by Sue Williams
Back home, the Today Show contacts Alyssa and she gives them a live interview at 3.30 a.m. her time when the temperature’s -20° C. She talks about what’s happened but says she just doesn’t know what might happen next. Other media try to get comment. ‘But all we’re doing is sitting staring at the mountain, waiting to climb and wondering whether we’ll be able to,’ she says. ‘We all feel so desperately sad for the Sherpas, but would it be better for them for us to climb, so at least they’ll have an income from this season? No one knows. It is a very difficult and frustrating time.’
News of the tragedy echoes around the world and starts a fierce debate about whether the Sherpas are paid enough to risk their lives for rich overseas mountaineers. The Sherpas themselves are angered by what they see as the low levels of compensation offered to bereaved families. One foreign climbing expedition leader reports that their Sherpas have been threatened if they insist on climbing. The truth gets lost somewhere in the cracks between anger, sorrow and confusion.
Meetings are held at Base Camp between Sherpas and a government minister, between Sherpas and the commercial expedition companies, and between Sherpas keen to continue and those eager to call off the season. Two more Sherpas perish on their way home from Base Camp; one in an accident and the other after being struck by lightning. The government finally lifts the life insurance for Sherpas to $15 000 and more money is raised by climbers and companies to help the families of the victims.
Eventually, with the situation still in stalemate, the government offers all the climbers a permit that will be valid the next time they come to Nepal to climb Everest. With many of the icefall doctors’ ropes and ladders destroyed by the avalanche, and the Sherpas mostly reluctant to return up the glacier where so many of their colleagues have just perished, it gradually becomes evident that no one will be continuing their climb this year.
There are a few who don’t want to accept defeat. Ogwyn, the would-be wingsuit jumper, says he still wants to complete his stunt until finally he’s persuaded to back down. A Chinese woman, Jing Wang, flies part of the way up by helicopter to skip the Khumbu Icefall and makes it to the summit, an effort not officially recognised as a real climb from bottom to top. An American climber hires a helicopter to take her to Camp II but then abandons her attempt shortly after Camp III. The documentary film team change the focus of their film to record the arguments and politics among Sherpas and foreign climbers over whether to continue the climbing season. They emerge with the award-winning film Sherpa, eventually released in 2016. Australian Will Sayer goes home.
Alyssa was among the last people left on the mountain. She didn’t leave until it became clear that her team had no other choice. The long trek back to Lukla then gave her plenty of time to think about what had happened.
‘I felt very sad for those Sherpas who had lost their lives and their families,’ Alyssa says. ‘Of course, it was devastating that I couldn’t climb, but you have to keep things in perspective. The mountain will be there next year. I think my main feeling was one of disbelief. Nothing like that, on that scale, had ever happened on Everest before. Everest had never been shut down. It took me a while to process everything that had happened.
‘It was a tragic accident that hit everyone hard. The whole trip almost felt like it didn’t happen, as I think everyone was in a state of shock at the magnitude of the accident and just general disbelief of all that went on. Unfortunately it also turned very political and everything that unfolded was out of our control. I hung in with high hopes, but this year I now know just wasn’t the year. Once it was clear no one could climb on I was ready to leave and reset myself for another year.
‘I’ve had other attempts on mountains where I got turned around by outside circumstances and so I dealt with it. I have a lot of respect for the Sherpas and climbing with the Sherpas is always an honour. They’re incredible people and this accident has proven that no matter who you are, anything can happen.’
Alyssa’s supporters tried to buoy her with the news that, if she were to climb in 2015, she still stood a chance of becoming the youngest non-Sherpa female in the world to summit Everest. The current eighteen-year-old record-holder’s birthday was after Alyssa’s. But that wasn’t to be either. On 25 May 2014, thirteen-year-old Indian schoolgirl Malavath Purna scaled Everest from the northern, Tibetan, side. That record was now unassailable.
‘But, honestly, I didn’t really mind about that at all,’ Alyssa says. ‘That didn’t affect me. I think it’s great that she did it. Any time anyone achieves something like that it is wonderful. It encourages other people to follow their dreams, and realise that anything is possible. I was happy that she’d been successful. Good on her!’
What was much more important to Alyssa was whether she’d be able to try again the next year. Her dad’s agreement to help back her next trip, in 2015, came as a huge relief. He’d been enormously thankful she was safe, but felt for her after all the effort she’d put in. ‘It had been such a massive build-up to this,’ he says. ‘To see it snatched away from her like that was heartbreaking. I could tell she had so many mixed emotions, from the hurt and respect for the Sherpas to her own personal disappointment. But I’ve always been happy to support her. I know Everest is risky, but it’s what she’s always wanted to do since she was very little. I also know it’s going to be hard to raise the money again, but we’ll do the very best we can.’
For Alyssa, the decision to try again was an easy one. From the moment she walked off Base Camp, she was already planning how to make it happen. ‘I immediately decided to reset myself and go again next year,’ she says. ‘It’s going to be hard to raise the funds again for another try, but I’m not willing to give up on Everest. R.I.P. to the Sherpas who lost their lives on Everest this year. You will never be forgotten. And I’m not going to forget my dream of climbing to the summit of Everest either. There may be hurdles in life at every stage, but I want people to realise that they only make you stronger, and your goals somehow so much more worth achieving.’
CHAPTER 27
In the Event of My Death
‘You don’t overcome challenges by making them smaller, but by making yourself bigger.’
– JOHN C. MAXWELL, AUTHOR
If you’re reading this, it means I have died on Mt Everest, Alyssa wrote.
But I don’t want people to feel sad for me, or to criticise my decision to make another push on Everest. I’d rather they feel happy that I died as I wanted to live – challenging myself to reach the roof of the world.
I’d like to be remembered that way too, as someone determined to follow my dream, wherever it ended up taking me, and whatever the final price. And, of course, that decision to climb was mine, and mine alone.
Alyssa was determined to return to Everest to try to climb in 2015, a year after the deadly avalanche down the Khumbu Icefall. But she was now under no illusion at all about how dangerous her dream could be. She’d already seen too many people die on the mountain for that, and this time she was even more prepared than before.
She even wrote out a letter to be published in the event of her death, to make it absolutely clear that she would have died doing what she most wanted to do in the world and that no one, particularly not her parents, was responsible. It was a morbid, desperately sad task, but she decided it was also one that was absolutely necessary.
The past twelve months had been extremely tough for Alyssa. She’d been through the whole gamut of emotions – from feeling so low following her aborted 2014 climb to the thrill of finally being able to raise enough money to support another attempt in 2015 – and she’d worked as hard as she ever thought possible in the interim to make sure she was ready, in mind, body and spirit.
‘When I got home last time, I was a bit depressed and I felt really flat, without any motivation,’ she says. ‘That wasn’t like me at all. I felt completely mentally drained. It was a hard lesson for me as I’m always so determined to follow my goals. But I managed to get myself out of i
t by focusing on the possibility of climbing Everest again this year. I had no idea whether we’d be able to raise the money or not, nor even whether the mountain would be open again, but I just had to tell myself I was going, concentrate on that and know that if the opportunity came up, I’d be completely prepared. That’s the way I ended up getting out of the mood I was in. I know that sometimes facing hurdles and difficulties just makes you stronger in the long run.’
Glenn was keen to see exactly how mentally tough his daughter was, and was pleased when she suggested she go on a three-week program at theMill, an elite training facility in Fremantle, Western Australia, run by ex-SAS soldiers. Applicants for their courses are required to go through a tough ‘initiation’ process to see if they’re fit and disciplined enough to take part in the strength, power and endurance regime, with two-thirds routinely rejected. Gruelling workouts at theMill include circuit training, dragging tyres, clambering up rope ladders, swinging on Olympic rings and battling a variety of punitive exercise machines. The physical demands are only part of the story, however. They usually come with a series of ruthless mind games, where participants are exercised to exhaustion and then told to do more. It was similar to the kind of training she’d done with that other ex-SAS soldier Keith Fennell in November 2013, but it was even more gruelling and for a much longer period.
‘They want to see how determined you are, and how you’d never give up,’ says Alyssa, who attended in June 2014, a month and a half after her return home from Nepal. ‘It was pretty tough. I worked with an ex-Marine Commando from the UK who was 6 foot 7 and as intense as hell. He pushed me so hard, but I quite enjoyed it! It’s great to see how hard you can push yourself. Sometimes you think you’re finished but you can still keep going. That was a valuable lesson for me. If I’m on Everest and I think I have nothing left, I’ll know in my heart that yes, I can keep going. So many of us don’t realise how much we can achieve when we put our mind to it . . .’
While Alyssa learnt a lot from her theMill experience, they were so impressed by her, they even featured her on their website. The youngest Australian to complete the Kokoda track at age 8, Alyssa (now 17) shows what passion, hard work and dedication can achieve, they wrote under a photo of her.
Three months later, Alyssa took part in her third Kokoda Track trek, this time helping Glenn run a Mates4Mates adventure challenge, devised to assist in the physical and psychological rehabilitation of current or former members of the defence forces. Alyssa was there to help a participant who’d lost a leg in Afghanistan and was tackling the trip with a prosthetic leg. ‘But he didn’t miss a beat!’ she laughs. ‘He didn’t need anything!’
While Alyssa was still growing in confidence about her ability to summit Everest, she and Glenn just weren’t sure about their ability to raise the necessary funds for the next trip. To make up the money needed for the 2014 attempt, Glenn had borrowed a sizeable sum of money from a friend who was setting up a branch of his Fighting Fit fitness business in the UK, and who’d said he’d be happy to give him a loan towards his daughter’s climb. He still had to pay that back. ‘But I told Alyssa to concentrate on her training, and somehow we’d find a way,’ says Glenn. ‘I didn’t want her to get sidetracked thinking about the money. I felt sure we’d manage, somehow.’
Gradually, little by little, the money mounted up. Glenn decided to combine one of his expeditions with Alyssa’s 2015 trek to Base Camp, to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. Alyssa was interviewed for a few ambassadorships for various companies. And the pair made a fresh bid to win new sponsors. In that, they found a valuable ally.
The general manager of talent brand agency Ensemble was watching TV one night when he saw Alyssa appear as a panel guest on Channel Ten’s The Project. He contacted the company’s brand-partnership account director, Olivia Santilli, and suggested they approach Alyssa and Glenn for a meeting. ‘We support rising stars and we felt Alyssa fitted the bill perfectly,’ says Olivia. ‘For me, it wasn’t a hard sell. Once we met her, saw her personality, her dedication, her determination and her confidence, she won us over immediately. She’s an amazing young woman. She doesn’t even seem to fear death; she just wants to follow her dream. She’s a girl who’s really gone for it. As a brand, that really has value.’
With the help of Ensemble, a major sponsorship from Acquire Learning – an online education-to-employment business with offices in both Australia and the UK – quickly followed. They saw Alyssa as an inspirational figure, keen to improve her life and aim for her goals, whatever the price. That seemed a perfect fit with an organisation intent on improving other people’s lives – particularly those of young Australians – through access to education and online training.
‘She’d achieved so much already and her message is all about challenging yourself and achieving your aims and getting everything you want if only you’re dedicated enough, and want it enough,’ says Acquire spokesman Simon Mossman. ‘For us, it’s brilliant brand alignment. Alyssa’s drive, her tenacity and her approachability and friendliness and the fact that she loves doing work for charity . . . They’re all the qualities of our organisation as well. She comes across as wise and experienced beyond her years, and she has the kind of charisma and magnetism of a real star in the making.’ Acquire’s marketing project manager, Matthew Boyd, was similarly won over. ‘When I met Alyssa, I couldn’t believe that this seventeen-year-old girl was tackling such a huge feat as Everest,’ he says. ‘Alyssa joined a very small and elite list. She knows exactly what she wants, and takes all the steps to get there, and she really inspires others.’
Alyssa and Glenn were always extremely careful with the sponsorships they took on, however. A mining company approached her, offering $150 000 if she’d be the face of their firm. She refused. ‘At the time, we were really struggling,’ says Glenn. ‘But we just couldn’t accept their money. We didn’t like what they were doing, and we felt we had to be true to our own values.’
Previous sponsors like Di Bella Coffee and psyborg were still on board and some other newcomers were also welcomed. Alyssa was still giving talks wherever she could, and entrepreneur Dick Smith came forward to say how impressed with her he was and donate $10 000 to her cause.
Finally, in October 2014, Alyssa returned to Nepal, this time to climb Ama Dablam, the soaring snow-capped Himalayan peak that dominates the eastern skyline during the trek to Everest Base Camp. Alyssa had often gazed at it and hoped she might one day tackle it after she’d successfully climbed Everest. She never dreamt that she’d be trying it before she’d had the chance to summit Everest. At 6812 metres, the mountain nicknamed the ‘Matterhorn’ of the Himalayas is just over 2000 metres lower than Everest, but its high ridges and steep faces make it a challenge, with a demanding combination of rock-climbing and scaling inclines deep in ice and snow, with plenty of jumaring on ropes. Sir Edmund Hillary once called it ‘unclimbable’.
‘I really enjoyed being back in the area,’ Alyssa says. ‘On the trek there, I passed through a lot of the places, like Namche Bazaar, that have so much history for me, since I’ve been going from a young age. And it was wonderful to see Everest again, and think, yes, one day I’ll be back!’
It’s a steep climb from Ama Dablam’s Base Camp to Camp I, trudging mostly upwards for seven hours. Once there, Alyssa didn’t feel too good, and realised she wasn’t at all hungry, recognising the first signs of altitude sickness. She didn’t panic, however. She tried to sleep and the next morning climbed higher for about an hour to acclimatise herself a little more before turning around and heading back down for the next two nights. By the time she returned to Camp I, she felt good, and ready to tackle the steep climb, using crampons and ropes on rock and ice, up to Camp II. She made steady progress until a Sherpa alerted her that she’d have to edge her way past a dead climber whose body had been left on a narrow rock ledge until he could be taken down.
The dead man was forty-two-year-old Russian climber Murad Ashurly, who’d successfully summitted
the mountain, but had died when his fixed rope broke while he was descending from Camp II to Camp I. No one had been able to take him down by helicopter because of the bad weather. ‘It’s the first time I’d seen a dead body that close up,’ Alyssa says. ‘You feel very sad, but at the same time you know it’s a normal part of climbing and it happens on every mountain. The Sherpas had hidden his face but because we were on a ridgeline, there was no space to avoid him so you had to kind of step over him. I know people criticise climbers as being cold-hearted but sometimes there’s no other option. It was upsetting, but it’s a risk we all face every day. Every climber up there knows that could be any one of us one day.’
On reaching Camp II, the Sherpa guiding her trip suggested they skip the avalanche-prone Camp III and head straight to the summit in one day instead. The glacier that hangs over Camp III is considered extremely dangerous and in 2006 six climbers were killed there after a large serac collapsed from the overhang, sweeping away the tents of Europeans and Sherpas alike.
‘So we got up at 2 a.m. the next day and set off in the pitch black, just focusing on what’s in front of you that you can see by torchlight,’ she says. ‘The snow and ice were pretty deep and we were just digging in our crampons and jumaring up the ropes. After a few hours, you get into a rhythm and eventually the sun came up and we could see the clear blue sky, but then you’d go back into the shade and then back into the bright sunlight as you curve your way up. We could see Camp III in the distance, but we carried on, up and up. Finally, the summit of the mountain appeared, which is so cool! It looks just like a picture.
‘We hit the second plateau and then started walking again. It’s fairly steep and, again, it’s one foot in front of the other. The last little section, you can’t see the peak until you’re right on it. And then you get there. It felt incredible, especially after the disappointments of Manaslu and Aconcagua. I had a photo of me taken, and put an Australian flag and a sponsor flag there and I just stood there, marvelling. To actually be able to stand on a summit was a very good feeling. From there, I was looking right at Everest in the background. It was magnificent. I vowed that soon I’d be standing on that summit too.’
