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Lhotse Face

The Climb

Lhotse Face is the steep slope on the route above the lower camps, a place where the work of preparing a safe ascent and the danger of a fall meet. During acclimatization, climbers and Sherpas move up toward the higher camps; later, the fixed ropes on the face become a reference point in the storm. The slope matters not only as terrain to be climbed, but as terrain that a lost climber must avoid.

Route and acclimatization

Mountain Madness planned four acclimatization excursions, gradually taking clients to higher elevations while limiting what they carried so they could preserve their strength. On the first excursion they would reach 6,100 meters, the site chosen for Camp I, then return to base the same day without an overnight stay. On the second, they would sleep at that height and continue the next day toward 6,500 meters, where Sherpas were establishing Camp II. The itinerary paired climbing with rest: the team would descend for several days between excursions so climbers could recover and guides could observe their condition.

The face also became a demanding worksite when the expeditions cooperated to prepare the upper route. On April 26, Mountain Madness was expected to contribute Sherpas to the laborious task of fixing ropes between Camp III and Camp IV. But Camp III still needed to be established, and the Sherpas were close to exhaustion after several days of work. Rather than send them to the rope-fixing effort, a decision was made to send Boukreev in their place, preserving the team’s contribution to the shared work and its position among the expeditions preparing an early summit attempt.

At Camp III, Boukreev spent the night alone in the tents after a day of work. He prepared food and tea on a high-altitude stove, called base camp by radio to request more rope for the next day, and went to sleep as the cold returned. He woke lethargic after his first night above 7,000 meters, but eventually left the warmth of his sleeping bag and clipped onto the fixed rope outside his tent. Moving upward with Ang Dorje, he checked the existing anchors and tie-offs, removing old rope that might be mistaken for sound equipment. Their task was practical and preventive: a climber relying on an old, weak, or poorly anchored line could be put in danger.

A prepared route, and a missing safeguard

Rope preparation became crucial again near the summit. Climbers from the Fischer and Hall expeditions understood that the ropes between Camp IV and the summit were supposed to be fixed ahead of them, so the guides and clients would not have to stop and wait. The plan assigned the climbing sirdars, Lopsang Jangbu Sherpa and Ang Dorje Sherpa, to leave early and prepare the route. In practice, neither sirdar nor any other Sherpa had departed ahead of the climbers to fix the ropes.

The explanation for this failure remained disputed. After the climb, Lopsang said that a member of a Montenegrin expedition that had attempted the summit the previous day told him the rope was already fixed. Jon Krakauer later questioned that account, noting that Lopsang and Ang Dorje left Camp IV carrying rope. The account also presents circumstances that complicate an accusation of deliberate concealment: Scott Fischer reached Camp IV late and exhausted, and may have believed a report that left him thinking the route was ready. Whatever the explanation, the gap between what clients expected and what was in place meant the ascent could not proceed as planned. On the summit ridge, Boukreev and Beidleman eventually decided to work together on the ropes after a long wait, although Boukreev left a section of the route for the guides and Sherpas behind him to complete.

The face in the storm

By evening, the fixed ropes that had guided climbers on the face became the route Boukreev hoped to find while searching for clients above Camp IV. He set out carrying three oxygen canisters, a mask, and regulator, as well as an ice ax and ski pole. Within ten to fifteen minutes, clouds dropped onto the South Col; wind drove snow across him, and visibility gave way to whiteout. He began using oxygen when he judged his reserves might not be enough. Although he could see lights flashing from Camp IV, the ropes were hidden. He picked his way over steep ice, aware that a wrong move could send him down the face.

His glasses fogged and then froze when warm breath escaped around the oxygen mask. In effect, he was climbing blind. He removed the mask to recover what little visibility he could, repeatedly losing sight of Camp IV’s lights when he stepped upward and regaining them when he stepped down. The light gave him a precarious bearing, but not a reliable view of the route. He stopped searching rather than risk dying before he could help anyone, reasoning that the climbers might already have reached camp during a break in the weather; if not, he could recover and try again.

The face also shaped the decisions of the climbers caught in the storm. When Beidleman could direct the group, he led them away from the route by which Boukreev and others had descended and toward the eastern side of the South Col. That side was less steep and offered a way to avoid walking onto the face and its precipice. He carried Yasuko Namba on his arm and tried to keep the group moving across a slight slope toward a high point and a distinct band of rock, which he hoped would guide them downhill toward camp or other recognizable landmarks.

But the plan depended on terrain remaining legible. The wind buffeted the climbers, people followed whichever headlight appeared ahead, and Beidleman could not move to the front while carrying Namba. Without his own headlight out, he believed the group traversed too far, reached the ridge crest, and lost the side slope that had been their guide. Once that happened, he lost his orientation too. He feared that a climber who left the group to find camp alone would most likely become completely lost. The group wandered together; with oxygen exhausted and thought impaired, the distinction between a safe traverse and a dangerous direction became difficult to judge. Lhotse Face thus stands in the narrative as both a physical hazard and a boundary that rescuers and survivors had to orient themselves around in conditions that erased the route.