weeks earlier, that actually took place on New Year’s Day on the far north coast of
Scotland, I was somewhat ‘briefly’ having my annual New Year’s dip in the wild surf of the North Atlantic. As I emerged, clutching my wedding equipment that by now was looking as
if it might never return to its former self, there stood a beautiful, well wrapped-up girl with hair blowing in the wind.
‘Ah, sorry about this,’ I muttered as I hopped around on one leg, trying to put my trousers back on, before falling over on the seaweed. ‘I can explain everything.’
I’m not quite sure what happened after that, but the girl on the beach, very bravely, became my girlfriend.
Our relationship wasn’t exactly of the ‘regular’ variety, and Shara was thrown into the chaos of the final few months of preparation for an Everest expedition. They always say
that if you want to terminate a relationship, then take up Himalayan climbing. Well I’d just started one, and it was good – I didn’t in the least want it to end. I wanted to
believe in ‘if it’s meant to be, then it will be’, but when there’s a lot to lose, such a motto is really hard to trust. My fears were beginning to show. Keeping everything
crossed, I then disappeared for three months and found it a miracle that she was still there on my return. From now on I’ll always swim on New Year’s Day.
Our planned departure date was 27 February 1998, and that time was fast approaching. Because our team was relatively small, we had arranged to link up with a larger team who
were also to be climbing on Everest. The aim was to benefit from the logistical ease of a larger group, whilst still enabling us to maintain the autonomy of a small, close-knit unit.
This larger expedition was being led by Henry Todd, a very well-known Scottish climber with huge experience and skill. It was with him that I had climbed on Ama Dablam, some months earlier.
Rather like the Nepalese load-bearing yaks, Henry is huge, shaggy and matted, but in his case, somewhat better looking. We had been extremely lucky to have been able to join Henry’s team, and
without doubt were in the most capable hands around today.
The plan was that we would be climbing on the Nepalese side – the South-East Ridge. This was the original face that Hillary and Tensing climbed, and in the less than inspiring words of
Kurt Diemberger, the famous high-altitude climber, ‘this will always be one of the most dangerous routes.’ Of the total 162 deaths on Everest, 101 of those have occurred here – on
the Nepalese side.
The climb would lead us up from Base Camp into what is known as the Khumbu Icefall, a tumbling cascade of ice 2,500 feet high, that guards the way up to the first camp, Camp One. From here, the
route follows along the crevasse ridden Western Cwm Glacier to Camp Two. The route then goes to the end of the Cwm, over the Bergschrund ice bulge, and then up the sheer ice walls of the Lhotse
Face to Camp Three, 3,300 feet higher still. The climb then traverses the ice over the Geneva Spur, and then rises up to the South Col, Camp Four, our last camp.
From here the summit would be attempted in one final push. The route leads to the Balcony Ledge, and then up the South-East Ridge to the South Summit. Once over this and the famous Hillary Step
ice-wall, the summit lies 200 metres ahead. We planned it would take about seven weeks of climbing to reach – if all went smoothly.
The first ascent by Hillary and Tensing had used nine camps during their climb. We were to use only four. The planning even at this stage, especially by Henry, was meticulous. Strategy and the
effective allocation of resources is crucial in any attempt, and the four of us studied the maps and books like hungry students.
Henry was dealing with all the logistical side of the expedition, such as arranging the oxygen, the portage to Base Camp, the food, and more importantly, the Sherpas. The Sherpas, who are the
local