Dave Hahn

The East Fork of the Rongbuk Glacier doesn't make it to the Central Fork these days. It gives up about ¾ of a mile from the Central Valley. So the walking gets tough because the glacier snout is routing around and pushing up big piles of dirt about 15 minutes above Camp I.

You pass through this transition zone from terra-firma to mobile landscape by going up and down on loose piles of rock and dirt. Don't get lost here because then you will have to explain to your laughing team-mates how a thousand crapping, hair shedding, hoof-scuffing yaks made the correct move here and you didn't. Get it right and you are now working up the right moraine of the glacier, seeing black ice under the dirt from time to time, gazing at the violent bit of river you get to see popping out from under the glacier and then back in in some spot you don't want to go.

As I say, this is the tough bit. The altitude is getting on 19,000' but it isn't staying there. You keep having to go up and down, and turn down the Pearl Jam, pull off the Tchaikovsky. Rocks fall down these mountainsides. Heck, if you get really unlucky, perhaps you'll be in this spot with a book-on-tape when that little glacier up above lets loose with an avalanche. Anyway, it is a good spot to hurry through.

For me, it is tough to get through this area without remembering how many times I've staggered "down" through after some up-mountain fun. Trying to get to BC while bruised, frost-nipped, peeing blood, seeing a tad poorly, with lips and tongue sunburned, throat on fire, pack belt slipping off where I used to have shoulders and a butt. This part of up and down is exquisite in those times... and you tell yourself, "I can climb Mt. Everest, but I can't get up this 50 foot dirt pile without resting three more times... but not four times... but not four." Ahh, but that is "down," best not to jump ahead to all that fun.

Keep trudging up, pull on your Gore-tex bibs and jacket (this year's colors please) if an afternoon snow shower starts. Stop thinking and walk for a while, and you are at Intermediate Camp. We teamed up with Russell Brice, the only other guide on the North Side this year, to keep an IC. Russell has it nicely furnished and he found a splendid Tibetan caretaker, Chuldim, to keep out the riff raff. Just show Russell's business card to get in. That works fine, my own card isn't as cool looking. I wanted a secret handshake, but it would have been too tough to translate for Chuldim. Chuldim is becoming a star. All of our team come up or down raving about his friendly and gracious manner, marveling at the hours of prayer he fits in, turning IC into one of the world's great monasteries. Up in the morning and on your way... or shave your head and stay a few years... with a whole stack of Russell's cards.

Out of IC, just go up one more big heap of broken rock and then down again. But go down a bunch this time, because you are going to get off the side and onto the famous medial moraine of the East Fork. The upper part of the glacier pinches Changtse (Everest North Peak), and a pile of rock gets dragged down the length of the glacier as a result. When you climb up onto the spine of this medial moraine, the walking gets a lot easier, but now you have another big problem. If you are like most folks, you will now try to capture some incredible scenery on video or film, and you probably won't do justice to what surrounds you.

The glacier "surface" on either side of you consists of 100 foot high daggers of white and blue ice. "Sails," some people say, or "frozen waves." To me though, it is just walking into a shark's mouth surrounded by countless teeth, and looking over to the right you see that Everest's North Face has reappeared, doubtless in complete control of the shark's mouth.

These teeth are an interesting phenomenon. On Mount Rainier, for instance, when the sun shines a lot in a given summer, the glacier surface becomes rough with "sun cups." Dirt on the snow focuses the sun, cupping out a spot, which further intensifies the sunlight, cupping the surface more until pinnacles of snow three feet tall separate the cups — it makes walking difficult — all those little pinnacles. Neve Penitente is what it is known as, the snow is praying... all the pinnacles pointing at the sun.

Things are bigger in the Himalaya. This glacier on the Tibet (the dry) side of the range is relatively slow moving, almost stagnant in some respects. And it is darn near equatorial, so the mid-day sun can be pretty strong. The penitente here are in place for years and years and get bigger and bigger as they slowly move along... until they come crashing down. My theory, at least, and I'm happy with it, so don't tell me if it is wrong.

At any rate, you won't be walking out in the teeth, stick to the medial moraine, and you'll make good time to the Camp II area at about 19,600'. Camp II is spitting distance from some great "teeth," and there can't be too many climbers who come by that don't think of how much fun it would be to sink a couple of tools and some crampons into one of these clean towers. Nobody does it though. That is part of the Everest game, for sure. There is rarely mental or physical "spare" energy in this game. Say you go swinging up one of these teeth, you hold your ice tools just so (this year's curves please), and you hope your buddy can tilt the camera just right and make you look like Alex Lowe, but the next day, you find you don't have quite enough energy to get your pack to ABC, and perhaps that photo will have to take the place of the summit you hoped for. Either that or we are all just a bit lazy and overlook the fine climbing opportunities in the Everest North Side Area.

— Dave Hahn, International Mountain Guides' Expedition Leader

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