part 2

Up early, and a long line of headtorches work their way down to the dining area. I ram a piece of toast in my mouth and wash it down with water, but can only just stomach it. We set out at about 430 in the dark. it's really cold as start to climb up the steep ground, and i already feel like my toes are freezing. The constant coughing is draining, and it's really uncomfortable as we climb, every breath is hard and every so often I have to stop. Fletch is stamping his feet and I am wriggling fingers as well now, trying to stop frostnip setting in, so it's a welcome relief when the sun starts to come up.

We reach the twin lakes, which are stunningly beautiful, and I remember to look back ast the mountains above Lungden. I try to eat a Strepsil, and vomit it straight back up. I manage to force down a glucose tablet, and we move onto easier ground, where I remove some layers, and take another glucouse tablet.

Five hundred metres above us are the prayer flags of the summit, but the ground is incredibly steep. In places steps are cut into the rock, and it helps, but I'm now climbing in a daze, no-one is speaking, there's just the soun of hard breathing and coughing. We zig zag up but the prayer flags never seem to come any closer.

I am trying to keep a bandana over my face to warm and moisten the air I am breathing, but it feels like it is suffocating me. I pull it off and try and fix it to my pack with a 'biner, but I can't work out how to do it. My brain knows, but the signals to my hands seem to be messed up. I feel punch drunk, and my knees have gone like a new born foal's. I slump back against a rock and Finjo tries to take my pack. I refuse. There's a stand off for a few seconds, then I try to stand up but nothing happens. Finjo unclips my pack and hands it to Sangay. I nod my appreciation, but feel gutted I am needing help so close to the top.

I start off again, unhindered by the 8kg that was on my back, and now it's four breaths and two steps, four breaths, two steps. The air is so thin it's tough to get enough oxygen. Kristin is behind me, and I try to let her pass, but she wants to stay behind me, probably using me to pace herself. 'This is the hardest day of my lie...' she breathes. This is a girl who has climbed Elbrus the highest mountain in Europe. I ask her if she includes Elbrus and she says 'Elbrus was nothing.'

Now Inge-Ellen has had her pack taken as well, she has stomach problems. I try to speak to her, but I just cough up a mixture of blood and gunk, and just try to keep moving. Then I realise I've only got 5 metres to go, and the power comes back on. Over my right shoulder, as I crest the ridge I see Everest. It's enormous. It towers over everything, it's snow streaked granite pyramid distinct and clear against the perfect blue sky. It's glorious. I'm pretty much overcome and lurch out onto the narrow ridge. I'm on top of Renjo at 5400 metres. I don't know how I have accomplished it.

I realise I'm no longer suffering from my usal fear of heights, and stumble around on top for a bit. There's lots of back slapping, hand shaking and a few tears. Lots of pictures are taken, and I sit and suck in the scene. Makalu, Lhotse and Everest dominate the horizon, and there on the left is the huge north face of Cholatse, crossed with seracs and hanging glaciers. One of the most technical climbs in the Himalaya.

I scramble up a bit of rock and put up the prayer flag I had blessed at Kopan before the others arrive, with a couple of names and some thoughts for the future on it. I think Finjo does puja with the others, and I cram inn a Snickers, which I promptly vomit back up. Then we're off. We've been here less than half on hour. But it's enough.

The slope down to Gokyo is steep and loose now it's no longer frozen, Gokyo seems so close, yet the drop is huge. We pick our way carefully down, but I'm too tired to think, and I fall. I skid along on my backside for a good 5 metres before Neema manages to grab my pack and stop me disappearing. I now have a limp and a brusied backside to go with the cough, and then I start sneezing blood.

Seven and a half hours after we leave Lungden we reach Gokyo. The lake is incredibly beautiful with it's glacial green waters standing out in the grey and brown of the rocks.

We get to the lodge and I collapse. It's pretty much and hour before I am aware of anything. I've gone to 5400m on nothing more than a slice of toast, some glucose and a half eaten Snickers.

Fletch's watch says we're burning about 5000 calries a day, and I think I've been eating around 200 for the last 4 days. Essentially I am eating myself. I'm losing weight like anything, and by now pretty much everyone else is sick too. Lon is vomiting through dehydration, and possibly hallucinating, accoriding to Ken.

I manage to eat that evening, a few roast potatoes and i start to feel a bit better. I have some fruit salad from a can. In the evening we go out and watch Co Oyu in the starlight, and take a few pics. It's freezing cold here but stunningly beautiful. I decide to press on, despite this being the ideal place to abandon the trip. Tomorrow should be an easier day on flattish ground, and if I can only eat I should be able to go on.

Finjo congratulates me on getting to the top, my previous high is only 1344m, 4000m below what I achieved today, and by far the lowest altitude any of the team had as a previous record. I'm pleased, content, happy, tired and relieved as I crash out.

One thing is for sure though, next time we go high in a few days I won't wear my trainers. They didn't feel that safe. :)