Last week, our expedition reached the summit of Mount Everest. It was my first time climbing a mountain (last year I merely went through the Khumbu icefall but never actually climbed the mountain itself) and I was naturally very scared. In fact, I’ve never been so scared in my life, especially on the way down the mountain. By comparison, most of the climb up to the summit from Camp 4 was more challenging than scary, but negotiating one feature in particular -the notorious Hillary Step- almost cost me my life. It was about 5:20 in the morning and the sun was beginning to rise in the distance. The moon was still high in the sky and to the west we marveled at the amazing shadow that the mountain cast in the form of a pyramid. I was mesmerized and incredulous to have come so far and seen so much natural beauty. Then, without forewarning, I came across a large rock with a very flat surface which was angled quite steeply towards a 6,000-foot drop. “OK, I’ve had enough, let’s go back down to Camp 4,” I quickly told Kenton before he could clip himself onto the rope spanning the rock’s surface. “Mike, it’s only the Hillary Step”, Kenton said. “I don’t care, I’m not stepping onto that thing. Let’s go home.” To me, having reached the South Summit and gone beyond it was far more of an accomplishment than I had ever dreamed of. In fact, secretly, I had only set my sights on Camp 3 after the Navy SEALs told me that even after my training I was still not as strong as I could be. Camp 4 was a bonus, the proverbial whipped cream, and the South Summit was a cherry to top it all. No, the Hillary Step was definitely not for me. “Mike, clip onto the rope! Now!” Kenton yelled. I refused. Especially so after Kenton had traversed the Hillary Step and I had watched his crampons fight the slippery rock’s surface and slide violently towards the abyss. Panic set in and all my Navy SEAL mental toughness training came into play in order for me not to have a mental breakdown. A long line of climbers were waiting, rather impatiently, behind us and I was blocking their way. Finally, I clipped myself in and very gingerly began negotiating the frightening obstacle. Just as I had feared, I almost instantly began to slide off the rock, towards the deadly drop. “Hold onto the rope, Mike!” Kenton yelled at the top of his lungs. Quite by accident, I had clipped myself into an old rope from a past season. My hand reached for a third rope, which arrested the slide of death, and with considerable acrobatic improvisation, I managed to whip across the cold boulder. Kenton was visibly relieved while I was quite shaken, but not long thereafter, we reached the summit. It was on the way down that tragedy almost cast itself over the expedition. 

On another note, here’s a link to an ITN News clip of Ran and the rest of the expedition relaxing at the Hyatt Regency after returning to Kathmandu on Sunday.

Back in Kathmandu & relaxing at the Hyatt Regency