Through my eyes. "The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.” - Saint Augustine

If Francys could stay alive she would be famous. She squeezed Serguei’s hand. Her husband squeezed back, letting her know he could feel her there. They could see the curvature of the Earth, the first husband and wife ever to do so. The thin air bit into her chest. The dazzling light burnt her eyes. She was tired. Very tired. She should be. She had just become the first woman from North America to climb Mount Everest without bottled oxygen. Serguei started down the mountain but only after a few steps he stopped to look over his shoulder at Francys, still on the summit. Looking as though she belonged there, standing with the giants of the world. There was an innocence to her that stood out now more than ever before. She was so beautiful. A sick feeling of fate came over Serguei and he insisted that she start descending with him, immediately. Isaac Newton’s Theory does not always happen when on a mountain like Everest. What goes up…only hopefully comes down. Now, if she could stay alive, she would be famous. Charles Evans kicked into the hard ice, showering shafts of crystals onto his tweed trousers. He wrapped the sodden hemp rope around his ice axe, more for psychological safety than a serious attempt to hold a fall, and looked up at Tom Bourdillion. They didn’t need to say anything. They were soon to become the first men to summit the highest mountain in the world. The first men to plant the flag. They knew what that meant. Phantog sighed and slowly closed the little red book. She held it close to her chest and rested her eyes for a moment. Not for too long. It was far too cold for that. But long enough to reassure herself. She was the chosen one. The Great Mao had told her so. It was her destiny to be the first. The first woman on the summit of Mount Everest. She would succeed or she would die. That was what was expected of her, and she accepted the honor with pride. Light blues. Deep greens. But mostly striking yellows. The vivid tents buzzed with excitement. The surreal melody of yak bells mixed with the jarring reality of walkie-talkies swirled around me as the glacier wind swept them across Everest Base Camp and up the cold mountainside. Hopes and dreams danced all around. Passion. Anticipation. Energy. Climbers leaving for the high camps. More coming down. If I tried hard enough I could feel the presence all those who had gone before. But I sense there is more. Something underneath. Something not spoken about. Something hidden from view like the deep underbelly of the glacier. Base Camp is as much filled with positive energy as it is filled with sorrow and inconsolable despair; fueled by failure and mourning. The contrast from one tent to another can be huge. One can excitedly be celebrating the fulfillment of a lifetime’s dream, while another comes to terms with the death of a teammate. Understanding either emotion is impossible unless you are lucky or ill fated enough to be in one of those tents. But the contradicting emotions does not stop there. Just inside Base Camp there is a “bakery” in a tent where tourists love to try and make it to; so they can walk around sticking their noses in tents trying to see if they can talk to a famous climber. And of course buy some of the apple pie. Sitting amongst the fluttering Buddhist prayer flags, watching the small black dots edge their way through the majestic and lethal Khumbu Icefall, I realized that the human spirit cannot move mountains, but it can certainly try and climb them. What may seem crazy to one person is critical to another. Each has their own Everest, but whether they choose to attempt the summit or not is a choice of both spirit and mind. As Henry Ford said, ‘Whether you think you can or you can’t, you’re right.” If we allow our human spirit the wing space to fly, we can attempt the summit of any peak in our lives. Struggles are inevitable, but failure is not. The human spirit moves us inexorably forward with the hidden power of a glacier. Its power and purity is often covered and its constant movement sometimes forgotten. But scratch the surface just a little, push away the mask of rocks and stones, and there it will be, ready to help us do extraordinary things. Time was passing quickly but their steps were slow. Francys was starting to get very weak and delusional. Serguei tried to help take some of the weight off of her by putting Francys’ arm over his shoulders but it was no use. Her legs eventually started to give out and Serguei was too weak to take all of her weight. Serguei sat Francys down in the snow and attempted to prop her up as much as he could. If they were anywhere else in the world, he would have been able to pick her up, throw her over his shoulders and walk for hours. But after the summit bid and the altitude, both bodies were starting to deteriorate very quickly. Serguei took Francys’ goggles off of her face to get a good look at her eyes. He took her hand in his and leaned into her, almost pressing his nose onto hers. Francys’ eyes were not focusing and her limbs were weak and limp. “Fran, sweetie” he said choking through tears of helplessness. “We need to get up now, lets go back down to camp 4 and get into some warm clothing ok?” “Come on, you need to get up”. Francys only responded with mumbling and small movements with her hands. Serguei knew he couldn’t get her down alone. There was no one else around to help. Anyone coming down from the mountain wouldn’t be able to help anyways. Their bodies would be just as exhausted as his. He had to leave her in order to help her. He needed to find fresh climbers to give up their summit bid to save his wife. Unfortunetly this was not an easy thing to do. He was starting to get dangerously cold, sitting still beside his dying wife. He had to move now or soon he wouldn’t have the option to go get help. Stumbling to get up Serguei keeled over, gasping for air. Time was demanding him to move quickly to save Francys but his body was commanding him to move deathly slow. His condition was not much better than hers. He bent over Francys, who was becoming quieter as the minutes flew by. He left her the only oxygen bottle they had left. Kissing her on the forehead one last time, he whispered, “Fran I love you, I will be back for you,” and slowly but anxiously turned away from her to find help. He would only have one chance at this. It was 1953; Evans and Bourdillion were about to be the first men to summit Mt. Everest. The prime of England, the crème de la crème of the U.K, these men were the chosen ones to put a flag on the top. Standing on the breath taking South Summit, they had to make a choice. Their bodies were in very bad condition and luck was as far as it could be from them now. But the choice was theirs. Do they push on, be the first to reach the peak of Everest, and then enter a situation where death is almost inevitable? Or do they turn back? Dragging their tails between their legs as they make their way to Base Camp. They only had a few minutes to make this life-altering decision. Would they take the risk to die as heroes or go home as nobodies? Looking at each other through their masks and oxygen-deprived minds, they knew what they had to do. The sacrifice they had to take. Together, they made a decision that would change the designed tale of Everest forever. Putting her red book away, she left her tent at the final high camp very early in the morning. It was time for the final push to the summit. All of her hard work and planning over the past couple of years was starting to really pay off. The peak of Everest was only a few hours away from her now, and she could feel it. Her body was weak but her will was strong. Today was her day to put her country’s flag on the summit of Everest and to claim her ranking as: ‘Phantog! The first woman to reach the top.’ She would be a legacy for all of the women around the world to know and strive to be. There was only one problem. She could see evidence of a team climbing very recently in the direction she was about to go. Were they female climbers or male climbers? She wouldn’t really know until she had traveled back home. A thought that would haunt her for the rest of her expedition. Success is something that all humans strive for. It can be anything such as: successful parenting, successful fishing trips, success at work, success in bed, successful workouts, and the list goes on and on. Success is very important for our purpose in life. Without it, what would we work hard for? Where would we imagine our lives to be in the next few years? What would the point to living really be, if the goal were not steering in a positive direction? This is all full of purpose and hope but when we brand success as reaching a climax of a story, best of the best, or furthest in one direction that you can go… it loses it’s meaning all together. An obsession has been created with a type of success that is not about personal growth but about public showing. If people notice what you have done and reward you with attention and awe then you are considered very successful. Does this mean that acceptance equals success? The South Summit is about 300 vertical feet from the actual summit of Everest. To get to the summit you have to walk along a thin ridge. One slip to the right could have you in Tibet in a few free falling seconds while a slip to the left would have you plummeting graciously down Everest’s Southwest Face; With your scream being frozen by the subzero temperatures. Concentration and focus are essential to get across this barrier. Funny enough, at this altitude these are the first couple of things that you lose; Next to most of your strength and familiar breathing. Further on past this ridge was the unknown. There could be anything else in the 300 vertical feet between these two men and the summit. There is a powerful saying that can continue or end a life. As cliché as it is, it still rings true: ‘The summit is only half of the journey’, you need to get yourself back down safely. This platitude could save a life, two lives even. And Evans and Bourdillion were not stupid men, this was obvious to them. What they had to decide now was what is more important. Risking health, limb, and life for a successful label or to turn around to face public failure. Success in this position can only be defined by the experience itself; to be there to understand the greatness of the event. No one other than Evans and Bourdillion themselves would know the real success they had, standing on the South Summit of Everest, questioning the importance of the next 300 vertical feet. When at that altitude, distance is not measured by feet or meters but by time. Time is dependent of strength, weather, and level of difficulty. The path to the top does not change, only the conditions and the climber. Taking all of this into account, the bittersweet taste of the summit was still enough to make these men hesitate to turn around. The ‘What if’ thought rushed around their minds bouncing off of their fatigue, passion, and the effects of the altitude on their brain. Through his goggles and oxygen mask, Bourdillion turned to Evans and smiled. Of course you could not see his mouth or any other part of his face because of the amount of protection he had on. Spending this much time on a mountain with another person gives you that connection where you don’t actually have to see the other climber’s face or hear his voice to know what he is thinking. Evans pulled his oxygen mask away from his face. Icicles attached to his mask and face splintered off and sparkled in the sun as it fell onto his brightly colored jacket. He took a long hard breath and said “Hey mate,” Smiling through his teeth he paused to take another painful breath and continued to say, “you feel like some hot milk tea back at camp?” Putting his oxygen mask back on he extended his hand out to Bourdillion. They both nodded and shook hands. Never looking back to the summit. Conquering their egos, the highest men in the world slowly turned back down towards Camp 4 to have some hot milk tea. On their way back down to Base Camp, Evans and Bourdillion gave helpful tips and pointers from their climb and what to be ready for and expect while having a friendly chat with two hopeful climbers on their way up; Tenzing and Hillary. There is a funny feeling I get while peering up at the huge mountains that circle Base Camp. Why do we do this? If the point is to climb to the top, turn around, and walk back down…then why wouldn’t I just stay down here and save myself all of the trouble. The amount of work that goes into just planning the expedition let alone actually doing it is mind blowing in itself. The cost just to get a permit to climb the bloody mountain is currently over seventy thousand dollars and it’s still rising! Then once you have begged enough sponsors to pay for your permit you need to have the proper equipment, flights, food plans, a decent team recruited, porters set up, and then after all of that you have better been working out. Then from there you sweat yourself to Base Camp where the rest of us are all sitting around waiting for our turn and time to go up, knowing very well that we are putting our lives at risk in more ways than a hundred. Imagine what could have been done with this time and money. The starving people who could have been saved, the steps towards curing cancer that could have been taken, or the extra hours at work that could have been logged. Climbing a mountain is useless. Then again…useless is key to productivity. As the female climber Phantog made her first steps onto the top of Everest it had been eleven days since Junko Tabei was labeled the first woman to summit. Phantog was too late. Phantog would have taken pictures, experienced the view, proudly put her country’s flag up and walked away just as any previous summiteers would have. The only difference between her and Tabei’s expedition is time. They both personally struggled mentally and physically, they both had passion and drive for the summit, and they both had seen what many mountaineers long to see for their whole lives. But the front page of any paper would not say “Tabei and Phantog summit Everest!” A couple of hours had passed since Serguei left Francys. Two members from a South African team was on their summit bid, when they noticed a body that they did not expect to be there. The two surprised climbers observed some movement. Unable to ignore her and continue up the mountain they went over to see what the problem was and if they could be of any help. Fully knowing the depressingly low chances of saving anyone up here, they canceled their summit attempt to try and rescue this climber’s life. The SA expedition leader knelt down beside Francys and attempted to communicate with her. Recognizing her from previous camps he started to wonder where her husband was. They didn’t pass him on the way up. Unable to worry about him at that moment, the two climbers attempted to move her down the mountain. The heavy dead weight of her expiring body was too much for them. They put her back down where they found her and tried again to communicate. All she was able to say was, “Don’t leave me,” but they knew she was already gone. She was so delusional and unresponsive to anything said to her. It was just a matter of time until she wouldn’t make any sound at all. Looking over at his fellow climber, The SA leader felt the worst shock of his life. He could see symptoms in his teammate that could very well lead to Francys’ condition. They too had to leave her behind. Standing still and exposed in the freezing temperatures and high altitude could easily kill them. Making her as comfortable as they possibly could, and leaving some more oxygen bottles with her, they turned back down the mountain. Painfully leaving their dreams of the summit and a fellow climber behind them. For about 10 years Francys’ body was lying in the same spot, exposed to every climbing expedition making a summit bid, and eventually she became a marker for direction. “Keep left once you pass the purple body”. The SA expedition leader that gave up his summit attempt to try and save her, later made an expedition to ‘bury’ Francys; For the respect of her and her family. Spending month after month after month trying to get sponsorship, flights, sherpas, etc. He finally successfully reached her body once again but this time to put her body at peace, away from the eyes of everyone passing her body. Serguei’s body was never found. If they just could have stayed alive they would have been famous… It is said that, to be productive you have to produce something. Success comes from productiveness. Climbing a mountain does not actually produce anything. But the importance about allowing yourself to be adventurous and giving your spirit some elbowroom is invaluable. Just by doing the things that may seem senseless to some is the way to find the cure to cancer, the solution to world hunger or even how to get that promotion. The solution to these dilemmas is not in anything we have already done or it would not be a problem anymore. In order to get something done or be productive we have to do and be the senseless. Without senselessness we will just continue in a straight line instead of going up and attempting the summits of our greatest challenges. People who have come and gone before us have constantly reminded the world of the importance of the human spirit. Through the stories of their lives, we can learn of our own personal strength and power. All we need is a bit of inspiration and our own internal drive. As we balance on the shoulders of giants of the past, we expose and reach our true potential. The senseless struggle up the mountains of their lives …and the tourists? They just come for the apple pie.