Hell Is Above Us: The Epic Race to the Top of Fumu, the World's Tallest Mountain (11 page)

But after seven expeditions, the Royal Geographic Society, the Everest Committee, and the entire British government were sick of putting their best and brightest men in harm’s way, especially when a possible war loomed. Money was not an issue at the moment, and they were willing to fund many more campaigns. But no more would they fund the high-altitude deaths of the “old-boy” network. Names like Shipton, Longland, and Wollaston would not be put into harm’s way anymore. A decision was made to only send chimneysweeps, the Irish, and members of the then-dying Liberal Party.

Sir Percy Cox, secretary of the Everest Committee, received a letter from the United States at about this time. It was from Aaron Junk. In it, Junk pleaded with the committee to let him join their next expedition to Everest. He explained that American businesses and government had little interest in funding a climb at the time, and that his own funding was currently tied up in other concerns. Junk used a rather silly argument to persuade the committee to allow an outsider to tag along: “My father was a world-renowned geographer and map-maker. I believe I am well on my way to becoming his worthy successor. In addition, I am an excellent mountaineer. If you have friendships with any American mountaineer, please ask them about my abilities. I am confident they will paint an impressive picture. The United Kingdom would benefit greatly from my participation.”

Cox saw right through the request, but also championed the idea of letting Junk come along. Cox wrote to a friend who was also on the committee about Junk’s request:

Cox lobbied hard, but almost every member to the man was opposed to Junk’s inclusion on the expedition. The Royal Geographic Society took umbrage with an American – any American – taking part in an endeavor so tied up with national identity. What if Junk reached the top first? What if Junk doomed the whole enterprise? Any press-worthy actions by an American climber on a British expedition would be problematic. His success would belittle them, and his failure would bring the government’s judgment into question.

Junk decided to make his case in person. He travelled to London and made a beeline for Cox’s flat. After talking Cox into dinner and after countless late-night bottles of expensive California wine, Junk literally got down on bended knee. All he wanted, he explained, was to continue the work his dearly departed father could never finish. Cox stopped him from embarrassing himself further. He knew William Hoyt was also planning a trip to Everest and that Junk wanted nothing more than to beat Hoyt to the top. Cox then shared the bad news that Hoyt’s trip was scheduled to start ten days before the British trip. Catching up would be futile. If Junk still wished to join the expedition knowing he could not compete with his nemesis, then Cox could convince the other committee members to let Junk tag along. Put another way, removing the personal competition would de-fang the American and make him more willing to play along with his fellow team members. And this knowledge would reassure the committee.

Surprisingly to Cox, Junk needed no time to deliberate. He accepted.

Aaron Junk had absolutely no intention of “tagging along” (and of course, he had no intention of making maps, a profession in which had had little interest). He intended to use his aggressive salesman skills to essentially hijack the expedition. He would work his way into a leadership position and convince the team to take Everest from the south. This had three important implications. First, the south side of Everest is in forbidden Nepal, so they would have to sneak through the Kingdom undetected and still have the strength to climb what was thought to be the world’s tallest mountain. Second, no one in the mountaineering community had a good idea what the south side of Everest held in store. People who had reached the upper ridges of Everest had looked down at its southern face and so could deduce some basic things. The glimpses from above confirmed that the southern face might offer an easier route to the top. But one could not really be sure until he or she was standing at the base, looking up. The third implication, the one most important to Junk, was that taking Everest from the south would easily shave ten days off of the trek, allowing him to catch up with Hoyt. Hoyt was a rule-follower and would unquestionably approach from Tibet in the north. Getting to Tibet from Calcutta takes a long time. Getting to Nepal takes far less time because one does not need to “loop around” the Himalaya. Perhaps the two expeditions would not start ascending from their respective base camps on the exact same day, but it would damned be close.

Cox could not have predicted how his decision to send untested climbers would help Junk’s cause. The leader of the team was a man named Percy Tersely, a disgraced banker from London, who had allegedly tried to embezzle one thousand dollars from his employers, the Bank of England. His plot failed when he deposited the embezzled money into a savings account under his name
in the same bank
. The barrister at his trial pointed out that the young bookworm was an avid reader of Edgar Allen Poe, and suggested Tersely was clearly trying to avoid suspicion by using a tactic learned from Poe’s “The Purloined Letter.” But most people following the trial felt he was just an idiot. Tersely was ultimately let go on a technicality. As a mountaineer, he was unexceptional but sufficient, having led expeditions to K2 and Annapurna that had set height records, but had not reached the summits. His acceptable climbing abilities mixed with his status as a disgraced British old boy made him a perfect candidate for expedition leader of the 1939 “disposable” attempt on Everest.

Also along for the expedition was Elihu Twist, a farmer from the town of Woking; John Browning, a former soldier on the Indian front who was discharged for frotteurism; Andrew Witherspoon, a geologist from Vauxhall; Shaun McSorley, a noted climber from Dublin; and Bruce “Tosser” Oldhusband of Coventry. They were all decent climbers, but none of them went to good schools (McSorley did not go to any) and none were members of the British Armed Forces, which could often get a man in good with the aristocracy even if he was of ill breeding. Oldhusband came from a moneyed family, but he had been cut out of the family fortune because they did not approve of his chosen line of work, which was linguistics.

The Everest Committee would not spare its best men, but it would spare no expense getting this ignoble, baseborn team to the top. They would use brute force as a replacement for skill. Along for the trip would be one hundred and fifty porters, thirty more high-altitude Sherpa, three hundred and fifty pack animals, and enough food for two expeditions.

Junk’s plan was set. Perfect timing and substandard cohorts. He would climb Everest at the same time as Junk, but would beat him to the summit using the southern route.

Hoyt’s American team left The United States in early June and arrived at Base Camp almost three months later. The weather was gorgeous. The monsoon-driven storms were gone and the sun shone off of the mountain gloriously. Hoyt was especially hopeful because of the crack squad he had put together. Gil Taylor, Phillip Zeigler, Daniel Crimmins, William Webster, and Paul Fleming. All heroes in the pantheon of American mountaineering. In addition to their climbing expertise, they were also map-makers, geologists, naturalists, and comparative linguists. To prepare Tibet for their arrival, Hoyt asked Gil Taylor, an ethnographer from the University of Chicago, to act as liaison officer and write a letter to the Tibetan government. Hoyt believed Taylor could do the best job obtaining access to the Tibetan borders due to his occupation. Taylor wrote the following:

Sirs,

The sun slowly sets on the British Crown and, moving east, begins to rise on your new better, the United States of America. Repair to your homes and don your Sunday best, for a team of sahibs arrive from the Promised Land in three months’ time. We will have in tow myriad porters and countless pack mules. You will know us by the pride in our gaits. We expect every courtesy of you, anointing our feet with soothing balms and refreshing our vodka tonics with either a wedge of lemon, or a twist, depending upon our heart’s want. Choose to ignore these words and the talons of the bald eagle will rend your great nation asunder.

Demanding tribute,

Gilford Taylor

Hoyt had been unaware up to this point that an ethnographer could be a racist. He had to follow up this letter with an immediate apology to the Dalai Lama. Hoyt claimed Taylor was “possessed by a succubus” when he wrote the missive. The High Llama, in his infinite wisdom and tolerance, welcomed the Americans graciously.

Now, three months later, they looked up at the East Rongbuk Glacier and the mountain beyond. Unbeknownst to them, Junk was making his Tibetan approach. Also hidden from Hoyt’s view was another nemesis – one he did not yet know he had. Fumu.

It had taken almost two months for the British Expedition to arrive in Calcutta. On the ocean voyage, Junk had made quick friends with everyone except Tersely. Instead, he made every effort to publicly question Tersely’s plans for climbing Everest. Junk never explicitly challenged the man, but he asked pointed questions and treated the answers like they were spoken by a child.

“
How many men do you plan to use for the final push at the top?” would be a likely question.

“
Four” was a likely response.

“
Sounds like someone is not considering any backup if an initial summit attempt fails, but okay.”

All of this was part of Junk’s strategy. Humiliate Tersely in front of everyone and then take his authority. It seemed to be working. By the time they made Calcutta, Tersely jokes were shooting back and forth between expedition members, usually alluding to his botched embezzlement scheme. “I think Tersely has stolen my pocket watch! Why? Because it’s right here in my pocket! The genius of it all!” Sometimes they took aim at the shortcomings Junk had created about Tersely out of thin air. “Tersely wants to use four pack mules for the summit attempt instead of people. But then he thought the better of it, realizing in his infinite wisdom they could not plant the Union Jack.”

Things turned awkward when Tersely simply left. No one knew that the man they were taunting was a youngest sibling in the Tersely clan. He had never been taken seriously by his family, ever. But after the failed embezzlement scheme and now the mockery of his mountaineering leadership skills, he had had enough; Junk was awoken long after he had gone to bed by noises in the next room. In the hallway, he saw Tersely in a fit of tears walking out of their hotel and into the Calcutta night. He would not be seen again until 1975, when some extended family members happened across him, now a moslem sheepherder near Tehran.

A solemn and ashamed team now turned to Junk, who gladly took the helm. The next day, they met their Sherpa guides, including sardar Ang Kikuli, and headed up from Calcutta to Darjeeling by train. “Change in plans” Junk announced to his team. He then convinced them, one by one, that they should not proceed up to Tibet like previous British expeditions, but instead trek into Nepal, only a few miles away. They would then hike across the Lesser Himalaya to Everest. He explained that going through Nepal offered a more direct route and, unlike England and the United States, other nations’ border restrictions were merely suggestions. Easily convinced, the team hiked northwest into Nepal and straight for Everest.

They luckily experienced no run-ins at the border. The subsequent trek through the kingdom was relatively uneventful. As the Himalaya began to appear, Junk caught his first glimpse of Fumu.

“
We are crossing Nepal with amazing speed. The locals have been swell and the men are growing more and more excited with each day. What’s fueling that excitement is the nature of the horizon ahead of us. Only a few days ago, the reddish-purple sunset ended at a rugged line demarcating the Earth below. Now, with each passing sunset, the line takes on more character. The ruggedness gets more rugged. The sun hits the horizon earlier. Now we can clearly see the outline of Abel ahead, and behind it, the smoky one they call Fumu. Even though our elevation is still relatively low, I swear I can smell snow in the air. It’s a beautiful thing when the horizon stops being a metaphor. I can literally see my future there. I only wish Dolores and my dear chum McGee were here to enjoy it.”

We can assume that this was a woman he was dating briefly at the time. No other record could be found about her.

When Junk and the team reached the Himalaya, their pace slowed. Oxygen had gone from a given to a luxury. They were making every effort to save their energy for Everest. No one wanted to struggle against the waning air supply until it was necessary. The team also slowed because of the majesty of the landscape. The air was still warm and fragrant here. They travelled through lush, narrow valleys full of birch, juniper, and rhododendron, broken up by clear blue rivers of icy run-off. On both sides of them, the valleys gave way to walls of rock, leading up to mountains of other-worldly proportions. Occasionally they would cross a monk or a farmer making their way to villages laying at lower climes.