"Like running a 5-minute mile while breathing through a straw..."
Thinking about Mt. Everest, many geologists may ask if Mt. Everest is the highest mountain ever? Statistically speaking, this is unlikely but practically speaking, such a highest mountain wouldn't be much higher in today's geologic framework. From a geologist's perspective, the Himalaya are part of a larger system of mountains that also includes the Karakoram, Tien Shan, Hindu Kush, Pamirs, and Plateau of Tibet that is collectively known as the Himalayan Uplift. They were created by the northward collision of India into Asia. Under normal circumstances, such a collision would create a period of mountain building, but would subsequently stop after India is integrated as a part of Asia, the adjacent oceanic plate decouples, and the northward movement is transfered to subduction along the Indian coast. This is what happened in the past along the west coasts of South America and North America, but for unknown reasons, it has failed to occur in India. Some geologists speculate that the unusual shape of India's coastline, which looks like a dagger projecting into the Indian Ocean and makes it geometrically difficult for the Indian Ocean plate to decouple. Others point to the relatively old age of the rocks that compose the Indian subcontinent making them colder and stronger. If the Himalaya didn't exist, the highest mountain in the world would be less than 7,000 meters high. Some geologists have found evidence that the near-9,000 meter height of Everest is an aberration even for the Himalaya and that they were more in the neighborhood of 6,000-7,000 meters high in the past.
The 14 highest mountains in the world, all of which occur in the Himalaya, are known as the 8,000 meter peaks. Climbing all 14 of them is considered by many as the holy grail in alpine mountaineering. As of 2013, 31 climbers had accomplished this feat versus over 1,000 for the more well known Seven Summits. The reason why the 14 8,000-ers are so much more difficult is simple mathematics: the probability of success is as low as 20% (K2) and the probability of dying is as high as 38% (Annapurna). About half of the deaths are due to objective hazards - hazards that are beyond the control of the climber meaning that even the strongest, most experienced climbers can be just as vulnerable to these hazards as relative novices. For the climber seeking to collect all 14 of these summits, this means that they are in a fight against statistics and they're more likely to die before reaching their 14th summit. Compared with the 31 climbers who have reached the 14 summits, over 700 have died.
The 14 highest mountains in the world, all of which occur in the Himalaya, are known as the 8,000 meter peaks. Climbing all 14 of them is considered by many as the holy grail in alpine mountaineering. As of 2013, 31 climbers had accomplished this feat versus over 1,000 for the more well known Seven Summits. The reason why the 14 8,000-ers are so much more difficult is simple mathematics: the probability of success is as low as 20% (K2) and the probability of dying is as high as 38% (Annapurna). About half of the deaths are due to objective hazards - hazards that are beyond the control of the climber meaning that even the strongest, most experienced climbers can be just as vulnerable to these hazards as relative novices. For the climber seeking to collect all 14 of these summits, this means that they are in a fight against statistics and they're more likely to die before reaching their 14th summit. Compared with the 31 climbers who have reached the 14 summits, over 700 have died.
Cho Oyu: 8,201 meters; 26,906 feet
From childhood, I dreamed of climbing Mt. Everest but considered such an endeavor unattainable. By the 1990s, however, the advent of guided mountaineering in which professional guides organize and lead climbing expeditions for relative amateurs gave me an opportunity. Rather than climb Everest, I chose its next door neighbor Cho Oyu, sixth highest mountain in the world. Aside from not having the title of climbing the highest mountain in the world, climbing Cho Oyu offered the same experience as Everest for a quarter of thc cost. Moreover, for reasons that will be explained later, your chances of reaching the summit of Cho Oyu are much better than for Everest and your chances of dying are somewhat lower. Cho Oyu is often referred to as the easiest 8,000 meter peak, but "easy" is a relative term. During the Fall 2000 season when I climbed Cho Oyu, 230 climbers attempted the mountain, 60 made the summit, and 4 died.
Although amateurs have made the summit of peaks like Cho Oyu, experience does make a big difference. It's analogous to soldiers entering combat - you can give a novice a gun, send him to battle, and he may be successful, but his chances of dying, being wounded, or losing the battle are much greater than fully-trained troops. Despite having 15 years of winter mountaineering experience, big mountain experience on Mt. McKinley and in the Andes, and climbing with experienced guides, Cho Oyu challenged me like no other peak I've climbed before or since.
Although amateurs have made the summit of peaks like Cho Oyu, experience does make a big difference. It's analogous to soldiers entering combat - you can give a novice a gun, send him to battle, and he may be successful, but his chances of dying, being wounded, or losing the battle are much greater than fully-trained troops. Despite having 15 years of winter mountaineering experience, big mountain experience on Mt. McKinley and in the Andes, and climbing with experienced guides, Cho Oyu challenged me like no other peak I've climbed before or since.
The 8,000 meter peaks are in a class of their own because they are so deadly. On Annapurna, for example, one climber dies for every three that reach the summit. Besides the normal hazards of climbing that everyone is familiar with (falling, avalanches, etc.), the combination of weather and extreme high altitude are what makes these mountains so difficult to climb.
To begin with is the weather. The Himalaya essentially have two seasons: winter and summer. Weather during the summer is dominated by heavy snowfall which create suicidal avalanche conditions. Consequently, you can't climb during the summer.
Winter isn't any better - the 8,000 peaks of the Himalaya rise high enough to pierce the jet stream. In the summer, the jet stream migrates north, but during winter it migrates over the Himalaya where winds blow across the upper flanks of Cho Oyu at 200 km/hr with temperatures dropping to -40 degrees. Consequently, it's impossible climb in the winter as well.
To begin with is the weather. The Himalaya essentially have two seasons: winter and summer. Weather during the summer is dominated by heavy snowfall which create suicidal avalanche conditions. Consequently, you can't climb during the summer.
Winter isn't any better - the 8,000 peaks of the Himalaya rise high enough to pierce the jet stream. In the summer, the jet stream migrates north, but during winter it migrates over the Himalaya where winds blow across the upper flanks of Cho Oyu at 200 km/hr with temperatures dropping to -40 degrees. Consequently, it's impossible climb in the winter as well.
It's during the transition from winter to summer and summer to winter that a series of weather windows, during which skies are clear and winds are calm, open up and allow climbers to sneak up to the summit. These weather windows last anywhere from a few hours to up to a week. How long these windows will last is impossible to predict, but if the jet stream were to move on the mountain while you're close to the summit, conditions can get deadly very fast. During some seasons on Everest, these weather windows may not appear at all and instead winter transitions to summer or vice versa in a matter of hours denying those climbers who spent a fortune in time and money a shot at the summit. By virtue of being 600 m lower than Everest, the weather windows on Cho Oyu tend to last longer and are virtually guaranteed to appear during any given season.
Altitude is the most unique and deadliest danger on the 8,000 meter peaks. The air pressure is less than a third of the pressure at sea level. The minimum air pressure in which your body can survive indefinitely is slightly less than 50% or equivalent to 5,200 m high (this is why you will not see permanent human settlements above that altitude in the Himalaya or Andes). When you ascend above that altitude, your health will go into a state of decline of which death is the inevitable result.
Your body responds to the reduced oxygen levels by shutting down less vital functions such as the immune system and the digestive system. The thinner air impairs your body's ability to make heat making you highly vulnerable to hypothermia. Himalayan climbers must wear full down suits at all times even though temperature is balmier than Alaska's Mt. McKinley where a down jacket is only needed for rest breaks. The decline in health isn't linear, but rather logrithmic - the higher above 5,200 meters you ascend, the more the decline in your health accelerates. Above 8,000 meters, your health deteriorates so fast that you cannot live for more than a few days at a time. This is why the air above 8,000 m is also known as the Death Zone. Within the Death Zone, climbers unexpectedly die from altitude-related illnesses such as pulmonary edema, cerebral edema, stroke, or thrombophlebitis. Altitude can be very insidious in the Death Zone with perfectly healthy climbers going to sleep one evening only to be found dead the next morning. Up there, it often feels like there's a real-life boogy-man up there.
Your body responds to the reduced oxygen levels by shutting down less vital functions such as the immune system and the digestive system. The thinner air impairs your body's ability to make heat making you highly vulnerable to hypothermia. Himalayan climbers must wear full down suits at all times even though temperature is balmier than Alaska's Mt. McKinley where a down jacket is only needed for rest breaks. The decline in health isn't linear, but rather logrithmic - the higher above 5,200 meters you ascend, the more the decline in your health accelerates. Above 8,000 meters, your health deteriorates so fast that you cannot live for more than a few days at a time. This is why the air above 8,000 m is also known as the Death Zone. Within the Death Zone, climbers unexpectedly die from altitude-related illnesses such as pulmonary edema, cerebral edema, stroke, or thrombophlebitis. Altitude can be very insidious in the Death Zone with perfectly healthy climbers going to sleep one evening only to be found dead the next morning. Up there, it often feels like there's a real-life boogy-man up there.
Cho Oyu is located on the Nepal-Tibet border about 15 miles west of Mt. Everest. The standard route of ascent, the West Ridge, is approached from Tibet. It takes about 6 weeks to climb Cho Oyu - most of that time is spent in Base Camp waiting for your body to acclimitize to the altitude. Over the course of those six weeks, we hauled equipment and supplies progressively higher on the mountain as our bodies acclimitized. This culminated in the summit bid on week six.
Life in Base Camp is rather cushy for climbing, but it's what you call home for six weeks. Here you can see our Sherpa cook Pemba who served us the most delicious meals. To cook for us, Pemba attended a cooking school in Kathmandu where learned to cook American style. Cooking American style, he said, consisted of deep frying everything. We also had access to a hot shower, but that required Pemba heating some water and pouring it into a hudson sprayer where we could take a shower in a separate tent with the floor cut out.
I have found that climbing is one of the most effective ways of bonding with the local population. We spent many hours talking about life in the U.S. vs life in Nepal. Pemba is from a small village in the Khumbu region which has no electricity, running water, or phones. When his employer in Kathmandu wants to hire him to cook for a climbing expedition, he posts a telex in a village that has a phone. Pemba walks several hours to this village to check for messages on the bulletin board. If he receives one, he walks back home, packs his bag, and walks 12 hours to the nearest road where he catches an 8 hour bus to Kathmandu. If his employer needs him in a jiffy, he can walk 6 hours to the village of Lukla where he catches a plane to Kathmandu.
I have found that climbing is one of the most effective ways of bonding with the local population. We spent many hours talking about life in the U.S. vs life in Nepal. Pemba is from a small village in the Khumbu region which has no electricity, running water, or phones. When his employer in Kathmandu wants to hire him to cook for a climbing expedition, he posts a telex in a village that has a phone. Pemba walks several hours to this village to check for messages on the bulletin board. If he receives one, he walks back home, packs his bag, and walks 12 hours to the nearest road where he catches an 8 hour bus to Kathmandu. If his employer needs him in a jiffy, he can walk 6 hours to the village of Lukla where he catches a plane to Kathmandu.
Before we can proceed beyond Base Camp, our Sherpas hold a puja ceremony, a Bhuddist ceremony that is predicated on the belief that the summit is occupied by spirits that will become angry if you climb the mountain. The puja is an attempt to placate those spirits with offerings of food and prayers. The Sherpas can be superstitious about climbing. Among the taboos that they frown on is having sex above Base Camp, an act they refer to as "making sauce". Another inauspicious act they frowned upon is when an Iranian expedition slaughtered a yak in Base Camp for meat.
The Sherpas are the true heros of the Himalaya hauling most of the equipment and supplies to the upper camps. They are also amazingly strong and climbing with them is almost like playing basketball with NBA players. Their presence fattens the margin of safety.
The Sherpas are the true heros of the Himalaya hauling most of the equipment and supplies to the upper camps. They are also amazingly strong and climbing with them is almost like playing basketball with NBA players. Their presence fattens the margin of safety.
Beginning on week 2 and with the puja ceremony complete, we begin hauling equipment and supplies to the upper camps. Our expedition starts towards the end of the summer monsoons which are continuing to dump large amounts of snow on the upper flanks of the mountain. The strategy is that when the monsoons end, hopefully by around week 4 or 5, we will be sufficiently acclimitized to make a shot at the summit.
The route to Camp 1 is a long scree slog up the Gyabrag Glacier followed by a steep scree scramble up the West Ridge itself. Altogether, we made five trips to the upper camps making it as high as Camp 2. The purpose of these trips was not only to haul equipment up the mountain, but to also accelerate the acclimitization process.
The route to Camp 1 is a long scree slog up the Gyabrag Glacier followed by a steep scree scramble up the West Ridge itself. Altogether, we made five trips to the upper camps making it as high as Camp 2. The purpose of these trips was not only to haul equipment up the mountain, but to also accelerate the acclimitization process.
Camp 1, at 21,000 feet, is where the real climbing begins. Even after acclimitizing for 2 weeks at Base Camp and a week before that traveling across Tibet, life at 21,000 feet is hard. Your appetite is so badly impaired that eating a single serving of instant noodles is like trying to eat 10 Big Macs at sea level (yuck!). Altitude impairs not only your appetite, but your taste for food so that even chocolate doesn't look appetizing. Sleep is also difficult since altitude short-circuits your body's desire to sleep. During our first night at Camp 1, I was the only one who got any sleep (but only an hour or two of decent sleep) and was proud when my tent mates complained that I was snoring the previous night.
Other effects of altitude included a persistant desire to vomit. One morning, I discharged my entire breakfast at Camp 1, very annoying considering what a struggle it was eating and getting it into my stomach in the first place. Another annoyance was an insatiable dry cough that every climber gets at altitudes above 20,000 feet called the Himalayan hack.
Other effects of altitude included a persistant desire to vomit. One morning, I discharged my entire breakfast at Camp 1, very annoying considering what a struggle it was eating and getting it into my stomach in the first place. Another annoyance was an insatiable dry cough that every climber gets at altitudes above 20,000 feet called the Himalayan hack.
It's around mid-September that the monsoons suddenly dissipate and the first weather windows appear. Here you can see Cho Oyu at dusk after the monsoons have cleared out. Up until now, the mountain was always covered in heavy clouds with heavy snowfall even at Base Camp.
The Koreans are the first to make a summit attempt, but the snow at the top is so deep that they're unable to make the summit. However, another team was able to put a couple people on the summit a few days later. By September 20, we decide to make our summit bid with the hope of summiting on September 24. Although the monsoons have redeveloped over the mountain when we leave, it is hoped that another window will open up by the time we're in position to make a summit attempt.
The Koreans are the first to make a summit attempt, but the snow at the top is so deep that they're unable to make the summit. However, another team was able to put a couple people on the summit a few days later. By September 20, we decide to make our summit bid with the hope of summiting on September 24. Although the monsoons have redeveloped over the mountain when we leave, it is hoped that another window will open up by the time we're in position to make a summit attempt.
Here we are on day 2 of our summit bid at about 22,000 feet and heading up to Camp 2. You can see the tents of Camp 1 below. Breathing becomes progressively harder as we climb higher. At this altitude, we are stopping after every step to take one or two deep pressure breaths. At sea level, the hike from Camp 1 to Camp 2 would take an hour. At this altitude, however, the climb takes about 6 hours.
Right where this photo was taken was a dead body. Fortunately, it was buried under meter or more of snow so we couldn't see it. We knew it was there because one of our guides saw it during the previous Spring. The family of the dead climber contacted him to see if he could recover the body, but under so much snow and so high up on the mountain, it was impossible to bring it back down.
Right where this photo was taken was a dead body. Fortunately, it was buried under meter or more of snow so we couldn't see it. We knew it was there because one of our guides saw it during the previous Spring. The family of the dead climber contacted him to see if he could recover the body, but under so much snow and so high up on the mountain, it was impossible to bring it back down.
Camp 2 is located just above 23,000 feet. The monsoons have once again cleared out and the weather is perfect for a summit bid. Summit day for us is still two days away and we pray to the weather gods that our weather window will hold just 48 more hours.
Yes, that's a snowboard in the foreground. With long, steep slopes with up to 1,500 meters of vertical, Cho Oyu is one of the most popular peaks for high altitude skiing and snowboarding. While we were there, we watched two snowboarders perform a gutsy jump off some seracs on a steep icefall. Not long after I climbed Cho Oyu, a skier managed to accomplish the first ski descent of Mt. Everest.
Yes, that's a snowboard in the foreground. With long, steep slopes with up to 1,500 meters of vertical, Cho Oyu is one of the most popular peaks for high altitude skiing and snowboarding. While we were there, we watched two snowboarders perform a gutsy jump off some seracs on a steep icefall. Not long after I climbed Cho Oyu, a skier managed to accomplish the first ski descent of Mt. Everest.
The next day, we head up to Camp 3, our final camp before heading for the summit. Here you can see Camp 3 with the tents of Base Camp on the far left of the photo (barely visible) about 2,000 meters below.
At 7,500 meters, Camp 3 is right at the fringe of the Death Zone. Beginning here, we break out the bottled oxygen and begin using it. Life in the Death Zone means that you will lose some brain cells in the process. Using bottled oxygen minimizes the loss. The most critical time to use oxygen is at night when your breathing rate deecelerates and your oxygen intake declines, sometimes to dangerously low levels. This is why so many deaths occur during sleep.
Sleeping on bottled oxygen at 7,500 meters, however, is incredibly uncomfortable. Condensation inside the mask dribbles down your face and into your sleeping bag. None of us got more than an hour of quality sleep.
Although more and more climbers decline to use bottled oxygen, I chose to use it simply because it increases the margin of safety in the Death Zone. Some of the risks are subtle, for example, it is known that high altitude impairs higher brain function. Especially impaired are 'if-then' functions in the brain: if it's cold, then you put on a sweater, for example. However, the "then" rationalization often fails to trigger at high altitude. While on Cho Oyu, I saw a German climber freeze his hands solid because he lost gloves. Even though he had a spare pair in his pack, it didn't occur to him that he should put them on. Moreover, his partners failed to offer him their spare pairs or remind him to put something on his hand. This seemingly trivial oversight would eventually cause him to lose his hands.
Bottled oxygen also makes you less vulnerable to hypothermia. In this photo you can see that I'm wearing a full down suit on a sunny day. Even with all this clothing on, I would start to get cold as soon as I stopped for a rest break. This means that it wouldn't take a very large storm to get a lot of people into trouble.
Sleeping on bottled oxygen at 7,500 meters, however, is incredibly uncomfortable. Condensation inside the mask dribbles down your face and into your sleeping bag. None of us got more than an hour of quality sleep.
Although more and more climbers decline to use bottled oxygen, I chose to use it simply because it increases the margin of safety in the Death Zone. Some of the risks are subtle, for example, it is known that high altitude impairs higher brain function. Especially impaired are 'if-then' functions in the brain: if it's cold, then you put on a sweater, for example. However, the "then" rationalization often fails to trigger at high altitude. While on Cho Oyu, I saw a German climber freeze his hands solid because he lost gloves. Even though he had a spare pair in his pack, it didn't occur to him that he should put them on. Moreover, his partners failed to offer him their spare pairs or remind him to put something on his hand. This seemingly trivial oversight would eventually cause him to lose his hands.
Bottled oxygen also makes you less vulnerable to hypothermia. In this photo you can see that I'm wearing a full down suit on a sunny day. Even with all this clothing on, I would start to get cold as soon as I stopped for a rest break. This means that it wouldn't take a very large storm to get a lot of people into trouble.
As we climbed higher and higher on the mountain, the views open up. Here you can see the Plateau of Tibet from about 8,000 meters. The valley floors in this photo are about 4,300 meters high.
THE SUMMIT! The summit of Cho Oyu is actually a large plateau with the high point located at the far end. The march across the plateau is a long, grueling slog and at this altitude, I have to stop after every step to take 5 or 6 deep pressure breaths. Here, I feel like one giant lung whose sole purpose is to breathe. People seem think that the summit is the place where you feel ecstatic and want to jump for joy. However, the only thing I feel is a sense of relief that I do not have to climb uphill any longer.
I only spent 5 minutes on the summit and that time was spent taking photos and shoving as much food and water down my throat so I would have enough energy for the descent. I soon began to get cold and that was my que to shove off. The exhilaration of reaching the summit is tempered by the fact that the most dangerous part of the climb is ahead of you: the descent. Moreover, the weather window that allowed us to reach the summit was coming to an end with the jet stream moving over the summit. As I stood on the summit, temperatures were dropping and were actually colder than it was at Camp 3 when we left at 1 AM. Within hours of departing the summit, winds began to kick up and no one was able to reach the summit the next day.
I only spent 5 minutes on the summit and that time was spent taking photos and shoving as much food and water down my throat so I would have enough energy for the descent. I soon began to get cold and that was my que to shove off. The exhilaration of reaching the summit is tempered by the fact that the most dangerous part of the climb is ahead of you: the descent. Moreover, the weather window that allowed us to reach the summit was coming to an end with the jet stream moving over the summit. As I stood on the summit, temperatures were dropping and were actually colder than it was at Camp 3 when we left at 1 AM. Within hours of departing the summit, winds began to kick up and no one was able to reach the summit the next day.
You know you've reached the true summit of Cho Oyu when you can see Mt. Everest. Unfortunately, all of my summit photos came out dreadfully overexposed, a consequence of my oxygen-starved brain. When I set up my camera for the summit shots, I forgot the adjust the f-stop. This photo comes courtesy of Kurt Wedberg.
What also amazed me about Cho Oyu is when I was climbing the Yellow Band, a cliff at just below 8,000 meters, I stared at the fossils of creatures that once thrived at the bottom of a tropical ocean.
To understand how mighty the Himalaya are, imagine if you to build a concrete pyramid as high as Mt. Everest in Florida. The endeavor would be far and away, the single largest engineering project ever undertaken and would cost the equivalent of several years of America's GDP. The cement required to build a man-made Everest would be enough to pave all of the United States in 25 cm of concrete. And and yet, the Himalaya comprises the equivalent volume of millions of Mt. Everests.
What also amazed me about Cho Oyu is when I was climbing the Yellow Band, a cliff at just below 8,000 meters, I stared at the fossils of creatures that once thrived at the bottom of a tropical ocean.
To understand how mighty the Himalaya are, imagine if you to build a concrete pyramid as high as Mt. Everest in Florida. The endeavor would be far and away, the single largest engineering project ever undertaken and would cost the equivalent of several years of America's GDP. The cement required to build a man-made Everest would be enough to pave all of the United States in 25 cm of concrete. And and yet, the Himalaya comprises the equivalent volume of millions of Mt. Everests.
Here you can see the view west from the west edge of the summit plateau - that's Shisha Pingma, another 8,000 meter peak, in the distance.
In contrast to Western attitudes towards climbing which views reaching the summit of a mountain as equivalent to conquering it, the Sherpas believe that you reach the summit because the mountain permitted you. I am forever grateful that Cho Oyu permitted me to stand on its summit and feel its greatness for a few moments.
Much has been said about how the Himalaya are continuing to rise. However, that is something of a fib. In fact, the forces of erosion are in constant assault of the growing ramparts of the Himalaya and right now, geologists believe that the forces of erosion are bringing down the Himalaya just as quickly as India's northward movement brings them up. This is a condition known as dynamic equilibrium. Thus, only a change in the nature of the forces of erosion or in the forces of uplift will cause the Himalaya to rise higher.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: My expedition was organized by Eric Simonson of International Mountain Guides who assigned Tap Richards and Heidi Eichner as the guides of my expedition. I am also appreciative of my climbing partners Joe Coughlin and John Matthews, but the greatest kudos goes to our Sherpas: Kami, Pemba, Penuru, and Karsang. Climbing with them stands out as one of my most memorable cultural bonding experiences.
In contrast to Western attitudes towards climbing which views reaching the summit of a mountain as equivalent to conquering it, the Sherpas believe that you reach the summit because the mountain permitted you. I am forever grateful that Cho Oyu permitted me to stand on its summit and feel its greatness for a few moments.
Much has been said about how the Himalaya are continuing to rise. However, that is something of a fib. In fact, the forces of erosion are in constant assault of the growing ramparts of the Himalaya and right now, geologists believe that the forces of erosion are bringing down the Himalaya just as quickly as India's northward movement brings them up. This is a condition known as dynamic equilibrium. Thus, only a change in the nature of the forces of erosion or in the forces of uplift will cause the Himalaya to rise higher.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: My expedition was organized by Eric Simonson of International Mountain Guides who assigned Tap Richards and Heidi Eichner as the guides of my expedition. I am also appreciative of my climbing partners Joe Coughlin and John Matthews, but the greatest kudos goes to our Sherpas: Kami, Pemba, Penuru, and Karsang. Climbing with them stands out as one of my most memorable cultural bonding experiences.
Logistics
So you want to climb Mt. Everest? Despite stories of guides taking climbers who had never even put on a pair of crampons, most reputable guide companies require a minimum level of experience. Generally speaking, prospective climbers should be accomplished alpine mountaineers with at least one big mountain experience (such as McKinley, Aconcagua, or a lower Himalayan peak) under their belt. No, Kilimanjaro does not count. If you find Everest to be too extravagant, a lower 8,000 meter peak offers the same experience at a fraction of the cost. Besides Cho Oyu, Shisha Pingma, Broad Peak, and Gasherbrum II regularly see guided ascents. Manaslu, Dhaulagiri, Makalu, and Gasherbrum I also occasionally see guided ascents.
Organizing your own expedition will require your full-time commitment for at least several months, and all that effort could be derailed if you don't clear all that red tape required to get into the country and climb the mountain. For Nepalese peaks, there are some Kathmandu businesses that will expedite that red tape for you, but ultimately, the tab may end up being more expensive than climbing with a guide. For those of you who think guides are for whimps, guide services offer the non-guided option in which their companies organize all your logistics for you, including tents, equipment, food, and sherpa support, but leave you on your own to climb the mountain. However, if you're looking for bragging rights of having climbed without a guide, many climbers do not consider this option as truly climbing unguided.
For those of you who would love to climb a Himalayan peak but not necessarily one that's over 8,000 meters, there are an infinite variety of lower peaks ranging in height from 5,000 to 7,000 meters that are quick, enjoyable, and easy. Many of these peaks require minimal mountaineering experience and you may have the whole mountain to yourself. These peaks are a lot cheaper: to encourage more tourism, the Nepalese government announced that they will waive permit fees for a number of lower peaks.
Organizing your own expedition will require your full-time commitment for at least several months, and all that effort could be derailed if you don't clear all that red tape required to get into the country and climb the mountain. For Nepalese peaks, there are some Kathmandu businesses that will expedite that red tape for you, but ultimately, the tab may end up being more expensive than climbing with a guide. For those of you who think guides are for whimps, guide services offer the non-guided option in which their companies organize all your logistics for you, including tents, equipment, food, and sherpa support, but leave you on your own to climb the mountain. However, if you're looking for bragging rights of having climbed without a guide, many climbers do not consider this option as truly climbing unguided.
For those of you who would love to climb a Himalayan peak but not necessarily one that's over 8,000 meters, there are an infinite variety of lower peaks ranging in height from 5,000 to 7,000 meters that are quick, enjoyable, and easy. Many of these peaks require minimal mountaineering experience and you may have the whole mountain to yourself. These peaks are a lot cheaper: to encourage more tourism, the Nepalese government announced that they will waive permit fees for a number of lower peaks.