Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
feet. There, on May 28, he pitched Camp IV beneath a huge, arching ice cliff the team
had named the Sickle. On this exposed slope, a small serac served as a protecting wall
uphill from the tents.
As well as Herzog was climbing, his morale soared even higher. “I felt . . . complete
confidence in our victory,” he wrote later. “Annapurna was practically in the bag.”
Nor can this optimism be attributed to retrospect: Terray, assailed by his own doubts,
marveled at his partner's sanguine faith in the team's success.
Recuperating at Camp II on the night of May 28, Terray and Herzog discussed the
situation in exhaustive detail.
Maurice was very put out by the poor physical and moral state in which he found the oth-
ers. Although he had spent no more than a few minutes in their company he considered
them sick, discouraged, and altogether incapable of effective action.
Out of that evening's analysis, a plan was born. It was clear to Herzog that if anyone
would be capable of making the summit, it would be himself and Terray. The next day,
he proposed, the better-rested Terray would carry a load with two Sherpas up to Camp
III, then descend again to II. On the following day, with four Sherpas rebreaking trail,
Terray and Herzog would climb all the way to Camp IV. On the third day, the pair
would carry the essentials for a light camp up through a notch in the Sickle, find a site
for Camp V somewhere on the bare, windswept snowfield above, and go for the top the
following morning. The monsoon was now firmly predicted to arrive by June 5. If all
went according to Herzog's plan, he and Terray would stand atop Annapurna on June
1.
Yet there was a flaw in the plan. Even as Terray and Herzog plotted in Camp II, the
other four climbers were trying to carry loads to Camp IV. Their support was vital, for
without a well-stocked garrison at IV, a summit dash was far too risky.
On the 29th of May, as Terray climbed toward III, he met Couzy and Lachenal com-
ing down. To his great dismay, Terray learned that the other four climbers had been
too exhausted to haul their loads to IV. A little later, he crossed paths with a dejected
Rébuffat and Schatz.
“As a result of their lack of form,” Terray wrote succinctly in 1961, “my compan-
ions had been unable to fulfill their mission . . . and this threw the whole operation
out of phase.” That night in Camp III, Terray struggled with a moral dilemma few
Himalayan climbers have confronted. Camp IV had not been supplied. The summit
push with Herzog would therefore have to be delayed. And someone—clearly not
the played-out quartet of descending teammates—would have to get gear and food
to IV. The fittest Sherpas could pull off the job, but it would be irresponsible to send
