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An Everest Survivor
An Everest Survivor
An Everest Survivor
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An Everest Survivor

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Reaching the summit of Everest is a great achievement; getting down safely is even greater.
Until 1996 one climber would die out of six, most of the time during their descent.
Hugo Rodriguez Barroso proudly waved the Mexican flag on the top of the world on May the 23rd of 1997, at 2:12 p. m. Hugo became at that moment the first athlete in the world to accomplish the huge challenges of long distance swimming and mountain climbing: the solo swim of the English Channel and the summit of Mount Everest, a conqueror of both sea and land.
After reaching the summit Hugo faced an unpredicted situation of extreme survival under difficult circumstances: with no oxygen, no tent, no sleeping bag at 28,000 feet caught in a storm that would take the temperature down to 49 °F below zero. From Camp Four the news spread across the mountain all the way down to Base Camp and to the world; Hugo had perished, no one had ever survived a single night at such altitude under such conditions. Back in 1996 several climbers had been trapped in South Col to die in an event still considered the greatest tragedy in History of Everest.
But the unthinkable happened, something never ever seen before. In a journey into himself that at times verged on delirium, Hugo not only survived one whole night above 28,000 feet in Everest but, near dawn, he climbed down to Camp Four, which for any other individual would have been impossible to perform after being at extreme altitude for more than 34 hours.
Was it his willpower, his determination or his impeccable training? Or was it an exercise of certainty? Perhaps none of the above would have occurred if at the time he hadn’t managed to become one with the mountain.
While Hugo, a brave Mexican and human being, goes on the tale of his climb to the highest mountain in the world, we will be led along an experience that for sure will invite us to reflect, and certainly, to make us become one with Everest.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateSep 21, 2015
ISBN9781310527715
An Everest Survivor

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    An Everest Survivor - Hugo Rodríguez Barroso

    An Everest Survivor

    by

    Hugo Rodríguez Barroso

    Al rights reserved.

    © Hugo Rodríguez Barroso, 1997, 2002.

    © 12 Editorial, AC., 2015 for Smashwords distribution.

    Cover picture: © Björn Olafsson.

    Cover design: © Alan Guillermo Sánchez Castillo.

    Translation proofing: Kah-Boone Chow.

    First English edition: September 2015.

    This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    - o -

    To God and the mountains.

    To my beloved Aída, to my father, to Martha.

    To my mother, siblings, nieces, nephews, and family.

    To my bosses, teachers and friends.

    To those who have made me a better person.

    To Sherpas.

    - o -

    Content

    Preface

    The Beginning

    Base Camp

    The Puja

    End of Acclimatization

    Moving to Camp Two

    The Attempt

    Namaste

    Preface

    Around 4:30 a.m. during an unforgettable day, my joints were hurting as never before. I had just woken up a couple of hours back to walk towards the light brown bench I was sitting on. The walk had not been easy at all; it was filled with plenty of pain, a lot of sadness. What had happened? I didn’t really know, at least not at that moment. I realized I had failed, despite a whole year of hard training, despite the hard effort to make a long journey all the way to where I was to pursue my goal.

    It was dark, one hour before dawn. It was cold, the wind was blowing hard. A sound so soft that it was close to silence, mixing with the grey waves breaking on the shore and rushing back into the sea. Nature’s splendor gave my mind a quick escape, even when unpleasant thoughts would have taken me down to earth in no time. It was painful to be in touch with reality again. I knew everything had ended, everything had come crashing down. I would much rather immerse myself into the tranquil scenery of the various shades drawn with the landmarks and lights from the docks of Dover.

    Less than eight hours before I had been swimming the English Channel, making a solo attempt from France to England, in a journey of 11 hours and a half. The conditions had been adverse, the water colder than usual, 55 degrees Fahrenheit, sometimes dropping down to 52 with a heavy swell, as it gets worse during the last three hours up to 7 feet and mist during a large part of my swim.

    I had been two miles short to the other shore after swimming 32 miles. I had quit due to hypothermia. Actually, my coach Margarita Nolasco had taken me out of the water after noticing me from the boat, getting lost inside myself, deep in thought. I had simply lost consciousness, fallen asleep while swimming - painlessly and peacefully.

    While sitting on the bench flashing on the sky turning golden as the sun rose on the morning of September 1st of 1985, I must admit that I was desperately searching for an answer. I was searching for someone to blame. Yet, I was responsible for what had occurred. In the end, I understood I had to turn my failure into success; remaining unarmed in forefront of such an event would mark me as a loser forever, in a way that it was my moral duty to work harder to reach my goal compounding the experience. One year later, I successfully swam across the English Channel.

    How odd! The latter thoughts crossing my mind at the same time I felt the wind blowing and the cold rising. Dusk was not far. However, there were no waves, nor sea. In front of me was snow, ice and a magnificent mountain. Would I be on the edge of the last two miles once more? I was at 26,000 feet above the sea level in Everest, where South Col is born from Camp Four, on May the 22nd of 1997, late in the afternoon. I was about to attempt the summit push. How wonderful! That’s what I was there for. But somehow I felt uncomfortable, and soon, very tired. Could it be the altitude? No, it was a throat infection I had suffered from a month earlier. I began running a fever almost immediately. When I became weaker, my fear was that my desire to climb would simply slip away. I would not be able to climb any higher. I just could not believe it, just before the most important climb of my life. My teammates in the expedition would leave for the summit within the following five hours while I was sick. I didn’t know if I should join the summit group, wondering if it was the sensible thing to do. What was I supposed to do? Soon I would make one of the most important decisions of my life.

    I slept a handful of minutes after taking a pill for headaches, the only medicine I had, to wake up again totally exhausted. It was 7:00 p.m., Jon hadn’t yet resolved whether we would climb or not due to the wind gaining strength. I went back to sleep once more. At 9:00 p.m. it was confirmed that the group would attempt the summit. How would I feel if I banded together? I was in limbo; an hour later I opened my eyes to make a decision.

    I thought of my previous two years of hard training, as well as the hard sledding done getting to The Himalayas. I thought of the two months at the Khumbu moving loads and acclimatizing. I remembered my family, my friends and sponsors. At that point I revealed that if I didn’t take this opportunity, there would not be another one this season… nor this year… probably, never ever again.

    The Beginning

    On Saturday, March 15th, I was at Mexico City International airport just about to board the plane flying nonstop to Frankfurt at 8:50 p.m. My mother together with Aida whom I have admired the most in my life were there, with some other good friends to say goodbye and to wish me the best of luck in this new amazing adventure. I had to go to Gate 21. Just right after I said goodbye a never known emotion invaded me to remind me that indeed I was heading to Everest. It was a quick but difficult farewell.

    While in the plane, many thoughts appeared over and over again, even those prior to my departure, the rush and trouble to head to The Himalayas. I was relaxed with no stress no more for I had finished all the arrangements. Somewhere in the back rows Andres Delgado was sitting. Once in Frankfurt we would join Viviana Bravo, Carlos Guevara and Luis Corona. I had met Carlos and Luis two months before in a short chat at La Joya, the base of Iztaccíhuatl, a beautiful mountain of 17,500 feet in Mexico.

    Andres a 27-year-old climbing guide in the Mexican volcanoes and Aconcagua, had climbed Cho Oyu of 26,900 feet through the North Ridge Route, and tried Broad Peak of 26,395 feet through the Northeast Spur. A year before he had joined a German commercial expedition to Everest through the North Ridge. Unfortunately, his climb had failed after suffering frostbite on his feet when he got trapped at the highest camp. His fellow team members and the Sherpas helped him out. Viviana a 25-year-old brunette, brown eyes, friendly face and strong character, who had studied English Literature in Lausanne Switzerland was dating Andres. I had met her a year before. She was a nice person and spoke both English and French fluently. It seems her likes were dancing and rock climbing.

    We waited in Frankfurt for five hours to connect to Kathmandu, the capital city of the Kingdom of Nepal our final destination. We arrived at 9:30 a.m. on the 17th. Kathmandu is also known as Katnipur that originates from the words kath (wood), and mandir (temple). Kathmandu is close to the Vishnumati and Baghmati rivers at an altitude of 4,346 feet. Nepal is located in the core of The Himalayas, between India (to the South) and China (to the North). It is 500 miles long from East to West, 155 from South to North with a total area of 87,295 square miles and a total population of 21 million growing at a rate of 2.3% per year, a birthrate of 39% and a mortality rate of 13%. The average population density is around 142 people per sq. km. where 12% of the people live in the main cities such

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