90
it to a relatively safe area. Two days later, upon
returning to pick up their gear, it was gone. An
avalanche had swept it into a crevasse.
ABOVE 20,000
feet, where Morrison and Nelson pitched camp
to acclimatize, the body can no longer be trusted.
Hunger dissipates even as the body, absorbing
food less efficiently, needs more fuel. Less oxygen
reaches the brain, making sleep difficult. Every
task becomes laborious. The world shrinks.
At night the couple organized their gear, each
item integral. A sleeping bag became an ecosys-
tem: the pee bottle (altitude makes you go more),
the GU energy packets, the batteries, stored next
to the body to keep them from shorting. They
became fixated on weight. Morrison thought he
should carry more; he weighed more, after all.
Nelson hated that logic. She wanted to be equals
in everything.
In reality, she hated anything that divided her
by gender, even implicitly. Early in her career she
had found that male climbers, impatient to keep
going, would often just solve the problem for an
inexperienced female peer rather than teaching,
making mentors hard to come by. Sherpas tended
to listen to men more than women. Locals often
held antiquated notions. Once, in Lebanon, a man
tried to buy her for three goats.
Now, as she pushed back, Morrison told her
weight wouldn’t matter if they didn’t make their
window. A storm was set to hit on the night of
Sept.30. He did the math: To ski Lhotse, they
would need to be off the summit by 2 p.m. at the
latest. They would have to skip Camp Four entirely.
It further complicated matters that Morrison
and Nelson were not only trying to make history
but also trying out a relationship. And love brings
with it vulnerability. Which is great if you’re going
on vacation together, and not so great if you’re
about to enter something called the death zone.
THEY BEGAN
Day 29 before 2 a.m., flanked by Fu Tashi Sherpa,
Ila Nuru Sherpa, and Dutch and Nick. (The other
sherpas had set trail the day before.) The terrain
was alternately rock, ice and snow. Sometimes
they waded through drifts; sometimes they
crawled on all fours. As they passed 25,000 feet,
progress slowed in the thinning air. Step. Pause.
Breathe. Step.
A little after 5 a.m., dawn broke. The light grew
in the east, a warming pink, then hit the tips of
the peaks and, finally, washed over them. Nelson
paused to take it in, enraptured—later, she would
wonder if that moment was as close to the meaning
of life as you can get—then continued on.
By noon, with 1,200 feet to go, they had entered
the death zone. At this elevation humans can sur-
vive for only a limited time. Their bodies were now
actively working against them, siphoning energy
reserves, impeding judgment. Their pace slowed.
Nelson lifted the oxygen mask to her face. Instantly,
she knew something was wrong. Introducing oxy-
gen to a depleted body at that altitude can spike
body temperature. From nearly hypothermic, she
DREAM TIME
After climbing
for 28 days,
Morrison skied
the line that had
to that point been
unconquerable.
L O V E A ND
LHOTSE
