The MountainWorld™ Blog

In Memoriam: Roe Duke Watson, 1915-2010: A Quiet Legend is Lost

I wish I knew him better.

I wish I had spent more time with him, hearing his stories and gathering in some of his contagious zest for life.

I wish I had visited more often, and stayed a bit longer.

I wish.

And, I guess those are the thoughts we always are faced with when someone near, dear, and special passes onto the next adventure.

Roe "Duke" Watson was one of a rare breed. A great adventurer, businessman, and just a wonderful person, I grew up hearing lore and legend of "your great Uncle Duke". And, when I grew older and got to know him more, I learned there was no lore or legend, only the truths of a life lived well, lived fully, lived with integrity.

Uncle Duke's accomplishments are far too numerous to go through here, and Lowell Skoog already did a magnificent job of capturing Duke's life and accomplishments in his 2006 article for the Northwest Mountain Journal entitled Duke Watson: A Mountaineer for All Seasons. But, I would be remiss if I didn't make mention of at least a few of his notable accomplishments:

• Western Military Academy & University of Michigan graduate, 1937
• March, 1941: drafted into the Army, a soon requests transfer into the new 87th Mountain Regiment, later to become the famed Tenth Mountain Division
• February 24, 1945: Duke leads his battalion up Mount della Torraccia in the Apennine Mountains. He barely survives a near-direct hit by a 170mm German howitzer shell, which tore open his abdomen. Duke crawls back downhill and, eventually, to safety, under his own power.
• 1958: First ascent, with Fred Beckey, of the North Face of Golden Horn in Washington (see page 304-305)
• 1960: First ascent of the west summit of Black Peak, Washington
• 1962: Crystal Mountain Ski Area opens, which was the vision of Duke and several others beginning in 1955
• 1963: first winter ascent of South Twin Sister, near Mount Baker, Washington
• Over a 20 year period, Duke canoed over 20,000 miles throughout Canada, retracing old routes and linking passage across the north of the continent

Despite all his accomplishments, Duke was always humble. His first ascents in Washington happened almost accidentally, and were never bragged about. Asked what he did in World War II, and his reply would usually be something like: "Oh, I fought a little in the mountains. Nothing much." Crystal Mountain? "It was a neat idea. We all loved to ski." Canoeing across the forbidding northern waters? "Well, it is just something I love to do."

Over the years, Duke served as inspiration and role model for me, an icon of someone who lived life fully, every day, rain or shine, and generally did so with a grand smile. Even in his 90's, he was still climbing Mount Si near Seattle, which ascends over 4,000 feet in about 4 miles. "Oh, it's just a little hike," Duke told me...at age 92.

Duke will be sorely missed. He is survived by his wife Marillyn, his sons Alan, Bart, and Rolfe, and his grandsons Sam and Luke, and of course an extended family and many close friends.

But, like so many great souls, Duke will go on inspiring through his life, his actions, his way of being. Skoog ended his article on Uncle Duke very well:

Duke planned the final leg of his trans-Canada canoe crossing to be the segment reaching the Pacific Ocean. Fittingly, his wife, Marillyn, accompanied him on this trip. When they finally reached tidewater, Duke, perhaps reluctant to admit that the journey was finished, kept paddling straight out into the Bering Sea. To Marillyn, it seemed he was headed for Japan. Exasperated, she asked, “Duke, will you ever stop?” He lifted his paddle and paused, content for a moment to call a halt. But they both knew he would not keep still for long. In retrospect, they agreed that was a metaphor for Duke Watson’s long life of outdoor adventure.

So, I find myself today a bit melancholy. But, I'll try to do as Duke would have done. I'll go into the mountains. I'll climb high into the clean, fresh air. I'll commune a bit with the hills, and perhaps with Uncle Duke. I'll drape a khata in a high, solitary, beautiful place, blowing Duke's spirit to the winds. I know he'll not be far away.

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.

Charlie Houston "Brotherhood of the Rope" Video

I've written quite a bit about Charlie Houston, the climbing legend who sadly passed away in September.

Just the other day, I came upon a video of Charlie speaking and sharing his film from K2 in 1953. It was shot in 2005, but includes the entire DVD that shipped with his memoir, The Brotherhood of the Rope.

Watch, and enjoy:

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.

National Geographic Adventure...is no more...

Some sad news coming today from Steve Casimiro, West Coast Editor at National  Geographic Adventure. On his blog, The Adventure Life, Steve reports today that National Geographic decided to end Adventure's ten year run as one of the top adventure and outdoor magazines in the world.

According to Steve, it's final issue is the December/January issue, which is on newsstands now.

I've had a great time not only reading, but also contributing to, Adventure over the years, and my heart goes out to Steve, founding Editor John Rasmus, and all the others affected by the closing.

Steve put it quite well at the end of his post:

For those of you who are just passing readers of the magazine, its demise might be a mere curiosity or random note of economic discord. But for those of us who care about good writing, great photography, insight and curiosity and advocacy for an engaged relationship with the world at large, it is a truly remorseful day. The outdoor culture is far emptier for this news. Magazines are, of course, businesses, and some of them are nakedly commercial. But some are built around an idea or a calling, and these, the best of them, can create an emotional bond with their readership based on shared philosophy, common passion, and mutual respect. National Geographic Adventure’s tagline, “Dream It. Plan It. Do It.”, is a powerful call to action. More critically, it puts the focus on the reader, where it should be, to get up, get out, and get going. If past experience is any guide, those of us who have been connected to National Geographic Adventure, either as readers, contributors, or both, will carry fragments of that DNA with us, whether we’re writing, shooting photos, or simply out in the world. The magazine might not have survived this economy, but its ideals will. And for that, we should be thankful.

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.

The Basics of Altitude: A Primer on AMS, HACE, & HAPE, Part II

Last week, I wrote about the tragic death of Morgan Boisson, which in turn led me to  a post about High Altitude Cerebral Edema, or HACE.

This morning there was yet another sad reminder of the dangers of altitude in my inbox. Today it was the story of John Campbell. Mr. Campbell was on a trek to the Basecamp of Kanchenjunga - the world's third highest peak - with Jamling Tenzing Norgay when he came down with what sounds like HACE. While valiant efforts were made by the Sherpa trek staff and by his daughter, Campbell sadly passed away on October 28, 2009. 

While Mr. Campbell seems to have passed away from HACE, his death is still a reminder that we all should be prepared for high altitude ailments, and be ready to act on them, when we go into the mountains. Campbell was not a newcomer to altitude. According to web resources, he was an avid hiker, going on many trips into the High Sierra, and has already done treks to the Basecamps of Everest and K2.

So, last week we talked about HACE, and now it's time to discuss a bit about HAPE, or High Altitude Pulmonary Edema. 

In my experience, HACE is a bit more common than HAPE, perhaps because studies point to it being a more intense form of Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS). I've personally run into cases of HACE on many expeditions. Last week, I mentioned the story of Miguel Tello, who had both HACE and HAPE on Nevado Huascaran in Peru.
On Everest in 2001, we had another, quite similar situation. 

On May 7, 2001, Tap Richards, John Race, and I were ascending the East Rongbuk Glacier en route to Advanced Basecamp and the beginning of our summit bid. At about 20,000 feet, near the old pre-World War II Camp 2, we came upon 3 Tibetan yak herders carrying a sick Chinese glaciologist, Mr. Gao, down the mountain. Another Chinese scientist, Mr. Li, staggered behind; he was sick, too, but in much better shape.

We knew immediately that our summit bid was off; it was obvious to us that, if we did not act, Mr. Gao would most likely die before reaching Basecamp. He was barely breathing, unresponsive to pain, cold, and generally looking awful.

And so began a challenging rescue, carrying the 180 pound Mr. Gao on our backs, with amazing help from the yak herders and other Tibetans who came up, as well as additional members of our team. For hours, Mr. Gao slipped in and out of consciousness, at times choking on his swollen tongue and often looking like, despite our efforts, he was not going to make it.

But, finally, after about 10 hours of work, we got Mr. Gao into a jeep at the mouth of the Rongbuk Valley. Soon he was in our expedition Gamov Bag and being tended to by our expedition doctor, Lee Meyers. Early the next morning, in stable condition, Mr. Gao was loaded into a jeep and driven off to the hospital in Shigatse.

It was a close call, but Mr. Gao survived. (A week later, Mr. Li drove back into Basecamp with a box full of apples and pears, a nice thank you from he and Gao for helping save their lives.) Had Gao's teammates known the basics of high altitude medicine - and warning signs to look for - this all might have been avoided.

So, what do we look for as signs and symptoms of High Altitude Cerebral Edema? Here's some basics:

• Often one of the first telltale signs is a headache. Cerebral edema is fluid gathering inside the cranial cavity and putting pressure on the brain; thus, a persistent headache, which most often will not go away even with aspirin or ibuprofen, and coupled with ascent to a new altitude, is an early sign of HACE.
• Ataxia, or loss of balance resulting in unsteady walking, is another common sign of HACE. However, much depends on where the pooling fluid in the brain is putting pressure; various changes in mental and physical state can be evident:
  
  • uneven pupil dilation
  • slurred speech
  • inability to remember basics like name, date, time of day, etc.
  • loss of fine motor control

As with HAPE, these are the early warning signs, but things generally deteriorate rapidly afterward. In general, someone with early signs of HACE who is not treated will, within 24 hours, become unconscious, slip into a coma, and pass away. This is serious stuff!

But, again like HAPE, HACE does have some simple, effective treatments.

1. DESCEND, DESCEND, DESCEND! Descent is the only surefire treatment for HACE, and again the rule of thumb is descent of 3,000 feet or more.
2. If descent is not immediately possible, there are some options to "buy" some time:
   
   • Put the patient in a Gamow bag, or Portable Altitude Chamber (PAC)
   • Put the patient on high flow oxygen, 8 liters per minute or more
   • If available, dexamethasone is a great medication for HACE. Dex is a powerful anti-inflammatory steroid which in this case helps reduce cerebral pressure from HACE. Whereas niphedipene works only sometimes in treating HAPE, I've found that dexamethasone is very effective in reducing the severity of HACE. Dex comes in tablet and injectable forms; I always carry both. As with any drug, know how to use dex before you go, and make sure your climbing companions do, too - it could save your life, or theirs!

Those are some of the basics of HACE. Again, these are the rules of thumb and actions I take whenever I'm climbing or guiding in the high mountains. I've seen HACE in climbers and others on Rainier, in Colorado, on Kilimanjaro, and of course in the Himalaya.

We all go into the mountains prepared physically, and prepared with our equipment. But, many people forget to be prepared medically as well. Know your body. Know the dangers. Know what to look for.

And, remember, the mountain will be there another day...the important thing is that you are around to climb it another day!

In the next - and final issue - of this primer, I'll talk a bit about the most important aspect of high altitude medicine: How to prevent these ailments from occurring in the first place! Rule #1: Choose your parents!

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.

The Basics of Altitude: A Primer on AMS, HACE, & HAPE

Altitude has been on my mind a lot recently; my colleagues and I at the American Mountaineering Museum are putting the final touches on a new exhibit called Thin Air: Altitude and Oxygen. It will open at the Museum this month.

I awoke Tuesday morning to a sad story in my inbox about a University of Arizona student, Morgan Boisson, who died near Rongbuk Monastery, at the foot of the Tibetan side of Mount Everest, on October 20, 2009.

Boisson was on a study abroad program in Nanjing, China, and traveled to Rongbuk with classmates on a a 10 day tour in Tibet.

Judging from the article I read and the symptoms described, Boisson was died from HAPE, or High Altitude Pulmonary Edema. And, sadly, he was not the first to die this way at Rongbuk, nor will he probably be the last.

We tend to think of severe altitude sickness like HAPE, and it's equally dangerous cousin, HACE (High Altitude Cerebral Edema), as something that only effects climbers. When we're "just trekking" or - like Boisson and the thousands of others who travel in Tibet each year - visiting the high country in a vehicle, we rarely give much thought to the effects of high altitude and the accompanying hazards.

But, these are major dangers for climbers, trekkers, tourists, and anyone traveling to altitude. In fact, Telluride's Institute for Altitude Medicine (IFAM), estimates that altitude sickness costs the Colorado ski industry upward of $200 million each year!

Thus, it's always a good idea to know the basics of HAPE and HACE - and even the more benign AMS, or Acute Mountain Sickness - and to have some tricks up your sleeve to deal with it if it hits a companion, or you.

For today, let's talk a bit about HAPE. I'll write later on about HACE if people are interested.

To begin, keep in mind I am not a doctor, and I don't even play one on TV. But, I do play one in the mountains quite often, treating clients and fellow travelers and local people we encounter along the way. Anyone wanting to know all the in-depth analysis of AMS, HAPE, and HACE should read articles available online at IFAM and the Altitude Research Center. That said, the following are some rules of thumb for altitude, and the things I look for in my clients - and in myself - whenever I travel to altitude.

HAPE, although very dangerous, is fairly rare, especially in travels below 15,000 feet. But, it does occur. IFAM tabulated only 150 cases over a 3 year period in Colorado's Summit County, and estimates that only about 1 in 10,000 skiers develops HAPE during their travels to the high country.

However, in my travels to mountains around the world, I've seen it a lot. From 10,000 foot Camp Muir on Mount Rainier to the 19,000 foot Garganta Camp on Nevado Huascaran in Peru to climbers dying high on the North Side of Everest, HAPE occurs all over the place, and is never a nice thing.

In general, the first signs of possible HAPE, and the ones I am on the lookout for in the mountains, are:

• A sudden and marked decline in ability to "keep up"
• Inability to catch one's breath, even when at rest
• Unnaturally elevated heartrate, even when at rest
• "Rails" or rattling/wheezing/crackling sound in the lungs

If you see these symptoms in yourself or your teammate, it's time to act. While it may not be HAPE, these are generally telltale signs, and the symptoms will progress rapidly downward if HAPE is indeed at play.

If a pulse-oximeter is on hand, it can be used and, in the case of HAPE, will show a decreased oxygen saturation level in the patient. Without a pulse-ox, oxygen saturation can be "guesstimated" by looking for a bluish, somewhat ashen look to the skin and a blue-gray look to the lips and nail beds.

For most trips in the mountains, however, we'll need to decide and act fast. And, in my opinion, it's always best to be conservative with HAPE and HACE, and err on the side of caution. So, how do we treat HAPE?

Go down!

Seriously...go down, and go down now! The only true treatment for HAPE - and HACE - is to descend. And the rule of thumb is to descend at least 3000 feet.

But, what if descent is not an immediate option due to injury, weather, or other factors? Then, it's time for alternate plans which have hopefully been thought out in advance.

If oxygen is available, it should be administered at a high flow rate (i.e., 6-8 liters per minute). If a Gamov Bag or Portable Altitude Chamber is on hand, it should be used immediately. And, Nifedipine can be administered to help you buy some time as well. (Nifedipine, in layman's terms, reduces pulmonary arterial pressure and helps slow the leakage of blood and fluid into the lungs. 

Again, though, the only true treatment for High Altitude Pulmonary Edema is descent.

Here's a classic example: in 1998 on Huascaran in Peru, Jason Edwards, Maximo Henostroza, and I rescued Miguel Tello from high on the mountain. When we found him at 19,000 feet, he was ashen, hypothermic, wheezing, unconscious, and had an oxygen saturation of about 40%. Diagnosing hypothermia, HAPE, and HACE, we administered drugs accordingly and began immediate descent, with concurrent monitoring. After the textbook 3000 feet of descent, Miguel was responsive and moving in our makeshift litter. He made a full recovery, but may well have passed away high in the Andes if we hesitated in our descent.

So, next time you head for the hills, be prepared. HAPE and HACE are rare, but they do occur, and they do kill. Know your body. Know your treatment options. And, have plans at the ready to deal with these ailments if they occur.

Let me know via the comments if this was even remotely interesting to people. If so, I'll write something up about HACE as well. And, if not, I'll drift on to other topics!

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.

The Loss of a Legend: Dr. Charlie Houston, 1913-2009

Dr. Charles Houston, 1913-2009
From Alpinist Magazine

This morning, from several people, I heard the sad news that a climbing legend, Charlie Houston, passed away yesterday at his home in Burlington, Vermont.

Dr. Charles Snead Houston was a legend in every sense of the word. From pioneering climbs like Nanda Devi in 1936 and K2 1938 & 1953 to pioneering the field of high-altitude physiology, Dr. Houston never stopped forging ahead, breaking new ground and being a leader in all that he did.

I've written a great deal about Charlie on this blog, and there's too much to recount about his life here and now. So, here's a few resources if you are interested:

• The Brotherhood of the Rope post
• Post about Houston's memoir, The Brotherhood of the Rope
• Post about the passing of Bob Bates, a compatriot of Houston
• Thursday Thought from August 27, 2009, about Dr. Houston
• Interview with Houston on PBS NOW
• Books by and about Charlie Houston at Amazon

And, as I think he would like it, I'm going to head out into the hills today, and think about life, about mountains, and about the ever present and ever important Brotherhood of the Rope.

Dr. Houston...thank you for the memories...for the inspiration...for the joy and the stories and the legacy you leave to all of us. You will be missed.

Jake Norton is an Everest climber, guide, photographer, writer, and motivational speaker from Colorado.