Read Online A Day to Die For: 1996: Everest's Worst Disaster - One Survivor's Personal Journey to Uncover the Truth by Graham Ratcliffe - Free Book Online
Authors: Graham Ratcliffe
Tags: General, Asia, Education & Reference, Travel, Biographies, Biographies & Memoirs, Memoirs, Adventurers & Explorers, Sports & Outdoors, Specific Groups, Mountaineering, mountain climbing, Nepal
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opportunity for her to dress up and display her femininity. She looked happy and relaxed.
Rum Doodles, a short walk from the hotel, was where 15 of us gathered. Once the barman realised we were recently back from Everest, all summiteers were requested to sign one of the large boards displayed behind the bar. They bore the names of legends; those of Edmund Hillary and Reinhold Messner were easily spotted. Hundreds of signatures of climbers both alive and deceased adorned this Everest archive. Half the fun was to try to pick out who else had stood in the same place over decades of climbing. Alison, given the magnitude of her recent ascent, was asked to go first: a signing that was accompanied by rapturous applause.
I sat next to Alison during the meal. Our conversation covered many topics but quite naturally moved to her planned climb of K2 in Pakistan, where she would be heading in a few weeks’ time. She informed me that she was going back to the UK for 12 days before flying out to Karachi. Curious as to why she was not flying directly from Nepal, I asked her why she was returning home first. Alison looked at me, not quite sure what to say. Her eyes filled with tears. With great decorum she got up and quietly left the table. She did not want me to see her upset.
While she was away, someone nearby explained to me that Alison was trying to find a way to leave her husband. He was at home looking after their two children. She was going back to the UK principally to move out of the family’s temporary accommodation. Alison had found herself and the children a new home; matters were complicated.
Her tears brought with them a stark reminder that those on expeditions to these remote locations had private lives that had been momentarily interrupted. Alas, such personal matters as Alison now faced had only been delayed from their inevitable conclusion. The escape from them had at best been temporary.
I felt terrible for causing her distress, but I’d had no idea of the circumstances. When Alison returned a short while later, we resumed our conversation but on a different subject. The redness of her eyes soon disappeared into laughter as the evening wore on.
The next morning, I met Alison in the hotel lobby. Her climbing equipment was piled up in the reception area in readiness for her departure. She looked uneasy. Whether it was her trip back to the UK or the onward journey to K2 that was the cause, I couldn’t tell. Saying my farewell to Alison, I wished her luck on K2 and told her to keep herself safe.
Alison was to reach the summit of K2 on 13 August 1995 and die the same day. It was three months exactly from her ascent of Everest on 13 May. She was blown off the mountain by hurricane-force winds while making her descent. This I would hear of over the radio as my family and I were driving home from a visit to the south of England. I remember being shocked into disbelief by this tragic news.
I would, in time, discover the sequence of events that had led to her death. She had joined an American expedition, led by Rob Slater, for her attempt on K2. After several weeks of bad weather, which had thwarted them getting to the top of the mountain, half the team packed up and went home. Alison too was coming to the same conclusion and had arranged porters for her imminent departure. She had gathered up her equipment in readiness to leave. However, some 15 minutes before she was due to depart she changed her mind. There seemed to be a glimmer of hope that the weather might be improving. Teaming up with two New Zealand and two Canadian climbers, Alison and Rob Slater decided to give it one last-ditch attempt. Amongst the group was Peter Hillary, son of the late Sir Edmund Hillary.
On 13 August, they left the top camp for the 12-hour climb to the summit. It was mid morning that they approached a steep chute known as the Bottleneck: considered to be something of a point of no return, it involves an exposed ice traverse. Here they met
Rum Doodles, a short walk from the hotel, was where 15 of us gathered. Once the barman realised we were recently back from Everest, all summiteers were requested to sign one of the large boards displayed behind the bar. They bore the names of legends; those of Edmund Hillary and Reinhold Messner were easily spotted. Hundreds of signatures of climbers both alive and deceased adorned this Everest archive. Half the fun was to try to pick out who else had stood in the same place over decades of climbing. Alison, given the magnitude of her recent ascent, was asked to go first: a signing that was accompanied by rapturous applause.
I sat next to Alison during the meal. Our conversation covered many topics but quite naturally moved to her planned climb of K2 in Pakistan, where she would be heading in a few weeks’ time. She informed me that she was going back to the UK for 12 days before flying out to Karachi. Curious as to why she was not flying directly from Nepal, I asked her why she was returning home first. Alison looked at me, not quite sure what to say. Her eyes filled with tears. With great decorum she got up and quietly left the table. She did not want me to see her upset.
While she was away, someone nearby explained to me that Alison was trying to find a way to leave her husband. He was at home looking after their two children. She was going back to the UK principally to move out of the family’s temporary accommodation. Alison had found herself and the children a new home; matters were complicated.
Her tears brought with them a stark reminder that those on expeditions to these remote locations had private lives that had been momentarily interrupted. Alas, such personal matters as Alison now faced had only been delayed from their inevitable conclusion. The escape from them had at best been temporary.
I felt terrible for causing her distress, but I’d had no idea of the circumstances. When Alison returned a short while later, we resumed our conversation but on a different subject. The redness of her eyes soon disappeared into laughter as the evening wore on.
The next morning, I met Alison in the hotel lobby. Her climbing equipment was piled up in the reception area in readiness for her departure. She looked uneasy. Whether it was her trip back to the UK or the onward journey to K2 that was the cause, I couldn’t tell. Saying my farewell to Alison, I wished her luck on K2 and told her to keep herself safe.
Alison was to reach the summit of K2 on 13 August 1995 and die the same day. It was three months exactly from her ascent of Everest on 13 May. She was blown off the mountain by hurricane-force winds while making her descent. This I would hear of over the radio as my family and I were driving home from a visit to the south of England. I remember being shocked into disbelief by this tragic news.
I would, in time, discover the sequence of events that had led to her death. She had joined an American expedition, led by Rob Slater, for her attempt on K2. After several weeks of bad weather, which had thwarted them getting to the top of the mountain, half the team packed up and went home. Alison too was coming to the same conclusion and had arranged porters for her imminent departure. She had gathered up her equipment in readiness to leave. However, some 15 minutes before she was due to depart she changed her mind. There seemed to be a glimmer of hope that the weather might be improving. Teaming up with two New Zealand and two Canadian climbers, Alison and Rob Slater decided to give it one last-ditch attempt. Amongst the group was Peter Hillary, son of the late Sir Edmund Hillary.
On 13 August, they left the top camp for the 12-hour climb to the summit. It was mid morning that they approached a steep chute known as the Bottleneck: considered to be something of a point of no return, it involves an exposed ice traverse. Here they met
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