North Col - What the brochure doesn’t tell you

I woke up with the condensation from the inside of the tent dripping on my head. Confused, I checked my watch - 6:00am - and tried to get my bearings. I was inside a tent. In spite of what felt like Chinese water torture, I was warm and relatively comfortable even though my thermarest had slid from under me during the night and now formed what looked like a bright yellow version of the Great Wall of China between my still comatose tent mate Chris and myself. 

North Col Acclimatisation Ascent

I smiled confidently at the dull thud of my crampon kicking into the well-packed snow and grunted in a rather un-ladylike way as I slid the jumar up yet another foot on the icy face of the North Col. The ultimate goal of today’s mission was to reach the top of the 500m ice face and spend 2 nights sleeping at the North Col. From there we were to make our way up to the 7500m ‘marker’ and then turn back to complete our final altitude push and preparation for the tremendous challenges ahead.

The rest of the group had already gone up the previous day but under the leadership of Chris, our guide, Nick, Jason, Stephen, Salam an I had decided to hang back at ABC an extra day to give those suffering from various tummy bug’s and coughs some additional time to recover. Unfortunately not all of the coughs and tummy bugs subsided, so on that morning, Chris, Nick and myself made up an intrepid group of three, braving the elements and, with each heavy, plodding step, further committed ourselves to the adventure ahead.

The journey up the steep, icy face of the North Col, begins with a 1 hour ‘walk’ over some rocky moraine from ABC to ‘Crampon Corner’- a ‘meeting point’ where climbers collect and deposit their crampons, harnesses and gear in big blue barrels strategically positioned at the outer perimeter of the Rombok glacier. Inevitably your crampons and harness - or anything that you urgently need - will ALWAYS be at the bottom of the barrel and will ultimately add an additional 20 minutes of ‘prolonging the inevitable‘ (otherwise known as faffing) - something that I have managed to get quite good at.

One can easily get to Crampon Corner wearing hiking boots but crampons are necessary in order to make the crossing from Crampon Corner over the cravasse packed Rombok Glacier to the headwall of the North Col. Navigating the icy glacier takes about 25 minutes, leaving you to stare up at the giant wall of ice, the obstacle for the next 4 hours, with a sense of both awe and dread. Normally, the entire ‘journey’ up to the headwall of the North Col is fairly uneventful, the biggest challenge involving jumping a few gaping blue crevasses and figuring out how to use the ‘self timer’ on a camera to get in a few token photos...

On this particular day however an additional level of complexity was provided by the blistering heat from the sun and radiation from the snow. It was absolutely sweltering and a bikini would not have gone amiss (apart from the obvious cultural ramifications!!). As I walked from Crampon Corner to the headwall I felt as if I was a ‘boil in the bag’ meal in my uber -girly pink gore-tex jacket and it felt as if the energy was being sucked out of my body by the heat with every step. Had we been planning a day at the beach or a day of tanning the conditions would have been perfect… (given my sunburn track record this option was quickly scrapped!!!). As I had already learned the hard way, the sun provided additional threats and challenges - sunburn, heatstroke, dehydration, radiation off of the ice and snow, snow-blindness and it also served to add an additional element of physical exhaustion to what was already a challenging climb.

With a ‘chilled out’ Canadian outlook, Chris and I ambled our way at a leisurely, relaxed pace up the North Col. It was a fantastic and thoroughly enjoyable ascent (I NEVER thought I’d say that!!) because (1) the ropes were incredibly quiet (we could have been anywhere!); (2) in spite of the heat the weather was fantastic; (3) because the snow was packed down it was easier to find purchase and move along the ropes and finally; (4) it was nice to take things slow and steady enjoying a long lunch (and a Baby Bell cheese!) whilst clipped to an anchor to break up the day. The gaping blue cravasses didn’t even phase me!

I was feeling strong well into the initial 3.5 hours of the journey - step, step, breathe, slide jumar up; step, step breathe, slide jumar up….. Every few metres I’d look around, smile and sigh happily and take in my surroundings - a brilliant blue sky, my fantastic team mates below, the giant wall of ice and snow with Everest looming ominously to my left. It was an awe-inspiring yet daunting sight.

That feeling of strength eventually began to dwindle. Heading into the final section of the climb I began to count down the steps and breaths to the comfort of my tent. Unfortunately we (I) had one major obstacle to contend with… a double aluminum ladder angled at 45 degrees and straddling a giant blue crevasse that would easily transport one on a rapid journey to the centre of the earth. Chris assured me that it would take me directly to Canada which was fortunate since I was craving a donut and a Tim Hortons coffee. I managed to ‘clip into’ the rickety ladder and make it across without any dramas. I did my best to ignore the fact that the only thing that was stopping me from a complimentary journey to the centre of the earth was a 3mm ice ledge, some 6mm cord and some high altitude, hypoxia induced Chinese engineering…. After crossing the ladder I nearly turned to ‘High 5’ Chris but then realised that it was neither the time nor the place…. Plus, I needed to maintain an image of mountaineering prowess in spite of the sweat, white knuckles and carabiners clipped into anything and everything in sight.

I won’t go into detail about the final 5 minutes of the ascent to 7000m except to say that when I finally saw the North Col camp I was soooo relieved. An oasis of orange in a sea of white. I was so tired that it seemed to take every ounce of will-power to put one foot in front of the other and I managed to muster about two steps at a time. Of course, in true form, as soon as I saw Zac and the rest of the team sitting relaxed and bronzed around their tents I was all smiles and all sense of exhaustion was quickly forgotten.

That night, reflecting on the experiences I’ve now had on the North Col I composed the following letter while Chris attempted to prove ‘best-tent-mate-in-the-world-status’ boiled the water for our boil-in-a-bag extravaganza…..

Dear Everest NE Ridge Tourism Authority,

Pursuant to last years correspondence, please accept this letter as my proposal for some significant developments for the commercialisation of the NE Ridge of Everest. I hereby whole-heartedly support the building of a high-speed escalator from Base Camp to ABC. I hereby also support the installation of a tow-rope from ABC to the headwall of the North Col (with snack bar selling sausages and waffles at Crampon Corner as well as crampon fitting service and massage bar). Please also consider this recommendation to build a heated gondola from the headwall up to the top of the North Col where an Everest themed bar with some lively, up-beat music would not go amiss. A zip-line can be installed for those with a stronger constitution. I would be happy to recommend some experienced Canadian commercial operators (look to the resorts in Western Canada as evidence of our engineering prowess) who would be delighted to help you with this project. Please do not hesitate to contact me with any questions or concerns. Thank you in advance for your consideration.

Kind regards,

Heather

Picture: North Col Camp

ABC

I’m about 120% positive that my least favorite part of the trip up to ABC is the section of the Moraine Superhighway after Interim camp. Interim Camp is situated at the top of a steep section of moraine which then falls away into a serac-filled jungle and a fast flowing stream and then a steep uphill climb onto a long, undulating lateral moraine which lies adjacent to Everest. These are the first three obstacles that one faces first thing in the morning after leaving camp (all that without the benefit of a Starbucks latte!!).

I’m generally a positive person, but I can’t bear the walk between IC and ABC – it drags on and on and on and on and on and on and on…. By about 11am I was so bored bumbling along the scree that I begin to video-tape my feet walking ’fast’ and then ’walking slow’ (note: there is no difference!!)… and the a few hours later decided to start writing messages in the snow with my trekking pole for Chris, Stephen and Salam (who were coming up from BC). These included – “Canada Rocks” as well as “Go Team Scotland!” and “Yaaa Bangladesh!”. I nearly killed myself falling into a snow-covered crevasse writing, “Almost There!” accompanied by a giant smiley face….

Geordie provided some entertainment at noon during the regular radio call. It’s difficult to learn to resist the temptation when utterly bored and starved of conversation to engage in an irrelevant full-fledged conversation on a radio that is to be use for check-ins only!

I was incredibly relieved when at 2:30pm one of the Sherpas from ABC came down to meet me with a drink of hot tea and some moral support. Then the final painfully frustrating hour passed when you constantly think you’re close to camp or you think, “it’s just over the next moraine” only to be disappointed time and time again by a frustratingly endless series of hills and fruitless climbs. I was incredibly relieved to see ABC and dive into the comfort of the warm and entertaining mess tent where I could unleash my frustrations about the giant toilet that is Interim Camp and attempt to rehydrate. 5 minutes later after a bowl of noodle soup, all was forgotten and I could smile and laugh once again. It was now time to prepare for the new challenges ahead! North Col ascent in 2 days!

Interim Camp – Yak Rodeo

I threw down my ‘North Face Blue Kazoo” sleeping bag and gagged. The absolutely overwhelming smell of yak dung and the fresh steam yak ‘welcome gift’ in my vestibule made me seriously question whether splitting the 21km walk up to ABC from BC on the Moraine Superhighway had been a wise move. To be honest, I’m used to at least a mint on my pillow….! Don’t get me wrong – I think yaks are great – big, beautiful, docile creatures without which the journey up to Advanced Base Camp would be significantly more difficult. I just haven’t particularly ‘warmed’ to their potpourri…

Back up to the North Col - The Graft Begins

It’s been a busy two days at Everest Base Camp and laying here in my tent eating chocolate covered raisins stolen from the luxury barrel (sorry boys!!) I contemplate the challenges ahead. Tomorrow we head back up the 21km Moraine Superhighway to ABC and will then spend 3 nights on the North Col. During one of the days we will make the grueling climb up to 7500m as part of the acclimatisation process.

For many reasons I’m trying to refrain from comparing ‘this year’ to ‘last year’ but I want to highlight the absolutely fantastic work done by our guides, Zac Poulton and Chris Szymiec. With their ‘Nothing New on Summit Day’ approach I feel prepared for the many challenges ahead. Everest is a tough and unpredictable mountain and both Zac and Chris have done what they can to enable us to control what we can and make informed decisions about the things that we can‘t.

Yesterday we had an intensive 2 hours of ‘oxygen and mask’ training where we were ‘refreshed’ on the basic principles of using oxygen systems at altitude. We were then tested on the application of this refresher by fitting cylinders to masks and discussing common and avoidable problems with the systems. Basic stuff but absolutely critical and can ultimately make or break a summit attempt -- and even go so far as to save your life. Last night we were then all hauled out of the warmth of our tents and into the cold wearing our masks and head torches to walk up the ‘Frozen River’ just outside of Camp to simulate the feeling of claustrophobia experienced during Summit Night in the walk up from 8300m.

It will be good to set out again for ABC tomorrow and complete the final stage of the acclimatisation process. When I think of all of the challenges and unknowns in the week ahead I can’t help but feel overwhelmed but know that no matter what happens it will be an adventure and an integral part of the experience of a lifetime.

Base Camp Hilton

Exhausted, weak, dehydrated (and still sunburnt!!) I stumbled down the final section of the Moraine Superhighway. A hazy yellow-gold mirage appeared before me amidst the dull grey scree and moraine. I rubbed my eyes with my snot covered Patagonia mittens. Base Camp. Could it be? Was it a mirage? The spring in my step caused me to stumble face first into the scree, narrowly avoiding a pile of rancid yak dung. It had been a long 21km walk down from ABC and my body was still recovering from yesterday’s ascent /descent of the North Col.

Hobbling with the aid of my trekking pole, I stumbled to my golden haven. My tent. My palace. My home. With my knees placed securely on my ‘Welcome Mat’, I unzipped the fly to the two-man tent (for one) and was immediately greeted by a warm, clean glow of loveliness. Thanks to the Dollarama-Shopping Extravaganza in Zheng Mu several weeks ago, my tent was a breath of fresh air. Martha Stewart eat your heart out…

To the far right of my tent is a small single mattress with my sleeping bag, the comforter and duvet cover purchased in Zheng Mu (bargain and serious style points!!!). The duvet cover is (still) white, lime green, aquamarine blue and turquoise striped. A huge rice filled lime-green ‘accent pillow’ (a mans worst nightmare) rests stylishly on the head of the ‘bed’. Next to the bed is the stool also purchased in Zheng Mu. Covered by a lilac handkerchief, it serves as my bedside table upon which rests a collection of books, cough candies, vitamin C tablets and my iPod.

Directly behind my bed is the conservatory, accessed via a zippered ‘bay window’, which offers one of the most incredible views in the world (no, neither Jason nor Ben’s tents!!) Looking out of the ‘window’ you can’t help but not sit mesmerised by Everest, standing solitary and grand with its snow white cap and plume of spindrift against the clear blue sky. It’s no wonder that the mountain is still considered sacred.

On the floor of my tent, a slick silver strip down the centre, is a roll-mat purchased in Kathmandu. I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to have the dull blue boring side up rather than the flashy metallic silver side but I figured that the tent color scheme could handle it.

To the far right of my tent (about 2 feet from my bed) is my giant red closet… better known as my ‘kit bag’, filled with all the fashion essentials needed for the Base Camp cat walk. Plus batteries, a box of Kraft Dinner, my Maximuscle energy gels, and protein bars. At first glance one would think that the kit bag / closet would clash disastrously with the lime-green accents found throughout the tent however the color scheme works remarkably well and the red adds some ‘pizazz’ to the entire ‘tent’ suite.

The ‘piece de resistance’ in the tent is the light-and-airy feel achieved through the creation on the ceiling. I’ve taken 4 prayer scarves received from various llamas and guest house owners along the journey and have hung them from the centre of the tent out to its corners, like the inside of a circus marquee. Delicate, cream-colored giant white sashes contrasting against the golden ceiling of the tent and also doubling as a useful ‘hammock’ to cameras, sunglasses and head torches, easily accessed while laying in bed.

To ensure that the oasis stays smelling fresh and clean I regularly roll my ‘Issy Miake’ industrial sized deodorant stick along the canvas walls so that the tent is filled with the fresh and clean smell of spring (rather than stinky trekking boots and clothes that haven’t been washed in over a month) as soon as the sun hits the tent in the morning. It’s nearly as good as waking up to the smell of fresh coffee…. Or fresh bread…. (but not quite).

I can’t complain about the neighbours either. Dubbed the ‘Chelsea of Base Camp’ my tent real estate will only sky rocket in value with considerate neighbours such as Jason and Ben who have since come to me for interior-design advice and to exchange recipes… (ok, perhaps that is a slight exaggeration). Either way, my golden oasis of warmth in the heart of Everest Base Camp is definitely my home away from home and I can’t imagine anywhere I’d rather be.

It almost sounds civilised. If only we could do something about this mountain climbing malarkey….

North Col Day

Armed with my ‘Big Girl Boots” trekking poles, several layers of down, and the most positive attitude that I could muster up under the freezing cold windy conditions, I began my 1 hour ‘slog’ to “Crampon Corner” and then onto the headwall of Everest North Col. It was precisely 8am and whilst I felt I was moving well I was definitely missing my Starbucks vanilla latte and read of the morning papers to help get me in ‘the zone’.

I’d spent a rather restless night worrying about the ascent. To say that I was nervous was an understatement. I’d been in this position before -- I’d already climbed the North Col - twice last year… - but still I needed to take the time to put that sense of the ‘unknown’ and ‘uncontrollable’ into perspective. A climber was tragically killed in a serac collapse last year on what was a seemingly ‘routine’ day out on Everest. His tragic death was a stark reminder never to underestimate the power of Mother Nature and the sheer risk and unpredictability involved in high altitude mountaineering (or any mountaineering for that matter!). If you’re unwilling to accept or face that element of risk or unpredictability you’re climbing the wrong mountain.

Bohlle, the Camp Manager kindly assigned a Sherpa, Norbu, to accompany me up the North Col. This made me feel significantly better knowing that I was not going to head up on my own. Norbu and I left ABC up the moraine to Crampon Corner. Crampon Corner is a ‘landmark’ on the NE Ridge route where climbers ‘gear up’ and ‘gear down’ picking up or dropping off their harnesses, crampons etc. enroute to the ‘headwall’ or the start of the North Col.

Sitting at Crampon Corner geared up and baking in the blazing sunshine (Yes I was wearing SPF 50 and not a cm of skin was showing!!!) I sucked on a frozen chocolate “Maximuscle’ energy bar and weighed my options. This was made easier by the fact that I really didn’t have many options to weigh. It was a simple case of get the hell up the Col, get the hell down and get the hell back to ABC so that this 7000m milestone could be checked off the list.

I looked up at the headwall of the Col. It’s 400m blue-ice face glistened menacingly in the sunlight as ice crystals bounced off its surface. A steady stream of people could be seen making their way up and down the wall. I clipped onto the white rope and thought, “Let’s get this done and over with’ and pushed the jumar upwards as I felt my crampons bite into the thick blue ice and snow. For the next 20 minutes, although it seemed like an eternity, I managed to find a rhythm of: three small steps, an arms length slide of the jumar up and then a three second rest.

Step right, two, three, four; Step left, two, three, four. Rest, two three, four… (Admittedly I was quite liberal on the three second breaths which regularly stretched anywhere from five to ten seconds in duration.)

Every ten metres or so there was an anchor where I would clip into a new rope and tie off the old one to continue onto a new section of the climb. Norbu stayed with me for the ascent, quietly encouraging me and also acting as support during some particularly tricky sections where the traffic flow on the up and down ropes seem to resemble a New York city traffic jam. Looking back, I don’t remember much of the 3-hour ascent apart from focusing steadily on the various ‘landmarks’ that had been flagged in conversation by the team which had gone up before me - the first crevasse, the second crevasse, the ice serac that collapsed last year… Each of these frozen landmarks passed but I didn’t even have the energy to feel a sense of achievement.

When we reached the final ladder crossing a 4-foot wide crevasse marking the top of the North Col I felt an absolute sense of relief and achievement. I looked up at Norbu who sat next to my splayed body eating his packed lunch and whistling a tune as if he had just climbed Primrose Hill / Ridgetown Hill. It felt fantastic to reach the top - 7000m mark, a point that I’d struggled to reach a year ago. With the sun beating down on our heads Norbu and I shared a ‘Bounty Bar’ to celebrate our successes before beginning our descent.

A fundamental difference between cycling and climbing is that with cycling you always have the thrill of a downhill to look forward to after a gruelling uphill. The wind in your hair, the feeling of sheer weightlessness… Unfortunately this is not the case with high-altitude climbing where going down is often more treacherous than going up. Every time I watched as the rope slid through my abseil device as I slid down the sheer ice face, carefully moving from one section to the next I could feel my lungs aching for breath and my feet longing for the stability of solid ground. When my feet finally hit solid ground and I could unclip from the fixed lines, I was incredibly relieved and managed a high-five with Norbu..

The descent took 1.5 hours and as I looked up at Everest in its 3 o’clock shadow I had a newfound respect for the mountain. Needless to say, sleep came relatively easily that night..!

Top Picture: North Col. Bottom Picture: North Col Headwall.