The East Rongbuk glacier spread out below me like a geography lesson. Around most of the horizon I could look over the top of some of the highest mountains in the world, and on into the haze that masked Nepal and Tibet.

Yet even at that altitude there still rose behind me another 3,000 feet of black, snow-veined rock that was the huge lump of Everest that I had not yet climbed. I was at 25,500 feet, quite pleased with myself, but still with a long way to go to the summit of Everest.

I reached this point at 4 p.m. and the weather, as it usually did, was getting worse as the day wore on. On this day I had carried a few pounds of cooking gear and food up to a ledge in the rocks. We already had a tent stashed there, and it would have been nice to have cleared a platform among the rocks and set up camp.

But I was by myself, it was getting late and the weather forecast for the next few days was not good, so there wasn’t much point in my staying here or even putting up the tent just to have it blown down. Besides, Everest has this intimidating habit of making you feel very small and lonely.

I must have suspected that I wouldn’t get any higher than this spot as I picked up several small stones, thought of Frank and took pictures of a Team Karma pennant. I had climbed strongly to this point after a late start from Camp 1 on the North Col, 2,500 feet below.

My new plan was to set out earlier the next day, not carry a load and see how high I could get. The next morning when I set out, it was very windy and I didn’t feel as if I had any energy. Since I was, at the time, a team of one, I went back to the tent and made a cup of hot tea: Actually I didn’t even do that.

Tea with ‘Andy Warhol’
I went to the tent of a Polish climber from our group and he made the tea! Andy the Pole, he was actually Przemyslaw Orcholski which in his pronunciation sounded like Warhol, so he was quickly given the nickname "Andy," made lunch and several cups of tea and I expected to feel strong and ready to go the next morning.

The next morning I woke before dawn and got ready in the desperate cold. Breakfast was muesli and Top Ramen. I left soon after it got light, but it seemed that the day of rest just didn’t regenerate my energy. Even using some of my copious supply of oxygen didn’t give me any energy. Perhaps what they say is true--you just cannot recover at altitude.

I kept moving upward, one slow step at a time. But before I reached camp 2 at 25,000 feet, I realized that I wasn’t going to surpass my previous high point, even with an earlier start and a lighter backpack. I turned around and descended to Camp 1 and then Advanced Base Camp. It was May 21, and the weather forecast predicted high winds until the 26th. I knew I was done for.

Rendezvous with Adrian Jr.
The next day I heard that my nephew, Adrian Jr., who had come out to see Tibet and meet me after the climb, had left Base Camp for the two-day hike to Advanced Base. I left late in the day and hiked quickly down to what is called "mid-camp," a rubble-strewn area on the glacier where people spend the night on the way to Advanced Base.

I arrived at dusk and worried that I might not find the tent where Adrian was staying as people camp all over the area. I stopped at the first tent, which was a large old tent belonging to some Yak herders.

I asked the yak herders if they knew where a group called "Monterosa" might be camped. When I said Monterosa, a voice from inside the tent shouted, "Adrian, is that you?" My nephew, Adrian Jr., Ganesh, who owned the trekking company and Ram, our group leader, were all in the tent.

I joyfully joined them in time for a dinner of noodles. That evening, Adrian and I caught up on family news, and I showed a few Everest pictures from my digital camera while he showed some video from his brother’s recent wedding.

As it happened, Ganesh had altitude sickness. So the next morning, he and Ram descended to base while I was able to escort Adrian Jr. to Advanced Base Camp, which had been his aim.

After an overnight stay at ABC, Adrian and I hiked down to Base Camp. It was May 24. The expedition was scheduled to leave base Camp on the 27th but Adrian and I had other plans.

The Tour de Everest
Adrian and his mother (my sister--are you following this?) had brought two bicycles with them from England. Now, these weren’t modern, full-suspension, carbon fiber affairs. No, these were steel, no-suspension bicycles that I doubted would hold together for 10 miles on Tibetan dirt roads.

When they brought the bikes across the border from Nepal into China, they had immediately befriended the Chinese expedition liaison officer, Li Ruihua, who had saved them from paying any import taxes.

Mr. Li, as he was known, had traveled back to base camp with them, and Adrian Jr. was now on the best of terms with him. This was most useful as Mr Li had the authority to allow or deny us permission to ride back to the border through Tibet. When I had asked Adrian and Barbara (my sister) to bring bicycles with them, it was because I wanted to go from the summit of Everest to the ocean under my own power.

Now that I had failed to summit, Adrian Jr. and I decided that a ride to the border, 250 kilometers and three days away, would be enough fun. Befriending Mr. Li had solved the biggest problem—that of getting permission.

On the 25th, the morning after we arrived at base camp, we set off on the bicycles. The rest of our expedition would be leaving in Toyota Landcruisers on the 27th hoping to make it to the border in one day. Mr. Li had said that when the Landcruisers caught us, we would have to pack our bicycles and climb in. We left with a sense of urgency, the hunter and the hunted; we had to make good time to reach the border before the Landcrusisers.

A ‘virtual treasure hunt’
On the first day we hoped to reach the town of Tingri. It was the only real town before the border. It was only 80K, but the road was the whole way, rough, rocky and sandy. It also crossed a 17,000-foot pass. We didn’t have any maps, but my sister had made cryptic notes on the way in. So Adrian and I indulged in a virtual treasure hunt as we tried to interpret the clues that would keep us on the correct route.

Adrian Jr. and I pedaled hard all day, but as dusk fell in a sandstorm we still had not seen any sign of the town. We followed a track by the light of our flashlights until we came to a village. We were welcomed into the village monastery and given some hot water to drink, but it seemed that we might not be able to sleep there.

A villager who had come to watch these strangers beckoned us to come with him and took us to his own house, where he and his family graciously looked after us that night.

In the light of the next morning, we could see the town 5K away across the plain. Tibetan towns don’t have street lights, which explains why we could not see it the night before. We cycled out of Tingri on the main road to Nepal; the main road is sandy and rocky.

Adrian Jr. realized that we have lost the tool kit and puncture repair outfit; if we had one mechanical failure or even a flat tire, we would have had to sit by the road and wait for the Landcruisers. We hitched a ride on a horse-drawn cart for 5K, which was a lot of fun but slower than cycling. At 3 p.m., we stopped at a teahouse. The wind had been blowing hard into our faces since 11 a.m., making even flat roads a low- gear nightmare.

We were so tired that we didn’t leave the teahouse that afternoon. We slept there and woke at 5 a.m., hoping to gain some hours free from the headwind. We chose our teahouse well—it turned out to be the last one before the 17,000-foot pass that marked the highest point of the route to Nepal.

Spring breezes, Tibet style
We spent the morning grinding up the road to the summit of the pass. We were sure that once over the pass, we would have an easy downhill ride to the border and be able to stay ahead of the Landcruisers that we expected would catch us any minute.

The headwind had different ideas, and we ended up having to pedal hard even on the downhill stretches as the wind howled and blasted us with sand.

By 2:30 p.m., we had reached the small town of Nyelam and left a note in a hotel lobby as agreed. Our note read: “Arrived Nyelam 2:30 left at 3 p.m., Adrian and Adrian.” Adrian Jr. suggested we just drink a soda and get out of town; which we did.

It was only 30K to the border, and it was all downhill. We had lost enough altitude that the wind was no longer strong enough to hold us back. A half hour after leaving Nyelam, the Landcruisers caught us.

"We arrived in Nyelam before you said you had left," they exclaim. With only 15K of downhill road to the border, Mr. Li was happy to let us keep riding. He had negotiated to purchase one of the bicycles and probably wanted to see us finish the ride.

When we arrived in the border town of Zhangmu, Mr. Li was there to claim his bicycle. We had a good dinner of, what else, Chinese food. Everest lay far behind and I had only memories.

Everest is still sinking in
Tibet and Everest provided a wonderful experience that I cannot yet put in perspective. Everest has a strong hold on the emotions of not just mountaineers but of everyone who strives for extremes. It has been wonderful to feel the support and enthusiasm that everyone has had for this project.

Soon after I returned, I found a quote--"In each of us there are places we have never gone. Only by pressing the limits do you ever find them" from Dr. Joyce Brothers. It seems to have much truth in it.

Thanks to you all. And remember that whatever the outcome, as Frank said, "It’s the journey."

These reports are based on conversations Adrian Crane has had with his wife, Karen, who is in Modesto.

MODESTO, CALIF--May 25, 2005--I talked to Adrian the other day, and he made it to 25,000. Then due to weather and time, he decided he could not stay any longer as it might be a week or two before the weather got better. He's on his way back down the mountain.

There was one person who did summit over the weekend. But if you go to Everestnews.com, you will see so many other groups who are still waiting for the weather to get better to try, it makes you wonder how safe it is.

Adrian's met up with his nephew (little) Adrian, and they are working on cycling down from base camp.

So given the fact he wanted to see his family and keep his job, he should be home in about six days.
--Karen Crane

MODESTO, CALIF--May 14, 2005--I talked to Adrian the other night. He sounded great, said everything was going well.

Marnie, the other team member, has left and returned home, sounds like she had altitude sickness.

Adrian was at 23,000 and feeling great. Not sure whether they would be able to summit due to time and weather, but he said he is going to keep going.

He was going to discuss with Humphrey (the last team member) on what their chances were to summit. I am just glad that he is feeling good and that he is going to keep going up the mountain.

Adrian’s sister Bar and her son Adrian are now in Katmandu and on their way to base camp to meet up with Adrian when he comes down on May 19(or there abouts).

She e-mailed and said that there are about 1,000 climbers on the mountain at this time (on the Tibet side), so even though Adrian team of four is now two, there are plenty of climbers on the mountain with them.

So we keep our fingers crossed and our prayers going and hope that they are able to keep going.
--Karen Crane


MODESTO, CALIF--May 4, 2005--I talked to Adrian last night, he is back up at 21,000 and not sounding so great. He is still not feeling good.

The fact that he went from 17,000 three days ago to 21,000 means that at least he’s moving in the right direction.

I think the fact that he has felt bad for more than a week has gotten to him.

I gave him news that everyone is asking about him and praying that he is OK, and that may give him a little encouragement.

I feel bad for him and hope that he is feeling better soon.
--Karen Crane


KATMANDU, NEPAL--Monday evening, March 28, 10:30 p.m.--Arrived on Sunday, March 27, at 1:30 p.m.

Kathmandu is as I remember from years before. The tiny winding streets of the Tamil district are crowded with people, bicycles and cars while colorful pennants line the buildings that lean in from each side.

Climbing equipment is readily available. Within 24 hours, we have completed our preparations and bought food supplies for the seven-week expedition.

This evening, looking for a friend of mine, I visited the Yak and Yeti Hotel, one of the better establishments in town. I hailed a rickshaw for the short ride.

The rider took me along dark, deserted streets that were still shining from a a recent thundershower. At every one of the many large potholes and poorly repaired trenches, he would slow the rickshaw and be forced to strain mightily at the pedals to get us moving again, dipping his left shoulder as he did..

As we approached the Yak and Yeti, he motioned for me to choose one of several driveways into a magnificent group of buildings. Unsure where I should be, I indicated one well-lit entrance.

The driver pulled up and let me down. For the equivalent of 60 cents, he had strained to pedal me across town. I took pity on him and proffered $1. He reached for his change and grinned mightily when I waved him away. I turned and walked through the doors into an elegant casino the equal of any in Nevada. We will leave tomorrow at dawn to drive to the Tibet border.
--Adrian Crane

To contact Crane, e-mail him at info@teamkarma.com.

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