It has been ten days since I stood on top of the world, and five days since I got home. My body is slowly recovering, I am starting to gain back the fifteen pounds I lost on the mountain, and I have had some time to reflect. In what is likely my final blog post, here is an update.
As was the case last year, the return from base camp to Kathmandu happened quickly. The morning after I got off the mountain, Phil casually announced: “Better get packed. The chopper will be here in an hour.” I scurried back to my tent and began jamming seven weeks worth of gear and dirty clothes into my two large duffle bags.
Two sherpas came to help carry my bags to where the helicopter would land. One of them, Sonam, was the sherpa who led most of the way as we climbed to the summit, breaking trail and freeing the fixed lines from the crust. He was my favorite from day one. In his early twenties, with a young wife and child back in his village, he has a gentleness to him that contrasts with his immense strength and climbing talent. Three years ago, he badly frostbit his fingers when he took his gloves off on Everest’s summit to help a client unscrew a thermos. Phil paid for his subsequent time in the hospital and referred frequently to Sonam’s “fifteen thousand dollar fingers”.
The second sherpa, Kami, is Sonam’s alter ego. Among our stable of climbing supermen, Kami towered above all. He was stronger than pretty much everyone on the mountain, climbed at unfathomable speeds, and had a flamboyant personality to match. If Dennis Rodman were to be reincarnated as a climbing sherpa, this is what you would end up with. Kami was the one sherpa who didn’t climb with us to the summit. He had been eying a speed ascent of neighboring Lhotse, which – for reasons I will spare you- had to be called off at the last minute.
As he pulled my duffles out of my tent, in a rush to get them to the helicopter pad, Kami noticed that my protection amulet, the one given to us by the lama at the puja ceremony, had fallen off of my neck while I was packing. It was lying in the rocks in front of my tent. Interrupting everything, Kami picked it up and carefully tied it back on. “Every year the lama of Pangboche comes to bless us before climbing the mountain”, he reminded me, “every year he gives us these and they keep us safe. You keep wearing this!”
We walked across the glacial moraine to where the helicopter would land. Here is a photo of the group gathered. My duffles are the blue and black ones in the front right. That is Sonam with his hand on them, and Kami immediately to the right of Sonam.
A short while later, we heard the telltale “whop whop whop” of a helicopter coming up the glacier, and moments later it landed on top of the rock pile which served as the heli pad:
I took one last look at the icefall and Everest’s west shoulder. I don’t expect to ever see them again.
The helicopter pilot, an American wearing a “Chugach Powder Guides” sweatshirt, put on his radio headset and asked Phil, who was sitting in the back seat: “Hey Phil, do you have some guy named Tom French climbing with you?” Phil answered: “he is sitting right next to you”.
Remember Bali, our sherpa guide who was injured by rockfall climbing down one of the passes on our trek? It turned out that Brad, the pilot, was flying the helicopter that rescued him. He showed me a screen shot on his phone of the message I had sent on my Garmin device from the top of the pass, requesting a rescue. I told Brad what a miracle it had felt like to see his helicopter appear in the distance, buzz overhead, and then circle the glacier below until he found Bali. It really did feel like a miracle, and I was grateful for the opportunity to tell him so and thank him.
Three hours later, I was checking back into the Yak and Yeti hotel in Kathmandu. It was surreal.
Some questions answered
A number of you asked great questions in connection with my last post. Here are some answers:
- Why had Pasang Ongchu and Kipa been delayed leaving for the summit? What was the equipment issue? In an example of the dream-like way things play out at high altitude, I still don’t know what caused the delay. If forced to guess, I would say they were probably digging around for a spare oxygen regulator. They had just blown two O rings switching out Kipa’s and my bottles, and I think they realized they needed a backup.
- On the descent, what happened to the buried section of fixed lines? Did you have to clip back out of them? Dream state again. The lines were back in place on our descent, so we didn’t have to unclip. I don’t know what happened. My guess is that one of the larger, guided groups behind us had ice axes and was able to take the time to free the lines before proceeding. Or else they had extra climbing rope and re-fixed that section.
- Why didn’t Phil climb with you on summit night? Phil has a flexible style. Sometimes he climbs with the group, and sometimes he thinks he is better positioned at one of the lower camps, relaying the latest weather forecasts and tracking progress by radio. In this case, he went with the latter.
- Did my experience of having been on the mountain last year make a material difference this year? Hugely, and way more than I anticipated. Mostly, it was just knowing what to expect each day, and knowing I had already done it once. This removed fear of the unknown and gave me a quiet inner confidence.
- Is the band-aid in the photo a touch of frostbite? It is actually covering a small cut I sustained somewhere that, because of the altitude, refused to heal. I was delighted to avoid frostbite completely. But, on the summit push, I let my guard down and got pretty badly sun and wind burned.
- Did you cross paths with the Full Circle team, (the first all black team to summit Everest)? Yes. We were right next to them at base camp, and summited the same day. While I didn’t recognize them when we passed them on the fixed ropes on summit night, I chatted with their leader in the icefall the next day.
- How did the shower in Kathmandu feel? AMAZING. I stood there for a really long time, neglected to close the shower curtain properly, and ended up flooding the entire bathroom floor.
Transitioning, and some reflections
I spent two days at the Yak and Yeti in Kathmandu before flying home. It was welcome time. The first day, I holed up in my room, wrote the blog post about summit night, and reveled in reliable internet and grilled cheese sandwiches from room service. The second day, Phil and I had a long lunch at one of his favorite local restaurants, where he is good friends with the owner. It struck me how people’s personas are different when they are off the mountain. He was the same Phil, but notably more relaxed. Also, with his long hair unencumbered by a hat or climbing helmet, more “aging hippie”-like in a cool way. He retained his irreverent sense of humor. I showed up freshly shaved and showered, sporting some sun and wind burn. “You look like shit”, he happily pronounced as he cracked open a tall beer.
Last year, I spent almost a week at the Yak and Yeti, trying to arrange a flight home amid the Covid lockdown while reflecting on our retreat from high on the mountain. In ways that I can’t capture in writing, it was moving to be back, especially having summited. I had strong emotional associations with the place. The staff remembered me. I had been through a lot over the two climbing seasons, and felt both powerfully impacted by and grateful for it. Somehow, the experience, my inner emotions, and the physical surroundings all fused. It also felt good to have a couple of days to reflect on what I had just been through before heading home.
Last year at this time, I didn’t think I would return to Everest. As I wrote then, I felt I had gotten 90 percent of the experience and that I didn’t need to go back in pursuit of the remaining 10 percent. Then I got home and changed my mind. I am really glad I did. The experience this year was deeply meaningful, starting with the Makalu-Barun trek. With respect to summiting Everest, goal achievement is inherently satisfying, and lifelong dream fulfillment even more so. Climbing to the summit in the moonlight, and having the entire upper mountain to ourselves, was a spiritual experience I will treasure all of my remaining days. The pleasant surprise was how satisfying re-tracing my other steps on Everest ended up being. Places often acquire deeper meaning through repeat experience, and that was clearly the case here.
My initial “gap year” ended up stretching out to a “gap two and half years”. I think it is has just drawn to a close. I am grateful for every bit of it. Now I get to sort out what mix of interests and commitments will see me through the remainder of my sixties. I like all of my options and feel blessed.
On the evening of May 16, I headed to the airport. Early monsoon rains were drenching Kathmandu. As I walked across the tarmac to board the plane, I let them soak me and marveled at the massive piece of modern technology that had just arrived from Doha to take me home. As I have mentioned previously, air travel, particularly internationally, continues to evoke romance for me.
During my layover in Doha, I hung out in the luxurious lounge and happily surfed the internet. Among other gems encountered was Phil’s classic summary of our climb, posted on his website:
We reached the top on May 12 and descended to camp two. The following day we arrived in base camp and the next day were back in Kathmandu. 28 days, Kathmandu to Kathmandu, with no cheesy gimmicks such as home hypoxic tents and not a single Instagram influencer on the team. Old school climbers getting shit done without all the hype. We were the first team on top on the 12th and nobody else was near us all day until we descended and met ascending climbers later in the day. We had the summit to ourselves for the second year in a row.
Remember Sonam the climbing sherpa? A couple of days ago I received an email from him. I don’t know where he sent it from, as I don’t think his village has internet. Here it is, in its entirety:
It warms my heart to hear that Sonam is back with his family and all is well. I am feeling the same way.
Beautiful, right down to your final sentence Tom! Thank you for sharing all of this with us! Can’t wait to congratulate you in person.
Teared up on this one. Finality of a great adventure, lifelong pursuit, has deep sadness in the elation of closure. The years have passed and we have lived our best lives but I am forever grateful that social media allowed us to reconnect so that I could ‘live’ this adventure through your heart, eyes, and words. You’re a special guy. And Jill is a selfless saint. I hope with all sincerity that we find a way to meet up personally in the future. Wouldn’t that be fun? I hope you’ll still post on fb – I couldn’t go cold turkey now! Love to you and your family, and thank you for taking me with you through the valleys and finally, to the top of the world. ♥️ Stor kram!
These were incredibly wonderful to read. I celebrate your journey with you!
Tremendous journey, part 2! I loved every single post both from 2021 and 2022, and congratulate you on this epic adventure. The high passes trek (Makalu-Barun) sounded outstanding. Just, wow! Very best wishes to Jill and the family – hope to see you this summer.
Congratulations Tom what a tremendous accomplishment, glad you’re home safe and sound! Thank you for taking us on a superb literary adventure.
All the best
Cap
Tom
;
I have immensely been enthralled by your story telling of your experiences on Everest(‘21 & ‘22). Awesome work and a huge congratulations to you!
Welcome home! I’m going to miss these posts! Thank you for allowing us all tk enjoy your incredible adventures. Can’t wait to see what’s next :)!
Tom on Top of the World! I am so happy for you and your family. But this “gap year” could be how to be in the world in your 60s? Infuse us with goals, and insight.
Moving epilogue Tom. Welcome home. What great experiences and memories you have candidly and eloquently shared. Thanks for the Q&A also. Proud of you and grateful you included us all in your epic journey.
Tom, Your blog posts were an instant read when they showed up in the email.
Thanks for sharing your years long preparation for the ultimate reward, Everest, a place less shrouded in mystery for us all due to your heartfelt writings. Time to enjoy lots of sailing adventures!!
Obviously enjoy the moments of what you have been through! Sooo proud of you & delighted to made it back safe & sound! Cheers!
Happy to have you back in the Boston area, Tom. I must admit to some days holding my breath while reading your log; can’t imagine what it was like for your family. Thrilled and proud of you and can’t wait to hear more, hopefully in person.
Not sure what Jill in her wildest dreams desires but it sure sounds like she has earned it!
Candace
That’s a wrap. 2.5 gap year extraordinaire. I’ll be looking forward to hearing what you choose for the rest of your 60s! Sailing around the world perhaps? Time with family for sure. Thanks for letting us share in your exceptional experience. Namaste!
Lisa
Reading your latest conjured up visions of the final scene of Lord of the Rings (my absolute favorite books/movie) when Sam returns home. Although Sam may recount his tales, no one will truly understand his journey–it is his own odyssey. Homecoming is joyous, and yet wistful. We may catch you contemplative, with a far-off look in your eye. We will know where you are…
What a journey, Tom! Deeply moved by your epilogue and so grateful to have had followed your gap 2.5.
Most importantly; the chopper pilot had on a CPG hoodie?! Dying to hear more as I imagine Lisa is.
Enjoy your summer and hope to cross paths one of these days.
Well done Tom,
Not only for the successful climb, but for you careful planning and preparation, and at least equally for your terrific account and photos of the adventure. So many of us have ambitious goals in our youth which fall by the wayside as life intervenes, but you held your vision through the years and achieved it. We’ll done.
Morty (and Kay)
Congratulations on achieving this tremendous goal, my friend! And thank you, so very much, for sharing your journey with us. It has been absolutely riveting!!! Much love, and hope to see you and Jill soon! xo
We could not be more thrilled that your return trip led to safe passage and the accomplishment of your life long dream.
You vivid and personal story telling brings it all to life.
You win the 62 y/o man stud award 👊.
Now get on the ⛵️and come visit BI
Jenny and Jerry
A most eloquent summary to an amazing multi-year adventure! Thanks for sharing something so special with us all. Welcome home and rest up.
First, +1 to Candace’s suggestion for Jill.
Second, thank you for bringing us along on your journey and reminding us of the power and magic in continuing to pursue one’s dreams – regardless of the outcome (though of course thrilled you made it to the summit and back).
Hope to see you soon in and around Boston!
Hi Tom –
What an experience – very cool. The whole thing. And well done!
A particular thank you for bringing us along through these incredible Gap Year(s). From idea, to go late, re-commit, cross-crash, long trek and summit push, our whole family was in suspense and rooting for you.
We truly appreciate you artfully composing these blogs, and even more so the efforts (and emotional gyrations) you had to go through to squeeze them out into the Internet from all these good forlorn places.
Wishing you a safe hand in making some of the big choices ahead of you – and looking forward to a happy reunion in the near future!
Cheers, Martin
Tom, many congratulations from the extended Mitchell family who have been following your adventures closely and living vicariously through the blog. We’re so happy you were able to fulfill a lifelong dream. During your slide show on Mishaum Point last summer, I said to my Dad, “I’ll bet you anything he’s going back!”. I’m so glad you did! We’re so happy you were able to accomplish this lifelong dream, and most importantly, make it home safely. All the best, Joe, Vivian, Caroline, Alex, Jane and Steve
Welcome home.
Congratulations and welcome home!
It’s been really cool following this amazing journey for the last couple of years — a vicarious adventure for me. Thank you for creating this blog so we could share in the experience.
Love the (happy) ending! Thanks for giving us all a front-row seat to your adventures. I’m sure there will be many more to come…
Thanks again for this incredible ‘journey’! Namaste Jill and Tom! 🌻
The withdrawal symptoms are setting in. No more blogs? I guess we will survive but it won’t be easy. Thank you for taking all of us along on your thrilling and inspiring Everest adventures- not once but twice!
Thanks, Tom, for taking us along with you on your journey to the top of the world during these last two years. On summit day, I brought your Garmin up on the projector and my students were amazed! The next day I told them you summited and many ‘awes’ and ‘oohs’ were heard as well as a few ‘amazing!’s and ‘cool!’s. You are an inspiration to all of us mere mortals at 121’ of elevation here in Dedham, MA! Looking forward to hearing more stories as we sail off the South Coast!
Congrats!
-Hal
Beautiful Tom.
I especially liked how you appreciated and liked your sherpas. Your story was about the people and the challenge. And I loved how you stayed connected to your family and all of us. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
This was such a poignant and fitting last entry, Tom. So glad you’re home and with family, safe and sound.
Thank you so much for taking the time to write these entries over the last several years. They have truly been such a highlight and a wonderful way to live vicariously through your incredible adventures!
What a thrill Tom! Both for you and for all us back home! We’ve loved reading your posts and following your Garmin triangle. A successful summit and a safe return home = perfect!
Tom,
What a wonderful conclusion to your journey! Your achievement is even more meaningful because of the resilience you demonstrated through adversity. How wonderful to have attained the goal you have aspired to and pursued for so many years! You have earned time to relax and enjoy being back with your family, while reminiscing the many days dedicated to achieving this goal. Thank you for letting me share in your adventure. It’s been a true joy.
Martha
Tom,
Welcome home, and glad that you made it safely up and back.
Thank you to the mountain, and to the weather gods, and to the amazing sherpas, and to Phil, and, especially, to Jill (oh, and to your parents, who gave you amazing genes!).
I look forward to hearing some more play-by-play, and to asking all those nagging little questions about life above 26,000′.
Congratulations!
Mark
Tom, enormous congratulations, with great appreciation for your spell-binding writing. I was sharing with around twenty family and friends, and we were all on the edge of our seats during both expeditions. Many of us are would be mountaineers and the vicarious thrills were intense. Well done, and thanks for sharing!
Thank you for sharing this extraordinary experience. I am going to miss these posts.
Hoping that your next adventure will be chronicled and that your extended gap year continues to challenge and inspire (though may be less of the edgy challenge part 😉).
Congratulations Tom!! Take care. Kim
So glad that you were able to accomplish your life long dream. And overjoyed that you shared it with us!! All wonderful reads – Welcome home.
Tom,
Congratulations on fulfilling a lifelong dream! A true spiritual journey to be cherished! And thank you for taking us all with you through your amazing, inspiring blog. We laughed, we cried, we held our breath in fear and wonder…Please stay in touch as you embark on the next chapter of your story!
Cheers,
Martin & Sally
Hey Tom, welcome back and congratulations! I can’t think of a creative thing to express my wonderment that hasn’t been written already. I hope to write once my retirement rolls around, and aspire to be half as good as you in crafting fast-moving, readable, intelligent prose. Your ridiculous physical achievements are matched by your ability to communicate them. All I can say is “wow!”. And, we’re a long way from Gallatin Hall.
Here’s to you, my friend!