Iced!: The 2007 Journal of Nick Fitzmorgan (12 page)

Carrying the supplies, Maura and I made our way toward the center of the camp. There must have been thirty or forty climbers
and at least twice as many Sherpas. The climbers were bustling about, sharing drinks and toasting each other. Most of them
had extremely chapped and raw-looking skin on their faces. While there were quite a few expeditions coming back from the mountain,
we were the only one preparing for a climb.

In the very middle of the camp, a hand-painted sign was stuck in the ground.

Maura read the sign out loud and then asked me, “Do you know what the words ‘because it’s there’ mean?” It was clear from
her tone that she already knew the answer. But I explained anyway.

“It’s the answer George Mallory gave when a reporter asked him why he wanted to climb Mount Everest. He said, ‘Because it’s
there.’ His answer was so simple and straight-forward it became famous around the world.”

Maura nodded. “But Mallory was an experienced mountaineer, an expert—”

“And I’m just a fourteen-year-old kid with no real climbing experience,” I interrupted. I could tell that Maura was going
to try again to convince me to stay behind, while she and Jiban went up the mountain. “If you have oxygen tanks and a Sherpa
who knows what he’s doing, you don’t have to be a world-class climber. You just have to be in really good shape. And thanks
to PDA, we both are.”

“I don’t think you get how dangerous this is,” Maura said. “This isn’t a training mission where an instructor gives you a
second chance. If you fail up there …”

You die. She didn’t say the words but they hung in the air between us.

“It’s not like we have to make it to the top,” I said. “We just have to catch up with my dad and then, we can come back down.”

“We’re not even one hundred percent certain he’s up there,” Maura said.

Jiban joined us. His face was flushed with excitement. “A Sherpa just told me he spotted two people heading up the mountain
as he was coming down. He couldn’t tell me much about one of them—even if it was a man or a woman—because the person was too
bundled up. But the second person … the second person matched the description of your father.”

JIBAN MET A SHERPA WHO MIGHT HAVE SEEN DAD!

“Finally, a real lead!” I cried.

“He can’t be absolutely sure it was him, but—”

“Was my dad okay?” I cut in eagerly. “Did he look hurt?”

Jiban put a hand on my shoulder. “My friend said the man appeared to be in good health. And that they should be at Camp 1
now.”

I looked at my map quickly. “That means they’re just a day ahead of us. We can catch up to them!”

Jiban said to Maura, “I think we have to consider alerting the authorities. They can send up experienced climbers.”

“No,” I said immediately. “If whoever took my dad sees a bunch of police coming, he might panic and do something … bad. But
if there’s just the three of us, then we might be able to get close without the kidnapper even noticing. Plus, this could
be one of the situations that Judge trained us for.”

I waited for Maura’s response. She took a second to think things over. “Okay,” she agreed. “Tomorrow we climb to Camp 1.”

“You want to climb tomorrow?” Jiban asked me. He seemed more than a little worried.

“Yes,” I answered.

Jiban looked me in the eye. “Tomorrow is June eighth.”

“Oh,” I said. Now I understood his anxiety.

“So?” Maura asked. “What’s so big about June eighth?”

“On June 8, 1924, George Mallory disappeared on Mount Everest. He was never seen alive again.”

Jiban looked at both of us. “Well,” he said, “let’s hope we have better luck.”

IT WAS STILL DARK WHEN WE STARTED OUR CLIMB.

This morning, I started another trek in
the middle of the night. But at least this time, I wasn’t alone. At 3:30
AM
, Jiban, Maura, and I headed out from Base Camp. It was still pitch-dark outside.

The first part of our journey took us from Base Camp to Camp 1. We had to climb only 2,000 feet higher to 19,500 feet above
sea level. But we would also have to make our way through the most terrifying part of the climb up Mount Everest. Who knew
the trickiest part of the climb was at the beginning?

The Khumbu Icefall sits between the two camps. And it’s one of the most beautiful—and frightening—places on the planet. The
Icefall is made up of gigantic chunks of ice, some as large as buildings. These chunks are called “seracs,” and they are constantly
shifting. Gravity pulls them downward about four feet a day.

Hurrying to catch up with my dad and whoever was with him wasn’t the only reason we had to get an early start. The seracs
pick up speed in the heat of the sun. Huge, seemingly bottomless gaps can quickly open up between them.

Because the seracs are constantly shifting, each year Sherpas establish a new route through the Icefall. They use rope and
aluminum ladders laid flat to create bridges over gaps that can be hundreds of feet deep.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, our only light came from the moon, the stars, and the lamps on our helmets.

The climb was dangerous and hard. But at least it wasn’t so cold!

When I commented on the warm weather and clear skies, Jiban smiled. “Don’t get used to it, my Friend. This time of year the
weather is very unpredictable. A storm can develop in the blink of an eye.”

Jiban was an excellent climber. He showed no signs of being physically challenged, and both Maura and I relied heavily on
him to get us through this first part of the climb.

About halfway to Camp 1, we came upon a bridge that was actually made of seventeen ladders. They had been lashed together
with rope and spanned the widest, deepest gap yet.

I kept count as I crawled over each ladder. The hardest part was when I got to the eighth ladder and realized I was right
in the middle of the bridge. I could feel it curving slightly from my weight—and for a second I froze. I managed to pull myself
together and inched my way over the rest of the gap.

After that horrifying experience, Jiban said that we deserved a break. We took a seat on the edge of the seracs. It felt kind
of like a giant but very cold couch.

“So,” Maura said, “now that we’re on the mountain, how will we find your dad and the other climber?

“Hopefully,” I replied, “we’ll just catch up to them.”

Jiban gestured up toward the summit of Everest. “This is a big mountain. There are many different routes to the top.”

I smiled. “But I know which way they”ll take.”

“How?” Maura asked.

“It all goes back to Mallory and his missing camera. If we retrace Mallory’s steps on his last climb. I think we’ll find my
dad.”

Jiban said, “You want to reenact his climb?”

I nodded.

“But Mallory died up there,” said Maura.

“It’s the only chance we have to find my dad.” I got to my feet.

Jiban told us break time was over, and we started climbing again.

We made it through the Icefall!

And we made great time, arriving at Camp 1 by 8:45
A.M.
Since it was still so early, we decided to keep hiking to the next stop. I’m now in my sleeping bag in my tent at Camp 2

There’s no sign of my dad here. In fact, there is no sign of anyone. We are the only climbers who are headed up the mountain.
Jiban says this is very strange. The last few years, more and more people have been making the climb up Everest. There can
be twenty or thirty people in this camp at one time, especially this time of year. Where is everyone? The weather still looks
clear, but Jiban wonders if other climbers have heard something we haven’t—and are staying off the mountain on purpose.