Mera Peak photo gallery

MERA PEAK
April/May 2001

Click HERE to go straight to Base Camp

The following is an account of the adventure mainly from my own point of view and a brief insight into the various personalities that made up the team.

It was obvious from the outset that my reasons for climbing Mera Peak were very different from that of my team mates. To them it was an adventure holiday that they had planned and looked forward to for quite some time. For most of them the summit would be a bonus if they were to reach it. What they were really here for was the adventure, the scenery and the opportunity to meet other like minded people. To me the summit was everything. There was to be no second prize. My ability, or lack of, to reach the summit would determine the direction that my life would take thereafter. It would quite literally determine my destiny through the course of events that would follow.

Before arriving in Kathmandu I felt little interest in enjoying the scenery, taking photographs or making new friends, although, I'm pleased to say that once there I did plenty of all three. Mera Peak to me was a test. It was a self examination to see what I was really made of. The expectations that I had of myself were extremely high. As I look back over it, those expectations were unrealistic considering that this was my first time in the Himalayas.

Our diary begins in Kathmandu on April 8th and 9th. We spent these two days finalising last minute bits and pieces such as organizing boots, crampons, ice-axes, that sort of thing. It was a fairly lay back couple of days for all of us except Julia. She had to replace every piece of her equipment since everything of hers was lost in transit. Before leaving for the trek we were taken over to Bodhnarth so that the team could be blessed by the Buddhist Lama. It was an eerie experience. I'd seen these ceremonies performed often on the climbing documentaries that I'd collected and studied as part of my mental training. The ceremony, although performed for the purpose of granting us a safe and successful summit, signified for me a point of no return. This was it. I was actually doing it.

April 10th
We all loaded into the bus destined for Jiri. It was an interesting but long day and the trip included two breakdowns. The second of which was a puncture that brought us to rest right out the front of the only tyre repairer for hundreds of kilometres. Coincidence? Hmm. We arrived in Jiri late that afternoon after ten hours on the road.

April 11th
To Shivalaya via Mali
Our first day of trekking was easy and quite relaxed as we left Jiri. Unfortunately there was a lot of haze early in the trek, typical of this time of year. Gunfire in the valley below created a contrast to our peaceful surroundings and reminded us of the tragedy that occurred in Jiri a few days earlier where twenty four people were killed by Maoists. We stopped at Mali which was a village consisting of just a few buildings below the pass to have lunch. Our first night's camp was at Shivalaya, a tranquil village on the river. Mark McNally and I shared chocolate bars with some of the local kids. - altitude at camp 1760m

April 12th
To Dakharpa via Deorali Pass
It was a steep ascent out of Shiralaya as we left camp and continued to remain steep until lunch. We stopped for lunch at Deorali at an altitude of 2710 m. I began to feel a bit sick and decided to skip lunch. Although we weren't all that high I put it down to altitude and that my body was trying to adjust. The second half of the day was mostly downhill .We arrived at camp in Dokharpa and shortly after I became ill and from this point on I was unable to eat properly for well over a week. Mark Daffey and Jim were also experiencing illness. Mark picked up but Jim, like me continued to deteriorate. We all had our fair share of highs and lows but Julia developed an ankle problem that was to last to the summit and back. Julia was a very quiet English lady who had done a lot of trekking around the world but this was without a doubt her toughest challenge. Despite her ongoing setbacks throughout the trek I can't ever remember hearing her complain once. The experience was effecting us all in different ways. - altitude at camp 2070m

April 13th
To Golela via Namkili
Another mostly uphill day. By now Peter was starting to amaze us all. Peter was one of our more senior members who had his own style of trekking. Pete would plod along at the same pace regardless of the conditions. Uphill, downhill, heat, cold it didn't matter. His unique style and the fact that he walked with a long staff earned him a variety of nicknames. "The Messiah" because of the staff, "The Energizer Rabbit" because he just kept going, and I found myself naming him "Tractor Pete" on occasion because he reminded me of an old diesel engine that just keeps chuggin' along. Peter and Mark McNally have been good mates for many years and this was one of many adventures that the pair had undertaken. Mark struck me as a great public speaker. He was remarkably comfortable speaking to the group as a whole and would keep us entertained around the meal table with accounts of the previous treks and adventures that he and Pete had been on. Peter on the other hand was normally quiet but would often break out of his shell and sing us a song or recite "The Man From Snowy River".

We all arrived at camp in Golela on a cultivated ridge with a small Gompa and spectacular views across the valley. This is where we got our first look at Pike(4065m). This would be our first real mountain and the highest that most of us would have climbed to date. Altitude at camp - 3000m

April 14th
To Yak Kharta (camp on Pike)
Pike was to be our first real challenge, and at just over 4000 metres, twice the size of Kosciusko, it was just a foothill by Himalayan standards. We trekked all day, mostly uphill. It's difficult to describe what it was like. It was a constant uphill battle and we weren't even really climbing at that stage. We were still only trekking. The purpose of climbing Pike was twofold. Firstly it was to give us the vital altitude experience that is so essential to mountaineering. Failure to acclimatise properly at altitude is one of the biggest killers in the Himalayas. Secondly it was intended to instill upon us the sensation of summiting a Himalayan peak. It was designed to burley us up for the big one. To sharpen our appetites and remind us of what we'd come here to do. And that it did!

For me this was one of the more demanding sections of the trek probably because by now I was starting to feel the effects of not eating. As we ventured into more remote territory the locals became more and more fascinated with us. Although we couldn't speak each other's languages, the body language and smiles made it very clear that my goatee beard was often a source of amusement. An experience that I will always remember was when I sat down at one stage for a short break and two middle aged village women came up to me. They appeared to be deeply fascinated with me; the clothes I was wearing, my rucksack, my boots, the beard and in particular my watch. Although these two women couldn't speak English there appeared to be very little communication barrier between us. Their body language and facial expressions were so vivid that I could almost tell what they were thinking. It was an experience that became more valuable to me as I thought back over it later.

We continued on and Brad, Julia and I trekked together at the back of the team as we had done for most of the day. With Julia nursing a bad ankle and me feeling run down it seemed the best place to be. Brad and I shared the same tent for the duration of the trek so I got to know Brad fairly well. Brad's an easy going sort of a bloke who only sees the good in people. A rare quality to find these days that made him popular with the rest of the team.

As we arrived at camp it began to snow. This would be our first night at altitude. I woke up in the middle of the night in a bit of a panic with a sort of a suffocating feeling which is a normal reaction as the body begins to adjust to altitude. The following morning was an interesting experience. It was like waking up with a severe hangover, although not from grog. I hadn't touched a drop for months while training and promised myself that I wouldn't touch a drop until after I had summited Mera Peak. This was as much a mental exercise as it was an exercise in helping to maximize my fitness on the lead up. Altitude at camp - 3750m

April 15th
To Junbesi via Pike
This was by far the longest trekking day and for many of us the hardest. By now it was getting serious. We left camp about 7am and headed towards the summit of Pike. This was the highest we had been so far and our first time above the snowline in the Himalayas. Again I was near the back of the team and feeling fairly weak from not being able to eat properly. It was a spectacular day with a clear blue sky. As I neared the summit the entire mountain range came into view all of a sudden. It's a strange thing to describe, you just had to be there. The experience was mind blowing. I stopped and took out my camera and proceeded to take some pictures. My foot gave way on the slippery surface of the mountain causing me to fall flat on my face. My camera hit the only rock in sight damaging the lens, luckily not in a way that would effect image quality. As I let out a roar of colourful language in response to my camera being damaged, Soren came running down. "Are you hurt?" He said." No, worse than that, I've busted the camera!" Suddenly Soren seemed more relieved than I was.

Soren struck us all as the type of person who was born to be a leader. You got the feeling that he could handle just about any situation in the mountains. He treated every team member equally and monitored every team member's progress individually. That would have been a fair challenge for him in itself given that all members were quite different from one another and that my own reasons for taking on the mountain were probably in a category all of there own.

Standing on the summit of Pike was a rewarding experience for us all. We descended down the other side of Pike and began to climb another hill called Phumbuk. It was obvious by talking to John that he was feeling a bit under the weather at this point. "I can't believe I'm finding this so hard." he said. "I really thought I was fitter than this. I trained for a year". I knew exactly how he felt. The same thoughts were going through my own head. John is a tall fit sort of a bloke who has done a lot of marathon running. He's a happy-go-lucky sort of a bloke who was always smiling.

The day wore on and I doubt that any of us except for Soren realized just how tough this day was going to be. Jim was the next to hit rock bottom. His condition was getting progressively worse and he was also having trouble keeping food down. He became very ill that day but made it to camp safely. Junbesi is a very picturesque village with Number towering over it in the background. Altitude at camp - 2675m

April 16th
To Paphlu
This was a fairly relaxed section of the trek and if my memory serves me correctly it wasn't all that difficult. We followed the river most of the way and passed through villages and crossed suspension bridges etc. By now we were back on the main tourist route. We stopped at a paper factory for a while where Mark Daffey and I discussed the technicalities of film and exposures. Mark is also a professional photographer. He specialises in travel mags etc. and was officially covering the trek for several of his clients. I wasn't sure how to take Mark at first but soon discovered that he had a dry sense of humor similar to my father-in-law so I was soon able to relate to him. Mark was renowned for keeping us entertained at meal time with his quick witted, straight faced responses.

We arrived at camp in time to witness how quickly the weather can change in the Himalayas. As we arrived we had a spectacular view of Number. It was a peaceful sight in the late afternoon sunlight, and then in what seemed to me like only a few minutes the mountain disappeared into thick black storm clouds and we could hear the thunder crashing. We watched as the storm moved it's way across the range to eventually envelope Pike, the mountain we had so recently summited. It would have been a very different experience if we were on Pike now. Altitude at camp - 2450m

April 17th
To Ratnangi
Today was a half day off for us. We were not scheduled to leave camp until after lunch since it was only four hours to the next camp. I had laid awake during the night and in doing so had managed to slip into a state of negativity. It had suddenly occurred to me that I was not coping anywhere near as well as I had expected and my inability to eat proper meals was taking it's toll both physically and mentally. I discussed the possibility of leaving the expedition with Soren. I couldn't see the point of going on if I was unable to eat. The terrain would get a lot tougher from here on in. I wondered if it would be wise to admit defeat and pull the plug on it here. Soren talked me into staying one more day before making such a definite decision. I agreed to it and we arrived at camp in perfect view of the peaks. Altitude at camp - 3200m

April 18th
To Wapsa Khani
I made the decision to keep going and decided that if that was to be the case then I would have to start force feeding myself. It would be pointless going on otherwise. Before breakfast we all made a quick dash up the hill behind camp to get some early photos of the mountains. We could clearly see Mera Peak in the distance.

Today was a fairly full day of mixed weather, terrain and scenery. Not long into it we struck torrential rain that kept up for a couple of hours. At one stage lightning struck only a few metres away causing more than a few of us to jump. By the time we'd reached Basa for lunch the weather had cleared. As we proceeded to dry our belongings in the sun a large group of small children gathered. They quietly sat huddled together seemingly mesmerized by us.

Across the valley was obvious evidence of severe deforestation and erosion. It wasn't until we crossed the valley that the magnitude of this erosion became evident. What looked like rocks from our lunch time vantage point were in fact boulders, some the size of an average Australian house. The destruction was massive. Our camp was to be half way up the hill on a terraced patch of ground.

By now we were in real Nepal. These people were obviously very poor. Their livelihoods were derived from small terraced vegetable plots. The houses were built in the traditional way with thatched roofs. But despite these people's poverty they were always smiling. As we set up camp we attracted yet another bunch of kids. And just like all kids anywhere in the world, they wanted to show off and act the goat in front of the new visitors, reminding us all the time that regardless of our race colour or creed we humans are all made of the same stuff. Altitude at camp - 1550m

April 19th
To Pangom
It was a very steep ascent out of camp and continued upward for an hour or so. It was a beautiful day and the scenery at this point was spectacular. The grade began to level out and we passed through several tiny villages.

At one point Brad, Julia and I came face to face with a crazy Water Buffalo that wanted to rip our heads off. Luckily it's owners had it tied to a post by the back leg. I doubt we would have stood much of a chance against the beast had it been loose. Our confrontation became a source of entertainment for a small group of villagers working their crops. I guess we must have looked pretty stupid.

As we trekked further into the remoteness of the Himalayas it's human inhabitants became much fewer. These people were living in much the same way as they had done for centuries. There was no such thing as electricity, running water, telephones or the Internet except at major villages like Pangom where limited running water and power was available. One by one we all made our way into Pangom which was to be our home for the next day. We had earned ourselves a day off from trekking. On arrival I commissioned "Dr. Soren"our leader, medical officer, and jack of all trades to remove a tick that had embedded itself into me along the way. Altitude at camp - 2870m

April 20th
This was our first full day off since the start of the trek and most of us were happy to just sit around doing not much at all. I used the time off as an opportunity to try to eat as much as possible and attempt to regain some physical strength. It also served as a time to psyche myself up for the second and more serious half of the adventure.

Despite having trained for a year and despite the summit being of such importance to me, I was now finding it hard to stay focussed. The trek in is seriously demanding and appears to effect different people in different ways. You are continuously trekking across the grain of the highest mountain range on earth. It is without a doubt trekking at an extreme level. Some might disagree but in my opinion the trek to reach base camp is much more demanding than climbing the mountain itself. (If you are considering Mera, bear in mind that this was my first attempt at this sort of thing. An experienced trekker would find it considerably easier).

April 21st
To 9hr ridgecamp
We left camp early, and Soren mentioned several times that we would be crossing a section that might be a bit tricky. I wasn't too concerned, after all , this was a non technical climb. But what laid ahead would prove to be quite a challenge. (at this stage we were on an alternative route that is considerably more challenging than the standard commercial route).

Shortly after leaving camp we stopped to visit a Gompa and each of us took turns at spinning a huge prayer wheel. We continued to plod upwards and one of our sherpas showed us what he believed to be fresh Tiger footprints. We never actually saw a tiger though. Today's trekking was all uphill and camp would be the highest we'd been since summiting Pike. As we climbed higher in altitude the terrain became trickier and less forgiving. We encountered several situations consisting of steep drops that offered no second chances for mistakes made. There was no choice but to get it right the first time. We continued upward until we reached the snowline. By now we were over the half way mark to Mera and it was clear that the expectations that I had set for myself were far higher than I was delivering.

It's very difficult to prepare mentally for something like this if you haven't done it before. You have no prior experience to base your preparation on. You've just got to roll the dice and see what comes up. Physical preparation is of course a different thing. But twelve months of physical training will not deliver the kind of results you might expect of yourself if your physical training is not linked to an equal amount of mental preparation. There is no doubt that my downfall to this point has been the result of less than adequate mental preparation.

As we reached the snowline we entered a truly spectacular region of cliffs and boulders. The final couple of kilometres to camp required a traverse along the side of a steep mountain. This proved to be a fair challenge for those of us with limited on snow experience but was made doubly challenging by the fact that a thick fog had rolled in cutting visibility to only a few metres. Altitude at camp - 3950m

April 22nd
To Tetraput
For the past two nights I had laid awake with a gut feeling that the climb might end in tragedy. I kept thinking of a conversation that I had with a mate just before I left. He said, " Mate, follow you're instincts and if it doesn't feel right, get the hell out of there". Frank's words were playing heavily on my mind at this point. It had become apparent that I had now stepped into the world of reality. From the previous day's trekking it was clear to me that a crash course in moving about on snow wouldn't do me any harm, especially since we wouldn't be using crampons and ice-axes until we were actually on Mera Peak. As we moved out of camp Soren showed me a few tricks on staying upright and keeping balance. It was a lesson that proved very useful from here on in. The terrain that we encountered after leaving camp was ideal for perfecting my newfound skills. As an inexperienced trekker, I had not yet discovered the benefits of using a trekking pole and as such I trekked the entire journey without one. No wonder I had trouble with balance at times.

All of our trekking today was above the snowline and the clear blue sky that began the day provided some of the best scenery that we'd seen so far. The most physically demanding section was a pass that took us to 4400m. Our highest point to date. The pass was very steep, at times and the snow was knee deep. We resembled a line of snails. None of us could take more than a few steps without stopping. Although steep this wasn't a potentially dangerous section, just a lot of hard work. Descending down the other side however was a different story, at least for me anyway. The descent wasn't very physically demanding but it was very slippery with some huge drops. Again, we were in " no second chance terrain". It was at this point that I felt grateful for the tutoring I received earlier that morning. Of course, not having a trekking pole didn't help matters.

Circumstances can change very quickly in the mountains and you need to adapt quickly to them and recognising the dangers is not always easy. A particular situation might look safe enough but a closer inspection could reveal something very different. There are other situations that are obviously dangerous, like narrow, slippery passes with sheer drops. The kind of thing you only get one shot at. Then there are other situations where your mind seems to play tricks on you. Your mind is convinced that a particular situation is far more dangerous than it actually is. I was about to experience all of the above.

We eventually rolled one by one into camp. Tetraput is the smallest named settlement I've ever seen. It consisted of one human inhabited building and a couple of stone Yak shelters. This tiny establishment is overshadowed by a gigantic boulder about the size of a multi story office building that probably fell from near the summit of the mountain behind thousands of years ago. Each and every member of the team took an instant dislike to Tetraput the minute we laid eyes on the place. It soon became clear that this was the place that all of us would least like to revisit. It just seemed to have a negative feel to it. As well as that it was seriously cold there. Altitude at camp - 4220m

April 23rd
To Kote
Shortly after leaving camp we got our first close up look at the Hinku Valley with Mera Peak dominating the skyline at the head of it. The landscape was becoming more and more spectacular the further in we went and the brilliant white peaks contrasted against the deep blue sky. As we ventured further in the trail became more slippery and much more care was needed to negotiate the passes.

Shortly before arriving at camp we got our first views of the massive destruction that was caused by a recent natural disaster. A few years ago a huge hanging glacier weighing thousands of tonnes just north of Tag Nag broke away and fell into the lake just below it. The enormous impact caused the lakes banks to burst sending millions of litres of water downstream in one go. As the floodgates opened everything in it's path was destroyed. Such was the power of the massive rush of water that boulders the size of buildings were transported downstream effortlessly.

We arrived at camp to find a spectacular view of Mera Peak dominating the skyline in front of us. Altitude at camp - 3600m

April 24th
To Tag Nag
Today was a fairly easy trek and one of the more enjoyable days. We trekked for most of the way along the mass of erosion caused by the disaster. We were trekking around the base of Mera Peak. This was an exciting time for all of us as we were now in the shadow of the mountain that we had come to climb.

Shortly before reaching Tag Nag we stopped at a cave that was occupied by a Buddhist Monk. We all made a donation and each of us received his blessing for a safe and successful climb.

We reached Tag Nag. A tiny settlement at the foot of the west face of Mera. At close range Mera Peak is an intimidating mountain from this angle. Looking at the immense size of it, it was hard to imagine us actually making it to the top but the climbing route is much less intimidating to look at. I remembered what Tim Macartney-Snape said in the documentary he made while climbing Gasherbrum IV. " Divide the mountain into sections and deal mentally with each section at a time." Altitude at camp - 4350m

April 25th
Acclimatization behind Tag Nag
The main purpose of today's exercise was to acclimatize further by climbing to the 5000m mark on a hill behind Tag Nag. It wasn't easy but we all did it. We spent the rest of the day preparing for the climb and resting.

Welcome to Base Camp!

April 26th
To Base Camp (just short of Khare)
After seventeen days of trekking we finally reached base camp. It was without a doubt the most spectacular region of the world I had ever been in up to that point.

But the awesome views were overshadowed by the news that one of the other teams had met with tragedy. One of their specialized high altitude porters had fallen to his death. Given that the climbing route is basically a big sloping ramp, we could only presume that he either fell into a crevasse or slipped at High Camp. By this time our own team was starting to show signs of wear and tear. Two members had decided to pull out with suspected altitude problems. First to pull out was Jim the Englishman. He has climbed mountains before but nothing with this much altitude. He hadn't been well from the start, despite being a strong team member. Second to pull out was Rob. He was developing altitude problems and after witnessing the body of the porter being carried down from the mountain, decided not to risk his life for the summit. We respected both their decisions.

Rob walked passed me at one stage looking an absolute wreck. I was shocked at his condition. I asked if he was OK but he just shook his head and mumbled something as he walked past. I was used to seeing Rob in a different light.

Rob is a remarkably well spoken man and obviously well educated but at the same time, very down to earth. He was very much the team gentleman. Rob and Jim would sometimes have lively debates on such topics as ancient history. I was never really sure who was right and who was wrong but it was fascinating to watch the two brains do battle. Altitude at camp - 4950m

April 27th
Practising on the glacier
Today we made our way to the glacier to practise using crampons and ice-axes and crossing crevasses. A tiring day for all of us.

Rory and Sue, the two New Zealanders were probably the strongest and fittest members of the team. They had been strong right from the start but like all of us fell to illness on occasion. Both had done a lot of trekking over the years and were planning an additional trek straight after Mera Peak.

April 28th
To Camp One (Mera La)
Today was our first day of climbing. But we were to set off with the news that there had been another death on the mountain during the night. A porter from another team was lying dead on Mera La, near Camp One. He had died during the night from altitude related problems.

We set off in fine weather but it began to cloud in as we traveled along the glacier. As we neared Camp One strong winds had developed. To my left, I noticed a mound of snow measuring approximately two metres in length with a porter's carry basket turned upside down at one end. I asked Hira if that was the temporary grave of the porter who died. But I didn't get the answer I was looking for due to a communication breakdown.

Eventually the winds turned into a blizzard and it lasted the whole night. This was the fiercest storm I had ever been in but strangely, it didn't bother me near as much as some situations on the way to base camp. Yet other members were quite concerned about the storm. In the mountains it seems that some people fear by certain situations and some fear others. It depends on the individual and their particular phobias I guess. We survived the night and discovered the next morning that it was a much stronger storm than they usually get.

It turned out that Rob and Jim were very concerned for our safety. They were witnessing the whole thing from base camp. Altitude at camp - 5417m

April 29th
To High Camp
We woke the next morning to views sent by the gods. A total contrast to the previous night. We set off for High Camp early. It was a very difficult climb due to the fact that we were getting into some fairly serious altitude and some climbers were struggling.

By now the oxygen level was about half what it is at sea level. It's a very strange sensation. It's not a vacuum type situation like you would expect. You can breath in and out just the same as you can at sea level. It just doesn't do anything for you. I reached a point where I would count fifteen steps, then stop and rest on my ice-axe. Then take another fifteen, stop, and rest again. This was the kind of situation that I often read about while researching, but to be there doing it is of course a very different thing. I used this stop-start technique to get me the whole way to High Camp.

The views on this section were spectacular. Despite being exhausted, I shot nearly three rolls of film here. As we gained altitude the biggest of the huge came into view. Everest had it's trademark plume of snow and ice crystals streaming from the summit. Also Makalu and Cho Oyu were clearly visible. Off in the distance was Kangchenjunga.

Eventually we arrived at High Camp. What an experience that was!. We arrived to discover that our tents were perched on a series of ledges on the edge of a cliff. Our particular tent was placed in the most 'exciting' position of all. Right on the edge with the entrance facing out over the cliff. There wasn't much room for error getting in and out of the tent. By now we were all getting our last minute lectures and instructions. Tomorrow is summit day. Altitude at camp - 5850m

April 30th
To The Summit
Summit day was possibly the most amazing day of my life. We were woken at 1.30am by a kitchen staff member with tea. He was carrying a kerosene lamp which burst into flames at the entrance of our tent, nearly setting our tent on fire with us in it. I was yelling at him to get it away from the tent, but he couldn't because he was standing on the edge of the cliff and the rocks were icy. He eventually got it under control. About fifteen minutes later he was back with more tea, only this time he slipped on the icy rocks and came crashing through the front of the tent sending tea everywhere. Again, the kero lamp burst into flames, nearly setting the tent alight for the second time. We weren't getting off to a good start.

Eventually, the team got ready and we were divided into two groups. As the team prepared to start climbing, I received what I can only describe as a gift from the Cosmos, and it came in the form of an adrenaline power surge so potent it was to accompany me the whole way to the summit. Where it came from mystifies me still. I was pumped up with adrenaline to a level that I have never felt before or since. Soren was drumming it into us that we had to keep wriggling our fingers and toes. "That is the only way you will prevent frostbite" he kept saying. I was standing in line behind Brad and I passed the comment, "Make sure you wriggle your dick too Brad, you don't want that to drop off." At 2.45am at godknowswhat degrees below zero, Brad broke out in laughter. I guess you just had to be there, but he obviously found some comfort in my attempt at black humor

We began climbing and Brad started to slow down early, so I overtook him and began climbing directly behind Tsumba our team sirdar (sherpa boss). Tsumba made the comment several times " You are very strong today". He knew I was heavily focused on the summit and we broke away from the rest of the team. About half way between High Camp and the summit we came to a crevasse. It was now light enough to see and the crevasse was probably considered small by Himalayan standards. It was about five to ten metres wide and there was a snow bridge linking one side to the other. By this time Ang Kami had joined us and the three of us were a fair way ahead of the team. Ang Kami crossed the snow bridge several times prodding it with his ice-axe to check if it was safe to cross. When he was satisfied, he signaled for me to cross. I stepped onto the snow bridge and went crashing straight through. My immediate reaction was to throw my arms out and try to grab on. I came to rest on my elbows with my ice-axe spanning across the whole for support. Tsumba came running towards me but the instant my oxygen starved brain realised that ninety percent of me was dangling into an abyss, I shot up out of the hole at lightning speed. I was lucky it happened at the start of the snow bridge. Further in would have produced a less forgiving result. As I attempted to cross the snow bridge for the second time knowing full well that the next step could send me crashing through again I was wondering at what point does high adventure stop and madness at high altitude begin.

It was a bizarre feeling but nothing was going to stop me so close to the summit. I'd come too far now. The call of the summit is a powerful thing and to those who have never felt it, it cannot be explained. I considered waiting for the rest of the team but by now I was too far ahead and standing still could bring on hypothermia and frostbite. As it was, my feet were already numb, and I had come to except that the summit could possibly come at the cost of loosing the ends of my toes. Tsumba decided to wait while Ang Kami and I made the decision to continue on.

At high altitude, my own perception of cold was different than at lower altitudes. Closer to sea level we think of cold in terms of discomfort, how cold it makes us feel, how uncomfortable it is. But in extreme cold conditions you think of it more in terms of safety and survival and the comfort side of it sits a bit further to the back of your mind. At least that was how it effected me.

As Ang Kami and I worked our way higher in altitude I found time to take in the spectacular view. The sun had now made it's way clear of the Himalayan giants and sections of the sky were the deepest blue I'd ever seen. To the point of being almost black in places. Without warning I fell through another patch of thin ice. My heart shot up into my throat, then I stopped waist deep. "No worries" said Ang Kami quite calmly. "Is only small, can't hurt you". Eventually we reached the saddle just below the final steep section. I was tired but still pumped and focused on the summit like a missile. Ang Kami insisted that we stop for a drink.

I commented on the Napalese flag that he had flying from his pack. I told him mine was in my pack. "Tony, you must put your flag on outside before you climb to summit". Insisted Ang Kami in his usual style of broken English. "Come, I help you". The confused look on his face told me I should explain why I was carrying the flags of two nations. My father and I have always disagreed on most things through life, but as a boy he taught me two things. To always be proud of my working class background, and always be proud of my Irish heritage. Two attributes that I've always tried to maintain to this day. The Irish and Australian flags to me represented both.

As I began climbing the final section to the summit with both the Irish and Australian flags flying proudly from my rucksack, I could feel the adrenaline surging through my veins. There is something about the Himalayas that virtually grabs you by the balls and drags you up the mountain. At least that was how it effected me on the day. It goes well beyond the written word. By now Ang Kami was on the summit looking down over the edge. Fifteen metres to go....ten metres....five....one.....I'm on the summit!

The final summit approach is so steep it becomes almost vertical near the top. You're using the front points of your crampons to bight in. You experience a kind of sensation as though you're climbing a very, very high ladder, and then suddenly you're there,. you pull you're head up over the edge and there it is. Flat, white and undisturbed with a slight dome to it. The only human evidence being a small monument and Ang Kami's footprints near the edge. The summit of Mera is about the size of a tennis court and is in total contrast to the terrain that you've just climbed to get there.

I stood on the summit, raised my ice-axe high in the air to show the other climbers that I had summited. I then shook hands with Ang Kami my climbing sherpa and thanked him for guiding me to the top. I then drove my ice-axe into the snow and at 7.20am on the 30th of April, 2001, I proudly planted the Irish and Australian flags on the summit of Mera Peak at 6461 metres above sea level. Within the next half hour most of the rest of the team were at the top. We all congratulated one another and posed for the traditional summit photos compliments of our official team photographer, Mark Daffey

April 30th to May 6th
From the Summit back to Lukla
Over the next few days we steadily made our way back to Lukla which marked the end of the trek. We discovered along the way that more disasters had been happening on Mera. One climber had to spend a night in a portable oxygen chamber at 5400 meters, another had fallen and broken both legs somewhere along the way and was waiting to be evacuated. Our understanding was that he was low enough in altitude to get a helicopter in.

One by one we made our way into the bar at the Sherpa Lodge at Lukla and it was here that I broke the drought. I had my first beer since giving it up to climb Mera, something I promised myself I would do after summiting. The party that evolved in Lukla is a night I will always remember. Forty porters, sherpas and climbers all partying together in one small room. None of which had bathed for over a month. We were pissed, we stunk and nobody cared. We were having a ball. We were all from different walks of life, different social groups and different levels of wealth. But we were all equal and we were all mates. The Napalese really enjoy a good party.

Within the next few days we were all on planes heading back to whichever corner of the globe we called home. Rob and I stood down the back of the plane trying to avoid deep vane thrombosis ( economy class syndrome) when Rob came out with the comment " Ah well Tony, here we go back to the world of reality". "No Rob" I replied. "We've just come from reality."

My first experience in the Himalayas came as a shock to the system. A rugged experience and was the most physically and mentally demanding thing I had ever done up to that point, but it was an experience that by the end I knew I could have easily become addicted to. I can now understand why trekkers return to Nepal time and time again, and deep within my psyche I know why mountaineers return to climb bigger and bigger mountains. But ask me why I climb and I can't give you an answer in words. It goes much deeper than words. It's a deep, subconscious, spiritual thing that perhaps we are not meant to understand. At least not at a conscious level anyway.

That was my experience on the mountain, others may have experienced things differently