by Sue Williams
On the way down Aconcagua, Alyssa is again silent, wrapped up in her own thoughts. ‘I took not being able to summit pretty badly at first, but if anything, it’s making me even more determined for my next climb on Everest,’ she says.
‘There, you have more chances in a way, as you can keep going up and back down, and then trying again. But I’m determined that on Everest, the weather won’t hold me back. I will summit Everest. I won’t accept failure.’
CHAPTER 24
Everest’s First Australians: Greg Mortimer
Greg Mortimer has stared death in the face many times on mountains both in the Andes and in the Himalaya. While he and Tim Macartney-Snape share the line honours of being the first Australians on Everest’s summit – which they reached without oxygen and up the hitherto unconquered North face in 1984 – his climbing career has never been short on drama.
‘Everest is really hard,’ he says. ‘It’s being at such an extreme altitude, and at the mercy of the cold and winds and extraordinary events of natural phenomena that are both ghastly and wondrous at the same time.’
Mortimer, who originally trained as a geologist and geochemist, has a number of firsts to his name. He was the first Australian to climb the dreaded K2, the second highest mountain on earth at 8611 metres with the second highest fatality rate among the 8000ers, the first Australian to climb Annapurna II (7937 metres) by its precarious south face, and the first Australian to reach the top of Antarctica’s highest peak, Mount Vinson (4892 metres), another of the Seven Summits.
There were many times when he thought he mightn’t make it up those mountains; and many more when he didn’t think he’d make it down again. One of his worst experiences happened close to where Alyssa climbed Aconcagua. He had just made it to the summit of Chakrarahu in the neighbouring Peruvian section of the Andes and was standing admiring the view, when the ground shook under his feet, and the whole of the top of the mountain avalanched beneath him.
‘I went off with it,’ he says now. ‘It was very steep and I was ripped off and flung from the side through the air, and fell a very long way. I can still remember falling through the air and if I close my eyes, even today, I can still feel it.
‘That would be categorised very much as a “meet your Maker” moment. I thought I was going to die. But I fell probably 75 metres and bounced along the way and got knocked out. I woke up with a broken collarbone and my head banged in. It was amazing I survived.’
On the descent of Annapurna II, he had to struggle through blizzards, wade through snow that was thigh-deep and just hope for the best as avalanches thundered down both in front of him and behind. The storm continued through that night, so the next morning he had to help dig through three metres of snow to free another climber and then push on through chest-deep snow, with a constant wary eye on avalanches on the higher slopes. It took him two and a half hours to travel 200 metres. He slept again in the snow that night before he reached Advanced Base Camp to find all his ropes swept away by icefall down the glacier.
Everest, later, was no less perilous. First there was the avalanche that wiped out their group’s camp and buried much of their equipment forever. Then there was the afternoon he climbed without sunglasses, and ended up snow blind – with the glare from the snow having burnt his eyes – unable to see a thing and in immense pain. His companions helped him to climb on, and dug a snow cave on an ice ledge to sleep on. It was then that an avalanche crashed down right where they were digging, while Mortimer, who was tied to a fixed rope below, was swept off the slope amid a torrent of snow. The rope stretched under the force of the landslide but, thankfully, held. He said, miraculously, it took his mind off the agony of his eyes.
‘Tim and I were both caught in that huge avalanche,’ he says. ‘We were very lucky to survive that. When you think about it now from the comfort of your home, it’s a very different thing from at the time. Then, it’s a little more cut and dried! It’s less emotionally loaded.’
These days, he believes, there’s a lot more known about Everest, the weather can be more accurately predicted and the routes up are more certain. It’s still, however, immensely dangerous. ‘There are a lot more people climbing but it’s still as windy and as cold and as high. Those things haven’t diminished.
‘Like Alyssa’s already found on Aconcagua and Manaslu, the weather can change everything, which engenders that sense of humility you always have on high mountains. Whenever you’re over 8000 metres, you get an overwhelming sense of extraordinary forces at work that make our human efforts seem almost puny and pathetic.’
At that height, it’s a race against time to get up and then back down, yet it takes around two hours to melt enough snow for a small drink of water, to slowly get into four layers of clothing, to put on foot liners, warm expedition socks and boots, and to tie the laces and affix crampons. Then you might only be capable of walking slowly for five minutes at a time before you have to stop for a rest, with your blood dangerously thick with red blood cells and your brain operating as if in a fog without enough oxygen. And if you’re unlucky enough to want to defecate, then that can be the closest any man gets to the pain of giving birth. ‘That’s a really serious, major event!’ says Mortimer.
‘You can physically prepare your body by training, but to have the mental fortitude for it is another thing altogether. That’s a huge part of climbing Everest. I find it pretty bloody amazing that Alyssa is so ready. I certainly wouldn’t have had that in me at all at the age of seventeen. It’s impressive.’
Alyssa herself is humbled that someone who looms so large in Australian mountaineering folklore is so encouraging. ‘Greg Mortimer has had so many near-death experiences and he knows how serious the mountains can be, yet he’s still so positive about me trying. It shows the great spirit of Australian mountaineers, and really helps give me the confidence to go for Everest!’
These days Mortimer is well known as one of our greatest adventurers, now spending a great deal of time in the Antarctic, firstly as a scientific affairs advisor for the New Zealand Antarctic Division, and then leading more than eighty expeditions there, many through his company Aurora Expeditions and Adventure Associates. He spent Christmas 2013 stuck in ice off the coast of Antarctica aboard the Russian ship Akademik Shokalskiy after strong blizzards pushed pack ice against the ship, wedging it tight. It was halfway through its month-long expedition following in the footsteps of the great Antarctic explorer and scientist Douglas Mawson, repeating his wildlife, ocean and weather observations to build a picture of changes over the past 100 years. A Chinese icebreaker, the Xue Long, had to abandon its rescue effort when it too became stuck in the ice and the passengers were finally rescued by its helicopter, which transferred them to the Australian icebreaker, Aurora Australis, for the voyage home.
‘I really believe there are no boundaries to where people should go,’ he says. ‘Everest offers a mind-expanding set of experiences that are valuable for anyone to have. And, hopefully, you’re lucky, and things don’t go wrong and cut you down to size. With Everest, it’s simply the dominant force and you go there on its terms rather than your own.’
CHAPTER 25
Ready to Risk Everything
‘You’ve got what it takes, but it will take everything you’ve got.’
– ANON
Alyssa Azar returns from Aconcagua buoyed by how well she’s done, and eager for the final test that lies ahead: Everest.
She knows it’s going to be the hardest thing she’s ever done, and probably the most life-changing, but she feels as ready as she’ll ever be. ‘Of course I do get nervous,’ she says. ‘Part of it is the danger, and part is that I want so much to do well. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I get scared at times. A goal like that is exhilarating, but it can also be daunting. I know it’s going to be painful. We all have our psychological demons. But pain is just a factor of the mind, and I’m learning to control my mind and body, so I’ll have more and more tolerance to pain.
‘T
he hardest thing for me is having some people say there’s no way I’ll be able to climb Everest. I find that very difficult but it makes me even more determined never to quit.’
As well as the journals she keeps, she takes a small hardback notebook and writes out once again all the quotations she likes to keep her motivated, as well as poems and fragments of speeches. Any time she feels self-doubt, she goes straight back to the words she’s written to keep her feeling strong. She also writes lists of things she needs to do for the future, her professional ambitions and her personal goals. She wants to learn to drive, buy her own car, get her own place, earn her own income, be independent. She wants to climb the rest of the Seven Summits and all the other 8000ers. But first, above everything else, she wants to get to the top of Everest.
She’s well aware of the dangers lying in wait with every step. The first major difficulty of the South Col route will come on the very first day after Base Camp, with the Khumbu Icefall at the head of the glacier. Here, crevasses open without warning, and seracs can thunder down.
‘That’s probably the most dangerous part of the whole climb,’ says one of Australia’s most experienced and skilled mountaineers, Andrew Lock, ‘because it’s a moving glacier and massive blocks of ice as big as home units will just collapse without warning. There’s no way of avoiding them. The first step onto the icefall could be your last.’ Camp I lies just above the icefall.
Between Camp II and III, there’s the Lhotse Face, a steep wall of ice, which can also prove perilous, he says. ‘It’s exposed premonsoon season and it’s very hard ice. There are lots of places where you can slip and where your crampons don’t bite. It’s scary when you slip and fall down for a few metres and are then stuck there, hanging on to the rope. Then between Camps III and IV there’s the Yellow Band, which can be a real scramble over rocks, and the Geneva Spur over loose steps is tricky, although you’re roped all the way. Then there are the challenges of the Death Zone . . .’
Altitude is always difficult and all climbers fear a negative reaction to it. For Alyssa, though, it might be more difficult than for older people. She’s still very young to be doing all this, believes Professor Chris Gore, who’s in charge of physiology and altitude training at the Australian Institute of Sport in Canberra.
‘Marathon runners are considered to be at their best in their early to late thirties because of the mental attitude to the sport, and physiologically you don’t get close to your peak until the late teens, early twenties,’ he says. ‘Women also have lower haemoglobin concentrations than men, which is a lesser ability to transport total amounts of oxygen through the body.’
Professor Gore lost a good friend on Everest and knows exactly the kind of risks Alyssa will be facing. ‘If she succeeds, I think it would be extraordinary, a remarkable feat. The Death Zone is very dangerous. Those who’ve climbed without oxygen often sustain long-term cognitive effects as a result. Some of the ones I’ve spoken to say their memory and cognitive functioning has never been the same since. But for those who dare to dream and want to inspire us, all power to them!’
Happily, many of the experts Alyssa’s been learning from are confident she’s up to the challenge. Stephen Bock, who’s reached the summit of Everest before, and climbed with her on Aconcagua, says she’s not like a normal girl of seventeen. She’s wise beyond her years, very capable physically and mentally, and she’s paid her dues in terms of experience.
‘I’m very impressed with her,’ he says. ‘But the most important thing you can ever have with Everest is ownership of the summit. You have to absolutely see yourself there and picture yourself at peace on the summit. You have to put it as a foregone conclusion into your mind. On Everest you just can’t doubt yourself. The moment the slightest doubt filters in, it will kill the climb. If you think, I might make it, I hope I make it, then that’s the end.
‘Instead, Alyssa will just have to focus on that day, then the next, and break it down into bite-sized chunks. She won’t be able to afford to think about two days’ time; just the next day, the next hour, the next minute. That’s the way you get through. As they always say, Don’t stare at the mountain as she’ll always stare you down. That’s good advice, too.’
Keith Fennell also feels confident. He says she’s learnt the lessons of Warrior Training well, and is a marvellous candidate for such a climb. ‘She’s fit, has good endurance and is confident,’ he says. ‘She’s smart, driven and hardworking. That’s a great start. But she will need every bit of all that if she’s going to do something that could claim her life. A lot of people die every year doing what she wants to achieve, and many of them are far more experienced and physically capable. If the conditions are right, and she has the luck everyone needs, there’s little doubt she’ll be successful. There’s so much up there, though, that you can’t control.
‘But she’s wired a certain way and has the temperament to pull it off, and I don’t think she’s capable of giving up. If someone can succeed at seventeen, it will be her.’
Alyssa’s mum, Therese, shudders every time she thinks of her daughter going into such harsh terrain. She’s read books and watched documentaries about Everest, and has a fair idea of the kind of torture Alyssa will be putting herself through. Being a nurse, Therese knows she tends to dwell, perhaps too much, on what can go wrong.
‘But I know she has all the right things in place, and she has some experience now, so it might even be enjoyable at points,’ she says. ‘One of the benefits of being young, too, is that your body does repair itself. She looks great after a trek where some people might feel rotten; she doesn’t seem to skip a beat.
‘I don’t think people shouldn’t do things. Of course, there are risks. But she is prepared and does have good support. And in life, none of us knows how long we are here for . . .’
Glenn too has mixed feelings. In some ways, he’ll be relieved when Everest is over. It’s been a long, hard slog, physically, mentally and financially. He’s always been keen to give his kids plenty of time and love, and that’s been easy with Alyssa since they’re together so much of the time, but he’s very conscious of the others’ needs too.
‘Of course, if any of the other kids said they wanted to climb Everest, or wanted to do something else, I’d do my very best, in exactly the same way, to make sure that happened. But it would always be a bit easier if one decided she just loved hairdressing and that’s what she wanted to do!’
From these years of helping Alyssa live her dream, though, he loves the fact they’ve been able to become so close. Naturally, they do fight, now and again. Just as they can be honest and open with each other when things are going well, they can be just as blunt when things go badly. One of their favourite sayings to each other is ‘Pull Your Head Out of Your Arse’, or ‘PYHOYA’ for short.
‘We can be blunt and honest, but once she’s made up her mind about something, you can’t get her to change it,’ Glenn says. ‘She’s always been very stubborn. Even as a small kid, if she didn’t get her way, she’d come out with lines like that one from the movie Tommy Boy: ‘Why say No when it feels so good to say Yes?’ Then you couldn’t help laughing, and she’d often end up getting what she wanted. So she’s a normal teenager in a lot of ways – I guess people don’t get that. I don’t see her as being any different to a kid who loves footy who’s out there in the backyard playing every day and you’re trying to get them in to do homework. It’s just that her pursuits are a little bit different.’
Others looking on simply hope for the best. Alyssa’s aunt Tanya, a performance coach in the superannuation industry, says it’s amazing what Glenn has done for Alyssa, and what, in turn, Alyssa is doing herself. She’s always got on well with Alyssa and reads her blog when she’s away, but with a racing heart, even though she often doesn’t quite understand what she’s doing.
‘When she said on her blog from Manaslu that she’d seen a serac, I thought, How cute! That must be a nice floppy animal!’ Tanya says. ‘Only later did I unders
tand what it really was. It was a huge chunk of ice that could have killed her. I try not to think too much about the dangers.’
Alyssa’s grandparents similarly try not to dwell too much on the risks. Glenn’s mother Carmel Clark says there are so many things that can go wrong, but so far, so good. She still thinks of her as a little girl, but then has to remind herself that Alyssa’s been doing these kinds of adventures now for years.
‘Glenn has got her as prepared as she can be, and is constantly checking what she’s doing, and how she’s coping, but it will be a very long three months for him with a lot of sleepless nights,’ she says. ‘We’ll all be waiting for the message that she’s down safely. He’s told her if she can’t or doesn’t feel like it on the way, she shouldn’t summit. But even if she can’t do it, and comes down, it’s nothing against her – it’ll still be a huge achievement.’
Her grandfather Richard says he admires her sense of adventure. ‘I’m very proud of Alyssa, but I do have a little bit of trepidation at the same time. I’ve always been a challenger myself and played a hell of a lot of sport, but I’ve never done anything of that magnitude. It’s a little scary. She seems a bit of a loner, but adventurous and a challenger.’
