Seven Summits (51 page)

But how? He was still playing in his venture capital schemes, but he wasn't sure that would lead to anything. He kept reminding himself of what his friend had told him several months before, that “You won't believe what will come in over the transom.”

Frank just hoped he didn't have to wait too long for something to wash aboard. Not that he wasn't enjoying his relative hiatus. It was great to be able to spend an occasional weekend with friends, or get away with Luanne for several days of skiing.

“Why don't you and Luanne come out to Snowbird,” Dick offered. “In fact, why don't we get Emmett and his family. And Ridgeway and Chouinard, and their families. Why heck, Pancho, let's get everybody who was on the Seven Summits. I mean we'll still have that big banquet once I climb Everest, and that'll still be the end to our film, but meanwhile let's have a kind of pre-reunion reunion.”

Dick invited everyone who had been on any of the Seven Summits expeditions, and over fifty RSVPed yes. Bonington and Kershaw would fly in from London, Jennings from Jakarta. Even one of the two Alaskans we had met on Aconcagua said he would fly down from Anchorage.

With so many coming from all directions, Dick realized it was a perfect opportunity to fulfill the obligation he felt toward Marty. He well remembered that conversation with her on Aconcagua, back in January 1982, when she had said that if she should make a big mistake on Everest, she didn't want any tearful ceremony. She wanted an Irish wake with everyone partying into the wee hours.

So in addition to the Seven Summits crowd he invited Marty's mother and father, and all her friends at Snowbird. Dick opened the party with an introductory speech about how his mentor Marty was responsible for whatever success he had achieved on the Seven Summits. Then the drinking and dancing started and lasted late into the evening. At sunrise all the group, along with the ski patrol, rode the aerial tram to Hidden Peak at 11,000 feet—the high point overlooking the resort—and fired a twenty-one-round salute with the 75mm gun used for avalanche and slide control.

For the next four days we skied all day, showed slides and movies of the Seven Summits climbs in the late afternoon, and socialized into the night. As will always happen with a gathering of mountaineers, there were endless stories. The Alaskan from the Aconcagua climb had one none of us had heard:

“Remember that Korean who disappeared after he had reached the summit,” he told us. “The one we all thought was dead? Well, they found him—alive. Seems he took a wrong turn coming off the summit and descended into this uninhabited valley and had to walk out. He was still wearing his street shoes when some peasant farmers found him eight days later wandering, jabbering incoherently.”

The Alaskan paused, then concluded, “Boy, you sure meet some weirdos down there.”

The reunion lasted five days. We hated to see it end, but as Dick promised, there would be an even bigger party when he got back from Everest.

Now all he needed was another chance.

In mid-March, about a month after the reunion, Dick heard back from Yogendra.

“I have a new plan,” Yogendra explained long-distance. “For several years now some of us in the Nepal police have wanted to organize a clean-up expedition on Everest. We would go up the mountain and clear off all the litter and oxygen bottles, and then go to the summit. If you could support us with money and equipment, maybe we could make such an expedition this fall. We should have a good chance with the permit.”

Dick immediately grasped the possibilities. Not only was this another chance at Everest, but equally as important, supporting a cleanup of the mountain would be good exposure and publicity for the mountaineering school and center he was planning for Snowbird.

“Heck yes I’ll help you!”

As soon as he was off the phone with Yogendra, Dick called Frank.

“Yogendra says we'll clean all the way to the South Col,” Dick told Frank, “and from there we'll go up to get Mrs. Schmatz down. And as long as we're that high, we might as well go ahead and nail the summit.”

“And there's no problem being there the same time as the Dutch?”

“Evidently not.”

“Sounds good,” Frank said. “Just one thing, though. You'd better get it this time. I just got news from Giles Kershaw that this Pat Morrow fellow is chartering the Tri-Turbo to go to Vinson in November this year.”

“How's he paying for it?”

“Sounds like he has somebody with a lot of bucks who is underwriting in exchange for a ride to Antarctica.”

“Well, I’ll still get up Everest before he gets up Vinson.”

“But only by two or three weeks.”

“That'll be perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“It'll make a race out of it, Pancho, with me crossing the finish line just ahead of him. Why, think of how it will spice up our movie. I’m telling you, we're going to have a blockbuster.”

Dick was excited. All the pieces were fitting together. Well, almost all the pieces. There was still one piece missing—Frank.

But there had been no change in Luanne's view and as much as Frank would have loved to go with Dick, he knew it was only fair to Luanne not to push the issue. She had certainly fulfilled her half of the deal by enduring her lonesome vigils those eleven months out of the last twenty-four or so that he had been away on expeditions.

Frank did have one consolation, however. Luanne had no objection to an idea he had to hike into base camp and meet Dick as he came off the mountain. That way at least he could be with his buddy to celebrate that joyous moment when he walked out from the Icefall for the last time. It was an exciting prospect, and it gave Frank something to look forward to.

The rest of that spring of 1984 Frank kept himself busy dabbling in his venture capital projects, and also fund-raising for the Mondale campaign. Meanwhile, in May, I got the commission to write this book. I needed to spend several days interviewing Frank and Dick, and it was a challenge to get them in the same place at the same time. We met a few times in California, then the three of us got together again the first part of August in Snowbird for my last interview the day before Dick was to leave for Everest. That evening we had a pleasant farewell dinner at one of Snowbird's fine restaurants.

“Dick, there's one thing I’ve got to tell you before you leave,” Frank said. “I got some intriguing news today. You know how I’ve been working on some venture capital deals lately, meeting all kinds of fascinating people along the way. Now something interesting has possibly come out of it. You know the Bass family out of Fort Worth has become heavily invested in Disney, and there have been all those upheavals there lately in upper management. Well, they are in touch with me and want to talk. It may lead to something.”

“Like what?”

“Don't tell anybody, but they're talking about the presidency of Disney.”

“Frank, that's absolutely fantastic,” Dick said.

“The only bad thing is you know it'll mean I can't come to base camp to see you if it really happens.”

“I know, Frank, but listen, this is far better. I mean, you don't need another hike to base camp. You need a big challenge, Pancho. Man, I’m telling you, if they really want to talk to you, why, we'll
both
have summits to ascend.”

The next morning we drove down to the Salt Lake City airport and each caught flights in different directions. Frank took a plane east to meet with a top associate of the Fort Worth Bass family. I headed back to Los Angeles to work on the book, and Dick, joined by Breashears, Neptune, and fifteen friends of Dick's who were along for the trek to base camp, caught a plane to Seattle, where they connected for the long flight to Asia.

On arriving in Katmandu, they were met by Yogendra and told that most of the police cleaning-team was already in base camp acclimatizing and starting to gather litter from around the base of the Ice Fall. He would be involved leading an all-woman police team attempting nearby Lobuche Peak, but would proceed to Everest base camp as soon as he finished his obligation of overseeing their expedition.

“So everything is in order,” Yogendra told Dick, “except for one small problem.”

“What's that?”

“There may be a misunderstanding with the Dutch. They are complaining about our expedition.”

“I thought you had received permission.”

“We will take care of it, don't worry. But right now, because the Dutch have complained, the Ministry of Tourism has asked us to be off the mountain by September fifteenth.”

“Good grief! We can't climb the mountain that fast,” Dick protested.

“We will take care of it. So day after tomorrow you and your group fly to Lukla and proceed to base camp.”

Because the monsoon rain had closed the dirt landing strip to fixed wing aircraft, Dick and his people flew out in two big Puma helicopters. From Lukla they trekked up the Khumbu and arrived in base camp on August 18. Now the plan was for Dick, Neptune, and Dick's trekking friends to spend a few days making a practice climb up 20,306-foot Island Peak while Breashears and a few top Sherpas began work on the Icefall.

Island Peak is located a little down the Khumbu, and after climbing it several days later Dick was on his way back to base camp when he met the Dutch team in the Sherpa village of Pheriche. He actually was glad to see them, thinking it would be a good chance to have a friendly chat and iron out whatever problems might be brewing. He found Plugge and Timmers in a Sherpa tea house looking tired from the long trek from Katmandu. Since their team was too big for helicopters, they had walked the 125-mile distance.

“Howdy, you all. Good to see you. How was the trek?”

“What are you doing here?” Plugge and Timmers said in unison.

“I’m here with the Nepal police cleaning expedition. You know that.”

“This cleaning expedition is just an excuse to get you on Everest again. We have the permit and we don't want anyone else on our route until we're through.”

Dick knew his best strategy was patience. He offered them a beer, but they both declined without even a thank you. Dick made a few more attempts to break the ice, but to no avail. Finally, he left, and as he resumed the walk back toward base camp, he could feel that all-too-familiar knot in his stomach.

Here I am going for Everest and still can't escape the human barriers, he thought.

At least back in base camp the news was better. The day after Dick arrived, Breashears and his Sherpa team completed the route through the Icefall, an impressive mountaineering achievement considering it only took them five days. Still, it was progress clouded by uncertainty over what the Dutch would do when they arrived.

The Dutch pulled into base camp two days later, setting up their tents a few hundred feet from the police cleaning expedition. They kept to themselves, and since things at least for the time being seemed peaceful, Dick decided he would keep to his original plan, which was to make a conditioning climb up the Icefall the next morning.

He left camp at 4:30, following in single file Breashears and Neptune. The millions of stars glowed brightly through the rarefied night sky. It was a crisp, clear dawn, and Dick was elated to be “back in the harness again,” feeling stronger than he ever had at the beginning of a climb.

They reached camp 1 at the top of the Icefall, dumped their loads, and started down. The noontime sun shone with a vengeance, and his legs sometimes would posthole up to his crotch in the softening snow. Back in base camp Dick went to his tent to put on some fresh clothes, as Breashears and Neptune stopped by the mess tent where they found Plugge and Timmers waiting for them.

“How is the Icefall route?” Plugge asked Breashears in a pleasant tone.

“The Sherpas think we've got a good one. Should be easy to get supplies up to one.”

Breashears was relieved that the Dutch seemed in a good mood. They chatted for a while, and then the Dutch got up to leave.

“Just one thing, though,” Timmers said. “We want to make sure you know that you have to be off the mountain by September fifteenth.”

No one said anything. Then Timmers added, “And since it doesn't make any sense for us to build a second route through the Icefall, we will use yours.”

When the Dutch left, Breashears blew up.

“It'll be a cold day in hell before I let those bastards use our route,” he said.

Dick was upset when he got to the mess tent and heard the news.

“Sounds like they're trying to be a steel fist in a velvet glove,” he said. “Yogendra ought to be handling this. I’ll head down to Lobuche in the morning and talk to him.”

The base camp of the all-woman police team attempting nearby Lobuche Peak was about a day's walk down-valley.

“Don't worry,” Yogendra said after Dick had located him. “We won't allow the Dutch to use our Icefall route unless they show us cooperation. Otherwise, they can put in their own route. Be patient. Things will work out.”

Dick was not fully confident, yet he felt he had no choice but to put his faith in the police. Yogendra had gotten him into this, and Yogendra would have to get him out.

Dick returned to base camp disappointed that Yogendra would not come and get directly involved until the police women had finished Lobuche.

The Dutch opted for putting in their own Icefall route (probably to remain free of any police pressure), and things rolled along the next several days without any conflict as they completed their base camp and acclimatized.

On September 5 Dick and Breashears met them, however, supposedly establishing their own route through the Icefall. Instead of staying at least fifty feet away, as the police prescribed, the Dutch route was being laid out almost coincident and even criss-crossing the police route in places. Evidently, this first exposure to the Icefall dampened their nationalistic pride about putting in their own route all the way up the mountain, but it didn't dilute their intransigence about the police being off the mountain after September 15 and until the Dutch had finished summiting.

The police decided, therefore, to enforce their position in the matter by patrolling the lower entry to the police route with rifles slung over their shoulders.