Into Thin Air: Death on Everest Page #3

- Dale is the best friend I've ever had.

You would have done the same thing.

- You make it okay?

- I'm fine!

- How is Dale?

- Alive.

Any problems, Scott?

Looking strong, Andy.

Peaking at the right time.

Yeah, no worries.

You know, I should think we're going

to knock this big bastard off.

You don't look happy.

You run your crew as you see ft.

And here comes the "but."

But Lopsang cannot perform...

and carry 80 pounds

of Sandy Pittman's gear.

- He says he can.

- He'll say anything you want to hear.

- You're his hero.

- What do you want me to do?

I've got a client who's got a job to do.

She needs the equipment.

- It's dangerous.

- I know what I'm doing.

- Do you?

- Yeah.

What happens if Lopsang folds?

What happens if he can't fx the ropes?

Not going to happen.

I'm telling you, mate.

Dump the blasted equipment.

Can't.

Can't, or won't?

Leave it, Lopsang.

Beck, what time you got?

Up you go, Krakauer.

Everest cannot be beaten

into submission.

You have to humor the mountain,

then sneak to the summit...

when it's not looking.

By now, the altitude

was a malevolent force...

a vise squeezing tighter and tighter

on my lungs and brain.

We all had intense headaches

that wouldn't quit.

It felt like someone had driven a nail

into our skulls.

Attempting to climb Everest

is a completely irrational act.

Hey, why don't you stop and rest?

Excuse?

Stop. Just rest. Sit down.

I am 47 years old.

I'll be oldest woman...

to climb Everest.

I must.

Must!

As you ascend into thin air...

you discover that humans

are not meant to be here.

The wreckage of those who had come

before us was everywhere.

A mailman from Seattle.

A couple from Aspen.

A businesswoman from Japan.

A New York socialite.

And a freelance writer.

We are all equal in the Death Zone--

confused as children,

drowning in our own juices.

Doug.

How's the barometer?

Holding steady.

We leave at midnight.

Climb all night...

Get to the summit...

summit by 2:
00 P.M. turnaround time.

I hate this.

The altitude?

The mountain.

What it's making me do.

You're doing it, Doug,

not the mountain.

The mountain's got a hold of me.

- All right, Beck?

- Yeah, Andy. Let's go.

Yasuko. Your torch.

You okay, Scott?

Yeah.

All right.

Time to go.

We called ourselves a team,

but above 26,000 feet...

there was no such thing.

From this point on,

it was each climber for himself.

I put my pen and notebook away

long ago.

Now, like the others, my thoughts

were focused on the summit.

The last thing I wanted was to get

stuck in the Death Zone at 28,000 feet--

cruising altitude of a 747.

Jon!

Wait. Wait!

Rest. We must rest.

It's Pittman.

She's being short-roped by Lopsang.

Rob.

Wait up.

What's wrong?

It's my eyes.

I can hardly see.

What?

I had eye surgery

a few years ago.

I believe the altitude's causing this

as a side effect.

- A little late to be telling me that.

- I didn't know.

You're a doctor.

Of course you knew.

Rob, I didn't know.

I would not lie to you.

I think about a half an hour

it will clear up.

You stay here.

I'm ready to roll.

No arguments, mate.

You don't move.

Stay here and wait for me.

I'll be back for you.

I'm sorry.

No worries, mate.

Come on.

Now promise me you'll stay here.

Promise me, Beck.

Cross my heart and hope to die, huh?

We'll be back.

Hey, Krakauer!

What? Yeah.

What's Ang Dorje doing all alone

at the base of the step?

The last obstacle before the summit

was the infamous...

Hillary Step, the steepest

and most treacherous pitch...

on the entire mountain.

A group this big had no hope

of climbing it without fixed lines--

ropes anchored into the mountain

beforehand...

by Sherpas Ang Dorje and Lopsang.

Ropes.

Where are the fixed ropes?

Cannot fix rope alone.

Lopsang, I wait for him,

but he's too sick.

Carry too much.

Not enough oxygen...

and pull up woman

part way up the mountain.

What's wrong?

Where are the ropes?

Ang Dorje...

couldn't do it alone.

Let's do it ourselves.

We're burning daylight.

Two hours.

All we got is two hours.

We'll get them fixed,Jon.

One, two, three. No problem.

Andy.

We have to fix the ropes.

It's fixed!

I won't have enough oxygen

to get down.

This is bad.

It's real bad.

Come on, Krakauer!

It's straight to the summit

from here!

All right. Let's do it.

You guys better get moving.

Some climbers are getting closer.

We go.

As I approached the summit,

there was room...

in my oxygen-starved mind

for only a single thought--

putting one foot

in front of the other.

At this altitude,

it's the same for everybody.

Anatoli Boukreev,

one of the world's strongest climbers.

Or Andy Harris, a guide

on Everest for the first time.

Our brains were functioning

on the level of reptiles.

Our bodies were as ravaged

as the terminally ill.

Krakauer.

- Take a picture.

- Yeah.

This is for the people

of my homeland.

Where are your clients?

They are fine.

They come.

Hey, Andy.

You okay?

You okay?

Only halfway, mate.

Halfway.

Got to get down yet.

Oh, God.

Too many climbers.

I'll never get down.

Krakauer, what's wrong?

It's a traffc jam.

We can't get down.

The rope is our only way down.

They'll never make the summit.

I'm using up my oxygen too fast.

Turn it down.

You turned my gas down, right?

Yeah, I got it.

This feels good.

Looking good, Pittman.

Keep coming.

Doug!

It's turnaround time, mate.

Not again. No, Rob.

Please. Don't do this to me.

Listen to me--

Come on. Let me finish this thing

once and for all.

I'm responsible for you.

You're the one who talked me

into coming back this year.

You promised me

I'd make it to the top.

I never promised.

Why doesn't he go by the time?

It's clear. We can get down now.

Let's go.

Can't breathe!

It's empty!

Keep it together.

Desperate for air, dizzy...

terrified of blacking out

and tumbling into Tibet...

I carefully made my way down

to the oxygen drop.

As soon as I got there,

I saw that something was very wrong...

with Andy Harris.

Oxygen.

They're all empty.

It's impossible.

I'm telling you, mate.

They're all empty.

They're all--

Andy, this is full.

They're all empty.

No! Feel the weight!

- Feel it! The weight!

- They're empty.

All of them.

You're not right in the head.

You turned my gas up the wrong way.

I'm telling you, these are full.

Hey, Doug. Whoa.

Hey, looks like

we're going to get hosed.

Storm is coming.

I'm a mailman, Krakauer.

Neither snow nor rain...

nor heat...

nor gloom of night--

Thanks for getting me to the summit.

I didn't have time to ask why he and

Doug were still going up the mountain...

was supposed to be going down.

When the group summited,

they radioed base camp...

and a flurry of faxes went out to

friends and family around the world...

announcing the expedition's

triumphant success.

Hey, Scott!

Did you summit?

Yeah.

Hall and Hansen are still

on their way up.

You look spent. Don't you think

you should turn back?

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