I’ve always done my best to be honest with you, regarding the events that transpire on the mountain and how they affect my psyche. What you read is my personal journal, I don’t keep any side records. The problem with this approach is that my emotions are tied to these events and when I am unable to process them, I find myself at a loss for words. For the first time since I’ve been sharing with you, this is the case. Today’s events shocked me to my core and will remain with me forever, but I will do my best to share what I can at this moment.
Our move to Camp 1 began with a 3:45 AM alarm, another great breakfast, and departed camp at 5:10 AM. K2 was completely visible, without a single cloud shrouding her. The half of our team that had decided to forgo moving to ABC the day prior, was in awe of the view and stopped often to take pictures. About halfway to ABC, an avalanche broke on the south side of the mountain and we hustled along to some higher ground, despite being well out of its reach. We made quick work of the hike, arriving to ABC at 6:45 AM. We looked up and saw that the other half of our team had departed about 30 minutes prior, so the six of us quickly threw on the technical climbing gear, that we had stashed days prior. Spirits were high as the sun crested over one of the nearby peaks and we began our way up the Abruzzi Spur at 7:20 AM.
We begin our ascent to C1
The move from ABC to C1 on the Abruzzi, consists of skirting a rocky ridge on the left with the broad expanse of K2’s East Face on our right. From ABC at 17,200’ to Camp 2, almost 5,000’ above, not a single rock adorned the East Face, just a continuous snow slope 4,800’ high and probably two football fields wide.
We moved very up the ridge, gaining ground on the first half of our team. Jesse was in front, followed by Garrett, Semba, David, Geoff and finally, me. There is no rhyme or reason to our order and I don’t mind the back, even though some might feel uneasy with the hanging over what often seems to feel like oblivion. This is definitely the case with K2, as the slope ranged from 40-50 degrees and never lets up. You have to crane your neck to see the top of the route and each step forward is an equal distance up. Fortunately, this team was full of character and very strong, and the day was shaping up to be a great climb.
The final push to C1
Around 9 AM and a gain of 1,200 vertical feet, shortly after our first break, we were rounding a rock outcrop and Jesse yelled “ROCK!” from the front. On K2, the two biggest dangers to climbers are avalanche and rockfall, so in this case our training takes over. We all stopped where we were and ducked, keeping our heads down with the crown of our helmets facing up. Within seconds, I believe it was Garrett who yelled something along the lines of “Don’t worry, it’s on the face”. A brief moment of relief was followed by terror when I heard someone say, “It’s a body.”
I was directly behind Geoff and could not yet see up the slope, so I held out hope that it wasn’t a climber and thought to myself, “Please not again. Please let it be anything but a person.” Just a moment later, the object came into view on the slope, less than 100 ft to our right, and I immediately knew it was a body. It didn’t move like a body, it tumbled like a rag doll on the 45 degree slope and looked more like a jumble of clothing, but I could distinctly make out the boots as they swung around with each rotation. Garrett said, “maybe it’s a body from another year that broke free from the glacier, but we knew the truth, as we saw loose gear and clothing follow in a sort of wake.
My team stood there in shock with the occasional “Oh my God”. The minutes felt like an eternity as I struggled to cope with what we had just witnessed. Flashbacks to my experiences on Everest rocked me and I fell into a state of shock. As chatter increased on the radio between Geoff, Garrett and other teams, I pulled myself back to the moment and I began to question everything that I was doing. It shook me to my core and I felt an overwhelming feeling of fear and self doubt. Why is this happening again? Does death follow me? What am I doing here? Why do I engage in such a selfish act? Why am I climbing, is it ego over risk? These questions flooded my mind and then instantly vanished when I thought about Mom. How could I do this to her?
Geoff saw me coming unraveled and I began to cry when we made eye contact. It was an unspoken understanding of what we had been through together and he put his hand on my shoulder. I grasped the pendant that my had given me prior to the climb that I wear around my neck and recited its inscription to myself; “Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; Do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. -Joshua 1:9”.
I found comfort in this verse, that my Mom knew that I would have moments of weakness and that it might give me strength in these moments. My team was there for me and I knew that I needed to be there for them too, so that we may make it safely to Camp 1. Grief had to wait, I needed to be the best climber that I could be and I gathered myself.
The next 3 hours were somber and dialog between the team was limited, but I moved with purpose and efficiency. One of our teammates from the first group had fallen behind, struggling with the physical demands of the climb and the emotional toll of the day’s events. I saw Jesse move to their side and begin to provide encouragement. Geoff and I soon caught up and did the same. It’s what teammates do but it also allowed me to shift my mental focus and in a way, it provided a sense of control after feeling such utter helplessness just an hour prior. Together, we push upward to Camp 1.
When I finally topped out at C1, a man was approaching the line and appeared to be preparing to move down. With the weight of the days events on my mind and my objective complete, I moved sluggishly as I transitioned my carabiners from one rope to another. I apologized to him, saying, “I’m sorry for moving slowly, I’m a little shaken up and trying to be extra careful.” He responded, “Sonny, don’t be sorry, take all the time that you need. I lost my friend today because he didn’t.” He grabbed my hand and we said a prayer together.
Again, I began to move towards the center of camp, when I noticed a woman being helped down the lines by a few other climbers. David leaned over and said, “That is the woman teammate of the man who fell. There were 3 of them. It’s so sad.” I sat down on some snow and knowing that I no longer had to be strong, let it all out. I’m not sure how long I was sitting there but each teammate took a turn checking on me and consoling me. The psychological exhaustion far outweighed the physical for the day, so I was quick to help Geoff set the tent platform and crawl in.
The last thing that I did before going I to bed was to call Mom. While I felt bad for waking her up, I couldn’t stand the thought of her hearing the news and even considering that it might be her son, even for a split second. I didn’t provide any details, just that an accident had happened but our entire team was safe. In typical Patty fashion, she held it together, reiterated her faith in me and reminded me of how much she loved me. Even at 32, Mom is still my rock.
I finished this entry today, Thursday the 12th, and without a doubt, it has been the most challenging collection of words that I’ve ever attempted to put together. I still don’t know if it was too much detail to share or too little, but it’s what happened. I’m left with the worst mental image of my life and memories of the struggles of the day, but also of a reminder of the frailty of life and renewed appreciation of the relationships in it. I hope that you might find a similar meaning through my words.
RIP Serge.
A tough day.
What can I say after reading this??? I am hurting for you! I cannot imagine what you experienced!
I love you so very much!!! Be strong!!!!
You know I’m tough, Mom! Thanks for being there for me on those sat phone calls and always being my rock! Love, John
Sorry to hear this John. Stay strong! We are all
Rooting for you!!
Thanks, Kathryn! Unfortunately, it’s what happens up here. I can either let it bother me and break me down or I can learn from it, which is what I have chosen to do!
It took me a couple of attempts to finish this posting, John, but I finally succeeded this morning. I cannot even begin to imagine the range and flood of emotions, physical and mental stress and strain you have been under in the last 24 hours. What I do know is that you have worked very hard preparing for this challenge and are being supported and looked out for by your “mountaineering family” up there on K2… while down here and on the other side of the earth, the rest of your family and friends are praying, cheering and “being there for you” in every way possible. As for your Mom…. she IS your rock and head cheerleader. And I, am the back up. Love you!
I knew that it would be difficult for some to reach because it was difficult for me to write. I really struggled with what to share but then settled upon reality because that is what I promised that I would provide to everyone reading. Besides, sharing my emotions with everyone is therapuetic and if I didn’t, it would just fester inside of me. Knowing that I have my Mom, Godmother, and so many others there for me in my times of need makes all the difference in the world! Thank you for always being my other rock 😉
John! Tears are just rolling down my face here at work, while reading this post! I am so sorry that you had to face this all over again, after what all happened at Everest. As usual though, cooler thoughts prevailed and you knew what you had to do and got it done. Although I am sure you are there for the rest of the team, I feel that your team is so lucky to have you along because of your compassion and strong perseverance. Just your kind words and a prayer to that other climber made a huge impression, I am sure. Stay strong, brave and courageous as we all know you can do this. You and the team, (and now your Mom as well!) are all in my prayers every day. Enjoy the journey but please be so careful. Now, where’s the Kleenex??!!! 🙂