over 24,000 feet for days. It feels (from here) one of the greatest adventures and experiences ever. Maybe better than the summit.
BM
Dear Tom, I’m sure I’m among many who are thinking, “oh no, not the last blog!” You have kept me on the edge of my seat with your adventures, but I value even more your reflections, and urge you to continue writing if the spirit moves you.
You brought up the concept of “binary” relating to summiting or not. It is that kind of thinking, even if well intended, that has created the mess the world is in today. Win/lose. Mine/yours. A much saner perspective is the one you espouse, that it’s all part of mountaineering, or as Steve Jobs used to say, “the Journey is the Reward.”
I hope that time and distance reinforce for you your decision to abort the summit bid. It was clearly the right decision, as the subsequent avalanches made abundantly clear. The bottom line is that you brought everyone home safely, after one helluva experience.
Personally, I think the Mountain has spoken. Very sadly, the world is changing. We are beset by more frequent, more severe weather. Temperatures are increasing. Glaciers are retreating and the snow pack is increasingly unstable. Your epic quest occurred at a prefect time really, to remind us that no matter how mere mortals excel in mind, body and spirit, ultimately we are at the behest of forces far greater than ourselves. Your experiences have further inspired my passion to seek climate solutions.
Godspeed, Cousin, on your trip back to the US (good that you were able to get out!) Hope to see you soon, and raise a glass to adventures, and to homecoming.
Thank you so much for letting us share in your journey Tom! We laughed, we cried, we were terrified, and we celebrated with you every step of the way. Your insights and reflections were incredibly personal and moving. I’m sure there is lingering disappointment at not reaching the top given all your training and sacrifice, but what a life-changing adventure! I found Olivia’s comment about your summit experience “being more relevant to the human experience than the idealized version” especially true. Live to fight another day! Congratulations, and welcome home!
Martin & Sally
You sure do exude good Karma French!
Thanks again for sharing this amazing experience. I remain in awe!
I think a partnering with Ben as a mountaineering guide could be in the cards! I bet you already have some sign-ups here! Maybe some of the smaller mountains to start! 😉
Wishing you all good adventures and good fortune post gap year! And love the ideas mentioned to share your gap year and wisdom in a Ted Talk or Town Hall.
Glad you and your team are safe and heading home to your families!
Keep us posted on what’s next!
Namaste! 🙏💪✌️
Congratulations my friend.
Your journey has been both nerve-racking and a joy.
My view – your ability to make the right decisions- under extreme duress – is something to be extremely proud of; in fact, I would argue that you climbed to an elevation much higher than most that, under clear and calm skies, reached the summit.
Summit Shmummit. Plant your flag wherever you want. You earned it.
Now if you want a real adventure- join us on this summer’s Section I Baseball Trip. Although you may not want to tempt fate twice in one year, we would love to see you.
Congratulations and safe travels.
Congratulations on a safe return and the adventure of a lifetime. It’s been great following along!
Adding to the chorus of thanks to YOU for sharing your extraordinary journey with all of us! I am so thankful that you are safe and on your way back home! I have been overcome with emotion every time I read your blog — a testament to your brilliant writing and, more, to your incredible fortitude and humanity. You have inspired all of us to work hard, dream big, and enjoy the journey. So impressed with your incredible accomplishments and, even more, your outlook on how much you have learned about yourself and about others. That truly is the realization of the dream. And you get to come back to your family and friends, and work on the next ‘gap year’ with the experiences of Everest within you. I can’t wait to catch up this summer and hear even more stories. Safe travels! Lisa
So happy you are safe and on your way home, Tom! Looking forward to seeing you on the trails in Dover soon even though I am sure you will be heading off to a spectacular summer in South Dartmouth before too long. Wait until you see how the world has and is transforming at a thundering pace right here at home as we transition out of our year and a half living with COVID at the forefront of our lives.
Following your blog, including all your thoughtful, inspiring, incredibly well written posts and the equally amazing comments of your ever growing circle of family, friends and followers has been a highlight of my days too. Working with you as our fearless DLCT leader for several years, I have been so impressed by your dedication, passion and warm, friendly communication style – but I had no idea about your writing prowess until you birthed this blog. I echo Olivia’s comments about how your 90%/10% Everest tale is much truer and more relevant to our human experience than the more idealized 100% summit push on a beautiful day with no crowds. I am sure you will be sharing this inspiring tale for years to come and I look forward to hearing about your next third half adventures. I just hope you can take some prolonged quality time to relax, rest and restore – and to connect in person and unmasked with so many family and friends – before heading off on your next chapter, whatever that may be. I’ll be following along!
Tom,
Glad to hear you are safe and headed home. It has been an inspiration to follow along every step of the way. There are wonderful life lessons and perspectives on what matters most in this blog!
Looking forward to raising a glass on the Point soon. Safe travels!
Namaste to you, Tom, and thank you for your selfless sharing of this incredible gap year. I have relived many svenska memories in the retelling of our 77-78 year as I updated my family on your Everest success and related who you are and our shared experiences. On so many levels, I am proud to know you, ‘old’ friend. Mostly, I have admired your response to the disappointments. In all the bends in your road, you have adapted, adjusted, set new sights, and moved forward making the most of each, never getting caught up in emotion and weakening your resolve. I’ll say it again. Sometimes the summit is not the top of the mountain. Rather, facing adversity, digging deep inside yourself, weighing the risks, and maintaining your priorities regardless of the deflating disappointment is the pinnacle of a person’s character. ‘Winning’ at all costs is not winning. Your outcome is. Falling short does not diminish the journey. In your mind, Moor and Mountain can be on Everest’s summit. You were there. You made it. Your journey is rich with adventure and weeks of living on that mountain with a team of what will surely be lifelong friends. I know that your satisfaction in your achievement will be slow to grow, but I’m confident in you that it will. Come to Colorado – we have a little mountain or two you can devour. You and Jill are always invited.
Seems like Jangbu really deserved that beer! We have all been the beneficiaries of your blog Tom; thanks so much for sharing all this with us. If you do decide to give it another go, please allow us to join you again. I’ve always been impressed by climbers who are willing to abort summit attempts, and I’m glad that you all made it back down through the blizzard; that could have gone bad so quickly. Congrats to your team, Ben, and your sherpas for all returning to your families; I’m sure they are all so relieved to have you back.
What more can be said beyond the most eloquent comments posted by all others. Thanks for sharing such an amazing journey, and importantly, for personalizing it a manner that I know we all found to be a very special gift.
Well done, young man. Safe travels and look forward to seeing you soon.
Tom – Our family has absolutely loved following these posts. Personally been on plenty of missions where it may not have been the intended outcome, but we got everyone home safe. As the Mission Commander, that in itself is mission success. Safe travels home!
Tom, I have read (and re-read!) all of your posts and the whole adventure has been thrilling. I cannot thank you enough for including us.
I can only echo the above replies – with particular congratulations to you, your team and the expedition organizers for keeping safety in the forefront. A remarkable journey!
I have loved reading your blogs and your writing is enhancing and the story has been riveting!!! Your 90% hike of Everest is inspiring in every way. The lessons of when and how to make tough decisions are relevant to all of us living at sea level too. You sure did Climb High and Climb Far Tom. So proud of you and your team. Xo
THawk,
So glad your home safe and sound, what a wonderful journey you have taken us on , we all greatly appreciate you including us. Your perspective on the climb and decisions made are spot on, you and your team shared in a terrific experience that you we all cherish for a lifetime. The weather window just wasn’t there for you guys and the only smart decision was made. Best CF
Thank you for these amazing blog posts and inspiring us all. I grew up hiking in the Himalayas and you have brought back many memories. Tom – You are an inspiration for all of us and we are all so proud of you. Look forward to celebrating in person soon.
Tom, what a tour de force of mind, body and spirit! Thank you for including us all, and looking forward to your blog of the next chapter … 🙂