The West Ridge: Cover to Tom Hornbein's Everest: The West Ridge, 1964 |
What
did the first few summiteers say when they reached the top of Mount Everest?
We barely know, for on the first three
successful attempts between 1953 and 1963, the focus was more on getting mountaineers
up there and back, alive, than fussing over what to speak for posterity.
The Brits were first, in 1953, followed
by the Swiss in 1956, and the Americans in 1963. Here’s what the Brits and the
Americans said and did on top of it all. They appear to have received the bulk
of the press coverage back then.
The 1953 British Mount Everest Expedition
Long after Sir Edmund Hillary and
Tenzing Norgay were the first to summit Everest, Hillary described how elated,
surprised, and satisfied he was with the achievement. They reached the top, close
together, at 11:30 a.m., Friday, May 29, 1953. Though a lot has been written
about those few high moments of long-lasting fame, we have no hint of what
Hillary actually said while standing at the highest point on earth. In his
autobiographical View from the Summit, he
describes how tired they were, moving slowly upward, seeking “rather anxiously
for signs of the summit.” And then, he saw the barren plateau of Tibet in the
distance, and directly in front of him: The Summit.
Afterward, when word of their success
flashed around the world, the international press groused loudly about Hillary claiming
the lead during the few last steps to the top. In his book, however, Hillary carefully
side-steps the fuss. As they approached the snowy dome, he writes, “We drew
closer together as Tenzing brought in the slack on the rope. I continued
cutting a line of steps upwards. Next moment I had moved onto a flattish
exposed area of snow with nothing but space in every direction. Tenzing quickly
joined me and we looked around in wonder. To our immense satisfaction, we
realized we had reached the top of the world!”
How
Tenzing felt and what he said on top is written his autobiography Tiger of the Snows. Tenzing did
something remarkable, shouting out in triumph and thankfulness at the top: “Thuji chey, Chomolungma” — I am grateful, Goddess
Mother of the World!
In that
moment atop the holy of holies, at 29,029 ft., Tenzing Norgay was the highest and
happiest Sherpa in the world.
During
their 15 minutes on top, Hillary photographed Tenzing holding an ice axe with a
small Union Jack and the flags of Nepal, India, and the United Nations tied to
it. But, alas, he forgot the obligatory photo of himself at the summit. No
selfies.
More than anything else uttered that
day on mountain, however, it is what Hillary said to George Lowe, the first
expedition member he met after coming down from the summit, that will
doubtlessly be remembered the longest—“Well, George, we knocked the bastard
off!”
The 1963 American Mount Everest
Expedition
In 1963, six members of the AMEE became
the third set of climbers to reach the peak, and now the search for words spoken
on top takes on a whole new dimension.
On Wednesday, May 1, Jim Whitaker and
Nawang Gombu topped out at 1 p.m., after ascending the same Southeast Ridge route
the Brits had pioneered and the Swiss had followed. In Americans on Everest, the official account, author James Ramsey
Ullman describes the scene:
Jim, in the lead, stopped and waited for Nawang Gombu Sherpa to come up to him. ‘You first,’ he said. ‘No, you,’ said Gombu. Then, the dome being wide enough, they walked side by side to its top. Beyond, everything fell away. And they were there.
Jim recalls
slapping Gombu on the back, that they hugged each other, and how so “very, very
cold” it was that their fingers and toes were numb. With the temperature hovering
around minus 30 degrees Fahrenheit they didn’t tarry, but soon turned and
started back down.
Three weeks later to the day, four more
Americans summitted, in pairs. Barry Bishop and Lute Jerstad ascended the same Southeast
Ridge route, while Tom Hornbein and Willi Unsoeld pioneered the challenging West
Ridge. In his book Everest: The West
Ridge (1964), Hornbein writes that during a brief noontime chat by radio
with Base Camp, Willi described the West Ridge as (abbreviated here):
a real bearcat! ... too damned tough to try to go back ...
too dangerous ... absolutely no rappel points ... nothing to secure a rope to.
Talking into the mike while clinging
precariously to the rock face, he looked down and up and concluded:
it’s up and over for us today ... we’re headed for the
summit.
The West Ridge ascent made
mountaineering history. It had never before been attempted, and never successfully
repeated. And—leave it to the Americans!—everything said in radio chit-chat that
day was recorded for posterity!
Both teams hoped to meet
up on top at midday to celebrate their achievement together, but it didn’t
happen. Instead, according to the summit chronology tersely encapsulated by Hornbein:
May 22: Barry Bishop and Lute Jerstad reach summit of Everest via South Col route at 3:30 p.m. Willi Unsoeld and Tom Hornbein arrive three hours later up the West Ridge, then descend toward South Col. The two parties unite after dark and spend night out at 28,000 feet.
When Barry and Lute found no sign of
the others on top, they started wearily back down toward the South Col. When
Tom and Willi topped out around 6:30 p.m.—dangerously late for anyone on
Everest—they found only fresh boot prints on the summit mound and the tattered,
wind-whipped flag Jim Whitaker had put there on May 1st.
We
felt the lonely beauty of the evening, the immense roaring silence of the wind,
the tenuousness of our tie to all below. There was a hint of fear, not for our
lives, but of a vast unknown which pressed in upon us ...
As oxygen-starved and exhausted as they
were, however, no words could have been spoken as candidly in the moment.
All day long, support team members down
at Advanced Base were scanning the summit through binoculars, and they kept the
walkie-talkie radio on for any action from above. About 5:30 p.m. they caught a
glimpse of Lute and Barry, but they neither saw nor heard from Willi and Tom. It
wasn’t until late, around 7 o’clock,
while Maynard Miller (one of the
expedition scientists) was listening, that quite suddenly—"electrifyingly”—he
later told Ullman for the record:
the radio came alive with Willi Unsoeld’s voice. He and Tom
had just come off the summit, he said. They were a few feet below it. They were
about to descend the Southeast Ridge.
Willi’s words faded in and out of the static and howling wind then drifted back―
Willi’s words faded in and out of the static and howling wind then drifted back―
Faintly,
very faintly. And it seemed to the incredulous Maynard that what he was hearing
from up there was poetry....
Willi was reciting the last lines of
‘Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening’ by the American poet Robert Frost:
'...I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before we sleep,
And miles to go before we sleep.'
“Ever the gentleman, even at 29,000
feet,” writes Ullman, Willi had changed Frost’s original “I sleep” to “we
sleep,” to include Tom; and those “promises to keep” were to his wife Jolene,
that Everest would be his last “big mountain.”
Frost’s ‘Stopping by Woods...’ has been
described as “one of America’s most revered and recited poems,” known for its
“moody pondering of mortality.” Like an elegy.
‘Stopping by Woods on a Snowy
Evening’
Whose
woods these are I think I know.
His
house is in the village, though;
He
will not see me stopping here
To
watch his woods fill up with snow.
My
little horse must think it queer
To
stop without a farmhouse near
He
gives his harness bells a shake
To
ask if there is some mistake.
The
only other sound's the sweep
Of
easy wind and downy flake.
The
woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But
I have promises to keep,
And
miles to go before I sleep,
And
miles to go before I sleep.
(Robert Frost, 1923)
Sometime
later, when Willi lectured about climbing the West Ridge, a member of one
audience suggested either Willi or Tom could just as well have quoted the last
three lines of another Frost poem, ‘The Road Not Taken’:
'...Two
roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I
took the one less traveled by,
And
that has made all the difference.
_______________________________________
Features ³ Issue 210 ³
Chomolungma, ‘Goddess Mother of the World’, is the Sherpa and Tibetan
name for Mount Everest (Sagarmatha in
Nepali). To date, over 4,000 people have reached the top, but few have
done it with the same spirit and style as their earlier predecessors. Books
quoted in this story are Edmund Hillary’s View from the Summit (1999), Tenzing Norgay’s Tiger of the
Snows (1955, written in collaboration with James Ramsey Ullman), Tom
Hornbein’s Everest: The West Ridge (1964), and James Ramsey Ullman’s Americans
on Everest (1964). It was Steve Hendrix who called Frost’s poem a
“moody pondering of mortality” in a January 1, 2019, article in The Washington
Post, entitled ‘Robert Frost Wrote This Masterpiece...’ The two poems quoted
here are Frost’s most popular―all the way to Everest!