Later this year, Grania Willis hopes to take on Everest. Here she shares the diary of one part of her preparation - a climb of Cho Oyu, the sixth-highest peak in the world
Anyone who has ever stood on top of a mountain will know the feeling - that glorious sense of achievement, no matter what the weather has thrown at you on the way up. Euphoria. Freedom. Exhilaration. The size of the mountain is irrelevant. Climbing Carrauntoohil can be just as rewarding as conquering Aconcagua.
So, in the build-up to an attempt on Everest next spring, I decided that my mountaineering CV would be improved by the addition of an 8,000-metre peak. Cho Oyu - the sixth-highest in the world at 8,201 metres - seemed tailor-made, especially as it was the golden jubilee of the first successful ascent of the Tibetan peak.
I signed up with New Zealander Russell Brice's Himalayan Experience at the end of June, even though I knew that I would still be in Athens covering the equestrian events at the Olympics when the rest of the expedition was gathering in Kathmandu. I would meet the rest of the team at Advanced Base Camp (ABC) at 5,800 metres.
ADVANCED BASE CAMP
I and another late-comer, London-based Italian Valerio Massimo, travelled by land from Nepal into Tibet, finally leaving Chinese Base Camp and heading for ABC on September 11th. We were greeted by Mark Inglis, another Kiwi, who lost both his legs 22 years ago after being stranded for a fortnight in storms near the summit of Mount Cook. Mark was aiming to become the first double amputee to summit Cho Oyu.
The rest of the team gave us a great welcome and I immediately felt at home. These 14 people, plus the support team of Sherpas and Tibetans, were my new family for the next month. Our first day at ABC was one of acclimatisation for Valerio and me, and an ordinary rest day for everyone else, so we knuckled down to some serious card playing. Day two involved trying out our oxygen masks and radios before finally, on day three, Valerio and I were allowed out for a spot of ice climbing and a trek to Lake Camp, while the rest of the expedition had another enforced rest day. But the serious stuff began the following day.
Everyone else had already done the dreaded scree slope that goes from Lake Camp up to Camp I (6,400 metres), but Valerio and I were scree slope virgins and, yes, it was as bad as we'd been warned. But we slept brilliantly, charmed all too briefly by the fleeting appearance of the most delicate pink sliver of a new moon.
ICE CLIFF
The following day we undertook the long slog up to the first technical challenge on Cho Oyu, the ice cliff. This 50-metre vertical climb can be avoided by taking on an airy traverse on fixed ropes, but I took it face-on this time, only opting for the traverse on the final summit push.
I was disappointed that I didn't fly up the ice cliff, but the altitude was definitely making its presence felt and I was glad that we were returning to Camp I for the night and then descending to ABC for a rest. The plan was for five days' rest and recuperation, with plenty of Lachhu's fabulous food, before we made the final push on September 22nd, aiming to summit on the 25th.
Deeply religious, the Sherpas won't set foot on the mountain before the puja, a traditional blessing ceremony involving much chanting, burning of juniper, stringing up of prayer flags, and throwing of rice and barley flour. The Himalayan Experience puja had been held while Valerio and I were travelling, so we gate-crashed one of another climbing company on the morning of the 19th.
STALEMATE
Comforted by the presence of our red puja strings round our necks, we felt ready for the mountain, but the mountain wasn't ready for us, and Russell broke the news three days later that plans had been delayed for a further 24 hours. Russell spends a lot on accurate weather forecasting and, while other expeditions were forced back off the mountain by storms, we sat in comfort at ABC playing a waiting game, along with endless hands of cards.
Everyone was going stir-crazy, especially those who had now spent 11 days at ABC. Tensions were relieved somewhat by a monster snowball fight, in which the Sherpas displayed a deadly accuracy.
ON THE UP
Finally, on September 23rd, we were off, heading up the hideous scree slope for one last time. One night at Camp I and then, with crampons strapped on, we were back out, traversing the ice cliff this time and then on up the climb to Camp II at 7,000 metres.
The weather - as predicted - was perfect. Sunny days were followed by bitterly cold nights, but by then we were snuggled cosily in our tents wrapped in layers of down, gazing out at endlessly beautiful views before darkness enveloped the mountain. Melting snow for water took forever. We never knocked the saucepan over when its contents were still solid, only when it could be spilt and we had to start all over again. But we carried on eating and drinking, despite the altitude, although we were helped by the decision to "sleep on oxygen" at Camp II.
From the relative comfort of Camp II, the climb to Camp III looked a piece of cake, but it was much steeper than it appeared and the team rapidly became spread out along the 400-metre ascent. The Sherpas were still erecting the tents when we arrived and most of us were too shattered to even contemplate offering to help. All we could do was sit on the snow and gaze at the mountain's only other technical challenge, the rock band, a sheer face of rock and ice only a few hundred metres away from us and the biggest test for tomorrow, summit day.
SUMMIT DAY
Summit day was actually something of a misnomer. Our alarm call was due for 1.30 a.m. and we were to be on the mountain as soon after 2.30 a.m. as possible. As it turned out, it was probably 3.30 a.m. by the time we left.
By then, Mark Inglis was already on his way back, having abandoned his summit attempt only 100 metres away from camp after a succession of problems. Cocooned in our down suits and with our oxygen masks strapped to our faces, the rest of us were in a silent, narrow world lit only by our head torches. As we focused on the climb ahead, Mark's plight escaped the notice of many, but he would have his day 24 hours later. Today was ours.
As I set off at the back of the group, delayed by a lost glove, I looked up at the line of head torches straggling up the mountain. In the dark it was impossible to tell where the head torches ended and the stars began. But there was no time for poetic observations, so I plodded on, joining the queue at the bottom of the fixed ropes and finally getting to the rock band. Crampons scraped on the rock or clung to the ice as I climbed. I relished the challenge. With that behind me I truly believed that the rest would be a walk in the park. But there was still plenty of steep stuff to come, and I found that my stamina, legendary among my friends, was being sorely tested. I never reached a stage where I couldn't go on, but I had to push myself harder than I've ever had to push before.
With Sherpa Lopsang in close attendance, I trudged on, every step an effort. My dismay was heightened by meeting my team members on their way back down. Their attempts to console me, "it's not far now", "you're nearly there", made it worse. I was usually the one delivering the platitudes. What had gone wrong? Later, I realised that the combination of a fitness-free time in Athens and my accelerated climb to altitude had drained me of energy and I'd hit the wall I had only heard about.
But, finally, there were the prayer flags and behind them the magical view of Everest's north face that only appears when the true summit of Cho Oyu is reached.
It was a truly life-affirming moment. A congratulatory hug from Kiwi guide Lydia Bradey, the first woman to climb Everest solo and without oxygen back in 1988, followed by summit pictures with my miniature tricolour and then the long descent back to Camp II where I collapsed, shattered, into a heap on the snow next toother similarly exhausted team members.
Back in ABC the next afternoon, celebrations were put on hold for 24 hours while we awaited the return of double amputee Mark Inglis, who'd summited on his 45th birthday with cameraman Mark Whetu and Lopsang, climbing oxygenless for the second time in 24 hours and notching up his 10th ascent.
The party lasted all the way back to Kathmandu. A 100 per cent success rate was something to be celebrated. Friendships that will last a lifetime have been forged and my appetite for mountains has been further whetted.
Four of us have pledged to do Everest together this spring, tackling the more technically demanding north face. What greater faith could we place in Russell Brice's capabilities than to volunteer to take on one of the toughest challenges on earth with him? Bring it on!
AT HER FITTEST EVEREST
Training for a major mountaineering expedition varies hugely among climbers, but a high level of fitness is obviously a pre-requisite. Prior to her Cho Oyu attempt, Grania Willis used a personalised version of the elite athletes' fitness programme devised by Trinity College, Dublin, involving the use of a heart rate monitor during strenuous cardiovascular interval training to increase fitness and stamina, both vital at high altitude. In tandem with that, a special weights programme was drawn up for her by the Dublin gym, Riverside Fitness.
The intensity of the training for Everest will be stepped up a notch, with the CV and weights work supplemented by a series of altitude training sessions at Peak Centre Ireland in Dublin, where specialist equipment simulates the reduced oxygen concentration found at extreme altitude. Sponsorship from Peak Centre, one of North America's leading high performance fitness testing facilities, will also include further laboratory assessments to fine-tune a training programme custom-made for pre-Everest workouts.
Australian sports supplement company Musashi, through its Irish supplier David Reilly, is supplying Willis with supplements to assist in her training and recovery and also for use on the mountain, while Polar is providing an outdoor computer watch that monitors heart rate, altitude and barometric pressure, among a host of other high-tech readings.
Grania Willis has spent time training in the Alps with Dublin-born climber Robbie Fenlon, a member of the 1993 Irish Everest expedition that saw Belfast architect Dawson Stelfox become the first Irish climber to summit the 8,848 metre peak. She has also honed her rock-climbing skills with Wicklow-based Jane Carney, a vastly experienced climber and member of the Irish Mountain Rescue Association.
Willis has just returned from a five-day international ice-climbing meet in L'Argentière-la-Bessée, in the Ecrins National Park in France, and is planning an eight-day trip to Scotland next month for Chicks Unleashed, an all-female winter mountaineering week hosted by The Ice Factor, Britain's leading indoor mountain centre. She also hopes to return to the Alps for further training prior to her departure for Everest at the end of March.
Willis is a driven individual, far more likely to over-train than under-train. Lower back and knee problems from steep descents are part and parcel of the mountaineering scene, so regular visits to Aileen MaGuire of Ballsbridge Physiotherapy in Dublin are a vital part of the pre-Everest preparation.
THE $40,000 WOMAN
All mountaineering expeditions are expensive undertakings, but tackling the world's highest is particularly costly. Although it is most expensive to climb Everest from the Nepalese side, with costs often reaching in excess of $65,000 for a climber on a commercial expedition, tackling the more demanding north face from Tibet is slightly less pricey. As part of New Zealander Russell Brice's Himalayan Experience team, Grania Willis faces a bill of $40,000 for the climb alone. That figure covers the climbing permit required before setting foot on the mountain, travel to and from base camp, plus all costs involved in the climb itself. These include payment for yaks used to transport all the gear for the 10-week expedition, the cost of the Sherpa team and cooks, food and tents at the various camps on the mountain itself.
On top of that all that, Willis has to cover the cost of travel to and from Kathmandu (close to €900) and shell out more than €1,100 on special British Mountaineering Council expedition insurance. There's also the expense of kitting herself out for the mountain. Warm, down-filled gear adds substantially to the bills. She has already paid over €10,000 for the Cho Oyu expedition, but is hoping to keep her total expenditure down to somewhere in the region of €50,000 for the two trips.
Willis is hoping to raise €100,000 to be split equally between two charities, the Hospice Foundation and the Friends of St Luke's Hospital, plus a further €50,000 to cover her own costs. Tom McCormack of ConneXions Public Relations in Dublin (01-2303015) is co-ordinating fundraising efforts and will be launching the 2005 Everest charity appeal early next month.