Ugliness At The Top Of The World–Fear And Loathing On Everest: Earlier this year, a seven-member climbing team from Connecticut went to Everest. Michael Kodas, a reporter for the Hartford Courant, was a member of the team, there to document the climb. The expedition was led by Romanian immigrant George Dijmarescu and his wife, Lhakpa Sherpa, both experienced Everest climbers. It was supposed to be a story of adventure and triumph. It turned into a saga of brutality and abuse, with Dijmarescu threatening clients (“From now on, I will do all I can to hunt this bitch down, like a hiena [sic]”), punching out his wife, and turning the whole adventure into a twisted mountainous version of “Lord Of The Flies.” Not to mention all the porn in the mess tent, sherpa rebellion on the mountain, and allegations of oxygen poaching. You can read the harrowing, gut-wrenching, Made-For-TV, story here (free reg required). Here’s just a taste, and the whole thing is well worth the time:
Russell Brice, an Everest legend who has been climbing in the Himalayas for 30 years, 10 of them running commercial expeditions to Everest, wanted to talk to me in Base Camp. Last year, on his 13th Everest expedition, all his clients reached the summit. This year more than 100 people lived in his tents, which spread out in long rows like a suburban subdivision.
In the frontier town that is Everest Base Camp, Brice is something akin to Wyatt Earp. Not everyone agrees with the rules he and the rest of the mountain’s most experienced guides impose, but they’re the only order high on the mountain.
He had problems with our expedition, and George in particular.
“He’s cheating you guys,” Brice said, sitting amid memorials to fallen climbers on a hill above his camp. “He organizes an expedition and doesn’t take responsibility.”
Brice was getting cheated, too, he said. While we prided ourselves on climbing without guides, he said we were really just parasites feeding off the work and resources of bigger expeditions.
Each year, Brice hosts a meeting in Advanced Base Camp to determine what each expedition will contribute toward installing the ropes that are critical to the safety of all the climbers on the mountain. But George led us down to Base Camp the day before this year’s meeting. We didn’t hear about the meeting for nearly a week.
George doesn’t do his part on the mountain, Brice said.
This year, the expeditions that did contribute only managed to fix ropes up to Camp Three, the last camp before the summit. Brice had enough rope to equip the summit, but wouldn’t put them up until his clients were climbing. Those who went for the summit earlier would hang on old and dangerously tattered lines.
He said our expedition was causing problems lower on the mountain, too. One of our cooks was sent down alone to Base Camp when he became altitude sick. Friends who found him in our cook tent three days later were convinced he was dying.
“The kitchen boy was sent down with no support and no medicine,” Brice charged. “I used two bottles of oxygen to care for [him]. Am I ever going to get that back from George?”
Experience made him confident he could forecast our future.
“You’re going to run out of food,” he said, predicting as well that the shortage of provisions would end some climbers’ chances for the summit prematurely.
“He probably didn’t tell you about the tip structure for the Sherpas’ trips to high camps,” Brice added. When we told Brice that George had each climber who wanted help from a Sherpa hire one individually, he was flabbergasted. “That’s not how you do it,” he said incredulously. “You hire your Sherpas as a team.”
Brice said that when he first came to Everest, climbers banded together and helped each other out. Today, he said, many hide to avoid responsibility or lurk in the shadows to exploit other teams.
“These people are in my tents, in my sleeping bags, using my gas and eating my food,” Brice said.
Brice has had oxygen bottles stolen and tents filled with crucial equipment thrown from the mountain.
“I drop oxygen at Camp Three and you come and take it and it’s not there for my client,” Brice said. “That’s manslaughter.”
His tents were once open to any climber desperate for a port in a storm. These days there are locks on the doors.
Later, Tina Sjogren, one of the founders of Explorer’s Web, and an Everest summiteer herself, picked up the story. Here’s what she got back from Dijmarescu:
“…you understood that I was accused several times of criminal activity and you made little or no effort to do an investigative work toward the truth…You believe I only threatening you with a law suit. As I asked before and ask AGAIN:
PLEASE PROVIDE ME WITH YOUR PHYSICAL ADDRESS OF MOUNTEVEREST.NET/EXPLORESWEB.COM AND ITS OWNERS AND YOU WILL SEE FOR YOURSELF, SOONER, I AM NOT BLUFFING
YOU HAVE 30 (THIRTY) DAYS TO RETRACT YOUR ARTICLE ON MOUNTEVEREST.NET. THAT TIME STARTS TODAY DEC 6TH 2004.
YOUR RETRACTION SHALL BE ON THE SAME PAGE AS EQUALLY AS NOTORIOUS AS THE FRONT PAGE OF MOUNTEVEREST.NET”
Does that sound like someone you’d like to be above 8,000 meters with? You can also read the raw expedition blog, and check out the photo gallery. But Explorer’s Web has the two most important photos…
George Dijmarescu
His Handiwork: Team members carry the unconscious Lhakpa to the cook tent.
(Photos: Hartford Courant and Michael Kodas, via Explorer’s Web)
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