Journal of
Isabel Babel
Entry of
Everest
Day 1
This
is really it! I stand here, at the start of the journey. It took it’s time
and-well…money to come out here, but just imagining the feeling of standing at
the top of the world with my crew is enough for me!
We
had to take two planes, one to Katmandu, and the other to Luka. From here, we
must start our hike to base camp. We here are all excited! Jim’s heating up our
thermoses, Tom is helping put the supplies in our knapsacks. And Mike, well,
he’s mainly giving encouraging comments.
Still, I
can’t help feeling a little vulnerable compared to this massive landform. For
goodness sake, this could be Mount Olympus! And looking at the full view of the
thing even when we’re hundreds of miles away, I can’t help but seem to shrink a
little.
I
better man up. Tomorrow, we start our voyage to base camp.
Day 2
We just
stopped climbing as we saw the outline of base camp. Just climbing this small
distance makes me realize why no animals really care to live here. This weather
is nasty! When we approached the camp Mike had this insane grin on his face. He
urged us to hurry as he sprinted off to the building
Typical
Mike.
Our older
climber, Rick, told him not to venture far without the team. He’s a cranky old
man, but he has more experience in a lock of his curly, gray hair than we have
in our entire bodies.
Jim smiled
his famous ‘Oh-you-guys’ kind of smile as he rushed to catch up. Considering
the fact that Tom was a perfectionist, this wasn’t according to the plan.
Needless to say, he rolled his eyes and led on.
I just had
to grin at the boys. But as they say, boys will be boys. I’m just happy to be
with them. Either none of us go, or all of us do.
Day 3
We said our
prayers today. It’s about a quarter past noon. I find it rather hard to believe
that over 180 people died on Mount Everest. I’m not sure, though, if I was
expecting more or less deaths.
We knelt by
the graves, placing down flowers even though we knew that they would wither.
Even Mike sobered up for the time being.
I cannot
help but shiver at the thought of an icy death. Falling into the crevices as
darkness swallows you whole.
As we
started climbing towards Camp 1, we had to walk athwart these pits about 30
feet across. Let me tell you, it wasn’t fun. Each one of us trusted or lives to
a rusty old ladder. We also had the threat of being crushed by two-ton icicles.
After we
crossed, Mike took a snapshot and cleverly said, “You know, I’ve heard that if
you fall in one of these, you’ll end up on the other side of the world.” Tom
snorted and replied, “Way to lift our spirits, Shutterbug.” Did I mention that
Mike was a famous photographer?
Only a
couple hundred miles to go. No sweat, if you’re a polar bear, that is.
Day 7
It’s
been a while since my last writing. I currently am sitting in the camp right
now, eating soup with the crew. One of our men has frostbite on his thumb.
We…had to amputate it.
I feel
pretty horrible. About a dozen more of our crew, including Jim, now have
hypothermia. We’ve reached camp three so far. Mike insists that we keep moving,
confidently and kindly.
I will have
to put off writing entries for a while until further recovery of the team.
We will
make it to the peak. I know we will.
Day 10
A snowstorm
blew in last night. Worse than any that we’ve seen so far. Contacts were down,
and four of our men were blown away. Things have calmed down a bit now, and the
sun is illuminating through the veils of sleet. We sent a search party out.
Unfortunately,
we couldn’t find anybody. One of them was Rick. He went out last night in the
hopes of finding the lost men. We haven’t seen him since.
Things are
harder than we could have imagined. I hope we can bind together the survivors
and pray to see home in person again.
Day 15
Blinding
and stinging. Even as I write this entry, that’s all I can feel. The rest of me
is numb. An avalanche crashed upon our camp leaving a dozen wounded.
Jim is
coughing up blood from his ribs. Apparently he broke them by coughing. I never
imagined that that was even physically possible!
He and Tom
had been friends for a little more than ten years now. Tom was sitting there by
his side, crying. There was no noise, but I could see it in his eyes.
Jim always
calmed Tom down when his easily aggravated temper burst. The two were
inseparable. Like the constellation Gemini. Tom was probably afraid of him dying.
Quite
frankly, I fear that too. Even Mike has practically given up on the encouraging
speeches. Yet we’re close. So close.
Day 17
WE DID IT!
I write to you from the peak of Mount Everest. I think its strange how for a
dying hopeless moment ago, I could hardly move a muscle. Though my body tells
me not to move, my spirit feels like soaring.
I laid a
Babel memoir, a collection of pictures of my family. I helped Jim set up his.
Mike just keeps repeating the same word, “YES! YES! YES!!!” We all practically
feel like dancing.
Tom
grins at Jim who’s thrown his arm around his shoulders for support. Jim returns
the favor with a “Wooohooo!!!” Tom chuckles and hugs him.
I’m
just taking the moment in. I only wish that the lost members could see this.
Somehow I feel Rick’s presence. And he’s smiling.
Mike
runs over to me, beaming, and gives me the biggest hug humanly possible. My
laughter was muffled as I bury my face into his jacket.
We
did it! And now we can go home. The three boys and me.
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