“Some of the accommodations were interesting, to say the least,” Olivia said diplomatically. The first hotel had been pretty good, but a couple had been absolute nightmares. Flea-infested rat holes featuring rooms with wooden platforms for beds and iron stoves that burned dried yak dung instead of firewood. She changed the subject rather than relive the memory. Once was enough. “I couldn’t help noticing your accent. I’ve been meaning to ask you for months now. Are you from Pretoria or Johannesburg?”
“Jo’burg.”
“I know it well. I was lucky enough to visit during the World Cup a few years ago.”
“I wish the home team could have had a better showing, but I trust you had a pleasant stay in my homeland.”
“I did. Thank you for asking. Cold beer. Warm, friendly locals. Who could ask for more?”
“Next time you go, please let me know.” Rae’s voice dropped an octave into what Olivia assumed was her come-hither register. “I’d be happy to be your tour guide.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Olivia said, resorting to diplomacy once more. Rae was sexy but not her type.
She turned to the woman at Rae’s side. Her sweat-stained baseball cap was worn low, most likely to guard against the same brisk wind that kept finding its way inside the collar of Olivia’s parka. Her short black hair held a smattering of gray, though her wind-burned face was unlined save for the faint crow’s feet that framed dark blue eyes that reminded Olivia of a new pair of jeans. She was relatively short—only five-six or five-seven, if that—but she projected confidence, making her seem much taller. Where Rae was beautiful, her companion was handsome. The kind of woman who could easily find her way into Olivia’s bed. Olivia introduced herself and waited for a response.
“Samantha Murphy. Call me Sam.”
I’d rather call a cab to take us to the nearest hotel.
“Pleased to meet you.” Sam didn’t look as good as her results. She looked even better. Olivia held her gaze until Chance cleared his throat.
“What are we, chopped liver?”
“I’m sorry.” She reluctantly let go of Sam’s hand. “Please allow me to introduce the rest of my team.”
“I hope you’re as excited to be here as we are to have you here,” Sam said after all the introductions were made and handshakes were exchanged all around. “If Jimmy has done his job as well as I suspect, he has helped you increase your stamina and your ability to function at altitude. Soon it will be my turn to test both. You’ll be seeing a great deal of me over the coming days and weeks. I’ll be your guide during the climb. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your quarters.” She led them inside. “The accommodations won’t remind you of a five-star hotel, but at least they’re warm. Although the temperatures are pretty pleasant right now, they’ll drop precipitously when the sun goes down.”
Olivia and her team trailed Sam and Rae to a room filled with military-style cots that looked like remnants from World War II. A small bookcase between two of the cots was filled with worn paperback and hardback books recounting famous climbs. Successful and failed attempts to conquer mountains both great and small. Black-and-white pictures of Mt. Everest and Annapurna were taped to the sides of the bookcase. Photographs of famous adventurers were interspersed between them. Robert Peary, the first man to reach the North Pole. Roald Amundsen, the first man to reach the South Pole. Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay, the first men to reach the summit of Mt. Everest. Edurne Pasaban, the first woman to climb the world’s fourteen highest peaks.
Olivia was impressed by the display. Climbing purists bemoaned the commercialization of guided expeditions. Olivia understood their complaints. Many of the most famous mountains, Everest especially, had been climbed so many times they had lost some of their allure. But it was obvious Sam and Rae were attracted by the adventure of mountain climbing not the lucre that could be earned as a result.
Olivia and her team wearily dropped their oversized backpacks on the canvas floor and tentatively tested the cots’ sturdiness. Chance, the tallest and heaviest at six foot eight and two hundred twenty-five pounds, went first. The cot creaked but remained intact.
“If it’ll hold me, you’ll be fine.” He winked at Gigi, who was eighteen inches shorter and more than one hundred pounds lighter.
Gigi stuck out her tongue. Her baby face made her look as juvenile as her impulsive act.
“We e-mailed you this list before the trip began. In case you didn’t bring yours, here’s an extra copy.”
Sam handed each of them a comprehensive checklist. The spreadsheet was divided into sections delineating everything from clothes to climbing equipment to camping gear. Radio buttons next to each line item indicated what the climbers were expected to provide and what the women from The View from the Top would supply.
“This list encompasses everything you’ll need for the expedition. Your supply items are bundled over there.” Sam pointed to the far side of the room, where six orderly piles of equipment lay. “Each pile is clearly labeled so you’ll be able to tell what belongs to whom. Go through the items and make sure Rae and I got your sizes right. I’m not naming any names, but the handwriting on some of your forms was a bit difficult to read.”
Chance elbowed Olivia in the ribs. “I think she means you.”
“Speak for yourself. The chicken scratch you call an autograph is worse than mine.”
“After you complete your inventory,” Sam continued, “meet us in the conference room for an equipment demo and a light lunch. We’ll give you a few minutes to relax and sort everything out. See you in thirty.”
“What’s a crampon?” Chance asked after Sam and Rae left the room. “Is it anything like what my wife sends me to the store for from time to time to keep my ego in check?”
“No,” Gigi said, her tanned cheeks tinted pink.
“And from what I’ve seen,” Olivia added, “nothing can keep your ego in check.”
“Except for Dirk Nowitzki,” Peter said, referring to the Dallas NBA team’s star power forward. “The Mavericks had your number last year.”
“Oh, you got jokes, huh? We’ll see who’s laughing when the season starts. Dirk and the Mavs will be in my house on Christmas Day and I don’t plan on being a charming host.”
Olivia let Chance and Peter go back-and-forth for a few minutes before she put an end to their good-natured bantering. “Okay, guys.” She began ticking off items on her checklist. “Let’s get the fun stuff done so we can see what our tour guide has to say.”
*
Sam eyed the motley crew systematically decimating the tray of food on the conference table. If they worked as a team, they could accomplish feats they could never achieve individually. But a team was only as strong as its weakest member. If they didn’t trust one another, the weak link would soon reveal itself. How many would make it up the mountain? All? Some? Half? Most? Whatever their number, it was her job to make sure they made it back alive.
“What’s your assessment?” she asked as she and Jimmy stood in the back of the room.
“They all have good technique and excellent stamina,” he replied in Nepali.
She sensed his hesitation. “But?”
“You may need to keep your eye on her.” He discreetly indicated Dr. Bradshaw. “On the way here, she kept trying to push the pace instead of following the one I set. Her enthusiasm might cause her to make a mistake she might not be able to recover from.”
Sam wasn’t surprised to hear a powerful woman like Olivia Bradshaw had trouble ceding control. “She’s used to giving orders not taking them.”
“I know,” Jimmy said with a grin. “She reminds me of you.”
He slipped out of the room before she could attempt to defend herself.
“You should hear him describe the looks on their faces the first time they saw the mountain,” Rae whispered. “He said it was like they’d simultaneously shit their shorts.”
Sam snorted laughter. She had experienced a reaction identical to theirs
the first time she stood at the base of Mt. Everest. “Priceless.”
“I’ll bet you a thousand rupees at least one of them won’t even begin the attempt tomorrow.”
Sam performed a quick calculation. Based on the current exchange rates, a thousand rupees was around twenty American dollars. With the money they were making from this trip, she could afford to take a risk.
“My money’s on Chance,” Rae said. “Is he really going to put himself through the torture of a climb this strenuous so close to the start of a season most think will be his last?”
“From what I could gather, he appears to be Dr. Bradshaw’s best friend. He’s come this far. There’s no way he’s going to let her down now. I think Mr. Moneybags over there will be the one who backs out.” She glanced at Roland Chang, who was halfway through his third club sandwich. “He’s in this for the adventure. After I complete my spiel, he’s going to realize he’s already had all the adventure he can take.”
Rae held out her hand, pinky extended. “I’ll take that bet.”
Sam curled her pinky around Rae’s, then strode to the front of the room and addressed her audience. “Let’s get started.” She faltered when she saw Dr. Bradshaw gazing at her intently. She had given the preparedness speech a thousand times, but one look from this woman had her so flustered she couldn’t remember a word. Women never got under her skin. In her pants, yes, but this was something different. What was it about Dr. Bradshaw that had her so on edge? She cleared her throat, giving herself an extra moment to gather her thoughts.
“The good news is you’ve already made it past the four thousand meter mark. The bad news is you have another four thousand meters to go. Give yourselves a hand for being halfway through your first eight thousander. That’s quite an accomplishment.” She led the room in a round of applause, taking note of the group’s obvious camaraderie as they whistled, cheered, and slapped one another on the back. She hoped their high spirits wouldn’t begin to flag as the air grew thinner and tempers grew shorter.
“Thank you for choosing Rae, myself, Jimmy, and the rest of our team to lead you on your climb. We’re going to do everything possible to help you complete your mission. If you start to suffer from information overload, please let me know and I’ll give you a few minutes to decompress. We have a lot to go over, so let’s get started. The first part of today’s session might bore you to tears, but bear with me. The information I’m about to impart could save your lives in the days and weeks to come.”
She smiled to herself when each member of the quintet perked up. The line never failed to get everyone’s attention. Now that she had it, she couldn’t let it go to waste.
She listed each piece of equipment and demonstrated its use. Everything from the carabiners to the climbing harnesses to the ice axes. Even the foam earplugs designed to block out the noise of the tent material flapping from the wind threatening to rip the temporary shelter from its moorings and send the sleeping climbers sliding down the mountain.
“The Himalayas are a place of spiritual refuge for many people and must be treated with respect. I like to use small teams in order to limit damage to the mountain, so we’ll use a ratio of one porter to two climbers. Jimmy, Tenzing, Lhakpa, and Mingma are here to assist you, but they aren’t your personal butlers. It’s up to you to make sure you follow the Leave No Trace guidelines and reduce your impact on the environment. If any of you are high maintenance, please let me know now and I’ll arrange transport to the nearest hotel with concierge service.”
No one took her up on her offer.
“Pasang, who provided your lunch today, will be traveling with us to make sure we don’t go hungry. Because if you have to depend on me to do the cooking, we might starve before the first week is up.”
She pointed to the smiling teenager who was refilling everyone’s water glasses. He was Jimmy’s younger son. Unlike his brother Dinesh the monk, he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. Sam had given him an entry-level position as cook while he worked on his climbing skills. If he was anything like his father, he would move up from cook to climber in no time—resulting in a bump in pay and earning him rock star status in his village. Here in Nepal, climbers were revered almost as much as the mountains themselves.
“We’ll want to be as light as possible so Jimmy and his crew will carry most of the equipment and supplies until it’s time to use them. Non-perishable items will be rationed between each camp during the ascent. The camps will remain in place until we descend, at which time we’ll break camp and erase all signs we were ever there. I can’t stress this enough. Leave No Trace means just that. Everything we take with us has to come back with us. And I mean everything. Police your areas at night. I don’t want to see any discarded cigarette butts or empty soda cans. If I do, it’s a fifty dollar fine per infraction, which is a hell of a lot cheaper than the penalty imposed by the Nepalese government.”
Sam felt like a headmistress admonishing the incoming class on the first day of school. She hoped her charges were paying attention.
“Now that you’re sufficiently chastened, let’s move on to one of the most important items in our arsenal.” She patted a portable oxygen tank. “After we reach the seven thousand meter mark, which is approximately twenty-three thousand feet, you’ll want to use the oxygen.” She showed how to affix the mask and turn on the gas. She waited for each member of the team to follow her lead before she continued. “A handful of expert climbers have managed to reach the summit without using supplemental oxygen. Sherpas do it on a routine basis. A few of you might want to try to duplicate their feat. You’re free to try, but I wouldn’t recommend it. You’ll want to have your wits about you at all times. To do that, you’ll need to have a clear head. Once we pass fifteen thousand feet, even the simplest tasks will seem like quantum physics.”
She put away her props. “Now for the outerwear. The weather here is pretty mild this time of year. Sixties during the day, forties to fifties at night. Fahrenheit, that is. Even after all these years, my Celsius conversion is still a little shaky. Shorts and a light jacket should be okay for the first couple of legs, but make sure you pack rain gear and cold weather attire for the subsequent segments.”
“What about snow?” Marie-Eve asked. “I expected it to be freezing, but it’s warmer here than it is at home. I’m beginning to think I brought my skates for nothing.”
Sam laughed quietly, remembering an interview Marie-Eve gave in her hometown newspaper in which she said she planned to climb up the mountain but skate down it. Ten years ago, Sam might have said something along those lines, but the amount of her bravado decreased as the number of candles on her birthday cake increased. Was she really about to turn thirty-seven? It seemed like just yesterday she was twenty-five. But that was two lifetimes, dozens of climbs, and several thousand miles ago.
“Like the old saying goes, if you don’t like the weather, wait fifteen minutes; it’ll change. Nepal has four seasons: winter, spring, monsoon, and autumn. The monsoon season ended last month. Most of the lower elevations shouldn’t see snow until late November or early December, but don’t be surprised if we see a few flakes before we reach the top.”
“Are those rain clouds or snow clouds I see coming down the mountain?” Dr. Bradshaw asked. “According to my research, some October trekkers have run into torrential rains, golf ball-sized hail, and freak snowstorms. I’d like to know what you think we’re in for.”
Sam, who had been in complete control once she began her presentation, felt herself getting lost in those green eyes. “Um, those are, uh—”
“Rain clouds,” Rae cut in. “If you’re worried about blizzards and whiteouts, don’t be. We shouldn’t see real weather for a couple of months. My advice is something you as a physician have likely said more than once: prepare for the worst and expect the best.”
Sam quickly regained her footing. “Nepal’s unspoiled beauty makes it a popular destination for nature lovers. While Jimmy led you here, I’m sure you notic
ed the crowds of trekkers on the paths.” Dr. Bradshaw and her team murmured in agreement. “Pretty soon, those crowds will disappear and we’ll pretty much have the mountain to ourselves. Two other teams will be making ascents this month, but both will be at least a week behind us.”
She flipped on the overhead projector. A colorful map of Annapurna I appeared on the wall. “This is the route I intend for us to take.” She directed the beam of her laser pointer at the map. “As you can tell from these markers, we’ll set up camp at various elevations. Six ‘permanent’ camps and several temporary ones. If everything goes according to plan, we’ll reach Camp Two by the end of the first week, Camp Four by the middle of the third week, and Camp Six by the beginning of the fifth. Then we’ll return to base camp for a few days to marshal our strength before we begin our assault on the summit. The last temporary camp will be placed here at the base of the ice wall.” She indicated a spot on the map that represented an area over twenty-two thousand feet up. “Once we clear the ice wall, we’ll move to the most difficult part of the climb—the rock bands at twenty-four thousand and twenty-five thousand feet. Make it past those and it’s clear sailing to the summit.”
“If it isn’t proprietary, I’d like a copy of your map,” Dr. Bradshaw said. “I want to bump it up against some of the topographic charts I downloaded in Kathmandu to check for anomalies. I’d also like a copy of the latest Doppler readout to see just how large the approaching storm is.”
Sam admired her attention to detail. Was she always this thorough—and this sexy? “I reconnoitered the mountain last month and didn’t see any changes from previous trips, but I’d be more than happy to provide you with any information you feel you may need. As a matter of fact, we’ll make copies for each of you.” She pulled the slide off the projector and handed it to Rae.
“I’m on it,” Rae said. “Back in a tick.”
“Now that we’ve run through the basics,” Sam said after Rae left to prepare the requested documentation, “let’s move on to survival techniques. The most difficult factors to consider when mountaineering are weather conditions, which can be predicted, and avalanches, which cannot. As Dr. Bradshaw pointed out, we have a weather system rolling in. It might dump a couple of inches of rain on us and muddy the track a bit, but—fingers crossed—I don’t expect it to be a cause of concern.”
Murphy's Law Page 2
