Because It's There

Did George Mallory make the first ascent of Mount Everest?

Because it’s there!

Many of us pass through life living from day to day, from hand to mouth, merely existing.  A few, more fortunate, seek meaning. That meaning can take many forms.

In the North of India that purpose is found by many in the city of Varanasi, where millions come to the stone steps of the Ghats to perform ritual cleansing in the sacred water of the Ganges. The teeming city of Varanasi is a dazzling feast for the outer world of the senses but also a channel into the inner world of the soul.

 Many days walk beyond Varanasi, a Sadhu, a Hindu ascetic, walks slowly north towards the mountains. He is barefoot, and clad in a simple, dusty saffron robe. Having renounced all worldly possessions he lives in the moment, through meditation, on his journey of spiritual renewal. He is making a pilgrimage of many months to visit a holy cave high in the mountains. With each step he chants his mantra.

As the summer passes, the Sadhu leaves the dusty, baked plains of Uttar Pradesh and enters the dense forests along the border with Nepal. Revered by the peasants along the way he lives meagrely from donations of alms and food. The lush forests are dangerous, home to tiger, leopard and elephant but the Sadhu reaches the northern limits of the forest safely.

Now the path becomes more tiring as he follows narrow rocky tracks over the steep, lightly wooded foothills. The local tribesmen scratch a precarious living from the harsh slopes by growing crops in their small fields of thin soil and tending their scrawny goats. In spite of this the Sadhu is never without a handful of food, a mouthful of water and a place to lay his head.

After many days of progress he reaches the summit of the highest foothill where the thinning air snatches his breath. What he sees takes the last vestiges of that breath away. Before him, from horizon to horizon, an unbroken wall of dazzling snow and rock climbs into the sky. Above them all one mountain towers, the mountain called by the locals Sagarmatha. By most of the world the mountain is called Mount Everest, the highest mountain on earth.  The Sadhu stands mesmerised and chants long through the day until the setting sun turns the snows red.

Although the mountain is made from the same rock as below his feet and the snow comes from the same clouds as above his head the Sadhu has been transported ecstatically from his spiritual realm into the seductive world of his senses. For timeless moments he experiences the same sense of wonder as does a man standing on the far side of the great mountain.

That man is George Leigh Mallory and he is looking at Everest from the 1924 expedition base camp on the Tibetan side of Everest. Before leaving England, earlier in the year, he had been asked why he wanted to climb Everest and after pausing for thought he answered famously, ‘because it's there!’ We can only guess at the deeper meaning behind this response, but coming from a line of clergymen and having served in World War 1, we can only assume from his life experiences that it was not a trite answer.

On the eighth of June 1924 Mallory and his climbing companion Andrew Irvine set off from their high camp at 26,800 feet. Noel Odell bade the pair good luck and later in that day was the last man to see them alive, high on the North ridge of the mountain. They never returned! Since that day there has been unceasing speculation as to whether either, or both of them, reached the summit. Everest was finally climbed by Tenzing Norgay and Edmund Hillary in the 1953 British expedition.

The mystery of what happened that fateful day has never been fully solved. In the 1930’s Irvine’s ice axe was found. In 1975 a Chinese climber discovered the body of what he described as an Englishman. Finally, in 1999, an expedition set out to solve the mystery and found Mallory’s well preserved body at 26,670 feet. It appeared that he’d sustained a bad fall but crucially his camera was not found. There has been abundant speculation as to what may have passed that day but unfortunately the firm evidence was lacking.

Into the new century, in 2007, it was now my turn to gaze in awe and wonder at the great mountain. I was standing with my pal Tom on the small hill of Kala Patthar, a short, if breathless, hike above Everest base camp. The full grandeur of Everest towered above and left words inadequate. I’m not embarrassed to say that it engendered an almost religious feeling in me. It helped me understand how the first astronauts to look down at our earth, in the immensity of space, came back as men changed forever. Their experience, and mine, had given our outlook on this fragile world a fundamental transformation.

Just over a week later, footsore, fitter and suffused with the glow of achievement Tom and I were back in Kathmandu looking forward to a few days of recuperation. We found a comfortable hotel and headed out for a few beers and some good food.

Starting to feel revived, the following day we disappeared into the maze of stalls and small shops in the tourist fleapit of Thamil. Here you could buy everything you might need from trekking gear to souvenirs. I was looking for a special thing to take home and down a dark alley we came on a small emporium selling local bric-a-brac. I spent some time trying to identify the wheat from the chaff with the owner hovering behind me.

‘Very nice Sir - yak horn drinking cup,’ and then, ‘ah Sir, very fine item, genuine Yeti scalp, very low price for you Sir.’

Declining these exotic items, we were just about to leave when I spotted something intriguing on a high shelf. I lifted it down - inside a waterproofed case was a dusty old pre-war camera in surprisingly good condition. I could see the makers name Kodak on the small portable camera which was fitted with flexible leather bellows. It looked well worth a punt.

‘I will give you 1000 rupees for this. I think it has been mouldering up there since 1930!

‘Oh, no, no, Sir - my father bought it from a Tibetan trader many years ago. It is very excellent camera. For you sir, special price, only 1500 rupees.’

‘Far too much!’ I shook my head and feigning disinterest we turned and walked out. As expected he followed us out down the alley and we settled on 900 rupees. As is always the case I knew I had still been fleeced.

Two days later Tom and I returned to Scotland via Dubai with the camera snuggling deep in my case in the hold. Back at home the camera ended up on top of the wardrobe and was forgotten about for the next six months. When spring arrived it was time for the annual dusting and the odds and ends from the wardrobe were lifted down for a few minutes of freedom. It took me a few seconds to remember what the damn thing in the waxed cotton case was.

I’d never really examined the camera properly so I slipped it out of the case. It obviously went back to well before the last world war but fortunately the case had saved it from damage and any serious corrosion. I had intended it to be merely a souvenir displayed on my sideboard but I suddenly had one of these moments of inspiration. Photography had been my passion for many years, particularly capturing the changing moods of my other passion, the mountains. ‘Is it possible,’ I thought, ‘after all this time could this old thing still take photographs?’ I felt very excited at the prospect and started to examine it carefully.

It was when I turned the camera upside down to examine the base that I saw something that made me gasp out loud. With my heart racing I had to sit down on the bed. The stupendous repercussions of what I had found propelled me into such an agitated state that my head spun and I was incapable of coherent thought. To help you understand my state of mind, imagine meeting your unknown and identical twin for the first time in the street.

When the seeming impossible presents itself our natural response is to preserve our sanity with other, more mundane alternatives but in this case my head was empty!  I had found the distinct but unmistakable initials GLM scratched neatly on the camera.

I wanted to believe, of course I did! However unlikely, the details were stacking up; the initials GLM, George Leigh Mallory; the provenance, brought by a Tibetan trader; finally, it was the very model of Kodak that G.L.M had taken on that fateful day. I sat down to think about this. But how did it get from Everest to Thamil? The only answer I came up with was that a local high altitude porter had found it on one of the early Chinese expeditions and had surreptitiously brought it down with the aim of supplementing his meager earnings.

Steady Alan, no running down the street screaming - Mallory made it first! Nothing hasty! First I would bide my time - no mad dash to the ‘Daily Drivel’. Then it finally struck me with all the finesse of a falling Yeti - the photo might still be in that little box sitting beside me. Yes, THAT photo - Mallory and Irvine standing on the summit of Everest. Almost akin to discovering footage of Gagarin standing on the lunar surface in 1967 - ‘one small step for Marxism.

There was nothing else for it - the conclusive evidence lay within. My fully equipped darkroom was still there, although unused for some time. I felt confident in my skills and decided there was no reason to delay. I started by cleaning and dusting the small darkroom thoroughly before checking my equipment and materials. I then decided to test my skills on an old undeveloped film that I found in a corner. No problems. Time for the real thing now - I felt confident but that didn’t stop my hands starting to shake after switching on the red safety light and starting to open the camera.

All went well and soon I was gazing expectantly at the paper in the tray of developer. This moment of revelation is the photographer’s ‘fix’. Yes, here is it coming. The act of creation - out of the void comes the …?

I used the tongs to lift out the paper and put it into the tray of fixer. I had to sit down on the chair as my legs shook. I gazed at the clear image. There was no mistaking that I was seeing George Mallory posing on the summit holding his small Union Jack. It was obvious that the photo had been taken by Sandy Irvine.

I hung it up to dry and busied myself with small tasks as I allowed the photo to dry. It was time to think about what I should do next.  I took the photo to the bedroom where the camera still lay. I occurred to me that I hadn’t finished examining the camera although now it seemed a formality. To my consternation I discovered a small waxed pocket on the inside of the case. Opening it I was flabbergasted to find a small folded piece of notepaper.

I lay back on the bed with the photo lying at my side and the unfolded note in my hand. I read it through streaming tears,

‘For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?’  (written on our return from the summit - Sandy is gone and I have a grand seat here, if somewhat chilly!’

What did Mallory mean by this famous and profound biblical saying - perhaps his own father had impressed it on him. I thought long and hard about the message that Mallory had left and I kept coming back to the same conclusion.

With a heavy heart I knew there was only one possible step to take. I took the note and the photo and original film down to the kitchen, stuck a match and watched them fall as ashes to the plate.

I knew that the photo would have brought great fame and wealth to me also, but perhaps my soul would be in jeopardy too! It had been Mallory’s decision.

Many years before, the Sadhu that had been transfixed as he gazed at the great shining mountain felt the dust below his bare feet and knew that all earthly things face the same fate. Even the rocks of the greatest mountains crumble and are carried back to the plains by the great river Ganges. The Sadhu lowered his gaze and focused it back inside. Resuming his mantra he continued on his path.

 

Alan Graham    February   2019

 

Reviews

[Perry]

Wow, this is a great and well written story. I love the way you come full circle and return to the Sadhu aspect of the story. Now, about this in between. You could make this story a little longer and add details that I think the reader would appreciate. It's a long trek from Kathmandu to Everest base camp let alone to the the highest camp. Some in between details would be very interesting. Hard to say how much Everest history is appropriate but Tenzig Norgay should have honorable mention as a Sherpa. That's pure opinion on my part--but I bet you agree. Ah, yes, Mallory's camera. What a great idea, only mentioning that his camera was not found gives the surprise away. Instead, talk early on about your interest in photography. Don't mention Mallory's camera until the initials show up. Now you've got a reason to dust off that darkroom.

Perry

[alanwgraham]

Thanks Perry for your great review. I enjoyed writing this as I've done a bit of trekking in Nepal although not the Everest trek. I try to keep my stories here on the short side as I think readers won't read anything too lengthy. Tenzing should definitely be mentioned. I've checked back and I did refer to his first ascent. As for the camera I did keep the reveal re the initials until near the end although most readers would have realised. My discovery of the note was added as the big finale.
Thanks again.
Alan

[Betty Hermelee]

I loved this story, because so many sites are familiar to me. Your story takes us to some of my favorite places….
Whether you are fortunate enough to climb Mt. Everest, or simply feel the dust beneath your feet, is in reality the same. One man’s victory is another man’s soul.”All earthly things face the same fate”…..the surprise of finding the note and the camera makes fir an interesting. Twist……
I, as you, marvel at these adventures, though I did not attempt the climb.
Masterful!
Best
B.

[alanwgraham]

Thanks for your great review and kind words Betty. I really enjoyed writing this and letting it grow arms and legs as I write it. I did find a camera of that vintage and I'm tempted to scratch GLM on it then return it to an antique shop. I have flown past Everest on the way to Bhutan and years ago I ran up and down the height of Everest in 21 1/2 hours on a local hill. Also in the late 70's I heard Noel Odell describing seeing Mallory for the last time.
Thanks again.
Best wishes,
Alan

[Betty Hermelee]

I love reading your stories...you're very welcome!
Best, B

[Beccy]

Loved this to bits Alan; so very well told and as ever, both a seamless progression and great originality.

Beccy.

[S.zaynab.kamoonpury]

I enjoyed the suspenseful climb and mysterious events part , the words and I love mountains too so your equating the feeling to being in space was eloquently expressed . I don't like the pollution of the Ganges by the religious activities though as Hindus themselves have expressed regrets and criticism of that. Kudos for a great story.

Plz do read and comment on my newest poem too, right on top of my page

[alanwgraham]

Many thanks for your thoughtful review Zaynab. I enjoyed writing this story and imagining what might have been.
All the best.
Alan

[Neville]

.. If I could write and tell a story, it would undoubtedly be the story you have told here Alan .. and guess what, I wouldn't change a single word ..

Your 'Because It's There' has got just about everything I look and long for in a tale .. This is without a shadow of a doubt, a tale told terribly well ......... write on Alan and go well sir :)

.. Neville

[alanwgraham]

Thanks for your great comments Neville. Sometimes everything just clicks into place. I had a few links with the Everest story which triggered the story and I think the final twist worked. I hope everything is well with you and hopefully life might be a bit more like normal.
Take care,
Alan

[Neville]

.. every now and again, it does indeed .. am not surprised you have connections, I would have been more surprised if you hadn't ..
Am certainly looking forward to an ounce or two of normality .. Take care too Alan ..

Neville

[barleygirl]

It's always Christmas when I'm plowing thru my reading library & stumble on one of your stories. This is one of your best. I love every twist & turn, meticulous timing/pacing, along with unmistakable foreshadow which works perfectly to create anticipation for your reveal. I love how you take your time & meander thru the exquisite thrill of exploring & explaining this "find" . . . but I also read this as real life mixed with fictional embellishment (one of my favorite genres!) I have read at least 20 books about Himalaya treks, including The Snow Leopard (about a mystic hiking up to a monastery to spend some time -- I was reminded of this book, reading your opening). This story is the perfect blend of all your writing tendencies . . . teaching about something worldly & momentous . . . sharing some of your real-life travels . . . imagineering real-life into an almost-believable fantasy. Makes me long to find some idea where I can try to achieve something similar, blending real-life with fantasy! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[alanwgraham]

Many thanks Margie. We inherited one of these old cameras when my wife's uncle passed away. Also I went to a talk in the late 70s by Odell who was the last man to see GLM alive. I suppose these triggered the story. To change the subject you must be so pleased to have Biden running things now.
Take care.
Alan