By Molly de Jager
“Never again” – that was my emphatic answer when asked if I would go back to Mt Everest. It was 2015, just days after I’d survived the avalanche that struck Base Camp on 25 April.
Fast forward to 12 May 2021 at 08:20 am, and I stood on the summit of Mt Everest 8848m, the 6th South African woman to do so.
Fortunately, many adventurers, especially high-altitude ones, suffer from some sort of memory loss. We quickly forget the pain, suffering and loss of our last adventure and are soon rearing to go for the next one.
My capacity for suffering, love of mountains and appetite for altitude began in February 2000 when I climbed Kilimanjaro. What started off as a road trip culminated in reaching the highest peak in Africa, and set me off on the quest to climb the 7 summits 10 years later.
I have since climbed:
- Mt Elbrus (2010)
- Aconcagua (2014)
- Denali (2014)
- Carstensz Pyramid (2019)
I am leaving Mt Vinson in Antarctica as the final of the seven summits.
With each mountain, my skills, experience, confidence and accumulation of gear grew, and finishing Mt Everest became my focus, especially after my climbing partner Wilmien van der Merwe became the 4th SA woman to climb Everest in 2017. The stories she shared with me inspired me to go back and reach my goal.
I drew the route out on a large piece of paper, plotting the camps, and making notes alongside. I wrote out EVEREST as my goal on my wheel of life – I’m a large believer in setting goals, and writing them down. I had numerous coffee meetings with adventurer and mountain guide Noel Hanna and our plan in 2020 was to climb from the Northern Side.
Training involved mountain biking (one of my great passions), strength training with weights for the upper body and hiking with a 20kg backpack. Prior to our planned departure in April 2020, I intended to do an 18-hour hike. I invited a couple of friends… “would you like to go hiking with me on the weekend?” was the question. Their answers all changed to a NO when I explained we’d be starting at midnight on the Friday night and go through to Saturday night. Finally one friend, Natasha, agreed and we hiked at the beautiful Rustig farm in Hartebeespoort.
For obvious reasons, the 2020 expedition was called off, and I was pleased to have another year to train. One never feels quite ready to climb Mt Everest. I used lockdown to exercise every day, using my indoor trainer and weights. When we could get back to regular exercise and gym I increased my frequency, intensity, resistance and duration in all disciplines. Upper body and arm strength are important because you spend a lot of time on Everest jumaring up ropes.
Travelling internationally was once again uncertain as 2021 rolled around, and I was mentally preparing myself for the possibility of another Everest season passing by. Noel was on a K2 expedition and returned in February. By the time he returned we were on the same page – thinking that Everest could be a possibility in 2021. Surely the mountain would be quiet we thought. We were wrong as we later found out.
Fortunately, my employer was willing to give me two months off work at short notice, and on 6 April we landed in Kathmandu.
By the time we reached Base Camp, over 400 climbing permits had been issued. The trek in and the lodges were extremely quiet, but over time Base Camp became a mini-city of tents in the relatively small space of glacier that it occupies. Different camps had differing ways of dealing with Covid and unfortunately, I wasn’t allowed to visit fellow South Africans at different expeditions.
Our first rotation through the terrifying Ice Fall and up to the bottom of Camp 3 was over the 26 – 29 April, which I did while suffering with a terrible cough and chest infection. It prevented me from taking more than a few steps before coughing, some deep breathing and moving on. At this point, I was unsure of my own health and strength to carry on.
Read more on Molly’s blog here.
After completing this rotation for acclimatisation, we decided to retreat to warmer climes, the relative luxury of a tea house, and take antibiotics to clear my chest. We dropped down to a tea house in Pheriche, 16 km from Mt Everest, and at about 4300m altitude. Three nights of rest there helped me recuperate and recover before heading back to Base Camp for our summit push.
At 2 am on 8 May we left BC for Camp 2 (6400m) where my coughing resumed, but with less severity than previously. Coughing and hacking was now in stereo – everyone had the famous Khumbu Cough. We rested there for another day and night, to meet up with our Sherpas (Nima and Tshering), and departed C2 for C3 (7300m) in fantastic weather on 10 May, spending our night on oxygen.
11 May found us climbing up into the death zone of Camp 4 (7900m) on the South Col, a desolate, windswept, hostile place. You should only get in and get out of there as quickly as you can. We reached it at 1pm in the afternoon, and after a few hours of rest, departed for summit at 7pm. Climbing through the night was cold, I clapped my hand together frequently, conscious of my fingertips and fearing being a victim of frostbite like those I’d seen come back from their summit attempt earlier that day. Seeing dawn break over the clouds and peaks to my right, and the magnificent shadow of Everest to my left on the morning of the 12 May was a sight I will never forget. I still had the Hillary step ahead of me before reaching summit, and focus was necessary!
At 8:20 am, 20 minutes after walking past a frozen body as a stark reminder of the reality and dangers of what I was doing, Noel, Thsering, Nima and I could claim the summit. It was minus 40 and a wind was starting to blow, so in the 15 minutes we spent there we congratulated one another, took some quick photos and videos and tried to briefly take in the views. There’s no elation, feeling of glory, or even any emotion.
The summit is not like a finish line where you get a medal, a drink and transport back home because it’s all over. No, the summit is only halfway. If you don’t have enough mental and physical strength in reserve, you end up like the corpse you’ve just walked past. So you suck it up, clinging to what resilience you have left, turn around and get back to the relative safety of Camp 4. A fellow climber who we’d become friendly with since Kathmandu, unfortunately didn’t make it back. We later found out he’d died of exhaustion on his return from the summit and went to sleep in the snow somewhere between 8848m and 7900m.
Four hours later, Nima and I reached Camp 4 and the weather was now very changed. Windy, cold, and with poor visibility, as well as fellow injured climbers, we spent another bleak night on oxygen in the death zone.
On 13 May we descended to Camp 2 over a slow nine hours in awful conditions, and then off the mountain back to Base Camp on 14 May. Only then could I release my emotions and claim a successful summit. I burst into tears when a fellow climber at Base Camp embraced me. I cried for those who had died (there were ultimately 2 that died on 12 May), those who had been injured with frostbite, for myself, and out of sheer exhaustion and relief.
I cried out of joy and gratitude as well. I was grateful to have summited and made it back to safety.
I was grateful to be alive and uninjured. I was grateful to reach my goal, number six of the seven summits and becoming the 6th SA woman to climb Everest.
Read more on Molly’s website, Molly and the Mountains or follow her on Instagram.
Pictures: Molly de Jager
