Reader alert: this is going to be a long one.
When I last posted, we were heading up the mountain hoping for two things: that the cyclone in the forecast would veer off course, and that the fixed lines would be in place to the summit by the time we reached Camp Four. We were scheduled to head into the icefall in the early hours of May 8, targeting an arrival at the Camp Four on May 10, and hoping to summit in the early hours of May 11.
As we gathered in the dining tent, in an eerie repeat of Robert’s decision to pull out as we launched our first rotation, Teemu announced the same thing. This was not a huge surprise, as he had been thinking out loud about it for the past several days. Throughout the first rotation, he had been moving slowly. This put him in the icefall for longer than he was comfortable with, and made him worry about how he would handle the long days high on the mountain. “I am completely at peace with my decision”, he explained. ” I just don’t feel comfortable. I got to Camp Two and don’t need to go higher for this to have been a great climb. Good luck up there!”
We had already been a small team, made smaller by Robert’s departure, and I liked it in many ways. Now the expedition had become my own private summit push, supported by one of the best expedition leaders and strongest Sherpa teams on the planet. I would miss heading up the mountain with Teemu, but I was fine on my own. I was intensely focused on what I needed to get done in the coming days, and eager to get underway.
The climbing Sherpas on Everest perform a dangerous job because it is the best path available to support their families, but there is also significant status in summiting. They all want a shot at it. Given how committed Phil is to his Sherpas, it was no surprise that he allowed those who had been planning to support Teemu to go for the summit anyway. So our summit team became me, Pasang Ongchu, Pasang Nima, Da Kipa, and Sonam. While the Sherpas were literally and figuratively carrying more of the load , we were a team with a shared goal. It was a neat feeling.
Our team left base camp at 1:00am on May 8. A juniper fire was lit on the stone alter and we each threw three handfuls of rice on it to seek blessing from the mountain gods. Here is a photo of Pasang Ongchu and me in front of the alter, ready to roll:
Speaking of safe passage, in a previous post I described the protection amulets that the Lama of Pangboche gave each of us at the puja ceremony. I still had mine around my neck, as did all the members of our team. I also had my wedding ring. (Fingers swell significantly at high altitude and rings cut off circulation. By the time you notice it, there is no way to get the ring off. Many fingers have been lost because of this.) Here is a post climb photo of my two protection totems:
We headed out, climbed back up through the icefall, stopped briefly at Camp One for a water break, then continued up the Western Cym to Camp Two. As always, it was hard work, but I felt strong and we made very good time. We arrived at Camp Two in seven hours, shortly before the sun crested Lhotse and began warming things up. I had a couple of mugs of tea and then crawled into a tent to hang out for the rest of the day.
Our plan had been to move to Camp Three the following day, but when Phil radioed up the weather forecast, it now called for high winds on May 10 when we would be moving from Camp Three to Camp Four. So we pushed everything back and spent an additional day at Camp Two. I was eager to get the job done and found it hard to hang out for an extra day, but the rest was actually a good thing.
Two important things also became clear at this point. First, the fixed ropes – as we had gambled on – were now in all the way to the summit. Second, the positive energy that many of you said you would direct toward altering the path of the cyclone worked! (My cousin Cecil was the first to call the shift in a blog comment, based on his “Windy” app.) In short order, the cyclone altered course into the Bay of Bengal and was no longer a threat to Everest. We had a double green light for the summit.
As mentioned in my previous post, I knew going in that the summit push, including both the ascent and descent, would involve some of the hardest mental and physical days of my life. I simultaneously was eager to get it all done and dreaded it. In my head, I broke it up into segments: focusing on what I needed to accomplish each day. Then I put one foot in front of the other until I got there. Then I shifted focus to the next day. I knew that a week of such days would fly by quickly, and they did.
On May 10 we climbed half way up the Lhotse Face to Camp Three at 23,500 feet. Here is a photo of the Lhotse Face and Everest summit pyramid that Chase Merriam, one of my team members from last year, took two weeks ago from high on neighboring Nuptse. It does a good job of depicting the terrain we were covering. Camp Three is among the ice bulges on the right side of the face. Then the route angles up and left, across the prominent rock slabs known as the “yellow band”, further up and left across the black rock ridge known as the “Geneva Spur”, to the South Col: the cleft between Lhotse on the right and Everest on the left. If you look closely, you can see a trail in the snow, angling across the yellow band to the Geneva Spur:
The Lhotse Face is 4,000 vertical feet of exposed, sustained climbing at angles of 45-70 degrees. To access it, you need to climb over the “bergschrund”: the large crevasse at the bottom of the face. The bergschrund is also visible in Chase’s photo above. Here is a photo of Pasang Ongchu starting up it:
As I described last year, Camp Three is cut out of the Lhotse Face, with dramatic views out over the Western Cym to Pumori, Cho Oyo, and other prominent peaks. Here is a photo taken from just outside my tent:
More than one climber has fallen to their death when being too casual moving around this camp, so there are multiple incentives to stay in your tent. Pasang Ongchu, Pasang Nima, and I did exactly that:
At 5:00am the following morning, May 11, we left Camp Three to climb the upper half of the Lhotse Face, across the yellow band and Geneva Spur, to Camp Four. From this point on, we were all breathing bottled oxygen. Last year when we climbed this section, we had the Lhotse Face pretty much to ourselves, as most people were dug in lower on the mountain due to the impending cyclone. This year, in confirmation of a good weather outlook, we had lots of company. It was the one time I experienced what you often read about in connection with Everest: long lines of climbers attached to the fixed rope, moving painfully slowly. We did manage to pass a bunch of people, but each time the effort involved at that altitude left us breathless and questioning if it had been worth it.
There were about a hundred people moving moving between Camp Three and Four this day. Not huge numbers compared to most of the word’s great mountains, but made very noticeable by the need for everyone to remain clipped into the same fixed ropes, and by the extreme slowness that people move at that altitude. We were still able to make good time to Camp Four, but it was frustrating. It also was an example of what we wanted to avoid on our final climb to the summit, where knife edge ridges can create severe bottlenecks, with potentially dire consequences if things go awry.
Camp Four, at 26,000 feet, would be the fifteenth highest mountain in the world if it were a summit, but it isn’t. It is an extremely windy col; often described as one of the most inhospitable places on earth. Remains of blown apart tents lie embedded in the snow and ice. It is at the altitude where the so-called “death zone” begins: where your body is decaying dangerously every minute you are there. Bottled oxygen helps significantly, but it is still a place to get down from as soon as you can. Here is a photo of Da Kipa and Sonam outside of our tents:
This is where, last year, we spent two nights lying in our tents waiting for the winds to drop so we could go for the summit. It is where, hours before we were to depart, a cyclone-related snowstorm started which put an end to my Everest dream. It is where we packed up our gear and began a challenging descent back down the Lhotse Face, with two members of our group dangerously slowed by a combination of snow blindness and altitude issues. It is a place that, as I flew home last year, I didn’t think I would return to. But now here I was, and things felt very different. All the pieces were falling into place. After resting for the remainder of the afternoon, we would be leaving for the summit that night.
Climbing toward my dream
Phil and Pasang Ongchu had zero desire for us to get stuck in lines as we climbed the final 3,000 vertical feet to the summit. Displaying their usual mix of pragmatism and creativity, their plan was for us depart the South Col at 7:00pm and reach the summit in the middle of the night. That way, we would have no one ahead of us slowing us down, and we should be off of the knife edge summit ridges before encountering other climbers on their way up.
This plan wasn’t hugely different from what others would be doing. Most Everest climbers these days leave for the summit an hour or two before midnight, hoping to reach the summit around sunrise. This gives them plenty of time to get back down to Camp Four in daylight, in advance of the storms that tend to materialize in the afternoon. So we would be giving ourselves a several hour head start over the hundred or so other climbers who would also be going for the summit.
I bought into the plan completely. While my boyhood dreams and recent expectations always pictured cresting the summit ridge in bright morning light, one of my biggest concerns about climbing Everest was the risk of getting stuck in a bottleneck high on the mountain. That is one way that bad things happen to people up there, and I didn’t want that happening to me.
Around 5:00pm I began getting ready: pulling my climbing harness over my bulky down suit, clipping on my acscender and other climbing devices, zipping two small water bottles filled with warm drink into the inner pockets of my suit, triple checking each item in my pack, putting fresh batteries in my headlamp, confirming the level of my oxygen bottle. I felt like an astronaut preparing for liftoff.
I also thought back to last year, when I had been here and gone through the same steps, thinking it was about to happen, only to have it all suddenly change. I had come back to Everest because I wanted to experience this one day that I had missed: the final climb to the summit. I had read and thought about it so much that I could picture most of the route in my head; all the landmark features.
We emerged from our tents at 7:00pm as planned and walked the short distance across the icy plateau to where the climbing begins. To my mild surprise, Pasang Ongchu suggested that Sonam, Pasang Nima and I start heading up, and that he and Kipa would catch up shortly. It sounded like he had a last minute equipment issue to deal with. So off we went.
High altitude summit days have a dream-like quality. You move slowly in an alien world; the lack of oxygen rendering you semi-infantile as you push onward and deal with the elements around you. Decision making is blurred, and recollections become hazy with large gaps in them. This night had all of that. At the same time, I was intensely aware of what was unfolding. Our climb to the top of the world will remain indelibly etched in my memory for as long as I walk this earth. I’ll try to describe how it all flowed.
For the first couple of hours, we climbed the so-called “triangular face”, a mix of snow couloirs and rock bands. It is relentlessly steep, but I was expecting it. I felt strong and just kept moving upward. It was snowing lightly. My only concern at this point was that Pasang Ongchu and Kipa hadn’t caught up to us. I looked down for their headlamp lights but couldn’t see them through the snow. I kept asking Sonam and Pasang Nima: “where are Pasang Ongchu and Kipa?”, and they kept answering “soon coming, soon coming”. I wasn’t sure they were soon coming. Pasang Ongchu is a superman, but over the past week or two he had been struggling relative to his normal performance. Phil and I talked about it afterwards and we think he may be dealing with some health issues. At the moment, I wasn’t majorly concerned that he was lagging, but I was concerned.
One of the main elements of my plan for Everest was having someone of Pasang Ongchu’s caliber at my side on summit night, in the event that something went wrong. Now he wasn’t by my side. Another critical element was having a fourth bottle of oxygen. Four bottles is a pretty typical number for climbers these days. Phil assured me that, at the pace I move, I would only need three. I agreed with him, but insisted on having, (and paying for), four bottles anyway. Like climbing with Pasang Ongchu, the fourth bottle was my insurance policy in case something went unexpectedly wrong: like a long wait in a queue, a storm, an injury, or a failed O ring on one of my other bottles. You read all the time about people dying on summit night because they unexpectedly run out of oxygen. I was determined to make sure this didn’t happen to me.
I was carrying the bottle I was breathing off of. Sonam and Pasang Nima were each carrying one of my additional bottles, and my fourth bottle was behind us somewhere in either Pasang Ongchu or Kipa’s pack. In other words, the four oxygen bottle element of my summit night insurance plan was also not currently in place as I had intended it. Realizing this, I asked Pasang Nima to reach behind me and turn my flow rate down from four liters a minute to three liters. A four liter flow rate is also pretty standard on Everest these days. I had climbed from Camp Three to Four on two liters per minute and done fine. I had looked forward to cranking it up to four liters on summit night, and had used this prospect as a bit of a mental motivation tool. But I refused to run at four liters if I wasn’t in sight of my fourth bottle. I had to plan as if I only had three bottles. So a three liter flow rate for me it was. We continued upward.
The upper third of the triangular face is a long snow couloir that leads to the actual southeast ridge, for which the route is named. There was a foot of fresh, windblown snow in it. Sonam broke trail, with me and Pasang Nima right behind. This made the climbing far tougher, but we were still making good progress. As we got higher, the windblown snow got crustier and the fixed lines were increasingly stuck under it. At each anchor point, Sonam had to dig around the anchor, find the line, and then wrestle it out of the crust. This was incredibly hard work and slowed us down considerably. It dawned on me: usually when people climb to Everest’s summit they are following a trail well broken in by prior climbers, but now we were the ones breaking trail. A whole different experience and challenge.
The three of us gained the southeast ridge at a prominent bulge known as “the balcony”, a spot that is roughly half way between the South Col and the summit. This is where Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay made their final camp before their history making summit in 1953. It is one of those landmarks I have long dreamed of seeing.
We followed the southeast ridge up and to the left. A short ways above the balcony, Sonam stopped and began tugging at the fixed line. I shone my headlamp ahead of him and didn’t like what I saw. The fixed line was submerged in the crust and Sonam couldn’t free it. We couldn’t see where it reemerged from the crust further up the ridge. Sonam kept tugging on the line and digging in the crust, but to no avail. I had the sudden, horrifying realization that if we couldn’t free the line, and if the line was similarly buried further up the ridge, we would have to turn around. In all my mental images of how summit night might play out, this scenario had never occurred to me.
For now, we faced a a seminal decision. If we wanted to continue, we would need to unclip from the fixed line and climb unprotected up to the point where it reemerged from the crust. Furthermore, none of us had ice axes with us. (I carried mine up and down the mountain on all three rotations last year, and on our first rotation this year, never taking it off my pack. Relying on the fixed lines, none of the Sherpas carry ice axes. After a long conversation with Phil about the pros and cons, I had decided to leave mine behind on this summit push.) Again, I thought: “my whole plan involved having Pasang Ongchu at my side in case of things like this”. But Pasang Ongchu and Kipa remained below us, out of sight.
For me, this was the “how badly do you want this?” moment. I had promised myself and my family that I would trade off reaching the summit in favor of returning home safely, and I meant it. Turning around clearly needed to be considered. At the same time, the ridge at this point wasn’t that steep. If I encountered this situation at home in the White Mountains in winter, I would clearly go for it. The difference was that, at almost 28,000 feet, I knew I was physically and mentally compromised. And a slip would result in a 6,000 foot fall.
Mountaineering is all about assessing risk/reward. The risk here felt manageable, and the reward was fulfilling a life long dream. Sonam, Pasang Nima, and I unclipped from the fixed line, held out our arms for balance, and carefully inched up the ridge, making sure with every step that our crampons were well set into the crust. A hundred yards up the ridge, we found the fixed line remerging from the crust. We clipped back in and continued upward. Happily, this was pretty much the last of the issues we had with the fixed lines.
We followed the southeast ridge upward. The snow stopped and the skies cleared, with a full moon illuminating the mountain and its surrounding peaks. We could see lightening storms flashing in the valleys far below. The feeling I had was of climbing steeply up into the sky, in a way I have never experienced on a mountain before. Everest is breathtakingly high, and its summit cone towers above the Himalayan giants that surround it. Climbing in the moonlight, just the three of us alone on the mountain, was ethereal. More powerful by far than any of my lifelong dreams. I will never, never forget how it looked and felt.
About half way between the balcony and south summit, Pasang Ongchu and Kipa finally caught up to us. I breathed a sight of relief and cranked my flow rate back up to four liters. Pasang Ongchu took the lead as we climbed the steep bands of rock and snow that rise to the south summit. It was comforting to follow him.
I could see all the familiar landmarks in the moonlight. As we approached the south summit, I could see the west ridge that Willi Unsoeld and Tom Hornbein climbed in 1963, converging on where we were headed. I knew we had about an hour to go. As I had pictured in my mind for years, we dropped down off the south summit and inched across the narrow traverse toward the Hillary Step. I steadied myself just under the prominent fin of the snow cornice on my right, knowing that on its other side there was a 7,000 drop down to Tibet, with a similar drop into Nepal on my left.
The Hillary Step has gotten easier since pieces of it broke off in the earthquake of 2015. What I didn’t expect was the need to traverse slanted rock slabs with that massive drop under me, crampons scraping to find purchase. It scared me, but you just had to commit to it and keep moving. I crested the Hillary Step, knowing that the summit was close, and kept climbing up the final summit ridge. At some point, Pasang Ongchu and Kipa had dropped back and were a bit behind us again. Sonam stopped to take a short rest. Pasang Nima and I continued upward. The wind suddenly started gusting, causing us to stagger and almost fall. Then it backed off, making it easier to keep moving.
Then we were there. I knew we were there. I could see the small summit in the moonlight, with its prayer flags blowing in the wind. Pasang Nima and I walked the final steps together and clipped into some anchors, to make sure we didn’t slide. The others arrived not long after. We were all alone up there. Just us and the mountain. The highest humans on the planet.
Usually, when I reach the summit of big mountains, I well up with emotion; due to a combination of personal feelings, physical exhaustion, and lack of sleep. Of all mountains, I expected to experience that kind of emotional release now, but I didn’t. I was glad I was there, but was intensely focused on doing the few things I needed to do and then getting back down safely. I reached for my Garmin device to send a message to my family, but found that it had frozen. I then took out the banner I had carried up, the name of the outdoor equipment store my father had as I grew up, and a photo of Jill, John, Holly,Will, and me taken on Jill’s and my 25th wedding anniversary. I asked Pasang Nima to take a photo with my camera. Here is the photo:
Then I reminded Pasang Nima that I needed to change out my oxygen bottle, which was almost empty, and we did. Then I looked around one more time to try and embed it all in my memory. Then I started down.
Our ascent had taken 7 hours, including all the breaking trail and dealing with the fixed ropes, which is pretty quick. A major factor was having the mountain to ourselves; not having to wait behind anyone. I was eager to get down the Hillary Step, across the knife edge traverse, and to the south summit before we started meeting groups of upcoming climbers. We largely succeeded, although we did meet several small clusters on the traverse and at the south summit. We were able to pass each other on the fixed lines without too much trouble. Below the south summit, we began to encounter larger lines of upcoming climbers, but passing them worked ok as well. We had one wait of around 30 minutes on the steepest part of the ridge below the south summit, but that gave me time to dig out my camera and take this photo of the sun rising behind Makalu:
We continued descending though an ethereally beautiful dawn. Once the last of the upward climbers passed us, we again had the mountain to ourselves. Here is a photo of Pasang Ongchu just above the balcony, (not far from where we made the decision to unclip from the fixed line on our ascent):
And here is one of Lhotse in the early morning light. You can see the dark rocks of the South Col, where we were headed, down in the saddle between Lhotse and Everest:
We were back at the South Col around 6:00am and collapsed into our tents. Four hours later, at Phil’s insistence, we were packing up to descend to Camp Two. The lower we got the better. There are multiple instances of people successfully summiting Everest, getting back to Camp Four, and then dying in their tents. And it disproportionately happens to older climbers. I had wondered about this phenomenon. Phil later helped me understand the reason for it.
The 4,000 vertical foot descent down the Lhotse Face destroyed my legs, but we made it to Camp Two by late afternoon. Then I really collapsed into my tent. It had been a long day and a half with no sleep: climbing from Camp Three to the South Col, resting briefly, climbing to the summit and back, resting briefly again, then descending from the South Col to Camp Two. I was thoroughly spent; not only physically, but mentally. Every step of the descent, I was conscious that the majority of deaths on Everest occur while people are descending. You are so tired, and it is so easy to mess up. Every minute of my descent, I kept repeating to myself: “don’t mess up, don’t mess up”.
I woke up the next morning knowing that I needed just one more safe passage through the icefall. Pasang Ongchu and I left Camp Two at 8:00am, stopped briefly at Camp One for a water break, then kept on moving. Here is a photo I took from the middle of the icefall, looking back up at some climbers following us down:
Around mid day, we rappelled down a final steep ice block, walked out of the icefall, and stopped to take off our crampons. Making the sign of the cross is not generally in my repertoire, but I spontaneously made the sign of the cross. Thirty minutes later, we were back in base camp. Here is a photo of me taken shortly thereafter. The smile on my face says it all:
amazing Tom!
Gripping summit experience! As it was unfolding, I kept wondering how much rest did he get at Camp Four? Sounds like it was very little! The whole effort is amazing and took advantage of all those training runs and hikes with water jugs in your pack! Well done, man. So happy for you! (And grateful to be safely ensconced in my home 🙂 Looking forward to seeing you in person!
Tom, this journey was remarkable and the blog posts written with such passion for the goal. We watched your progress on the Garmin link excited to see movement last Wednesday!
Welcome home! Hope you‘ve had a martini , or four, to celebrate!
Congratulations!!
What an incredible accomplishment. Congrats on fulfilling a life long dream!
Remarkable story in perseverance, planning and accomplishment, Tom. Congratulations and thanks for sharing it with us!
Dream realized. Wow. Amazing stuff, Tom.
Thanks for sharing this with us
What a powerful and moving account. Thank you!
Amazing, Tom! We are very happy for you and Jill, your children, and friends. Congratulations and very well done! Thanks to the gods, your training, skill, and mindfulness in every sense of the word.
Thanks for your account, taking us with you. What a dream, what a journey!
Looking forward to seeing you soon.
Love and best wishes,
Zoe & Doug
Amazing story Tom! So happy for your achievement and for your sharing the details so expertly. Congrats!
Tom-we are thrilled for you to have fulfilled this life long dream… finally. Congratulations on every level. We look forward to seeing you and Jill on the Southcoast for a celebratory drink. And ditto others’ well wishes, thank you so very much for allowing your friends to follow along with you on this incredible journey. Here here!!
Soo and Sam Barnard
So amazing Tom! I had goosebumps reading this entire post. Congratulations. So wonderful to see a lifelong dream realized and, Most importantly, so glad you’re safe!
Brilliant! You are such an inspiration Tom French! It’s been so great following along! Summit blog got me teary-eyed! Truly looking forward to the book and an autograph 😉!
Wishing you and Jill and family the best summer! Now fair winds and following seas.
Ever upwards! 🙏✌️
Tom, Congratulations on an incredible accomplishment! Your relentless determination to achieve your dream and your absolute love of the climb is inspiring!
How awesome is that !!!
Congratulations Tom – so happy for you, and very impressed. This looks really really hard…amazing achievement.
Thank you fir the wonderful posts. Clearly another career option for you in waiting!
Cheers, Martin
OMG-this was so amazing to read!!!! Many congrats!! Look forward to a recap like last year-was awesome.
Glad your down and safe Tom! 🤦♀️🥶
Could I suggest something boring like a ski tour for your next adventure!!
Tom, congratulations. I don’t have the words to adequately express the admiration and inspiration I feel. To have shared in your experience is a tremendous gift for which I am truly grateful. Thank you.
Tom,
Congratulations on an amazing feat, beautifully described. I had been following your GPS tracker as you ascended and descended, and was concerned when it stopped ascending. Your emotional and physical fortitude are commendable. Thanks for letting us experience this incredible feat with you. Best wishes and safe return to Mishaum.
Congratulations Tom!! What a truly amazing feat!! You ‘knocked the bastard off’
That smile says it all, Tom. CONGRATULATIONS!!
You did it!!! Many congratulations and thanks for taking us along on your journey.
Well done! Love the photo with your father’s outdoor retail shop and play by play about Pasang, oxygen and clipping out of the fixed lines.
Tom, a gripping retelling of a great adventure and accomplishment. (I think “writer” may be your next career step.) Massive congratulations, and we look forward to welcoming you back to our altitude!
Peter
Get started on that book. Congratulations, my friend. Nobody deserves it more.
A gripping read. Thank you for sharing So glad you made it and you have checked the box. See you soon.
Congratulations, and thank you for sharing your truly inspirational story.
THawk – What an accomplishment and fulfillment of a life long dream. You have inspired all of us these past few years with your climbing journey and wonderfully written journal. We can’t wait to see you in person back here on earth. So glad for you, Jill and your family.
Until soon. Cheers!!
Rob and Dubs
Congratulations Tom – what a great story of passion, preparation, persistence!! So happy for you, and thankful for you sharing the entire journey with us on your blog.
(Could we convince you to keep the blog going??)
We’ve been waiting for this installment with great excitement, Frenchie. I’m so unbelievably happy for you that you made it up – and equally (or more!) happy for Jill and your family (and speaking for all your friends here) and friends that you made it back safely! As Allison Levine says, making it to the summit is optional, making it down is not. Well, well done! Two questions, for whenever you have time/bandwidth: 1) Why had Pasang Ongchu and Kipa been delayed? What was the equipment issue? And 2). On the way down did you have to unclip for that section where the line was buried? Inquiring minds want to know…
With no deserved right, I am so proud of you and in awe of the trip I just took through your narrative. Feelings of real fear and relief washed over me as I read. I could actually hear your breathing at points. I read Into Thin Air, years ago, and still remember the visceral tension I experienced. Your blog invoked similar moments of dread and elation with a much happier ending and naturally, a more personal interest. I look forward to your next installment to complete the journey all the way to your arrival in Jill’s arms!
Inspiring and unfathomable. Like surviving a space journey — only harder. Congratulations on being true to yourself and your dream.
What an amazing story!! Thanks for sharing. So happy for you, a truly remarkable accomplishment!
Wow. I always tell friends that I have incredibly adventurous relatives, you and my mother (in her younger, traveling days) in particular, so I can sit comfortably at home, courageous only by association. Well done, dear cousin! Safe home, looking forward to more details over a well-deserved cocktail!
Riveting. Love the combination of pics and meticulous description of every moment. This post required extra oxygen just to read it. Thank you for taking us and your amazing journey!
Tom – what an amazing accomplishment and an inspiration to us all to pursue our dreams. Thanks for letting us be part of this journey!
Outstanding work, Tom! So happy for you and your family.
Congratulation, Tom! What an amazing accomplishment. Thanks for inspiring the rest of us to keep putting “one foot in front of the other”.
Wow! Not only a remarkable accomplishment, but a gripping written account as well, supplemented by tremendous photos. Thanks Tom, for allowing all the rest of us to participate (at least vicariously) on an unforgettable adventure.
Best wishes and welcome back, Morty
And the best image of all is a joyful, smiling Tom! Thank you for sharing your wonderful stories with such eloquent prose.
Truly amazing recap Tom – so riveting and captivatingly visual. Gorgeous and telling photos. Heart and mind were gripped reading your summit blog, all the while, knowing and relieved you fulfilled your dream! Congrats Tom! Christy and Chris
TF – Congratulations. Fantastic news that you were able to complete your dream trip to Everest and a huge bonus that you climbed to the summit with just your team. We are so happy for you. Hmm, sort of recently remembering having to unclip while being uncertain on some steep ice and I also recall having to focus on not “messing up”. Long trip since departing in late March and you are finally safe. Welcome back.
Thrilled for you Tom! What an incredible adventure and thank you for sharing it with us. Huge thanks to Jill for keeping us all informed and no doubt your family are looking forward to see you. Congratulations!
YES. YOU DID IT! So glad you did and lived to tell the tale. How was the shower???? 😉
Congratulations! I’m so glad you are down safe and sound. What an amazing experience. See you soon!
Tom, congratulations on a spectacular accomplishment! As many have said, it was amazing to be part of it via your deeply descriptive posts. We will all miss that periodic early morning email titled “New blog post” and the nervous excitement associated with opening it and reading intently to the exclusion of whatever else we had going on at that moment.
And I suppose that is a wrap on the gap “year” ;-). The good news is that the list of challenges in the world hasn’t really gotten any shorter while you were away so there is plenty to do still!
Looking forward to celebrating in-person on your return.
K&K
Just an absolutely amazing experience Tom. Thank you so much for sharing with all of us…..congratulations on your achievement and perseverance. Get home safely, and see you soon to celebrate in person!
YOU DID IT!!! Totally unbelievable. Thank goodness you were so well prepared……
Congratulations on this amazing achievement!
Congratulations – Amazing feat. Thanks again for sharing your journey!!
So glad you made it and fulfilled your dreams. Incredible achievement. The gods were favorable to you today.
Congrats Tom! What an amazing accomplishment. Thanks for taking us along on this journey from your months of training and planning to your gripping, step-by-step description of the final ascent. Thrilled for you and your fam.! Whitt and Susie
Epic. Unclipping from your fixed line–a metaphor for life…Now I can breathe easily again. Your fan club was pretty darn worried on Summit day when your Garmin stopped progressing. We worriedly texted each other, “it probably just froze.” But so thankful to get the message from Jill that you summited, and especially to get your post from Base Camp. Looking forward to raising a glass with you in person! Kudos in excelsis to you and your trusty Sherpa colleagues. XOXO
Congratulations from Ingrid and Bill, your near neighbors in Dover. To wisely turn back last year, then endure the fear, exhaustion and fatigue again this year, can be summarized in two words: “True Grit”.
Tom, I could feel your emotions with each word. The tough decisions and careful movements. You did a superb job of making your goal. Congratulations. Stupendous.
Rest up. Eat up. And dream up your next adventure. All my best to you.
Your decision to leave earlier than “normal” to avoid crowds was truly inspired, and from your narrative, crucial to your overall experience. Love the “after” photo, sun-burned, tired, bandaged and elated…congratulations! Also thinking about the descent and that section of buried (frozen) fixed rope, were you able to access it on the return? Did other groups manage to dig it out for you?
Thrilled for you and Jill!! I’ve been sharing this story with people who don’t even know you, so your legend is growing well beyond this wonderfully written account! Can’t wait to see you this summer and hear more about it. We’ll done, Tom. You did it!!
My two favorite photos were: 1) your beaming face, and 2) dawn light on Lhotse face. I imagine the latter will be a touchstone memory for you for years to come.
Congratulations to you, Jill and your family! And thanks for taking us all along with you on this epic adventure.
Tom,
Wow! What an incredible achievement! I’m so glad that in spite of the obstacles thrown in your path, you prevailed. You really had a contingency plan B,C and D! Congratulations and thank you for letting me vicariously share your quest! Safe travels home!
Martha
Congratulations Tom. You are a hero!
Remarkable accomplishment and epic tale! Congratulations, Tom!
Tom, what an epic journey across the last two years. So proud of your success along the entire journey and for the incredible summit! Can’t wait to hear more.
WOW! I was (as always) hanging on your every word. So happy for you and cannot wait to hear more. xo
Thanks to Jill for bravely supporting not once but twice a journey through the skies from which we all grew.
Enormous admiration to you for following and achieving your dream. Hard to quantify the skill and bravery as so loaded with both.
Very curious about two things. Why the expedition leader didn’t go with you (I probably missed that) and whether the knowledge you gained by going almost all the way once made a material difference.
Finally to inject a little Spike Milligan spirit as you come down to earth:
“ that’s all well and good but can you sink a five foot putt?”.
WOW! Congratulations Tom! What a dramatically and beautifully narrated description of your climb to the summit, and thankfully, back down. Thank you for sharing this highest adventure of them all with all of us. Gillian, and I know I speak for Charlie too who is up there and thrilled for you!
I’m experiencing a rarity (I’m told)…I feel speechless! Thanks for sharing in the most eloquent and poignant of prose what must have been a totally surreal experience, and one of incredible accomplishment! Jill and family are now to be officially enshrined into the “family of the year” club!!
Can’t wait to debrief in person. Hearty congrats!
It is so rare to scratch such a colossal, “life itch”. What an accomplishment that I know you’ll increasingly appreciate for the rest of your life. Congratulations.
Tom! Congradulations on your amazing climb! Also many thanks for taking us all with you as you reached the highest point on this planet and back down to the human realm. What an experience!!
I don’t know how much time you have in Kathmandu before you leave Nepal however I know the Monks at Sharminub Monastery would love to receive you and anyone from your team.
I spoke with Trinley Tulku Rinpoche just as you were leaving for the summit and he asked the Monks to offer prayers for a successful climb and safe return for your group. The Monastery itself is very lovely. It was built by Shamar Rinpoche whose lineage is also connected to the Swyambhu temple in Kathmandu. I don’t know if you and Jill were in Mishaum when
Rinpoche came for a lobster release with all the kids on the point.
Dan Fales filmed it and put it on UTube. Everyone looks much younger! In any case Tom, I could get more info if you have time for a visit.
Again! Many Many congratulation and thanks for sharing your amazing adventure. Can’t wait to hear more when we are all in Mishaum. As they say in Tibetan; Lha Gyalo! (The Gods are victorious!!)
Congratulations, Tom! You are the Mountain GOAT!! Safe travels the rest of the way home!
O. M. G. My palms were sweating reading your account. The presence of an oxygen depleted mind to go to 3 liters, leaving the fixed line at that altitude, YIKES. I’m relieved you arrived safe and sound! That is an understatement, of course. I’m also so happy you fulfilled your lifelong dream and had a very unique (as if Everest isn’t unique enough!) climb. Great story and photos. Is that last pic, with the little band-aid a touch of frostbite? Can’t wait to hear from you live. Safe travels back to sea level.
Wow! Thanks for the step-by-step, beautifully written recounting of your summit and descent experience. Wonderful photos as always.
Wow. I loved hearing about every moment. I admire your achievement, fulling knowing I will NEVER attempt it myself but appreciating the experience so much. What an amazing story of perseverance, stamina and mental toughness. How incredible. Congratulations!!!
Way to go Tom.
Borealis will be ready when you get back to Mass.
Harley
SUPERSTAR for keeping the vision. Always your wingman if you need one..
I am thrilled, Tom, for you and Jill and all of us who you have so generously brought along this beautiful and epic journey. I hope you will be able to follow up again with your thoughts post-summit and the progress of your re-entry.
I am looking forward to seeing you on the Bay.
Tom,
You are truly #fearless and an inspiration for all of us. A huge congratulations to you, Jill and your whole family. This is an incredible achievement and we are all SO PROUD!!
Cheers,
Nav
From the beginning of the gap year scheme, it has been an inspiring journey full of so so so many unexpected challenges. Your perseverance and perspective through it all is incredible—eloquently shared through these posts.
Jill and your close family are remarkable for their support of it as well.
Get home safe, get on the boat and take a pleasure cruise to Block Island this summer. 😎🍷
Wow! My intermittent paddle partner is a warrior! Who does this! You accomplished your childhood dream in amazing fashion! Tom, you did not give up when the first attempt did not work out – you stuck to it and all of us mere mortals are SO IMPRESSED! Gretchen and I do so hope that you will have another wonderful event in and around Boston so that we can hear your stories and see your photos in live coverage! It is an honor to know you, compete with you at my side and call you my friend . I pulled up your Garmin locator in my mathematics class last week and my students were in awe! Who wouldn’t be?! Looking forward to hugging you and raising a glass to your amazing accomplishments! Absolutely incredible! Safe journeys back to the States!
Best,
-HTR
Wow Tom. What an absolutely incredible accomplishment! And what a gripping account of your journey. Thank you for sharing it with us. It is inspiring. Congratulations!!
Wow! So happy for you! What a beautifully written account of your lifelong dream. Congratulations Tom! Can’t wait to see and hear more!
Congrats Tom! Our family has all loved reading the stories and admire your tenacity. And love that mention of the Whites : )
Tom,
Thank you for taking us on your quest with you. During your journey, and especially at your harrowing moments, your prose had my heart pounding and my voice exclaiming: ” This is AMAZING”. And I learned so much too, from the important mountain traditions to features like the precariousness of Camp 3. It has been a privilege to read your blog. Congratulations and all the best to you
Good morning Tom,
The Full Circle Everest Team summited on May 12.
https://abcnews.go.com/Nightline/black-team-summits-everest/story?id=84668509
https://www.fullcircleeverest.com/about
I wonder if you crossed paths with them?
Congrats again on completing this chapter of your story.
Susan
Thank you, Tom for bringing the experience of your life so much closer to me – a sea level slacker. Your adventure makes the rough at TCC seem like an insignificant pebble on a smooth road by comparison. B-teamers were all following your ascent on line until the battery freeze with text chatter and speculation and gave a textual HOO RAH when Jill got the word out that the battery froze and you were submitted and safe. Having this wonderfully written post to savor is sweet. Safe travels home.
So excited for you Tom!! Congratulations! What an inspiration!
Wow! What a tale! Equally amazing in the telling as in the magic of it all. Riveting. Huge congrats and I can’t wait to congratulate you in person and hear more of the details!
Truly a spectacular journey, and a wonderful recounting of it… made me feel like I was there (well in Spirit for sure)… congratulations to you all on such an amazing accomplishment. Glad you are safely down too!
Tom, so thrilled for your achievement, particular the style you took toward your endeavor. Your thoughtfulness and approach feels like a “classic” style of mountaineering and you’re humble to recognize the incredible work of the whole team helping you achieve this goal.
To be honest, I was very worried you didn’t make the summit this second time because I would periodically check on your Garmin status and I noted a disappointment when I saw that the Garmin seemed to show a maximum height south of the summit. Alas, I thought foiled again.
So I read with a bit of trepidation your summit journal entry and exclaimed Huzzah! when I read that your Garmin froze, which is likely the last GPS coordinate recorded, well below the summit. So I was so happy to continue reading about your successful endeavor to the summit and back.
I hope you have many more happy summit days, though perhaps on some peaks a bit lower than the summit of Everest!!!
Wonderful to read. Congratulations!!!!!
Congratulations Tom! Awesome display of mental and physical toughness , intelligent decision making and risk management. So glad that box is safely checked! Well done. LL
Congratulations on reaching this lifetime goal and putting it all on paper so eloquently for us to enjoy!
What’s next?
Epic! Cheers to you Tom for keeping the dream alive after last year’s setback and “doubling down” this year to achieve it!
Also, thanks to Jill for the update on summit day (night)! Andy and I were both texting back and forth about your Garmin dot not moving and it sounds like we rightly assumed freezing electronics were the cause.
Congratulations and thank you for including us all in your journey through these posts – incredible all around!
Congratulations Tom, Loved following you and all. Just amazing. And to persevere like you did after last years aborted summit attempt is just amazing. Way to go. I am wondering what is in store for your next adventure? Hope to see you on or around Buzzards Bay this summer.
Bix
Unsoeld, Hornbein, Hillary, French – Shoulders of Giants