Scaling the heights
Thundu was a giant figure among the climbers of Everest
PKATHMANDU, Nepal erhaps the highest honor one can aspire to is to be called “a hero to men.” Lakpa Thundu Sherpa seemed an unlikely candidate for this noble Nepalese designation. Of slight build, with a quiet voice and a humble demeanor, Thundu nonetheless was considered a hero among his peers — the exclusive club of Sherpa mountain guides.
Much has been made of these brave people in Western folklore. What few Westerners realize, however, is that Sherpa men turn to high-altitude mountaineering because they have to support their families, not for fun or adventure.
It was thus out of necessity that, as a teenager, Thundu signed on to his first expedition in the role of kitchen boy. A few seasons later, he advanced to cook at a high-elevation camp and then to high-altitude porter, before graduating to the rarefied position of mountain guide. Thundu’s calm presence and natural cheerfulness belied his supreme agility and strength.
Thundu became known as a quiet giant. He carried the biggest, heaviest loads and moved at the fastest pace, all while maintaining his trademark light-heartedness. Yet no one can remember hearing him speak of his achievements. It was Khame Sherpa, Thundu’s leader, his immediate bosses Iswari Paudel and Henry Todd, his colleagues
and his clients who boasted of Thundu’s prowess.
Climbers fought to have Thundu as their guide. Renowned British explorer Sir RanulphFi en n es refused to make his third attempt on Mount Everest unless Thundu was assigned as his guide. Ran and Thundu; Thundu’s climbing partner Ang Namgel Sherpa; Kenton Cool; my future wife, Anita; and I reached the summit on May 25, 2009.
• In 2010, we found ourselves on the slopes of Everest again, this time without Ran. This was when Thundu and Namgel would show their true greatness.
After reaching the summit, we returned to Camp II, where Anita began experiencing difficulty breathing. She was suffocating and soon expired, pronounced dead by our attending physician, Rob Casserley.
On hearing this news, Thundu and Namgel ran out of the mess tent where Anita laid stone-cold and blue as ice, only to return a few minutes later, panting and holding a medic bag containing syringes of adrenaline and steroids. This cocktail jumpstarted Anita’s heart and she began breathing again — more than 4 minutes after the episode began.
With Anita still unconscious, and after having climbed for nearly 40 hours to the summit and back down to Camp II, I told Thundu and Namgel that I needed to take a short nap. My last memory before falling asleep is of our friends standing resolutely on either side of Anita’s body.
On waking, the first thing I noticed was that Thundu and Namgel were still standing sentry, so I assumed that I had napped for only a halfhour or so. I checked my watch and was stunned to discover that more than five hours had passed. They hadn’t moved.
An hour later, Anita woke and, to our surprise, spoke as if nothing had happened. The frigid temperature had preserved her cognitive abilities. After breakfast, and without sleep for more than two days, Thundu carried his and Anita’s rucksack out of Camp II toward Base Camp. Despite the big load, Thundu nimbly crossed the long, shaky ladders spanning deep crevasses. It was as if the two rucksacks had grown legs — they completely covered Thundu’s torso and head.
• Out of gratitude, we invited Thundu and Namgel to America where we taught them watchmaking. Thanks to their low resting pulse, their natural aptitude at this task was unrivaled. A year later, we opened the world’s first Sherpa-operated watch company in Kathmandu.
The BBC, The New York Times and countless other news outlets recounted their incredible transition from mountain guides to watchmaking Sherpas, yet Namgel, and especially Thundu, felt uneasy about their newfound celebrity.
The goal was simple: to keep “our” Sherpas safe at lower elevations and to train other Sherpas in watchmaking, so that they, too, might escape a dangerous life of mountaineering.
Unfortunately, I was wrong to assume that Thundu and Namgel would enjoy this sedentary occupation.Moreover, it became evident that watches“Made in Nepal” did not create the following I had envisioned. Earthquakes and India’s unofficial economic blockade in 2015 only accelerated our endeavor’s demise: Thundu and Namgel would not be able to support their families with watchmaking.
• On Nov. 28, Thundu found himself making his way up 22,349-foot Mount Ama Dablam at his unusually high speed. The earth shook, an avalanche descended and Thundu was struck by a large block of ice. That day, the diametrically different worlds of mountaineering and horology lost a legend.
Lakpa Thundu Sherpa was a hero to men.