HER FATHER’S DAUGHTER
Houston woman feels the call to climb after K2 claims her dad and brother
“My father used to say that the mountains call you,” says Sequoia Di Angelo. “He spoke of an internal pull that I never understood until I experienced it myself.”
K2, the second highest mountain in the world after Mount Everest, had been calling Marty Schmidt all of his life. Di Angelo’s father became a professional mountain guide by age 18 and eventually founded his own company, Marty Schmidt International Guiding.
On the China-Pakistan border, K2 also beckoned Di Angelo’s brother, 25-yearold Denali Schmidt. He had tackled his first mountain climb — New Zealand’s Mount Cook — for his 16th birthday.
That call to K2 would cost both men their lives, and the story of their tragedy is the subject of “Journey of Heart” Di Angelo’s book that will be out on Nov. 27. She wrote it under the name Sequoia Schmidt, although she changed her surname to Di Angelo in 2008.
The author, who has called Houston home since 1998, said that explorers like to say everyone considers you a climber after you’ve conquered Mount Everest, but you become a climber to other climbers only after you take on K2. Its steep ascent and icy terrain have earned K2 the nickname “Savage Mountain.” It’s believed that one person dies on K2 for every four who summit.
Marty Schmidt had two unsuccessful climbing attempts before his third try in the summer of 2013, when his son Denali joined him.
They were among the 56 climbers who went up the mountain that trip. All but the Schmidts aborted the attempt because of dangerous conditions. On July 27, Marty Schmidt confirmed via radio that they had reached the third checkpoint — there are four camps between the base and summit — and promised to call the next morning.
That call never came. While the two men slept, an avalanche swept them away.
“We had received a lot of snow the past few days that had lasted longer than our forecasts,” said Adrian Hayes, a climber who had turned back. “It’s my opinion that they felt they were very strong and trying to inject some positivity into the very negative atmosphere amongst other climbers. And it’s the same with most avalanches — you just don’t think it’s going to hit you.”
Through her pain, Di Angelo found purpose. She established the Denali Foundation, a tribute to the brother whose paintings and photography were inspired by his love of the outdoors and to encourage young artists to hone their craft. The group’s inaugural gala was at the Houstonian Hotel, Club and Spa in February; Hayes was the keynote speaker.
By July, Di Angelo was exhibiting her brother’s
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Mike Horn, a Swiss explorer and friend of the Schmidts, had discovered a human head in the snow while shooting a promotional film on K2 for Mercedes Benz and posted it to Facebook. Di Angelo, along with most of the climbing community, was livid.
“There are unspoken rules about handling remains out of respect for the families, the locals, and the mountain,” she explained. “I replayed the video five times, paused it, and tried desperately to make sense of what I was watching.”
The 24-year-old resolved to identify the remains and give them a proper burial. Within 72 hours, she obtained an emergency visa and set out for Pakistan. From there, she went to Istanbul and then Islamabad with warnings that she’d be in dangerous Taliban territory.
She pressed on. For 16 days, Di Angelo and five Pakistani guides followed the same path that her father and brother had taken. She was debriefed at the Pakistani Alpine Club, drove on the Karakoram Highway for 30 hours to Skardu, and obtained military approval in Askoli, the last point of modern civilization.
“The last eight days are entirely on foot. Making your way up to K2, you don’t see the mountain until the very last day, and then you round a corner and it’s right there in front of you,” she said. “Because of low visibility, I spent three hours looking through the clouds yelling, ‘Show yourself to me!’ I went inside our tent for dinner and when I came out, there (the mountain) was.”
Di Angelo had nightmares of walking through fields of dead bodies for weeks after seeing Horn’s video. In reality, the memorial site was on a cliff with 89 plaques to honor those who had died.
She prepared the remains for DNA samples using the instructions and instruments bestowed from a friend at the Baylor College of Medicine.
Though test results later revealed that the remains belonged to at least two mountaineers from the 2008 K2 disaster, she didn’t leave empty-handed.
She kept a diary throughout her journey and each stop formed a chapter.
“This book is important for my personal growth. My grieving process is not something that has an ending,” she said. “During my research, I found emails from Dad begging me to come on an expedition.”
Next month, Di Angelo will undergo ice training in Ecuador before she attempts to summit Chimborazo on Dec. 21.
The mountains are calling her now, too.