A dead climber... with my boots
It has already claimed ten lives this year. Now Clare man John Burke tells the incredible story of how he conquered Everest... and the horrors he had to witness on the way
STARTING his descent down one of the world’s most treacherous mountains, John Burke saw the first of several dead bodies. Lying face-down in the snow, it was a stark reminder to the Clare man that though he had reached the summit of Mount Everest successfully, he wasn’t out of danger yet.
The area around Camp Four is known as the ‘Death Zone’ and is more than 8,000 metres above sea level. Oxygen reduces to about 30% of what it normally is and the air is so thin that the brain gets confused and movements and functions are all impaired.
The descent itself is tricky enough, without your mind playing tricks on you. So having accomplished the dream he’d fostered for almost a decade, there was still a lot of hard work ahead for John and seeing the body reinforced the fragility of his situation. It also gave him a poignant flashback to the run-up to his own adventure.
‘There are bodies up there — we saw the first one about an hour out of Camp Four,’ says John. ‘I just remember how fresh everything looked. The body was face down, but all the boots and the gear and the crampons looked so fresh and new.
‘I remember looking and they were wearing the same brand of boots that I was wearing. I just had this moment of reflection from when my boots arrived in Spanish Point. I was showing them to the family and they were like, “wow, those are the boots that you are going to stand on the top of the world with”.
‘And I just wondered if this person went through all this excitement too and now that is him and his boots left on the side of the mountain forever. That really helped me focus.’
Focus is not something you can afford to lose on Everest. Over 290 people have died trying to climb it, with many elements contributing to the deaths, including avalanches, injuries from falls, ice collapses, exposure or health problems.
Ten people have already died this year, including renowned, experienced Swiss climber Ueli Steck, who perished while preparing an attempt to climb the mountain using a new route.
Businessman John Delaney is the only Irish person to have lost their life on Everest, after he came within 50 metres of the summit in 2011. He is survived by his wife, two sons and a daughter Hope, who was born while he was on the expedition.
You could be forgiven for wondering what would drive a man to risk everything like this, simply to climb a mountain. John has it all. A beautiful wife, actress Aoibhin Garrihy, and a successful hotel business in the picturesque Spanish Point. But he says it’s something that grew out of his love of hill-walking.
‘In Ireland, I love the serenity and the peace and the escapism, getting out into the depths of nature,’ he says. ‘With the recession and everything that was going on in my own business, I found myself under a lot of pressure, and I found great peace and relaxation in the hills.’
Six years ago he went to Nepal to investigate the potential journey that would lie ahead of him. The enormity of the task hit home and it took a number of years before he finally agreed to sign up.
‘There was a huge risk, and I would find some decision not to do it — be it Aoibhin or my nephew, who I am very close to — and I just put it off,’ he says. ‘Every time I put it on hold, I found myself empty and unfulfilled in life and I couldn’t risk looking back in my final years having this missing piece.
‘I knew if I didn’t give it a shot I would have felt like I had opted out. There are millions of people who are into hill-climbing and they wouldn’t dream of attempting Everest and I would much rather have been one of them. But for me, the first day I took to the hills it was with Everest in my mind, and it just grew from there. Once I decided to give it a go, I started plotting the safest way to do it. I tried to eliminate the controllable risks and not let the uncontrollable ones dominate my mind.’
John’s biggest asset was the team of Sherpas he had accompanying his group up the mountain — a family of seven brothers who are in the Guinness Book of Records for successfully scaling the summit 60 times.
So he focused on the positives and ploughed on with his mission. When he made it to treacherous Camp Four, he was surprised at how quickly they were going to attempt to summit the peak.
‘You can get so distracted with the social media and you get caught up in the story, then you have to say goodbye and start out and it becomes very real,’ admits John. ‘The same when I got word that the summit push was happening. That day I had done hard training on a hill close by when I should have been resting. I came back at 3pm and at 4pm there was a team meeting and they said we were leaving at 2am for the final summit push.
‘That hit me like a tonne of bricks — you get caught up in moments of weakness where the enormity of what you are about to do hits home. But you can’t let yourself get scared. You have to nip it in the bud and shut it out and remind yourself you are able and strong.’
The relief that John felt the moment he ascended to the 30 square foot precipice of Everest is still evident on his face. For a moment all those fears and doubts came pouring out in floods of tears as he realised the enormity of his achievement.
‘Usually there are loads of prayer flags at the top, but we were early on in the year and we tried to gather a few for photographs to make it look legit,’ he laughs. ‘For me there was this huge release — the tears came and I didn’t want the moment to pass me. As I approached, I thought of the sacrifices Aoibhin and I had made — the work and worry and risk that went into it. When I got to the top I just started bawling.
‘For about four or five minutes I sat there sobbing and then started the photos and bits and pieces. I had all the holy medals. I brought mass
‘I felt empty and unfulfilled in my life’
cards from my dad and my brother-in-law who have both passed and I took them out and spent a bit of time with them up there.’
Euphoria over, the group were reminded that the most dangerous part of Everest is the descent. ‘On the way back down I really tuned back in,’ says John. ‘It’s definitely tougher, but because you have made the summit, all that pressure is gone and you don’t have all these nagging doubts and fears. You just focus on one step at a time. I was sharing a tent with a Welsh guy and we were patting each other on the back for about 20 minutes, delighted with ourselves.
‘We had it done in our heads and then we woke up suddenly in the morning and the whole tent was shaking with 50km winds — that was a real wakeup call. I remember saying we were a bit premature with our celebrations and we had a massive reality check, which probably helped us get down safely.’
Other climbers were not so lucky and for those that perish above Camp Four, there is no way of repatriating the bodies to their families. Mountaineers trudge past them respectfully, a sinister reminder of what one mistake can cost.
Since he arrived home, John has struggled to get back into normal life — and often thinks he’s back on the mountain.
‘Every time I wake up — which was about five times last night — I just have no idea where I am,’ he says. ‘I suppressed fear for so long, that something has to give.’
Thankfully for all his loved ones, the trip hasn’t awakened a competitive spirit in John that often follows such achievements, with people looking for the next highest peak or an even bigger risk.
‘It was two months of a trip and it could have been longer,’ he says. ‘Summiting was always the objective, but it was never the be-all and end-all of the trip. It was always about giving it the best shot.
‘I may think differently now if I didn’t summit, but I always said I wouldn’t have any regrets if it didn’t happen and that is it and it’s done.’