"We were now opposite the Chang La (North Col) which joins Mount Everest to Changtse (the North Peak), and from this col was, so far as we were able to judge, the only route to the summit. The way from the glacier up to the Chang La looked steep and unpromising, and we doubted whether it would be possible to take laden coolies up, even to this point." —Charles K. Howard-Bury in Mount Everest, The Reconnaissance 1921

My first view of the North Col, 78 years later, was similar. Coming 'round the northeast ridge of Changtse on my way to Everest Advanced Base Camp, I was suddenly confronted by a sheer wall thrusting upward into the foggy sky. Like a series of waves, broken towers of blue-grey ice were cascading down from the height of the Col onto the glacier below, looking steep and intimidating.

Intimidating? Yes, but still I felt something drawing me towards this elusive goal. So nine days later, on the morning of April 18, I find myself back at Advanced Base Camp (6460m) ready to give it a shot.

For the climb I am wearing fleece trousers and jacket over long thermal underwear, a Gore-Tex© jacket to be protected against the wind, balaclava, sunglasses, mittens, two pairs of socks, plastic double boots, and gaiters. My rack of technical gear includes a harness, ice axe, one ski pole, crampons, one jumar (a device that clips into a rope and can be slid upward, but locks when pulled downward), one tape sling with carabiner (snap link), one figure eight (a braking device that allows to slide down a rope at controlled speed), and some equipment for glacier travel like an ice screw, pulley etc. Eric, our expedition leader, has advised me to go light, so my pack for the trip contains 'just' the bare necessities: down bibs and jacket, an extra pair of gloves, goggles, water bottles, small first-aid kit, miscellaneous items like sunscreen and spare film, a camera, and two lenses.

Leaving Advanced Base Camp (ABC) at 0845 to the good wishes of our film team, Liesl and Ned, it takes me one hour of stiff walking up the right lateral moraine of the East Rongbuk Glacier to get to our equipment dump, where I

					"An Ukrainian climber in front of me stops every few steps, bends over his jumar, and gasps for breath—I must make no better impression. Suddenly he turns around and yells down, 'these are the last 50 meters!' What a relief!"

put on my gear and move onto the ice. The upper part of the glacier is a wide bowl encircled by Everest on the left and Changtse on the right. Its flat floor is almost free of any crevasses, and the steep sidewalls reflect the sunlight like a giant furnace. My view sweeps past the glistening ice walls and over the snowy crest of Everest's North Ridge to the dark-coloured rocks of the mountain's upper slopes—distant as another world yet closer than I had ever imagined I would get to them. Towards the right, amidst the chaotic towers and crevasses, several figures slowly move up the fixed ropes. It's a perfect day for climbing to the North Col, and my mind seems to have totally blocked out any questions of 'what if...?' I'd simply go as far as I can.

At this point it is interesting to compare the choices of routes between then and now. The 1924 Expedition, with their limited expertise and inferior gear, followed a line of least resistance along the easier but avalanche-prone shelves on the right side of the Col. Our expedition, in contrast, chose a route directly up the center of the wall via a system of steep runnels and short cliffs—technically far more difficult but safe.

At 1030, I reach the bundle of equipment marking the start of the fixed ropes. Although I haven't done much climbing on fixed ropes before, the technique is soon second nature to me. While my cramponed feet step up, the right hand pushes up the jumar, which is clipped to the rope and attached to my harness. The left hand meanwhile uses the ice axe or whatever hold is offered by the terrain. For additional safety, I have clipped a carabiner to the rope beneath the jumar, which is also connected to my harness with a tape sling.

An ascending traverse to the right over a smooth ice bulge is the initial pitch. Then I walk back left to the base of the steep central serac barrier from where I do the pre-arranged 1200 radio call. '...Feeling great. Boy, this is fun! I think I go for one hour and contemplate things then.'

A steep runnel (50°-60°) leads up to a comfortable platform in a crevasse at the foot of a ramp on the left side of a broken serac wall. The first three meters are downright vertical so it is very strenuous to get my weight off the rope to push the jumar up and gain height, especially as the ice is glass-hard and won't take the axe as a hold. Above the pitch, the angle relents, and after 40 meters or so I finally arrive at the three ice screw anchor on top of the wall. Slumping down and panting heavily, it takes me a couple of minutes before I am able to register my surroundings: A broad shelf, no need to be clipped into anything, free to walk around. Over to the left a spectacular view opens up diagonally towards the crest of the Col and the North Face of Everest beyond. While on the left you look down on the chaotic jumble of crevasses beneath Changtse.

A snow ramp arches left to the top of another ice wall, where I receive the 1400 call. '...Facing a bit of a dilemma...think I can make the Col in one to two hours but should turn back at 1600 to make it past the steep sections before dark....' Encouraging words from Jake on the Col above and from Eric below at ABC, so I definitely feel I am committed to go all the way.

First the route follows a ledge around the corner to the right, then descends slightly into a dip before climbing up over to two crevasses and a short vertical section at the outermost edge of the cliff. Clambering back left I reach the foot of the headwall, and then it is the longest haul of all jumaring up those final two rope-lengths of steep (45°) and tiring slope.

A Ukrainian climber in front of me stops every few steps, bends over his jumar, and gasps for breath. I must make no better impression. Suddenly he turns around and yells down, 'these are the last 50 meters!'

What a relief! From one moment to another everything seems easy. The slope leans back, the hurting strain in my legs miraculously disappears, and a warm feeling of contentment flows through my body. I unclip from the rope and slowly walk up the final few meters to the top.

It's 1530, and I am standing on the North Col of Mount Everest (7070m). It's a strangely peaceful place, with the tents of Camp IV tucked away

					"On top of the crevasse pitch, I almost get hit by a figure eight whirring past me, dropped by a Chinese soloist following behind. Poor fellow...it's going to be a long way down for him now..."

in the shelter of a huge serac. Behind it, the North Face of Everest rises in all its splendor, the brown and orange rocks almost creating an atmosphere of warmth in the low afternoon light. I recognise all the prominent features: the Pinnacles of the Northeast Shoulder; the First, Second, and Third Steps of the summit ridge; the Great and Hornbein Couloirs—they look so close as if I could reach out with my hands and touch them.

My cries of joy upon arrival did not remain unnoticed. So first Conrad, then Jake and Thom poke their heads out of their tents to greet me. Thom immediately sets up an interview. Then films me and the others walking up to the little knoll above the camp where we have a beautiful view down to the Central Rongbuk Glacier, to the neighbouring peaks of Pumori and Cho Oyu, and down into Nepal. The world at my feet...

After 45 minutes, it is time for me to leave this special place. In the meantime, Tap has arrived from ABC. So I share a drink with him and the others in their cooking tent, listen to the 1600 call, and eventually prepare myself for the descent.

Stepping over the edge I dive into the cold shadows of the East Rongbuk basin below me. One long rappel brings me down the headwall, past Dave, who is also coming up doing a load carry. On top of the crevasse pitch, I almost get hit by a figure-eight whirring past me, dropped by a Chinese soloist following behind. Poor fellow...it's going to be a long way down for him now....

Rapelling in places then using the rope only as a handrail in others, I zigzag down to the top of the steepest section. Thank God I remember the black and white rope leading down without interruption. Nonetheless it is exhausting business at the end of a long day, and I have to stop frequently during the abseil to regain my breath. This becomes even worse in the runnel below, where the line is so stiff that I have to feed it manually through my figure eight to make it down. But eventually comes the last rope over the ice bulge, and I am back at the foot of the wall.

Crossing the frozen mirror of the glacier, my legs feel like jelly. Several times strong gusts force me to stop in my tracks to keep my balance. Right for the 1800 call, I get off the ice at the dump, pack up my gear, and in the approaching twilight, slowly grope my way down the moraine to Advanced Base Camp.

At 1830, I stagger back into camp and drop my pack in front of the mess tent enjoying a few moments of solitude....Then it's congratulations from Ned and Eric: 'Jochen, you pulled it off! We're damn proud of you (a long hug from Liesl).'

That night it takes me ages to fall asleep. Personal ambitions fulfilled, my mind is racing with adrenaline, thoughts about the day's events, and a lot of love and affection for those who are here with me right now...total bliss.

—Jochen Hemmleb, Historian

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