Mt. Baldy 200km Brevet, March 16, 2002
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Mt. Baldy 200km Brevet

by Daniel Penado, CP1/3 (Azusa) Sherpa

At dawn, I, Sherpa Daniel, brewed up a flask full of hot herb drink, loaded down my trusty yak and headed up ahead of the climbers. I wanted to stake out a protected ledge from which they could begin their courageous assault on the mountain. Soon, Chief Sherpa Chris arrived with his yak train burdened down with all of the supplies the climbers were expected to require. His arrival was just in time.

No sooner had we struck camp when the first climbers arrived from the more populated flatlands. They appeared to be in good condition and strong spirits. We all laughed heartily as they recounted incidents from their past glories. Each replenished his or her supplies and took only a brief rest. In endeavors of this sort, rather than strenghtening, too much rest makes weakness. Soon, all climbers had visited Base Camp and had struck out for the summit in twos and threes. The last two -- both women -- passed through some time after the rest but they were both confident, world-class athletes and I did not find cause for alarm.

As I waited alone in the now silent camp (Chief Sherpa had long since set out for the peak), I felt a gentle breeze pick up and the temperature begin to drop. Looking skyward in the direction of the mountain, I could see dark clouds gathering, covering the sun. What had started out as a nice, clear, sunny sky was now turning ominous. Other expeditions had suffered mightily and ended in tragedy when the weather had suddenly and unexpectedly turned stormy.

I began to worry for the climbers. I remembered that they sought to minimize their climbing loads. Many did not carry gear which would protect them if conditions worsened. The hours dragged by and the day grew colder. I began to wonder if even I would have to seek shelter.

Then, I was overjoyed as the first climber came into sight! He told me that after a great struggle against the mountain, he had cautiously chosen to turn back. I admired his careful wisdom. Soon, another climber arrived. He told of a woeful disorientation. He had climbed strongly but he had missed the route to the summit where Chief Sherpa awaited. Instead, he had been forced to scale additional peaks only to return to Base Camp without having grasped the prize.

After some additional time had passed, a group returned from the mountain. Although they had left looking strong and shouting confidently, they now shivered from the bitter cold and cursed the skies. They told tales which chilled the blood in my veins: stories of men suffering hypothermia, cramping seizures, near-uncontrolled descents, snow...and of body parts frozen, at risk of frostbite and...I cannot bear to think on it! Given the spartan constraints of this expedition, however, I lamented that I had no hot sustenance to comfort them. Courageous men all, they complained not and resumed their descent to the sanctuary of their journey's beginning.

The day wore on, the sky grew darker still and the temperature plummeted relentlessly. Even in my relatively comfortable station, I shivered and wondered at the fates of those brave souls still out on the mountain. As each returned, I anxiously checked them off of a list, happy to see the reduction in the number still unaccounted for.

It grew late -- too late for a final assault on the summit -- and Chief Sherpa Chris returned from the treacherous and inhospitable peak. His many years of experience, knowledge of the mountain and skill at yak-herding enabled him to overtake many climbers as he descended. As he passed some, he stopped to make sure that they were fully supplied, but most of the climbers could not be persuaded to turn back. He joined me at Base Camp to await the return of the last climbers.

The fearful minutes and hours continued to drag by. Small groups of climbers -- now severely tested in body but still forceful in determination -- trickled through camp on their way back down the mountain. Darkness threatened and the last returning climbers were made ready for a nighttime descent.

I felt a great sense of joy when the last of the climbers reached Base Camp. Though cold, stiff and sore, all had returned safely. We could now break camp and I could return to my comfortable village many miles away.

That night, I again could sleep in a warm bed, covered with many blankets and skins. I lay there and thought of those strong, brave climbers who had vanquished the mountain. They had much to celebrate and be proud of. As for myself, I was inspired by their power and courage...but I wondered: could I ever accomplish such a feat? Though I was not cold, I shivered...

A few comments from the Regional Brevet
Administrator, Chris Kostman

There's not much to add to Daniel Penado's excellent ride report, except to wholeheartedly thank the volunteers:

• Start/Finish: Paul Sparrow Hawk Biron
• CP1 and CP3 in Azusa: Daniel Penada
• CP2 on Mt. Baldy: Rob Tyck and Chris Kostman