Hillary Family’s Journey To Khumbu Glacier

Press, Volume CVI, Issue 31276, 24 January 1967, Page 17

Hillary Family’s Journey To Khumbu Glacier

(From

SIR EDMUND HILLARY

in Khumjunoi

More than 13 years have passed since Tensing and I stood together on the summit of Mount Everest Early in June, 1953, we left Base Camp on the Khumbu Glacier to start the long walk back to Katmandu. I was thin and gaunt after seven weeks of high altitude effort and I was happy to be heading back to the easier pleasures of home.

Since then the bulky black pyramid of Everest has frequently been framed in the door of my mountain tent—but I have never returned to the Khumbu Glacier and Base Camp.

My three children are now old enough to be enthusiastic campers and walkers, and my desire has grown to take them to see my old stamping ground. By much stretching of the family budget, our journey to Mt Everest has become possible. On December 7 my wife, Louise, and my three children—Peter, aged 11; Sarah, aged 10; and Belinda, aged seven—flew into our tiny mountain airfield at Lukla. With them was the family of Dr. Max Pearl, deputy-leader of the expedition—his wife, Lois, and daughters Ann, aged 14, Lynn, aged 12, and Susan, aged 10. Large Group

The whole party walked for two days up the Dudh Kosi valley to join the Sherpa Hospital Expedition at Khumjung (13,000 feet). With the official opening of the hospital on December 18 the bulk of the expedition work had been completed, so Max and I made our plans to leave for Base Camp. Quite a group of us set out on the first day’s walk to Pangboche village, an hour up the valley from Thyangboche Monastery. There were six children, seven adults, nine Sherpas, 14 porters and two hairy yaks.

The weather was cold but sunny, and the views of Everest and other great peaks were superb. Snow whipping off the high ridges provided the only indication that life in winter above 20,000 feet would

be miserable and hazardous. It was a cold night at Pangboche but, squeezed into small tents, we were comfortable enough inside two sleeping bags.

Our Sherpas woke us early with cups of tea and biscuits, and we started up the valley at 7.30 a.m. The sun was still some distance away and every stream and pool was frozen hard. A cold wind drifted down off the mountain and forced us to snuggle into our jackets of padded down. Solid Ice After two hours of stiff walking we climbed a long hill and swung into the entrance of the Khumbu valley. Another easy half mile brought us to the deserted village of Pheriche—bathed in warm sunshine. Sheltering out of the wind behind rock walls, we ate a substantial breakfast, and I was pleased to note that the altitude of over 14,000 feet did not affect the children’s appetites. Then we carried on to the base of the Khumbu glacier and climbed steeply up for a thousand feet to the lateral moraine on the western side. Most of the recent snowfall had disappeared, but all streams were solid sheets of ice and demanded considerable care when being crossed. At 3 p.m. we walked rather wearily into the summer grazing alp at Lobuje (15,500 feet) and pitched our tents for the night Headaches and nausea—the common complaints of altitude—were already present in both children and adults and there was a heavy demand for aspirin. When the sun dipped behind the mountains at 4 p.m. the temperature dropped in startling fashion and we retired to the only warm place we could find—our sleeping bags. Highest Camp

The third morning was again superbly clear, but it was so cold that we did not move from our tents until the sun had wanned the valley. Then we walked for several miles up easy going beside the glacier and climbed abruptly up on to a huge pile of moraine rock covering a tributary glacier. After a long scramble over loose boulders we reached the far side and looked down into a wide sandy bowl containing a small lake—frozen and shining. This was Gorakshep (16,300 feet) and here

we planned our highest camp. The frozen lake gave the children great entertainment. A few whacks of the iceaxe proved that the ice was about a foot thick and quite safe. Before long everyone was slithering and sliding from side to side in great glee. After lunch the girls were quite happy to stay in camp but the adults plus my son, Peter, set off to climb an 18,000-foot point for a good view of Mt. Everest. A long scramble over loose rock was tedious. I was surprised how much of the route I had forgotten after 13 years.

Everest Plume The last thousand feet was energetic scrambling up good rock, and there was much heavy panting in the thin air. Peter, in particular, was finding out what hard work climbing at high altitudes can be. We emerged on top to a superb view. Towering above our heads was the sombre summit of Everest with snow streaming out in the wind. We could see the South Col (26,000 feet), where I spent three miserable nights in 1953, and the broken turmoil of tite icefall and the Western Cwm. We could even see the North Col of Everest, made famous by the early British expeditions; and the difficult Lho Lha pass with Tibet on which (so our Sherpas said) large numbers of Chinese troops observed all the activities of the Indian Everest Expedition of 1965, with suspicious eyes. The hour we spent on that peak was an exciting experience for us all, and only lengthening shadows made us reluctantly scramble downward to the camp. We were all tired and noticing the effects of altitude by the time we arrived at our tents. By 6 pan., we were in bed with the long Himalayan night ahead of us. i Relics Found i On the fourth morning, we were heavy-headed and lethargic. The weather was still! fine, but vigorous gusts of. cold wind made conditions less pleasant We set off on the long walk up the glacier' to Base Camp. I did not know how well seven-year-old Belinda would handle the altitude, but my fears proved groundless—hand-in-hand with Mingmatsering or Siku she danced her way up the moraine and ice.

Fierce gusts whipped down from the summits and whirled among the tall ice pinnacles. Conditions were a

little miserable, but, with growing excitement, we pushed among the pinnacles and came at 17,000 feet on signs of the early expeditions —rusty tins, bamboo marker poles, old batteries and the like . . . poor relics of some very exciting moments. Looming above us were the tottering pinnacles of the icefall, and an avalanche thundered down off the icecliffs of Nuptse. It was a wild and impressive spot, and in the wintry conditions there was little to attract one to camp there. Chilled by the wind, we started down the glacier

again. Belinda squeezed out a tear or two and said she was tired and cold. At a word from Mingmateering, Siku swung her up on to his broad back, and went down the glacier at a half trot, with Belinda smiling her delight. Gusty Night Half a mile later she had completely recovered and was dashing down the glacier clinging firmly to the flying Siku’s hand. That was the last we saw of her until we tramped tiredly into camp. The wind came into camp I with us and sent twisting spirals of frozen dust high!

over the lake. Our tents flapping and billowed all through the long night and we were glad we were departing next day. We left in the hard cold -before the sun was up, and even the tough Sherpas were glad of all their clothing. Our spirits rose as the sun warmed us and our energy increased with every drop in altitude. We breakfasted enthusiastically at the terminal face of the glacier and then pushed on with determination toward Thyangboche—a long walk away. We were tiring as we I reached Pangoboche, but had a late lunch in the warm sun twhile the village elders plied us with chung and rakshi and gently mentioned their need for a new roof on their ancient Gompa—the oldest monastery in the Khumbu area. We expended our last

energy climbing up the shaded snowy slopes to Thyangboche Monastery, and Belinda’s hand was dragging a little in mine. Carols Sung The Head Lama welcomed us in his beautifully decorated room and gave us food and drink. As we walked back to the monastery guest house we could see Mt. Everest sharp and clear in the bright moon-light, and noticed fierce wind clouds racing across the sky. It was Christmas Eve . . . and the children huddled around the fire singing Christmas carols before being sent, tired and uncomplaining, off to bed. The photograph shows Sir Edmjind Hillary and Peter among ice pinnacles near the base camp.