Climbing with Doug Scott on a 5000m peak in 1988. This is an acclimatisation climb above Advance Base Camp with Makalu West Face behind.
At the time I was working as a teacher and the long summer holiday allowed plenty of time for the ascent. Returning to school that autumn, I remember feeling very satisfied and somehow different from the other teachers who had probably been to the seaside. It was not a feeling of superiority, rather a growing understanding of what I wanted to do in life, a dawning realisation that my approach to life was different. My real ambition was to climb more mountains and not to be stuck in a classroom with only weekends and limited holidays in which to fulfil my passion.
In the mid-1980s I resigned from teaching, took up Himalayan climbing and qualified as a British Mountain Guide, an international accreditation coordinated by the International Federation of Mountain Guide Associations. I could now make my living in the mountains, especially the Alps. While Alpine mountaineering is more dangerous than British climbing – there are rock falls, avalanches, crevasses and dramatic electrical storms – I was not deterred; in fact, I wanted more.
Jerzy Kukuczka, the great Polish mountaineer, in Kathmandu,1987. Climbing Shisha Pangma, his final 8000m peak, made him the second person to complete all 14 after Reinhold Messner.
Camping at 8000m on the north side of K2, the exposed ‘Eagle’s Nest’ bivouac on a tiny rocky ledge below the final hanging glacier which leads to the summit. There is a 2500m drop to Base Camp.
By now, I felt that I had served my apprenticeship in the mountains. I was ready for the Greater Ranges. My first forays were to 5000m and 6000m mountains such as Mount Kenya by the Diamond Couloir, Kilimanjaro by the Heim Glacier, Denali (Mount McKinley), the Andes and many 6000m Himalayan peaks. Here I made several first ascents; I also had a few epics and experienced the effects of increasingly high altitudes on my body.
Climbing on the 8000m peaks felt like a natural progression. It just felt right. My initial attempts were on expeditions I had been invited to join – the first two were on Polish expeditions with the legendary 8000m climber Jerzy Kukuczka, Wanda Rutkiewicz and Krzysztof Wielicki, followed by expeditions with Doug Scott, Benoit Chamoux and other well-known Himalayan climbers – although I later organised my own expeditions.
How did I end up climbing 8000m peaks, on which death can come so easily? I had no plan or desire to climb all 14. It hardly seemed a realistic goal when only two people, Kukuczka and Reinhold Messner, had achieved it. I was simply interested in climbing 8000m mountains because I felt they were the ultimate test of resilience, stamina, skill and endurance.
Climbing ‘Alpine-style’ on Makalu at 7500m in a one-piece down suit and duvet jacket, in 1988. Lhotse 8516m, the South Col 7920m and Everest 8848m behind. Strapped to my rucksack is a yellow foam Karrimat to insulate me from the snow when bivvying. The ski poles are to help on easier-angled slopes, and to use as probes to check for hidden crevasses. Trekking poles were not common in 1988 and I set a precedent when I used old ski poles. Most people use purpose-made trekking poles now.
All of the 8000ers are in what is dubbed ‘the death zone’, an unforgiving environment in which your body starts to deteriorate to the point at which you actually start to die. It is not possible for a human being to survive for long beyond a couple of days above 8000m and there are no rescue teams or helicopters to rely on. A helicopter has an operational ceiling of 6500m. Simply surviving takes tremendous effort, both physically and mentally. All water, which you must drink to prevent dehydration and stay alive, is frozen as snow and ice and requires laborious effort melting it on a small stove. Breathing and movement are difficult and slow, sleep is virtually impossible and the cold, often 40 below, will freeze exposed flesh. Frostbite is a real possibility, often leading to the loss of frozen fingers, toes or even limbs.
The black frostbitten toes of a climber I rescued from K2. Subsequently these three toes were amputated.
Between 8000m peak expeditions I was usually in Britain, the Alps or climbing other 6000m and 7000m Himalayan peaks. Working as an International Mountain Guide meant that my world revolved around mountains. Climbing one 8000er, I realised, had been a privilege but I developed an urge to test myself on a few more.
My first sighting of K2 from Concordia in the Karakoram made a great impression on me. I knew that I had to climb that stark, dramatic steep-sided peak, known as the Savage Mountain. My quest for its summit extended over three expeditions; I dedicated, or possibly donated, three years of my life to that mountain. And after filming on the summit of K2, proving I could handle a camera at 8000m, I was then invited on Everest as a cameraman.
Eventually, in 1996, I realised that I had climbed eight 8000ers including the hardest, K2, and the highest, Everest. The following year I decided that, as I was more than half way, I might as well attempt the remaining six. The decision was not as casual as that makes it sound; it was more a gradual dawning that, with tremendous effort and determination, ascending them all would be a worthy and achievable goal.
It is a quantifiable challenge in mountaineering, just as the four-minute mile is a quantifiable challenge in athletics.
From then on I generally organised my own lightweight, Alpine-style expeditions, including several solo climbs. It took me another eight years to summit all 14 of the 8000m peaks. Some I climbed on my first attempt; on others I backed off and tried another year. Just surviving an attempt on an 8000m peak is a success and my view has always been that there is no failure in retreat as the mountain will always be there. I can always return. Geoffrey Winthrop Young wrote in his classic 1920s book Mountain Craft: ‘In climbing mountains, danger is a constant element, not remote as in other sports: it is always with us behind the veil of pleasant circumstances, and it can be upon us before we are aware.’
In the end it took 27 expeditions before I had climbed all 14 and I class them all as successes. Pushing on regardless and getting killed, or suffering severe frostbite that results in amputation, is failure. No mountain is worth a digit and I have so far kept all mine. Many high-altitude mountaineers and 8000m summiteers have had toes or fingers amputated after frostbite. I learnt a lot from Polish climbing friends on some of my early expeditions. Quite a few had toes missing and they encouraged me to look after mine as they wished they had done theirs. It was poignant and salutary advice. Attention to detail is very important when climbing any mountain, rock or ice face, especially if you are to stay alive and avoid frostbite.
At that time, much of my life was spent away on expeditions. An 8000m peak attempt can last three months UK-to-UK; one trip to the remote north side of K2 took five months. Usually I would spend a week in Kathmandu or Islamabad obtaining a permit from the Ministry of Tourism, clearing the expedition cargo through customs, organising equipment, food, porters and generally planning the next several weeks. The trek in to Base Camp often lasts between 10 and 12 days, after which it’s best to spend three weeks acclimatising by climbing higher on the mountain and returning to Base Camp to recover. Once you have acclimatised it may still be two or more weeks’ wait for a clear