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“All mountains are beautiful, but no mountain is worth dying for” - Greg Child

Approaching Aconcagua

I arrived in Argentina on Dec. 27th and started hiking to base camp on the 29th. I was going solo and unguided, aiming to become the second youngest in the world and the youngest American ever to solo it. I made it to base camp at 14,009ft no problem, took a rest day, then spent 2 days ferrying loads and eventually moving to camp 1 at 16,300ft. I used my sat phone to check weather reports and found out that the only break in the weather was to be in 3 days (which would be my 7th day on the mountain, when i had originally planned to make my first summit bid on the 12th day). I felt fine with the altitude, and decided to cache some food and unnecessary gear at camp one and move directly to advanced base camp at Nido de Condores at just under 18,000ft. I spent a rest day there, then left the next morning at 3:15am for the summit at 22,841ft.

Going for the summit

I felt great and was making good time until Refugio Indepencia at about 21,000ft, at about 5:45am. Both my 3 liter insulated camel back and insulated Nalgene bottle had froze over the night inside my sleeping bag, so I blamed my coughing and dry-hiving on dehydration. As I continued on traversing the long scree- slope my coughing and dry-hiving were growing worse by the minute, so I stopped and put both my camel back and Nalgene inside my down parka and waited for them to thaw. Having sat there and drank a liter of water I felt better for the time being and assumed I was good to go. I continued moving up to about 21,800ft where you begin the crux of the climb - a 1,400ft vertical gain of 35-45 degree scree (loosely packed rocks and dirt that slide down hill whenever you put pressure on them). I had a small group following closely behind me, waiting for me to pick the path of least resistance through this hill from hell, and feeling weak and immobile I sat down to let them pass.

The Rescue

Suddenly I woke up and they were 20 minutes ahead of me, having been hiking for 8 hours after 3 hours of sleep I guess I was a little tired. I spent another hour or two approaching the horizontal trail through the scree at about 22,815ft that lead directly to the summit. As I got closer, I noticed something yellow sticking out of the rocks and ice maybe 30ft down from the summit. I had been hiking part of the trail with 2 guys I met at advanced base camp the previous day, and one of them, CJ, came upon this yellow fabric about 5 minutes before I got there. I watched him approach it while i was climbing up, and was shocked as all hell to see it roll over and come crawling/falling out of the little whole, reveling itself to be a grown man in a yellow parka.

When I got to him I instantly noticed that his lips were blue/purple and his face was ghostly white. I saw his pack next to him and could see his gloves, sleeping bag, and sleeping pad all sticking out or strapped on to it, he wasn´t using any of it. I reached out to exam his hands and put my mittens over them - they were again completely white, swollen to twice their normal size, and stiff as wood. After taking in all of the horrors I could see on his body, I listened in as CJ tried to communicate with him. The man´s throat was so dry and he was so dehydrated and hypothermic that he was unable to utter a sound. I had brought my stove up in case of emergency, and immediately began to boil some water to make him some tea. After a good liter (most of which he coughed back up) he was able to utter a few words at a time. He said he was from Austria, or maybe Australia (he didn´t remember), and he didn´t have a clue what his name was. Myself, CJ, and the other hiker from camp Ty, spent roughly 3 hours at what my altimeter told me to be 22,810 ft (31ft below the summit) stripping this man of his wet clothes and replacing them with our dry clothes, I gave him most of my food and nearly all of my water, and eventually a guided expedition showed up that had 2 guides, 1 of which we convinced to take this man back down to Refugio Indepencia where a helicopter could take him to a hospital.

Making the right decision

Almost the instant he left, the adrenaline wore off, and I began violently coughing and throwing up blood. I had felt confident that I could make it to the summit and back down, but having skipped 5 days of acclimatization I was no where near prepared to spend 3 hours practically on the summit. Now out of water, out of food, and having been exposed to the elements without my down parka and mittens, I was feeling pretty shitty. With the coughing and vomiting blood, extreme headache, and dizziness, I was experiencing all of the beginning stages of HAPE (High Altitude Pulmonary Edema), and my lungs were slowly filling with blood. I took one last look at the summit which was within a 5 minute walk, and I high tailed it down to Nido as fast as I could.

Nido de Condores was quite literally a straight shot down from the summit, a little over 5,000 vertical feet down the scree. What should have taken no more than 3 hours ended up taking the better part of 6 or 7, as I found myself stumbling and falling over due to the coughing/vomiting. I felt infinitely better as the air provided more and more oxygen as I descended, and by 20,000ft I was able to start looking back on what had just happened.

I dedicated the last 4 months of my life to training mentally and physically, and preparing gear and logistics for this expedition which would give me the title of the youngest American to solo it, I had got within 5 minutes of the summit, and I had turned around. Much to my surprise, the feeling of disappointment and regret never once crept into my mind. I hike because I enjoy the simplicity of life, I climb because I enjoy the experience, and I mountaineer because I enjoy the challenge. I´m trying to climb the seven summits because it´s fun, the title of the youngest to do it would just be a perk. I planned, trained for, and experienced a very successful expedition, and was able to view nearly every part of the route I intended, and I was able to take part in saving a man´s life. I´ve been told by mountaineers that the decision to turn around is never the wrong one, but I didn´t fully grasp and appreciate it until now. As I stumbled down the scree thinking about this man from Austria, or Australia, a quote from a mountaineer by the name of Greg Child rang in my head "All mountains are beautiful, but no mountain is worth dying for".

I made it to base camp alright and the coughing and vomitting nearly stopped completely, though I was unable to sleep much due to the headache. I immediately packed up and moved down to base camp at 14,009ft at Plaza de Mulas, and felt tremendously better. While in base camp, I ran into CJ and he informed me that he had met some paramedics on his descent that gave him info on the condition of the mystery man. The paramedic informed him that his name was Hermone, and he was more than likely going to lose both hands, the majority of his nose, parts of his face and ears, and he assumed some toes as well. The paramedic then told him that had he not been discovered in another 6 hours or so, he would be dead.

I left base camp at 7am today to make the 15 mile hike back to the highway in solitude. The air, overly abundant with oxygen, provided me ample energy to make the hike in an extremely rapid pace, while enjoying the last views of the mountain. I had only spent a little over a week at base camp and above, but with all that happened and all that I experienced I felt taken aback by the foreign appearance of grass and everything else that was green. I learned a great deal about expedition planning, high altitude mountaineering, and about myself on this trip, and I wouldn´t change a thing.

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