Read Online Peak by Roland Smith - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Roland Smith
Tags: Fiction, General, Coming of Age, Bildungsromans, Action & Adventure, Family, Juvenile Fiction, Survival, Survival skills, Young Adult Fiction, Sports & Recreation, Parents, Boys & Men, Miscellaneous, Mountaineering, Survival After Airplane Accidents; Shipwrecks; Etc, Everest; Mount (China and Nepal)
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tapping on keyboards, they didn't seem to notice us. None of them looked like climbers.
"What is all this?" I asked.
"This is what happens when you get old and start worrying about your future." He pointed to a pudgy guy talking on a satellite phone. "That guy over there is my business partner, Thaddeus Bowen. The rest of the people are support staff. There is another bunch of them back in the office in Chiang Mai, and some up on K2 and Annapurna."
"You're running three expeditions at the same time?"
He smiled. "Get this: Most of our clients are rank amateurs—some haven't been higher than twelve thousand feet. Stupid, huh? But I'm not alone. There are at least ten commercial operations like this at Base Camp. Some of them are running four separate expeditions. Things have changed since your mom and I were living out of the back of that rusty old van at El Cap."
When he said that he had clients I assumed he meant experienced climbers, nothing like this.
"People!" Josh said. "This is my son, Peak."
I felt a flush of pride. Some of them nodded, some smiled, though none of them fully stopped what they were doing. Thaddeus walked over, covering the mouthpiece of his satellite phone.
"How'd George take the news?"
"He took a punch at me," Josh said. "Says he's going to sue."
Thaddeus rolled his eyes. "Great. I'll call our attorney and tell him to get ready." He walked away resuming his phone conversation.
A woman came over and handed Josh a sheet of paper. "The film crew should be here later this afternoon. And I finally tracked down the whereabouts of Holly Angelo."
The name sounded familiar to me, but I couldn't remember where I'd heard it.
"Where is she?" Josh asked.
"She's with the film crew," the woman answered. "Apparently she came in on the same flight. The film crew is threatening to murder her. She brought along her own personal chef and massage therapist, and so much gear they had to rent a second truck."
"I told her she couldn't bring anybody," Josh said. "And to travel light."
"She didn't listen," the woman said. "She's also found out that you have an opening on your climbing permit. She wants to go to the top."
Josh swore. "How'd she find out about that?"
"Word travels fast at high altitudes."
"She's here to cover Peak, not herself."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I'll tell you about it later," Josh said distractedly. "Can you reach her on the sat phone?"
"If she's not in the middle of a massage," the woman answered, then started punching in numbers.
Josh turned to me. "I need to take care of this. There's a spot for your tent next to mine. The blue one out back. Why don't you go out and get set up."
Sun-jo helped me haul my gear and set up the tent. When we finished we took a little tour.
Now, you might be thinking that Base Camp on Everest would be one of the most pristine places on earth. The truth is that you have to watch where you step. And here's a tip: Avoid digging up yellow snow to melt for your drinking water. At ten degrees below zero no one strays far from his tent to take care of business. Everest Base Camp is a frozen outhouse/garbage dump with decades of crap, discarded food containers, and busted gear. I had read that some of the climbers and Sherpas were trying to clean it up, but by the looks of the camp they hadn't made much of a dent. Sardine cans, chip bags, cartons, toilet paper, and other trash blew around the tents like tumbleweed.
Climbers from all over the world were here. Japan, Bolivia, Mexico, Italy, Canada, Luxembourg ... There were women's teams, military teams; there was even a team made up exclusively of people over fifty. (They had a placard outside their camp that read: THE GERIATRIC TEAM. BEWARE OF GRUMPY OLD CLIMBERS !)
You could pick out the commercial climbing operations by the size of their tents and their camp spots, which were usually the best on the slope. I counted eleven of them, and that's when it began to dawn on me that Josh might be just as
"What is all this?" I asked.
"This is what happens when you get old and start worrying about your future." He pointed to a pudgy guy talking on a satellite phone. "That guy over there is my business partner, Thaddeus Bowen. The rest of the people are support staff. There is another bunch of them back in the office in Chiang Mai, and some up on K2 and Annapurna."
"You're running three expeditions at the same time?"
He smiled. "Get this: Most of our clients are rank amateurs—some haven't been higher than twelve thousand feet. Stupid, huh? But I'm not alone. There are at least ten commercial operations like this at Base Camp. Some of them are running four separate expeditions. Things have changed since your mom and I were living out of the back of that rusty old van at El Cap."
When he said that he had clients I assumed he meant experienced climbers, nothing like this.
"People!" Josh said. "This is my son, Peak."
I felt a flush of pride. Some of them nodded, some smiled, though none of them fully stopped what they were doing. Thaddeus walked over, covering the mouthpiece of his satellite phone.
"How'd George take the news?"
"He took a punch at me," Josh said. "Says he's going to sue."
Thaddeus rolled his eyes. "Great. I'll call our attorney and tell him to get ready." He walked away resuming his phone conversation.
A woman came over and handed Josh a sheet of paper. "The film crew should be here later this afternoon. And I finally tracked down the whereabouts of Holly Angelo."
The name sounded familiar to me, but I couldn't remember where I'd heard it.
"Where is she?" Josh asked.
"She's with the film crew," the woman answered. "Apparently she came in on the same flight. The film crew is threatening to murder her. She brought along her own personal chef and massage therapist, and so much gear they had to rent a second truck."
"I told her she couldn't bring anybody," Josh said. "And to travel light."
"She didn't listen," the woman said. "She's also found out that you have an opening on your climbing permit. She wants to go to the top."
Josh swore. "How'd she find out about that?"
"Word travels fast at high altitudes."
"She's here to cover Peak, not herself."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I'll tell you about it later," Josh said distractedly. "Can you reach her on the sat phone?"
"If she's not in the middle of a massage," the woman answered, then started punching in numbers.
Josh turned to me. "I need to take care of this. There's a spot for your tent next to mine. The blue one out back. Why don't you go out and get set up."
Sun-jo helped me haul my gear and set up the tent. When we finished we took a little tour.
Now, you might be thinking that Base Camp on Everest would be one of the most pristine places on earth. The truth is that you have to watch where you step. And here's a tip: Avoid digging up yellow snow to melt for your drinking water. At ten degrees below zero no one strays far from his tent to take care of business. Everest Base Camp is a frozen outhouse/garbage dump with decades of crap, discarded food containers, and busted gear. I had read that some of the climbers and Sherpas were trying to clean it up, but by the looks of the camp they hadn't made much of a dent. Sardine cans, chip bags, cartons, toilet paper, and other trash blew around the tents like tumbleweed.
Climbers from all over the world were here. Japan, Bolivia, Mexico, Italy, Canada, Luxembourg ... There were women's teams, military teams; there was even a team made up exclusively of people over fifty. (They had a placard outside their camp that read: THE GERIATRIC TEAM. BEWARE OF GRUMPY OLD CLIMBERS !)
You could pick out the commercial climbing operations by the size of their tents and their camp spots, which were usually the best on the slope. I counted eleven of them, and that's when it began to dawn on me that Josh might be just as
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