babushka.
“Mrty, it's great to see you.”
“Hi, Bass.”
Dick hadn't seen Marty for over a week. She had been working to put in the high camp while he was hauling loads at mid-elevations. It was curious how on the climb you often went two weeks or more without seeing some of your companions; Dick hadn't seen Frank, for example, since he had contracted pneumonia two weeks ago. But he knew Frank was better and starting to carry again, and would probably be up to this level soon.
“Bass, I’ve been getting reports about how you've been carrying all these heavy loads. I’m proud of you.”
Dick swelled up like a male grouse on display. “Marty, you don't know how much your compliment means to me.”
“I’d have to be blind to miss that. You haven't forgotten about our deal have you? We're still going to the top, you know, me and you.”
“Marty, I don't know. I think when the moment of truth comes there may only be room for a few selects on the summit teams and you'd have a lot better chance with someone more experienced.”
“No way. Deal's a deal.”
“We'll see when the time comes, but whatever God wills I want you to know I appreciate your still wanting to take me.”
“How's everyone else? Seen Lou?”
“We came up to three together yesterday. Paid me a heck of a compliment, said I handled the rope better than anyone he'd been tied to this trip. But then that's because I had a good teacher.”
Marty smiled. Dick continued. “Then we tented together, and his appreciation waned when I started to recite poetry. He kind of rolled over and cold-backed me. Guess he didn't want a large-mouthed Bass laying a poem on him at 23,000 feet.”
“His problem. What poem?”
“Well, I’ve put Lasca to memory.”
“Lasca! Bass, you know that's my favorite, well, one of my favorites. I’ve got the Xerox of “Evolution” you gave me in my pack. Boy, Lasca is a lot to memorize. I don't see how you did it.”
“Unless you can sleep fourteen hours a day there's a lot of time lying awake in your sleeping bag.”
“Think you could recite it now?”
“Thought you'd never ask.”
Although there was no audience on the climb he would have preferred to Marty, he also knew how much she loved the poem so he made a silent prayer he didn't screw up. He recited it, though, without missing a word of the poignant story told by a cowboy of his half-breed woman who gave her life to save him in a cattle stampede.
Marty was thrilled.
“Dick, do those last lines again.”
Dick recited the last lines over:
“And I wonder why I do not care
For the things that are like the things that were.
Does half my heart lie buried there
In Texas, down by the Rio Grande.”
Marty pursed her lips and fought back a tear. “Thanks Dick. That was great.”
She turned and continued down the rope, and Dick noticed she was wearing those lapis earrings, and they matched her blue babushka.
Camp 5 was established at the base of the Great Couloir. After several days rest, Marty was back up the mountain, and with some of the others started the effort to establish camp 6 at about 26,500 feet. Once that camp was in and sufficiently stocked they would be in position for the first summit attempt. The team for that first effort was now chosen: Larry Nielson (the team member with perhaps the strongest physical endurance), Jim Wickwire, Marty Hoey. Dick and Frank were both excited for Marty; she was now in position to accomplish her dream of becoming the first American woman on top of Everest.
Meanwhile Dick had stayed in camp 3, each day humping loads up to 4, and now Frank moved up to join him. There was a third person in camp 3, Steve Marts, a Seattle-based climber and documentary filmmaker who was a one-man cinematography team shooting and recording a 16 mm film of the expedition. Both Frank and Dick had been impressed watching Marts, using a camera with a sound recorder strapped on and a microphone attached to the top, single-handedly
“Mrty, it's great to see you.”
“Hi, Bass.”
Dick hadn't seen Marty for over a week. She had been working to put in the high camp while he was hauling loads at mid-elevations. It was curious how on the climb you often went two weeks or more without seeing some of your companions; Dick hadn't seen Frank, for example, since he had contracted pneumonia two weeks ago. But he knew Frank was better and starting to carry again, and would probably be up to this level soon.
“Bass, I’ve been getting reports about how you've been carrying all these heavy loads. I’m proud of you.”
Dick swelled up like a male grouse on display. “Marty, you don't know how much your compliment means to me.”
“I’d have to be blind to miss that. You haven't forgotten about our deal have you? We're still going to the top, you know, me and you.”
“Marty, I don't know. I think when the moment of truth comes there may only be room for a few selects on the summit teams and you'd have a lot better chance with someone more experienced.”
“No way. Deal's a deal.”
“We'll see when the time comes, but whatever God wills I want you to know I appreciate your still wanting to take me.”
“How's everyone else? Seen Lou?”
“We came up to three together yesterday. Paid me a heck of a compliment, said I handled the rope better than anyone he'd been tied to this trip. But then that's because I had a good teacher.”
Marty smiled. Dick continued. “Then we tented together, and his appreciation waned when I started to recite poetry. He kind of rolled over and cold-backed me. Guess he didn't want a large-mouthed Bass laying a poem on him at 23,000 feet.”
“His problem. What poem?”
“Well, I’ve put Lasca to memory.”
“Lasca! Bass, you know that's my favorite, well, one of my favorites. I’ve got the Xerox of “Evolution” you gave me in my pack. Boy, Lasca is a lot to memorize. I don't see how you did it.”
“Unless you can sleep fourteen hours a day there's a lot of time lying awake in your sleeping bag.”
“Think you could recite it now?”
“Thought you'd never ask.”
Although there was no audience on the climb he would have preferred to Marty, he also knew how much she loved the poem so he made a silent prayer he didn't screw up. He recited it, though, without missing a word of the poignant story told by a cowboy of his half-breed woman who gave her life to save him in a cattle stampede.
Marty was thrilled.
“Dick, do those last lines again.”
Dick recited the last lines over:
“And I wonder why I do not care
For the things that are like the things that were.
Does half my heart lie buried there
In Texas, down by the Rio Grande.”
Marty pursed her lips and fought back a tear. “Thanks Dick. That was great.”
She turned and continued down the rope, and Dick noticed she was wearing those lapis earrings, and they matched her blue babushka.
Camp 5 was established at the base of the Great Couloir. After several days rest, Marty was back up the mountain, and with some of the others started the effort to establish camp 6 at about 26,500 feet. Once that camp was in and sufficiently stocked they would be in position for the first summit attempt. The team for that first effort was now chosen: Larry Nielson (the team member with perhaps the strongest physical endurance), Jim Wickwire, Marty Hoey. Dick and Frank were both excited for Marty; she was now in position to accomplish her dream of becoming the first American woman on top of Everest.
Meanwhile Dick had stayed in camp 3, each day humping loads up to 4, and now Frank moved up to join him. There was a third person in camp 3, Steve Marts, a Seattle-based climber and documentary filmmaker who was a one-man cinematography team shooting and recording a 16 mm film of the expedition. Both Frank and Dick had been impressed watching Marts, using a camera with a sound recorder strapped on and a microphone attached to the top, single-handedly
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