Illegally on Everest - The Life of the Fourth Man
Introduction
When I met the three somewhat "crazy" US-Americans in Zermatt, I knew: "Now my dream would become reality - to enter strictly forbidden Tibet!"
They would be the first foreigners to reach the north side of Everest. And climb up to the summit there with the simplest of means and perhaps discover traces of the missing Englishmen Mallory and Irvine from the 1920s.
In 1962, I undertook an ascent of Mount Everest with three Americans whom I had met shortly before in Zermatt. This departure to a "promised land", to Tibet, which was still forbidden at the time, was basically an escape for me, combined with the deep hope of a kind of redemption, knowledge, even enlightenment.
The four of us, with a minimum of luggage, tackled the ascent via the north side of Everest after a week-long approach over the glaciers, which were perhaps guarded by the Chinese. The plan was daring, a little crazy, but it was irresistible. Our attempt failed; each of us paid for the risk, each in our own way.
In "Die Alpen", the publication of the Swiss Alpine Club (SAC), we were given a good telling off by the highest Swiss authority on the Himalayas at the time, Professor Norman Dyhrenfurth. The strong reaction came as no surprise, but when you have only just escaped death, you (naturally) hope for a different assessment of what you have experienced. After Dyhrenfurth's 'verdict', however, there was a great silence.
Around fifty years later - the matter now seemed to be ‘time-barred’ - the SAC finally published a report on our expedition. As the only surviving member of our group, I provided information. In the editorial of that issue, my name is mentioned in the same breath as Ueli Steck: Both of us had had to take a lot of criticism with our undertakings. This comparison with the outstanding extreme alpinist was incomprehensible to me. Steck was ambitious, determined, combative and incredibly courageous - I was and I am none of that. Apart from being loners who didn't care about the opinions of others, we probably had little in common.
"Shaking up the comfort zone" was the title of that editorial. That is the inspiring purpose of such expeditions. We would be holding up a mirror to a society that is wandering down well-trodden paths. The interpretation under the fashionable title seems overly pretentious to me. On the other hand, in my life it was really about leaving the ”comfort zone”, namely turning my back on the whole superficial lifestyle of our western world. That world that is constantly expanding its "comfort zone", that part of humanity that does everything it can to increase its often seemingly perverse prosperity. Today, basically everyone knows that we are very determined to destroy our ancient world-historical heritage and jeopardize our own future in the shortest possible time.
And that is the scary thing about it.
1. The backpack
1962
The descent from the Theodul Pass was wonderful - the pass forms the border between Switzerland and Italy. With its high altitude of 3300 m above sea level, it can be reached comfortably on skis and skins in two hours from the Schwarzsee station.
With the sun behind me, skiing down into the valley through the bitingly cold air, with an occasional sideways glance at the majestic Matterhorn - these are liberating days in my life! There is no piste, I can choose the route myself. The untouched snow beneath my skis is a godsend.
I was far away from everything that had tormented me in the past few weeks - the middle-class life as a student and young schoolmaster in a world full of constraints and restrictions.
Here at the foot of the Matterhorn, my soul could heal, breathe a sigh of relief, enjoy - here I was in the world that I want to have around me every day. The mountains with their eternal snow, the ice fields, the glaciers and the longing to climb to the highest point.
The early morning ascent in the icy, dry air had cleansed my lungs, the oxygen had nourished my bloodstream and challenged my muscles. It was exhausting and enjoyable.
Being alone with myself is always a blessing - I'm not a person who likes to be in groups. Solitude gives you space to think. In my head, big goals wander through time. I had to get away - I was drawn out into a world full of the unknown. I needed to challenge myself - but I didn't yet know exactly how and when. Loneliness leaves space to organize the confusing thoughts....