For those who haven't seen this months editorial in Climbing magazine (www.climbing.com), personally I think they should have named all of those who did not help, and firm slap on the back for the american and nepalese lads involved who obviously know that morality doesn't end at a certain altitude:
Epic heroes
Summit fever versus humanity at 28,000 feet
On the evening of May 23 this spring, Dave Hahn, Tap Richards, Jason Tanguay, and Sherpas Phu Dorje and Phu Nuru settled into high camp at 27,000 feet on the North Ridge of Mount Everest, poised for a summit bid early the next day. They had been on the mountain for over 60 days as part of the 2001 Mallory and Irvine Research Expedition, were well acclimated, and the forecast called for calm winds and stable weather. Spirits were high.
A call for help was the last thing they wanted to hear.
At 8:30 p.m. Chris Warner, a guide with the Himalayan Experience international expedition, reached Hahn's tent with desperate news: Two members of their team had collapsed with cerebral edema at the Third Step, 500 feet below the 29,035-foot summit. Guide Andy Lapkass and client Jaime Vinals had summited at the unusually late time of 3 p.m., despite several radio transmissions from team leader Russell Brice suggesting they turn around. The two became partially blind on starting the descent, and by dusk were unable to walk. A teammate who summited with them realized that in his exhausted state he could be of no help, and left them at the Third Step with a few partially used oxygen bottles and a space blanket. The entire Himalayan Experience high-camp team had gone for the summit that day and was exhausted; they had no reserve supplies or climbers for a rescue.
The American team left camp at 1 a.m. with a first-aid kit and extra oxygen bottles. They hoped to lend Vinals and Lapkass extra oxygen and victuals for their descent, and continue the final hour to the summit.
At 4:45, just below the Second Step around 28,000 feet, the American team encountered three Russian climbers who had summited the previous day and collapsed on the descent. Two were severely hypothermic, their down jackets unzipped and mittens torn off in delirium. The Americans administered the cerebral-edema drug Dexamethasone and shared their water and energy gel. Two Colombians walked by the scene but didn't offer help. Said Richards, "We figured if they wanted to stop and help, they would."
Richards sent Phu Nuru down without oxygen and provided the two sickest Russians a bottle of oxygen each. With the help of their strongest member, the three Russians were able start down together without additional assistance.
The Americans reached the Third Step just after 6 a.m., where they found Lapkass and Vinals barely conscious in near-zero temperatures, jackets unzipped, and Lapkass missing a mitten. Lapkass had summited Everest twice before via the Southeast Ridge; in his camera was a summit photo of him displaying a marriage proposal to his girlfriend. Vinals was completing the Seven Summits quest, and Everest marked his final tick. He had a pregnant wife at home.
The rescuers immediately gave the victims Phu Dorje's two oxygen bottles and sent the Sherpa down. They administered double doses of Dexamethasone and poured water and energy gel into Lapkass and Vinals' mouths. About this time the Colombians approached again, having been passed by the Americans above the Second Step. They offered the victims a bit of food and water, but refused to lend oxygen or manpower. Several minutes later, two Spanish climbers and a Sherpa approached. "I asked them for oxygen," said Richards, "but they shook their heads and kept walking."
After an hour and a half of intense reviving efforts, neither Lapkass nor Vinals was able to get on his feet. For the rescuers, continuing to the summit was out of the question. "We agreed that if we couldn't get them to walk, we should at least stay and comfort them for their final moments," said Richards. "That was a pretty somber time."
Finally, after more doses of Dexamethasone and coaxing, Lapkass was able to stand up and walk with assistance. Despite painfully slow progress -- five steps and then collapse -- Lapkass seemed to be improving. But Vinals was still having trouble. Said Richards, "It was clear that we would have to abandon Jaime if he couldn't stand up soon." Hahn refused to give up on Vinals, though. Carrying Vinals' oxygen, Hahn dragged him down toward the Second Step. The Spanish team, descending from the summit, passed the struggling Vinals and Hahn at the top of the Second Step, but again refused to help.
The most dangerous part of the rescue involved getting Lapkass and Vinals across the exposed ridgeline below the Second Step. "The fixed lines were crap," said Richards, "and if one person tripped we could all go."
Extra hands from Himalayan Experience and the American team arrived mid-morning, assisting Lapkass and Vinals safely to high camp by the afternoon.
As the rescuers rejoined one of the Russian climbers just above high camp, however, they found him unconscious on a ledge. Tanguay and Richards attempted to revive him, but the Russian died on the spot.
Despite this tragedy, the members of the Mallory and Irvine Research Expedition succeeded in one of the most daring high-altitude rescues ever attempted. Their deeds stand in stark contrast to those climbers who walked past the victims (many others encountered the Russians that morning) and did not help.
Perhaps I've missed something during our sport's evolution, but when did ticking a summit become more important than saving a fellow climber's life?
On the other hand, those climbers who insist on pushing for Everest's summit beyond all reasonable turn-around times have been given fair warning of their fates -- the trail of corpses lining the North Ridge provides a constant reminder. When summit-or-bust climbers ultimately become benighted and sick, whose moral obligation is it to launch a perilous rescue?
Similar dramas emerge in the articles of this special Epics II Issue. The peaks and rescue efforts differ, but the moral dilemmas are no simpler.
One thing, however, remains clear: The Everest rescuers are, in the words of Himalayan Experience's Warner, absolute heroes.
Lapkass, recovering at home in Colorado, declined to comment.
Richards, though, shuns the praise. "To stop and lend help to someone dying is not heroic. It's just an act of humanity."
-- Tyler Stableford