Everybody Goes Home...

I don't even know where to begin. The last four days have been a blur. Multiple 4:30am wake ups for all day missions. Guess I'll start at the last calm evening. 

The final week of the Everest season typically provides a fair bit of high mountain drama and this year has been no different. 

Hundreds of people all move up into position to summit around the same time. This is due to the weather window being fairly narrow and if you miss it, you're either stuck in screaming winds and cold or you call it and come home with no summit. Many teams feel this pressure and all line up at the same time to hit that precious week of low winds. 

A number of folks get in trouble and many of them don't have the moxie or the assistance of a world class guide to get down alive. Crowding, wind, cold and inexperience all play a big part in creating a total shitshow. This what we encountered the last few days. 

The weather forecast for the night of the 17th showed very high winds so we assumed that all the teams would see the same thing we did and delay arriving on the exposed South Col (Camp 4 @ 26,000ft) till the next day. Turns out, several teams went anyway. 

And this is when the wheels started falling off. 

The next day we began receiving reports of 24+ hr summit attempts, frostbite, exposure and severe altitude illness. We were hearing that clients and a few Sherpa guides were scattered and stranded above high camp and in big trouble. Many of those that did get down to the relative safety of Camp 4 began tearing through other teams' supplemental oxygen cylinders. Obviously this is a shitty thing to do and in my opinion, is not only worthy of an ass whooping, it's grounds for criminal charges. Stealing supplemental oxygen from climbers that are expecting it to be in place for their upcoming ascent or for use in emergencies is about as low as one can go in the world of mountain karma. It has happened before and sadly will happen again. 

We were hearing that Chinese, Indian and UAE teams were reporting several of their members were either broke off completely and requiring assistance or, in a few cases, unaccounted for. Anticipating such a setting, we had arranged for our stud Sherpa team to be in place at Camp 4 the next day to help clean up the mess and help evac climbers in need. Once the rescue request was made, our guys activated quickly. We got confirmation that an Indian woman and her Sherpa guide were "stuck" just below the south summit (28,500ft). At the same time that call came in, Lakpa and Nima Dorje were tending to a sick American climber that was the client of a fairly large operator on the mountain. They worked alongside the guide to nurse this fellow back to health and ultimately helped in lowering him all the way down to Camp 2. 

So that left Mingma and Nima Ninja to head up from Camp 4 to locate the Indian woman and her guide. For all intents and purposes they were essentially on the moon... and our guys would be their only chance of survival. 

It was 8pm and -20F. 

The next morning we woke to hear that our guys had found the 2 stranded climbers at just above 28,000ft. They were out of oxygen and water. Our guys provided them hot drinks and then, because of the disparity of extra oxygen cylinders, provided them their own personal oxygen masks. 

Talk about selfless. 

The woman was barely able to bear weight and required over five hours of labor intensive "short roping" down to Camp 4. Essentially they lowered her 2,000 ft down a snow slope with the occasional rock feature. 

At the same time these events were unfolding, we were getting word that a young Dutch male had died at Camp 4 after returning from the summit. There are plenty of news outlets reporting extensively on his plight so I'll just add that his sudden deterioration was another source of confusion and tension in the flow of communication between the players at Camp 4, Basecamp and Lukla. 

That morning I hopped in Andrews stripped down Dynasty bird and we headed to EBC knowing that we were about to have a massive day of evacs and full blown rescues. One by one, Andrew landed at Camp 2, loaded up a single patient and dropped them with me at EBC. Twelve round trips later we had evac'd a ruptured Achilles' tendon, 4 deep tissue frostbite cases, 2 altitude illnesses and our 4 bad ass Sherpas. 

At that point it was noon and the weather was starting to deteriorate so we flew back down the valley to Lukla with the most critical of our lot. The remaining evacs were ferried down by other helos and the most in need of acute frostbite care were ultimately flown down to Kathmandu.

That evening as we are eating supper, discussing the day's events as well as what the next day might look like, we begin hearing the storyline of an Australian female climber who was in the middle of a full blown epic above Camp 4 with multiple Sherpas attempting to bring her down. I received a call from Gordo at Basecamp around 8pm requesting medical advice to pass along to the team that was trying to stabilize this woman. It sounded like she was quite ill but had a solid support staff tending to her. We discussed a plan that was to be passed on to Camp 4 and agreed to communicate throughout the night should her condition worsen. 

Around 5am the next morning I got an update that she had made it through the night, was speaking and the rescue team was very shortly going to begin assisting her down the mountain. 

We had several more evacs to clear from EBC that day so Chris and I stripped the seats from Kilo Bravo and headed up towards EBC. As we turned up above Pheriche, we ran into a wall of wind and snow that bounced us around enough to where Chris called it and we headed back to Lukla to wait it out. The weather in this valley is unquestionably the most fickle and unpredictable as anywhere in the world. We hoped to wait out the weather and go rescue this woman either later that day or perhaps the next morning once the Sherpa team delivered her to Camp 2. 

As we sat in the teahouse waiting for the clouds to clear, we got word that the female climber had died during the descent to Camp 3. The effort to get her down that terrain was superhuman. I'm confident that everyone involved did everything they could to save her life.
I had never met this woman, but her survival meant a great deal to me. I wanted so badly to help load her on the chopper and take her down to Kathmandu. I visualized it the night before. But it just wouldn't be the case. Once again, countless media sources have provided commentary about the death of this young woman. I've got nothing more to add. 

The next day we heard that our Sherpa team had just arrived into Camp 2 with the Indian woman they had rescued from just below the south summit. It was time to go pick her up. An hour later, Chris and I had Kilo Bravo stripped down and ready for the trip to Camp 2. As this was Chris' first landing at C2, we decided to drop me at EBC so he could navigate the tricky terrain with the absolute lightest helo possible. I watched as he crested over the icefall out of sight into the western cwm in very shitty conditions. Five minutes later he came over the radio telling me he was on his way down with a fairly critical patient.
I hopped in the bird with Chris and finally laid eyes on the Indian woman. She was not well. Shallow respirations, thready pulse, sluggish pupils and lower extremity cold injuries. Sick.
We lifted off from EBC weighted down and booked it straight to the Lukla hospital. We stabilized her and ultimately shipped her down to KTM to address her frostbite therapy. She'll live to fight another day. 

I didn't know it at the time, but that would be the final rescue of the season for us. The few remaining climbers descended without issue and we went straight into beer drinking mode. 

It's gonna take me awhile to process this two month experience. I'll have to reflect on it and I'm sure I'll write a bit more. 

For now... I turn my attention to putting a bow on it. It's time to go home. To my family.
‪#‎beofservice‬
Namaste. 

Will The Real Civilized Culture Please Stand Up

Just returning from a month of globetrotting to various remote corners of the world, mixing mostly work with a little bit of play. I’m grateful to all of the good people that I was fortunate enough to share time with scampering around some wonderfully inspiring alpine settings.  I never tire of witnessing my clients/friends embrace the beauty and challenge of movement through mountainous terrain and interfacing with the hardy local folks.

This month was truly another wonderful collection of vivid memories and images of local villages and homes speckled on the flanks of mountains and hills on 2 different continents. The simple life that appears before us as we tramp through some of the more secluded regions seems so rudimentary to most of us… with their lack of running water, cell phones and grocery stores. It’s easy to look across the valley at one of the thatch roofed homes with sheep and goats milling about and feel a bit of despondency for the inhabitants at how tough their life must be.  

“It must be so hard to live in such a primal way. Bless their hearts.”

And then, if you’re lucky, you have a face-to-face encounter with one of the locals. You see the wide smiles and note the sense of comfort in their eyes. You feel that they need very little to be happy. Food, shelter and family. Undoubtedly they experience pain and sorrow due to disease, crop failure and lack of health care, but they exude this sense of being satisfied with what they have in front of them.

On the second leg of my work month I was in Peru with a wonderful group of Gold Star women (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Service_flag) that are the living, breathing definition of resiliency. Recounting the characteristics of these amazing women and their fortitude is another story entirely.  One of these women has been sponsoring a Peruvian child for several years and decided she would try to meet the child and his family while visiting the Cusco region on our adventure. After many phone calls and much effort from her and the sponsor agency, the meeting was arranged. The rest of the group was invited to watch and listen in as the meeting took place. At one point during the meeting it was conveyed to our group that this was the first time this family had left their hillside village. The first time they had been transported by vehicle. The first time any of them had ever been inside a building or seen Americans (or white people for that matter). This beautiful family of 5 handled this “strange” encounter with dignity and calmness. I can’t imagine how overwhelming it must have been to have a group of 12 Americans sitting across from them in a hotel lobby, smiling and asking questions about their lives. The children walked 3 miles each way to school everyday… rain, snow or sun. They lived modestly and trusted that the earth and Pachamama would provide all they needed to survive.  These families value the opportunity to go to school and aren’t afraid to work for it while we complain if the bus is late to pick up our kids or our plane is delayed an hour (try walking from LA to Chicago the next time your plane is late).

Unbeknownst to them, the world went on bustling and careening around them.

On this same Peruvian trip I was required to medically evac one of the participants from 13,500 ft due to a very significant medical event. After a fairly touch and go 24 hours, complete with early morning horseback rides and hospital visits, I finally tucked her into a hotel room in Cusco and retreated to my own room for some much needed rest. Not sure why, but I was inclined to turn on CNN just to see what was happening in the world.

Innocence is best served in the dark.

“500 Palestinians are now confirmed dead in Gaza”

“Israeli soldier taken hostage and tortured”

“50 combatants killed while battling over an airstrip in Tripoli, Lybia”

“Ukrainians place blame of downed commercial airliner squarely on Russia”

“Another commercial airplane disappears over Algiers”

“Female correspondent sexually assaulted by mob”

The news cycle played out. Then as it began to repeat… I had had enough. It was all just vitriolic pain.  Every word contentious and coming from a place of anger and hate. Our “civilized” world was in complete disarray with no end in sight.

I reflected back to that sweet, wonderfully naïve Quechan family that would not even be able to relate to all the pain that their fellow humans were inflicting on each other. They were, at that moment, just lying down with the sunset, awaiting another day of planting, harvesting and grazing. Nothing more.

As these travesties against humanity take place, these families go about their business just as they have for thousands of years, oblivious to the pain, sorrow and violence that is taking place around the world.

I’m not suggesting that western society should disavow our technology and cultural advancements and resort to a more “underdeveloped” way of life … nor am I suggesting that I would trade my comfy life with my campesino friends. I would simply ask each of us, me included, to reflect on the simple nature of life and how we can become more civil with each other.  Our needs are fundamental… food, water, shelter and love. If we could live more simply and allow others to achieve their basic needs, the world be a much more “civilized” place.

Climb High

Jeff

S2S Mission: Mt Whitney

As I reflect back on the previous four years since Erik and I committed to initiating and developing what would later go on to become the Soldiers to Summits program, I am profoundly moved to consider the dozens of amazing warriors I have been honored to share a rope with on each of our expeditions. One of the great gifts of starting this program has been the personal degree of learning I have been exposed to.  I had very little understanding back then how transformational the S2S program would be for me on a very profound level.

Watching these wounded warriors come together as a unit, congeal as a team, prepare for a mission and deal with adversity has taught me more than I can easily convey. I have seen strength and I have seen raw pain. I have learned what it means to stand up in the face of adversity…and in some cases, in spite of it.

Now four years later, as I accept the role as expedition leader again for an S2S project, I am honored to be inextricably connected to a new group of veterans that have dedicated themselves to roping up as a team, committed to the healing process and are fired up to embrace the bounty that the alpine environment provides us.

I am grateful to all the men and women that rope up with us in the mountains. I am grateful to them for their sacrifice. And I am grateful to them for teaching all of us what it means to be a warrior.

Jeff Evans PA-C

Expedition Leader - Mission: Mt Whitney

A Children's Story... Being of Service

I'm honored to be featured as the main character in a wonderful children's story written by my friend Cheryl Cutting.

Cheryl's story illustrates the joy and value of being a person of service to those around you. A wonderful message for all of us for sure...but Cheryl did a masterful job at writing the story in a way that a child can grasp and understand. My own 7 year old son loves it and in fact has read it twice now. 

I would recommend that all take a read through this and find an opportunity to share it with your kids as I'm confident that they will appreciate the powerful message.

Not all stars belong to the sky! - Unknown

JEFF’S GIFT: Throwing Stars

By Cheryl A. Cutting

“Being of service doesn’t have to mean doing something big,” said Jeff.

“But with so much need in the world – how can we possibly make a difference if we

don’t do something big?” Alia wanted to know.

“That’s a great question and it reminds me of a story,” he replied.

As they sat on the beach scrunching their toes in the warm sand, Jeff shared this story:

Early one morning a man was walking along the beach. The sun was shining and it

was a beautiful day. Off in the distance he could see a girl going back and forth

between the beach and the surf’s edge. Back and forth she went again and again.

As the man approached he could see there were hundreds of starfish stranded on

the sand as a result of a storm the night before, and the girl was tossing them one by

one back into the surf.

“Young lady,” he asked, “why are you throwing starfish into the sea?”

“The sun is up, the tide is going out, and if I don’t throw them back they will die,”

she said.

“But don’t you realize there are miles and miles of beach and stranded starfish all

along it? You cannot possibly make a difference.” He replied.

The girl listened politely, paused and then bent down, picked up another starfish

and gently threw it back into the ocean. She then turned back to the man and said

with a smile, “I sure made a difference for that one!”

“Did the girl in the story make a difference for each starfish she threw back into the sea?”

Jeff asked.

“Absolutely!” replied Alia.

“Do you think any of those starfish are ever going to come back and thank her for saving

their lives? Or maybe they’ll send her a nice note in the mail expressing their

appreciation?” Jeff teased with a gleam in his eye.

Alia laughed at the silly thought of getting a card in the mail from a starfish. “No, I’m

pretty sure they won’t,” she said with a smile.

“So, if we don’t serve others for the gratitude and we don’t do it for the glory, then why

do it?” He asked her.

Letting sand sift through her fingers, Alia thought about the question. “Because we can

and because it’s a good thing to help people,” she replied.

“That’s certainly part of the answer, but there’s a difference between helping and

serving,” said Jeff. “If I help you then in some way I see you as less able than I am. But if

I serve you then we’re equals who simply have different abilities and resources.”

Alia was confused and it showed in the look on her face.

Jeff thought for a moment then picked up a piece of driftwood and drew two candles in

the sand.

“There’s an old saying which says:

A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle

“If we’re both in the dark and both have candles but my candle has a flame and yours

doesn’t, then I can serve you by lighting your candle, right?” asked Jeff.

“Right,” Alia replied hesitantly.

 “However it doesn’t mean you’re any less than me just because you don’t have a

candle with a flame. And if I light your candle then what is my reward?”

Alia jumped up smiling and said, “I know! More light!”

“Exactly! Good job!” Jeff cheered.

“So by serving others we can light up the world and also leave our mark in some way,

right?” Alia asked. She liked the idea of making a difference even though she was still

just a kid.

Jeff got up, wiped sand from his shorts and walked a little ways leaving footprints on the

beach behind him. When he turned around he said,

 “Yes, Alia, being of service is like leaving footprints in the sand. Our footprints are the

result of our actions but quickly fade away, however as we make our imprints we also

carry some of the sand away with us, right?”

“Right,” she replied.

“So if we spend time lighting candles and throwing starfish back into the sea then even

such small gestures can make our ‘footprints’ meaningful and we get to carry some of

the good away with us too,” he continued.

“I sort of understand what you mean,” she told him.

“The footprints the girl made while tossing starfish into the sea faded as the waves

washed up on shore, erasing any sign she had ever been there. But the difference she

made in the lives of those starfish is what remains. Isn’t that cool?” Jeff asked as he lay

back down on the sand and closed his eyes.

“Yes, it’s very cool, but what do I have to give?” Alia asked. “I’m just a kid.”

While she waited for Jeff’s reply Alia twirled back and forth making swishy footprints in

the damp sand. When she stopped to inspect her impressions the sun went behind a dark

cloud; this made her shiver just a bit as the chilly sea water lapped at her feet and began

to erase her footprints.

With his eyes still closed Jeff finally answered: “The girl in the story was just a kid too

yet she made a difference by the tiny act of tossing starfish back into the sea. Maybe she

gave us the secret: if we walk through life throwing stars - if we just do little good deeds

here and there along the way  - this can add up to making a big difference one small step

at a time.

“I like her idea! I want to be a star-thrower too!” Alia announced as she plopped herself

back down on the sand. “

“Ok, with your star-thrower goal in mind the next question is who do you want to travel

with?” Jeff asked as he sat back up to look at her. “Good travel companions make all the

difference, and our truest friends are lighthouse beacons on our journey.”

“What’s a lighthouse beacon,” asked Alia.

Pointing down the beach in the direction of the old lighthouse, Jeff explained:

“A lighthouse beacon is the light that shines out over the waters at night to warn ships of

treacherous reefs and rocks; the beacon keeps ships out of harm's way and guides them

home to a safe harbor.”

They sat together quietly for a while watching the waves, then Jeff continued:

“Choosing to live a life of service means there will be plenty of joys, but there will also

be challenges and even some treacherous reefs and rocks. It’s during those times you

must allow others to serve you, be a beacon for you; which is why it is vital to have true

and trusted travel companions.”

Alia dug her toes deeper into the sand and stared quietly out at the horizon for a

long time. Jeff was patient, giving her time to think about all he had said.

As the sun finally broke through the clouds and covered the beach in rays of golden light,

the answer she had been searching for seemed to burst into Alia’s mind at the same time.

“So if I’m going to be a true star-thrower then there will be times I am the thrower and

other times when I am the star…is that right?” she asked excitedly.

“Yes, that’s exactly right, Alia. To truly be of service we must learn to be good at giving

and receiving,” said Jeff.

As the sun sank slowly into the sea they began their walk back up the beach.

“Alia, you’re on the threshold of a grand adventure, but you can only make the journey

one step at a time,” he said. “Be curious, take risks, listen to your heart and give

everything you do your best shot. Try to do this in every facet of your life then watch to

see what amazing things happen. And if you get lost along the way always turn back to

the stars.

“Thanks Jeff. I learned a lot today and I’m excited to become a star-thrower just like

you,” she said and then happily skipped the rest of the way home.

That night as she lay in her bed, Alia had a vision of millions of stars dancing in her

head…and just as she was drifting off to sleep she tossed the first one back into the sea.

The End

© Cheryl Cutting 2012

**

Dear Reader,

This is a fictional story about an actual gift I received from Jeff Evans. I hope you

enjoyed reading about this gift as much as I have enjoyed sharing it with you. Remember

what Jeff said to Alia: Listen to your heart, give everything you do your best shot and

look for ways to be a star thrower along the way! If you do this then amazing things are

sure to happen!

Your friend,

Cheryl

Jeff Evans

By all accounts, Jeff Evans is just a regular guy; he is a down-to-earth country boy who could live next door to you and is about as nice and unassuming a person as you’d ever hope to meet.

That being said, Jeff is also an acclaimed adventurer, speaker, author and world-class mountaineer and climbing guide who has chosen to live a life of service. It is difficult to put into words the magnitude of Jeff’s willingness to sacrifice in order to be of service to others.

Jeff can be captivating and inspiring, but in the most down-home sort of way, and his slight southern accent puts you at ease as he dances you towards the answers to questions you may have. Like cool lemonade on a hot summer day – Jeff both refreshes us and slows us down so we can see more clearly what living a life of service truly means. He is a role model for me and this story was my attempt to give him a gift in return for the gifts he has given me.

You can learn more about Jeff and his adventures at: http://www.mountain-vision.com/

*The Star Thrower story told by Jeff is credited to Loren C. Eiseley (1907–1977), although it is a variation on the original.

Blog: http://exhaleyourself.blogspot.com/