The Girl Who Climbed Everest

by Sue Williams

  Bock has seen Alyssa speak before, and knows she is an exceptional girl. He is happy to share some of the lessons he learnt from Bonington to help her on her quest. ‘It wasn’t my intention to scare the shit out of her, but I talked to her about how the mental aspect is more important than the physical one,’ he says. ‘Nothing on Everest goes without dramas, or according to plan, so you have to plan all the time for contingencies.

  ‘You hit the wall on Everest the first day, so mentally conditioning yourself to be able to cope is very important. As part of our training, we’d train hard, vomit, then start training again, which is very intense. But it’s about conditioning. When you have nothing left in your tank on the mountain it’ll be second nature to keep going. And the higher you go, the less you have in your tank. So you have to become increasingly focused and move into a place of amazing grace, a place that’s so far beyond any reference point you have, or ever thought yourself capable of having.’

  He was last on Aconcagua eight years ago, so has decided to take part in the same expedition Alyssa is on. It’s being led by the South African who will also lead the expedition Alyssa has booked to Everest.

  A week before they leave, Alyssa has a tattoo etched onto her left wrist, a Taoist yin-yang black-and-white circle with the dots inside, symbolising how completely opposite forces are interconnected. Above it is the script signifying ‘Om’, the Buddhist chant heard everywhere in Nepal. ‘I’d wanted to have those two done for a while,’ she says. ‘I like the meaning behind them. I like the idea of opposites being balanced, darkness and light, good and bad. It hurt at the time, but I love them.’

  A few days later, she returns to the tattooist to have a third: the word INVICTUS stencilled on her right bicep. ‘Looking at it makes me feel even stronger, and I’ll use it for strength during tough times,’ she says. ‘I’m nervous but I think I really am prepared for the year. Everest will be about suffering. It will hurt, but I’m ready.’

  Alyssa leaves Australia for Santiago, Chile, on 4 January 2014. That day a timer appears for the first time on her website, the Everest Countdown. At the moment her connecting flight to Mendoza in Argentina, the closest town to Aconcagua, lands, the timer reads: 84 days, 10 hours, 3 minutes and 45 seconds . . .

  Aconcagua starts disastrously. On the day Alyssa arrives, two American climbers who’ve gone missing on New Year’s Eve are found dead, their bodies at the bottom of a crevasse. Park rangers report they’d both been trying to ascend the peak when they fell. Local newspapers confirm that Aconcagua has the highest death rate of any mountain in South America primarily because of its accessibility; its lack of glacier or sheer rock-face climbing lures many totally unqualified and unprepared climbers.

  Alyssa, however, remains upbeat. She knows this will be an important training climb for Everest, but the double tragedy serves to remind her that this mountain deserves plenty of respect of its own. To underestimate it could prove similarly catastrophic. There have always been fatalities. At least two climbers died in the 2012/3 season, five died in January 2009 when two were caught in a storm, two more died in falls, and another had a heart attack, while in 2000 four climbers died in the same accident when one fell and took the other three with him. There are also numerous rescues and injuries every year.

  While Aconcagua’s been described as the highest non-technical mountain in the world, since climbing the northern route – nicknamed ‘the normal route’ – doesn’t always involve ropes and axes, still only around 30 per cent of climbers who attempt the mountain make it to the top. Alyssa’s group, however, will be ascending via a much quieter and more demanding combination of the so-called ‘Polish route’, named after the Polish climbers who pioneered it, the Ameghino Traverse, the Upper Guanacos and the normal route, up to the base of the glacier.

  Yet even before Alyssa leaves Mendoza, she hits her first problem: when the officers issuing permits for the climb hear she’s only seventeen, they insist her paperwork isn’t in order. She has a letter from Glenn giving his permission for her to climb Aconcagua, but because she’s under the age of eighteen they also want the written consent of her mother, and to have both signatures authenticated by an Australian notary. The officials are adamant. If they don’t receive the documents within twenty-four hours, she won’t be able to climb Aconcagua, and she’ll be put on a plane back home. Alyssa phones Glenn.

  It’s 11.30 p.m. in Brisbane when he receives her call. He then phones Therese in Toowoomba, and races over to see her. She signs and he then tracks down one of the only four people in the city who are qualified to notarise the document, someone he once took over to Kokoda, lawyer Paul Emerson. Unfortunately, Emerson happens to be in Gatton, 50 km away, but Glenn and Therese drive there to have the papers signed.

  Over in Argentina, Alyssa is determined to remain calm. At first, she thought, Oh my God! I’ve only just arrived, and now I might have to go straight home without being allowed to climb! But then she took herself in hand. She didn’t want to panic. Things are always going wrong on expeditions and that becomes a measure of how well climbers cope with the stress. She doesn’t want to worry and get out of her focused mindset, in case she’s still able to climb.

  In the meantime, Glenn is speeding back to Brisbane to the local Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, to have the papers sent over officially to Mendoza. It takes hours of battling the bureaucracy, racing from office to office and phoning and turning up at people’s office doors to finally have the papers sent over. They trundle off on the fax.

  By then, the expedition leader, together with most of its members, has already left for the mountain, but the Australian man and their Argentinean guide, Angel, another veteran of Everest, have agreed to wait with Alyssa. As soon as the papers appear on the fax and she receives the go-ahead, they work out how they’ll be able to catch up with the others. They’re a day behind, but Alyssa asks them if they’re prepared to walk all day, from early in the morning into the night, to make the others’ camp. They agree, and they set out at a blistering pace. By 9 p.m. they’ve joined the others, who are plainly astonished that they’ve travelled so fast. For the first time, Alyssa allows herself to relax.

  They’re a total of twelve on this trip, including one other Australian, Jake Davison, who’d previously done an Aussie 10 trip with Adventure Professionals, a few Canadians and the rest South Africans. The expedition leader believes in creating a friendly atmosphere between them all, and has them talk about the high point of each day and the lowest moment. Alyssa’s not so interested in the social aspect as she’s more concentrated on the climb, but she understands that aspect might be important for the others, and joins in with as much enthusiasm as she can muster – which isn’t really much at all. It’s noticed, and noted.

  The first morning, the group sets off trekking through the Vacas Valley along dusty grey scree – broken shards of stone from centuries of rock falls. Alyssa looks around and soaks up the feeling of being among the mighty Andes. They’re nowhere near as high as the Himalayan peaks, but they have the same imposing grandeur. The atmosphere is different, though: the culture of the people they glimpse, the clothing, even having mules carrying their tents and equipment instead of yaks. Alyssa looks up and sees the snow-capped Aconcagua for the first time. ‘It’s HUGE!’ she gasps. The guide Angel laughs and tells her, ‘No, keep walking.’ A few minutes later, on her left, an even bigger monolith looms up. ‘That’s Aconcagua!’ he says.

  Nothing is quite as it appears. When they come across a raging torrent of a river, Alyssa assumes they’ll wade across. But the trek leader shakes his head, and three mules are roped together to ferry the climbers across on their backs in a series of crossings. It’s then that Alyssa realises why they didn’t simply paddle across. The water comes up to the mules’ haunches – a sure sign of plenty of snow up above, melting down below to feed the river.

  On 11 January, the group treks up the steep Relicho slope into Base Camp at Plaza Argentina, at an altitude of 4200 me
tres. Alyssa’s having no altitude issues, although she’s had a stomach ache for a couple of days, but she’s still feeling strong. Every day, she’s been walking briskly and is usually at the front, and among the first to reach their destination. When they have to leave the mules on the lower slopes, she carries her tent and equipment, as well as a share of the communal supplies, on her back with ease. All that pack walking seems to be really coming into its own. The group has a rest day, undergoing official medical checks to make sure they’re holding up well enough to go on.

  That evening, they have their first ‘group chat’. When it starts, Alyssa stands up and leaves the mess tent, saying she needs to collect her head torch. Again, it creates a stir. The expedition leader likes to hear from people, how they’re going, how they’re feeling, any issues they’re having, their highlights and lowlights. He feels irritated that she left, and while he realises that sharing with others isn’t necessarily comfortable for her, he feels it’s important for her to learn that. Her single-mindedness might in some ways be a strength, but in others it could be a weakness. He’d like to see her become more of a team-player.

  The following morning, everyone sets out for Camp I. It’s a solid climb up to 5000 metres and Angel points out all the peaks on the way that have yet to be conquered. Alyssa looks at them each curiously; that’s something that’s very different from the Himalaya, too. The approach to the camp is a very steep hill and everyone is relieved to reach the top with all their gear, ready to sleep over to acclimatise before going back down to Base Camp. That afternoon, it begins snowing, and Alyssa overhears a snatch of conversation between the leaders. The snow seems to be settling into a pattern of arriving a little earlier each afternoon on the mountain, which is a worry, especially with strong winds predicted to arrive later that week.

  The next day, they all return to Base Camp, and the trek leader announces that they’re going to have to shuffle their plans and bring forward the summit attempt in the hope of outpacing the weather. Alyssa feels her first tinge of anxiety about reaching the top. She hopes desperately that the weather won’t defeat this climb, but knows they’ll just have to wait and see.

  They move back up to Camp I the following day, skipping a planned rest day at Base Camp, and trek straight into more snow. That night, it snows heavily again and Alyssa shakes the tent walls regularly to stop it settling and leaking through onto her and her tent mate, South African Lisa. They have a rest day at the camp and Alyssa watches everything becoming blanketed in white. It’s beautiful, but at the same time it makes her feel even more anxious.

  Next comes the climb up to Camp II, at 5500 metres. With the snow covering the scree, it becomes harder to walk in the heavy mountain boots, as the scree tends to move but the boots are so firm that they don’t allow the foot to flex with it. Still, Alyssa’s feeling good. Some of the others have paid for personal porters to carry their gear, but she wanted to see how she’d manage on her own. As a result, she ends up the only woman on the trip carrying her own pack and is now carrying as much as most of the men – around 15 kg, which feels pretty light – and she’s still up at the front of the group. She’s feeling like a strong member of the expedition and is excited to be climbing higher and higher.

  That afternoon, it starts snowing heavily again and soon they’re in a fresh white wonderland. It’s also getting colder. Originally, they’d planned to have a rest day at Camp II but instead they’ll just spend one night there and go up to Camp III, at 6000 metres, the following day to strike out for the summit from there. With a bit of luck, there’ll be time to beat the snow and winds to make the top.

  The next morning, the sun is out and it’s surprisingly warm. They all swelter in their down clothes, but Alyssa smiles to herself. This is just like it was when she was rock climbing in New Zealand and exactly how it might be on Everest. She’ll just grin and bear it. Very soon, the temperature plunges back down. It’s a tough walk. She can often see Camp III in the distance, but it never seems to be getting any closer. It feels like one long, never-ending climb. She tries to concentrate on taking one step at a time. Just before she finally arrives at the camp, she can feel the beginning of an altitude headache, and it starts snowing again.

  There’s another discussion that evening about their chances of reaching the summit, and it’s decided they should try to leave early the next morning, at 3 or 4 a.m., to make that final push, to stand any chance of reaching it. Alyssa takes half a Diamox tablet and tries to sleep, to give her brain time to get used to the altitude.

  In the pitch black of 3 a.m., Alyssa’s among the first up, and quickly dresses by the light of her head torch, clipping and strapping crampons onto her boots. This will be hours of walking on snow and ice, so everyone will need the extra grip they’ll afford. It snowed during the night so the leaders of the handful of other expeditions also at Camp III have gone ahead to ‘break trail’ – wading out through the half-metre of freshly fallen snow to show other climbers where the route should be. Alyssa’s feeling nervous. There’s something amazing but nerve-racking about being in the pitch black and cold ready to hit a summit that’s so special to her. She just hopes against hope the weather will hold off for long enough so she’ll be able to get there.

  The group sets off at 4 a.m., crunching through the snow and ice, and following the little line of flickering head torches. Alyssa makes sure she’s near the front. She catches up to the leader and is excited when he says this all reminds him of his time on Everest. She feels good, but an hour out of camp the wind-chill hits, and she notices her fingers are so cold they’re starting to sting. She knows that’s a sign they might be getting frostbite, so hastily puts on her down gloves, wriggling her fingers all the time to make sure enough blood is getting through to them. After about half an hour, they feel normal again, and she relaxes. She makes a mental note to put gloves on earlier when she’s on Everest. Her hair ties are broken too, and with a buff and balaclava over her face, she keeps having to tuck her long blonde hair back into her jacket, something that’s tricky with the down mittens now on. She curses herself for not bringing more spares. That’s a mistake she’ll be sure not to make on Everest.

  Others are having more serious problems, however. One member of the expedition turns back at 6200 metres, and Lisa is having trouble breathing and starts coughing at 6300 metres. She’s advised to turn around and head back to Camp III too. Looking totally forlorn, she does so.

  Alyssa and the forward pack reach the last plateau, 400 metres away from the summit, just 160 metres below the peak. She can’t wait to get on, but everyone has to stop here for a quick drink to make sure they’re hydrated enough for the final push. They’re now at an altitude of 6800 metres, and this is the point where they’re supposed to see the sun rise. But no one can see anything. It’s a pure white-out. There are only occasional glimpses of the sky, but they’re not heartening. There seems to be a huge bank of clouds moving in, signalling the start of the strong winds that were forecast. The expedition leaders gather for a quick confab. They’re all in agreement: the falling snow, the existing soft snow from the previous few days and the wind make the risk of avalanche extremely high. It will be far too dangerous for anyone to try to summit.

  Alyssa is devastated. So close, and yet so far. She looks towards the summit longingly. Never has she felt so strong. Her headache has gone and her body is coping well with the altitude. She feels fit and ready and full of energy. She knows she could have summitted comfortably if it hadn’t been for the weather.

  Everyone turns back; no one is allowed to carry on. For two people in their group, it’s the second time they’ve not been able to make the summit. Aconcagua is now closed for business. It’s exactly the same situation as it was for Alyssa on Manaslu. Two of the stronger guys commiserate with her on having to turn back. ‘You would have had that summit, no stress,’ one of them says. ‘You were going so well.’ The date is 19 January 2014 – the same day her parents’ divorce is finalised.

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nbsp; The group starts to head down and now fellow Australian Davison begins to suffer from altitude sickness and has a splitting headache. He looks pale, is plainly exhausted and has trouble speaking. At one point, he trips and tumbles over a few rocks before coming to a halt on the ground. The others divide the contents of his pack between them to help, and Alyssa carries his heavy water bottle. Davison is amazed that she’s managing so well. He finds her phenomenal. ‘She’s so quiet and calm and collected but put her in the mountains, and she’s in her element,’ he says. ‘I’m blown away by how fit and strong she is. And her determination is second to none.’

  Stephen Bock says it was just unlucky that the mountain was closed down because of the avalanche risk, especially since they’d been at the front of the pack, within striking distance. Up to that point, he knew Alyssa would make the summit comfortably.

  ‘Alyssa was incredibly strong,’ he says. ‘She was by far the strongest of the ten we took up there; she was just solid with no whingeing or complaining; she just put her head down and bum up and got on with the job. I had a chat with the expedition leader after the climb, and we both said we think she’s where she needs to be for Everest in terms of her fitness and her mental perspective. She’s got the cone of focus on, is in a single-minded headspace and there are no chinks in her armour that I can see.’

  That expedition chief certainly agrees on Alyssa’s strength. ‘Aconcagua is a tough mountain, a real heart-breaker, but Alyssa was strong,’ he says. ‘She’s an amazing young woman. She had a minor issue with her hands but sometimes the training climbs teach you valuable lessons; that’s what they’re there to do. On Everest, everything you can control, you really need to control because you need to be able to concentrate on dealing with the elements you can’t control.

  ‘Alyssa is very, very single-minded and focused and committed. But while that’s a strength, it can also be an Achilles heel. She can be so focused, she’s almost unaware of what’s going on around her; the others are almost not in view, and you start losing a little bit of your humanity. I say that in the kindest way. She was always pleasant and nice and smiled but she was never proactive in terms of communication. She never came out of herself and offered herself. On Everest, we are going to spend two months with each other, so it would have been good to have got to know her a bit better on this trip. But hopefully I understand her a little more and will have the wisdom and age to work with her in a very positive way about who she is, and maybe encourage some things that may not be so natural or easy for her.’