Seven Summits (30 page)

Along way from the presidential office at Warner Bros. Frank's shining moment, the summit of Vinson. (
Credit: Steve Marts)

A walk in the park, the stroll to the top of Kosciusko, Australia.
(Credit: Dick Bass)

On top down under. Dick (left) and Frank on the summit of Kosciusko, 7,310 feet.
(Credit: Dick Bass collection)

“To strive, to seek …” David Breashears (in the lead) and Sherpa Ang Phurba leave the South Summit toward the Hillary Step.
(Credit: Dick Bass)

“To find …” Breashears in the Hillary Step, elevation 28,800 feet.
(Credit: Dick Bass)

“…and not to yield.” Seven Summits fulfilled, Dick Bass on top of Everest April 30, 1985.
(Credit: David Breashears)

Safely back in Base Camp, the Icefall behind, Dick and Breashears toast to success.
(Credit: Dick Bass collection)

Dick follows through his promise to throw a no-holds-barred bash. Snowbird, August 1985.
(Credit: Rick Ridgeway)

Victory is sweetest to those who have tasted defeat.
(Credit: Rick Ridgeway) (Mickey Mouse Character ©Walt Disney Productions)

The Impossible Dream.
(Credit: Rick Ridgeway)

He found a packet of powdered lemonade to doctor his water bottle, then looked around the tent for lunch. One plastic food bag produced a packet of M&M’s and a granola bar, another a handful of mixed nuts, Rye Krisp crackers, and a can of tuna. It wasn't caviar, but to Dick it was a king's feast. With lunch finished, he lay back and took a nap, waking about a half hour later. He looked out, but no sign of Frank. It was time to head back. He strapped on his empty pack, clipped a safety link to the fixed rope, wrapped the rope around his arm and behind his back to brake his descent, walked to the edge of the platform bulge, and lowered down the forty-five-degree slope.

A hundred yards below camp he met Frank coming up the rope.

“You're not far now, Pancho.”

“Don't think I can make it. Too tired. I’m turning back.”

Frank rested his arms on his knees. He was breathing deeply and rapidly, and Dick could see the red scarf around his neck was soaked with sweat. Frank had pushed himself as far as he could go.

“Don't worry about it, Frank. We'll just consider this an acclimatization exercise. Next time you'll zoom right up.”

“Hope you're right.”

At camp 2 Phil Ershler had followed through the telescope Frank's snail's pace up the ropes, and his failure to reach camp 3.

“Two things bother me,” Ershler told those standing around the telescope. “First, if we go to the trouble of putting in another high camp, Frank will never get that high to use it. Second, if somehow he does get that high, there's a good chance he's going to kill himself.”

“He really has no business going above the South Col,” one of the others said.

“But I can't tell him he can't go. We all agreed everyone gets a chance on this climb,” Ershler answered.

“At least we're obligated to tell him how we feel. Maybe we can even talk him out of it.”

“I guess it's worth a try,” Ershler said. “Let's have a meeting tonight.”

Frank and Dick returned late that afternoon, and although Frank was obviously pooped, after a couple hours’ rest he seemed recovered, even feisty. Ershler announced a meeting after dinner. Following the meal, then, everyone stayed in the mess tent waiting for Ershler to open the discussion. Looking around, it was easy to spot those on the team who had just returned from the summit. Cracked lips, chapped cheeks, drained faces. Nielson was the worst. In addition to his general fatigue and his cracked ribs, he had sustained further damage to his already frostbitten feet, so he was planning on descending the next day to base camp. The others on the first team were planning on going down, too.

“Let me start by saying you guys turned in a poor performance today,” Ershler told Frank and Dick. “You didn't even get out of camp here until after eight.”

“How could we leave on time when the cook sleeps in?” Frank countered. “That one's hardly our fault.”

“Okay, but the fact remains you couldn't get to camp three, and I don't think it makes sense to ask our Sherpas to carry supplies to a camp five if you can't get up there to use them. And that's only half of it. Even more, and I think all the others in the tent here agree with me, if you guys go above the South Col, there's a good chance you won't come back. Look at these other guys. Nielson's half-dead, Roach and Jamieson hardly have the strength to get from their tent to here. And these are tough hombres.”

Dick winced. He was being included in this critique even though he was sure it was Frank that the criticism was directed at. He decided it would be more politic, though, not to say anything, at least for now.

Frank was also quiet, staring at the makeshift table littered with dinner leftovers, not angry but pensive.

When Ershler was finished Frank looked up, and in a calm voice said, “Fellas, you may not fully understand what this climb means to me. I’ve sacrificed a lot for this, in terms of money, job, the strain on my family. But I’ve figured it was worth it all because it was a dream I’ve carried now for thirty years. A lifetime dream, to reach the top of Everest, to climb the highest mountain in the world. Now it's even more, it's a double lifetime dream because it's part of the whole Seven Summits. So you fellas have got to keep that in mind, you've got to know that I only want one thing from you, and that's my fair shot at the summit. And now that we've got this far, you just can't pull the rug out. We made a deal at Snowbird. I’ve volunteered to go last, without any other climbers than the Sherpas.”