July 7, 2000

Everest: cerebral edemas, avalanches and crevasses

Iqaluit resident Gabriel Philipi didn’t quite make it to the top of Mount Everest, but he had a lot of fun anyway.

SEAN McKIBBON
Nunatsiaq News

IQALUIT— No one climbs down the Khumbu ice-fall in the afternoon.

The Khumbu, a jumble of bungalow-sized chunks of ice that sits between Base Camp and Camp One on the way to the top of Mount Everest, is just too unstable.

After the morning sun has melted some of it, the Khumbu becomes a maze of ice that is ready to fall, with no ledge or hand-hold you can be confidence in.

But Gabriel Philipi, a site manager at the Iqaluit airport, found himself climbing down it one afternoon, trying to stay alive and out of the way of the massive blocks of ice that would periodically tumble down around him.

His head was swimming with a cerebral edema — a build up of fluid in the brain caused by lack of oxygen, and he knew if he didn’t get help fast he would die.

"One of the Spanish climbers, told me I was walking around like a drunk man," says Philipi, recalling the reason for his harrowing climb back for medical attention.

He had suffered hypothermia the night before at Camp Two, and had gone down to the advance base camp just above the Khumbu to get a new sleeping bag. That was when a Spanish climber recognized the signs of acute mountain sickness, and told Philipi to head back down.

Etched his features

Sitting in a coffee shop in Iqaluit, Philipi is about as far away from Everest and the danger of a cerebral edema as a person can physically get. But the signs of his trip up the world’s highest summit remain etched on his features.

Rake thin, Philipi looks he’s been on the ultimate exercise plan. He lost 35 pounds on his trip and is now trying to build his weight back up to his original 170 pounds.

"When you are that high up, your body starts to slow down because of the lack of oxygen. Your digestion slows down. You can barely eat anything," he says.

He looks tired, the way someone who’s run a race looks tired, but his eyes light up as re-calls his adventure.

"I can feel the contact with the mountain — it’s really hard to explain."

Philipi got the opportunity to go to Everest after meeting a Nepalese mountain climber named Babu in Montreal last September. Babu has successfully climbed Everest ten times, Philipi says.

"He invited me to join him on this expedition." Everest isn’t Philipi’s first major mountain. That was Chile’s Mount Aconcagua in 1996 in Chile. But it would certainly be one of Philipi’s most memorable.

Cystic fibrosis campaign

Philipi, Babu and two other men formed a team and began raising the funds they would need to go on the trip.

Philipi, with the assistance of his employer Nav Can, also began to raise money for cystic fibrosis research by selling tee-shirts and posters related to his climb. It’s a cause he will continue to raise money for with slide shows and speeches about his trip.

So far, he says, his efforts have gathered $7,000 to fight the disease. He and Babu are also attempting to raise money to build a school for 60 children in Nepal.

But Philipi says that unlike some other climbers, he went to Everest for the fun and adventure more than anything else.

"Byron [Smith] was there more as a businessman than a climber," Philipi says, referring to another Canadian expedition to Everest led by Byron Smith. Smith’s hype-ridden Everest climb featured ads, daily TV spots on CBC Newsworld and considerably more sponsorship than Philipi’s.

"I go on the mountain to have fun. When it’s just you and the mountain you become one with the mountain."

He describes his trip down the Khumbu as "fun."

"You really get to test your body," he says. He talks about the danger in a quasi-mystical fashion.

Enjoyed the risk

Philipi says he enjoyed the risk. He enjoyed crossing giant crevasses on rickety, metal ladders bound together with rope. He recalls that early on in the trip he took a National Post reporter up to one of the first such ladder bridges on the trip.

The reporter was at first cautious crossing the ladder — as everyone is, Philipi says — but afterwards the reporter said he enjoyed it.

"You have to listen to the mountain. Listen to what it’s telling you." Philipi says that by watching for danger signs, and paying attention to the effect the mountain has on the body, a person can develop a closer link with nature.

Those who don’t respect that link pay the price, he says. Between 1953 and 1998, 134 people have died trying to reach the top of Mount Everest.

Camp Four, the final camp before the summit, is littered with the bodies of people who did not heed the warning signs.

"It was worse than hell," Philipi says. "You don’t want to spend a long time there." He says the bodies lie there because climbers can’t carry the dead back.

"When you are that high up, the only thing you can carry is your own body," he says.

Only about 800 metres away from the summit, Camp Four is temptingly close to the top. Some people want to reach the top so badly, they take risks they shouldn’t take.

Philipi’s group did not make it all the way to the top. Bad weather forced him to stop 500 metres away from the summit.

But Philipi says he isn’t disappointed. He got close and he says he had fun. It was his attitude of being on the climb for fun, he says, that made the decision to stop easier. Some climbers, he says, are too goal-oriented.

"I see a lot of climbers. They don’t have patience. If there’s bad weather they are going to climb anyway," but that is exactly how people get hurt, Philipi says.