Ten years after the EVERESTMAX team completed a world first, expedition leader Dom Faulkner reflects on their achievement. Dom's book 'The Longest Climb' offers a full account of the expedition. The book was shortlisted for the Boardman Tasker prize in 2007.
This article was published in SYTAdventure Magazine in New Zealand.
I'm always curious when people say they've climbed a mountain. What do they mean exactly and from where did they start? It seems to me that we're very quick to quote the height of a summit above sea level but when it comes to climbing it from that same reference we're not quite so keen. On the North side of Mt Everest climbers will arrive in air conditioned Landcruisers to basecamp at 5000m. Obviously the challenging climbing is still to come but you can't deny that half the mountain has already been ascended. My view might be that of the purist, but it was this idealism that led to me standing on the shores of the Dead Sea just over ten years ago. Actually our small team of five had decided that even sea level wasn't enough, we simply had to go to the lowest point on the Earth's surface. So here we were some 420m below sea level - our aim to make the first full ascent of Everest - a total climb of 9280m.
I had been planning the expedition for several years since an earlier attempt on the mountain had partially blinded me with high altitude retinal haemmorages. I was forced to retire and learn a painful lesson about the perils of climbing at these heights. Finding a team for this new venture hadn't been easy and although my new found colleagues shared my determination to carry it through we were very inexperienced indeed. Jamie and Sarah, the two youngest members of the team had never even been to the Himalayas, let alone Everest. However, the mountain seemed a very long way off as we lined up with the back wheels of our bicycles dipped into the salty water. Ahead of us lay a gruelling 8000km cycle journey through some of the world's most challenging terrain and politics. I wasn't alone in thinking that if we even made it to the mountain we would have done pretty well.
It only took us two days to get out of Jordan but even that wasn't easy. A 1200m ascent the first day was a brutal way to start, not helped by having to dodge the stone throwing efforts of the local children. We were soon crossing the border into Syria, something that would be unthinkable now. It saddens me to wonder what happened to all the kindness we encountered in this beautiful country, although even ten years ago it was obvious that its people were under duress. There was an undeniable tension everywhere we went, from the nervous hotel owners to the twitchy waiters in restaurants. This is the fear that a cruel dictatorship imposes and it was my greatest wish that Syria was about to make a change for the better. Sadly I was wrong and I think now I will be lucky to visit again in my lifetime. We crossed the empty desert of the north, witnessing the majesty of Palmyra, formerly the eastern edge of the Roman empire and now controlled by ISIS. At the oasis town of Deir Ezzor we came to the first of our major rivers, the Euphrates. Soon after we were picked up by the security police. They allowed us to continue but shadowed us all the way as we cycled the remaining three days to the Turkish border.
The arrival of the first mountains in remote eastern Turkey were a cruel wake up call. Where only a week earlier we had been in desert, the temperature plummeted and we found ourselves battling ice and driving winds as we crossed the Tigris. Just south of Mt Ararat we crossed into Iran and although the fierce weather continued we at last turned to the south. Iranian roads were well made and we started to push out the miles; just as well as we had just twenty eight days to cross a country five times the size of France. Everywhere we stopped in Iran we were assured of a warm welcome and offers of food and a bed for the night. Of all the countries en route this was the most welcoming. I will be sure to return and with Iran finally opening up there are a wealth of travel opportunities.
With mere hours left on our visa we crossed into a very tense Pakistan. The cities were in turmoil after the Danish press had published cartoons mocking Mohammed. With our safety at risk we raced across the Baluchistan desert just a few kilometres south of Helmand, where fierce fighting was taking place against the Taliban. It wasn't just politics that Pakistan threw at us. Our tent was flooded out, we were hit by a desert sandstorm and then arrested for coming to close to a nuclear facility. That aside the Pakistani officials were committed to our cause and despite every obstacle there was always help at hand. Depressingly we crossed the Indus river just 50m above sea level before entering India at the holy city of Amritsar and the Sikh Golden temple. Here the frenetic pace seemed to melt away and we all visibly relaxed knowing that the complex politics of the Islamic world was now behind us.
On expeditions of this length the next problem is never far away. In India it was the traffic. With small roads and little care for cyclists we played a dangerous game, all too aware that the simplest of accidents could bring a premature end to the expedition. With so little ascent to our credit after several thousand kilometres we knew there was a sting in the tail. It began after crossing the Ganges and in the beautiful forested foothills of Nepal and as we climbed relentlessly winding our way through beautiful landscapes towards the border with Tibet. Here the gradient increased mercilessly and before long we found ourselves cycling at 5000m across the Tibetan plateau. After three months our fitness wasn't in doubt but we had also grown complacent. In Tibet our mileage was less than a third of what we had achieved at lower altitudes. Angry dust laden winds blighted our progress and we finally collapsed into basecamp we were already low on reserves and utterly exhausted.
Although we were on one long expedition it felt like a second one was beginning. There was little time to switch focus but with additional team members joining us from the UK their infectious enthusiasm helped to lift our spirits. Within a few days we began the agonising first walk up to ABC (Advanced Basecamp) at 6400m, a total distance of 22km. A train of yaks carried our gear for the higher altitudes as we struggled for every breath and made pitiful progress. The North side of Everest is a massive exercise in stamina. We made this walk several times as each foray onto the mountain necessitated retreating all the way back to basecamp at 5100m. It was only at this lower altitude that we stood any chance of finding an appetite and rebuilding our strength. With the help of our three Sherpas it took six weeks to establish three camps on the mountain, the highest at 8000m and the edge of the Death Zone. We then played a waiting game while the jet stream winds continued to batter the summit. Worse was to come. Although there was no collective tragedy 2006 was to go down as one of the most deadly on Everest. At least 13 climbers died, many of them on our side of the mountain including the well documented case of Briton David Sharpe who died alone on the North Ridge.
When our turn came for a summit bid I was accompanied by Jamie and Sarah who had been with me since the Dead Sea. We were joined by team Doctor, Andrew Sutherland. Our small team of four was soon met with setbacks. Just below the North Col we found stranded Canadian climber Vince Waters. His rescue cost us dear in terms of oxygen supplies let alone energy. Then came the news we had been dreading. A colleague of ours, French climber Jacques Letrange had reached the top but perished just below the summit as he began his descent. His wife Caroline had been in ABC awaiting his return. On the radio Caroline asked that if we found Jacque's body we might try and retrieve his wedding ring which he wore round his neck.
It was a surreal close to a journey that had lasted six months. I had begun with visions of completing a first and standing on the summit triumphant - a competitive approach that I now see as naive. In some ways it was fitting that the last few days of the expedition were cruel emotionally. I was reminded that there was no pride to be be taken in ascending a mountain, irrespective of the journey there. Jacques was a better and more experienced climber than myself and he was as unlucky as I was lucky. When I stood on the summit on the 21st may 2006 and completed the journey I found myself choking back tears - tears of relief, confusion, sadness and happiness, a heady blend that remains with me to this day.
Dom, Jamie and Andrew made the summit and retrieved Jacque's wedding ring from his body. Sarah and Nic didn't make it to the summit but Pauline did with her husband. Gerry Winkler, an Austrian climber also completed the Longest Climb the same season. Together with the three members of Everestmax they are the only four people to have made the journey to this day.