Mount Everest
Michael Arnstein, My Experience
My numbers on Mt. Everest:
28
days
29,035
feet
Highest Point (Summit)
Fahrenheit
Temperature on the summit
bodies
frozen on the summit
A preface
I was born with a unique nature for risk and adversity; I have also lived a life with influences that have hardened my personality and ambition.
In this writing I will share some of my most personal perspectives in how I view common societal standards and the world as they relate to me as an individual. Many readers will not identify with my ideas or characterizations of how I experience life. Not all of my feelings and emotions are constant; I have experienced many seasons of change at different times in my life.
I have concerns about how some friends, family, colleagues and the public may view me as a person after reading some of the intensities of my thoughts and feelings. I am trying to be fearless in my honesty in moments of passion. I had a very intense life experience which has created some extreme responses, there may be some genuine post traumatic stress.
My name is Michael Arnstein.
This is my story of climbing Mt. Everest.
Mountain Climbing. Why?
What is it that draws humans to look up into the sky and want to rise above their existing vantage point?
There are as many nuanced answers to this question as there are mountain climbers. Each person has different motivations and aspirations in mountain climbing.
But why EVEREST? This is more of a dance with the angel of death than mountain climbing. It takes a special kind of crazy to take on this challenge.
A primal drive to test the will to survive. Humans have endured, evolved, many of us have grit; gained and maintained over the countless generations that have suffered and survived before us.
When you look at the human body and think carefully about how we are designed, it is fascinating. We have telescopic eyes, sense of smell, audible sensors in our ears, hairs on our skin to sense air movement and temperature, our long legs and arms, hands for grasping, standing vertically unlike most other creatures. Our large complex brains, we have extraordinary super-intelligence. The ability to endure great challenges both intellectually and physically. All our collective skills as a species has created abundance and comforts beyond our imaginations. So much success, but in some ways to our detriment.
Do you have any idea what you are capable of on a physical, emotional and spiritual level?
So few of us tap into our superhuman powers in modern times. Most people have become medicated android zombies going through life on a horizontal escalator; sometimes referred to as a car, bus, train, elevator, chair with wheels, mind numbing predictability from moment to moment, year to year.
I hate, I despise, I loathe the ease of existence today. I am embarrassed to think about how pathetically risk-free my own life is. I’ve become part of the zombie masses most days of my life, focused on collecting material conveniences and luxuries. Distracted by everything that glitters, offers an easier route to a sadder, more pathetic ease of existence. The result has numbed and disengaged our superhuman-powers.
Somehow I was able to escape the matrix at various times in my life I have taken on physical challenges to see what my maximum potential might be. My greatest moments of feeling alive have always come through the hardest challenges.
Mountain climbing is one way I have found to directly engage all of my god given senses.
Big. Big mountains turn off all the bullshit. It’s a way to teleport to 20,000 years ago when we were closer to resembling a beast than mankind as we know today; when we lived and died based on our individual instincts and will to survive.
Hell Yes. Mt. Everest. I am Here. I am Ready. Test Me.
NATURE OR NURTURE?
A short story about when I was born.
I came into this life during a storm of extremes, and whatever the case may be, it’s my nature. Maybe my mother should have named me Storm. It’s been to my benefit and to my detriment.
Read StoryYou can skip ahead to the summit picture, but how I got to the summit is the story.
So I suggest reading more about the backstory.
My steps to climb Mt. Everest started when I was just 13 years old.
December 1990
Heavenly Valley California 10,000ft elevation
Read Story
Fast forward 34 years...
25 Time Finisher: The Boston Marathon.
April 2024
Hopkinton Massachusetts
Read Story
April 18, 2024
KATHMANDU, NEPAL
I arrived in Kathmandu with a steadied mind. Although the idea of climbing Mt. Everest seems overwhelming, I feel genuinely prepared.
I’m in excellent physical shape, and just as important, the timing in my life is right. This gives me calm and peace of mind.
I waited until all my children were young adults and well situated in their own lives. My business has grown to a mature level, with excellent managers, and I have saved and invested well to take time off from work responsibly. My wife and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary earlier in the year. We are in a very good place in our relationship supporting each other's life passions. At 47 years old, I have built trust and security in all areas of my life.
I did the work. It took a lifetime to put the finances, the maturity, the courage, the health and the time in place. This is my time.
Within an hour of landing I board a helicopter for the 1 hour flight to Lukla, in the foothills of the Himalayan mountains.
Most people hike 7-10 days from Lukla to Basecamp so the body can adjust to the altitude. I skipped the hike: climbing Mt. Everest already takes 4+ weeks, and I had been sleeping in an altitude tent in New York for the past 5 weeks.
So I transfer my bags to another helicopter that will fly from Lukla to Basecamp (about 30 minutes). I was in Manhattan less than 2 days ago.
Tenzing Hillary Airport, Lukla
Helicopter landing and departure
Helicopter vids heading from Kathmandu to Lukla
Landing in Lukla is where the journey really begins.
BASECAMP
Arriving in Basecamp for the 2nd time in my life was maybe more exciting than my first visit to basecamp. The first time was the previous year; I had hiked from Lukla to Basecamp with my son Sam and daughter Charlotte. It was probably the most enjoyable experience I ever had with 2 of my 3 children. I gained valuable experience and perspective on climbing Mt. Everest while hiking through all the local villages and feeling the air and calling of the mountains.
I can confidently say when I arrived at Basecamp the 2nd time by helicopter, with the full intention of climbing Mt. Everest; it was even more exciting than my first visit. Mouth open, in awe and wonder I was enthralled like few other times in my life.
Flying in by helicopter.
Helicopter landing and departure at Basecamp
Panoramic view clip of Basecamp
First impressions, walking around
More walking around
Bathrooms at Basecamp
Shower and staying civilized at Mt. Everest Basecamp
Post shower commentary
I’ve always been someone who doesn’t follow rules unless I think they have practical value, which is why this flag is flying at Basecamp.
Pirates and monks balance each other out.
Hiking around Basecamp on a clear day.
A picture says a 1000 words.
A typical scene on the trails leading to Everest Basecamp.
THE SHERPA
The most unknown super humans on planet earth.
I can say with confidence that I have never witnessed the level of endurance and raw toughness of the Nepalese Sherpa. I could write chapters about them.
Here’s a video of a sherpa hauling 105kgs of plywood on his back; I saw him do this over 4 days on treacherous mountain paths in windy and cold weather.
The Sherpa people are the ones who make the accessibility and the magic of Everest possible.
KHUMBU
ICE FALLS
Basecamp to Camp 1
The Khumbu Ice Falls was the part of the route I feared most. Approximately 50 bodies lie under the ice from the past 70 years, the ice can come crashing down, and ladders cross crevasses where you can’t see the bottom, often in the dark.
At 4am I step off into the darkness of the khumbu icefalls. My breath blows into view from my headlamp as if I’m smoking a pipe. My breath twirls in circles fading into the darkness. Crampons, they make an unmistakable sound as the steel blades attached to my boots pierce the ground. It’s not a soothing noise, it’s the sound you hear when you’re moving over ice, lots of cold, hard ice.
I repeat in my mind over and over, I will not die today. Fear is the enemy.
When you leave Basecamp you are throwing yourself into the abyss; signed and sealed is your duel with the angel of death. You can be the best mountaineer in the world, but falling ice in the darkness is something the best mountaineers cannot avoid; it’s just luck or bad luck.
The darkness turns to light at about 5am. I had just come from New York, I was not ready for the altitude at 19,000ft, and I was moving very slowly.
Most people told me it would take about 5 hours to get through the Khumbu Ice Falls. It took me 9 hours and 20 minutes; I needed more time to acclimate, the altitude was really slowing me down.
The ice falls just after you leave basecamp, a small intro to what’s ahead.
Overhanging ice is everywhere.
Darkness of the Khumbu Ice Falls. Mt. Everest.
Ladders, lots of ladders.
Lakpa T
My Sherpa Guide
Lakpa T was my dedicated partner and guide on Mt. Everest, through the guide company Seven Summits, who did an excellent job from start to finish. He was soft spoken, very attentive and monitored my condition throughout. At 23 years old he had already climbed Everest 6 times, and he had also climbed K2.
His instagram is https://www.instagram.com/lakpa.climbs/
CAMP 1
Totally Exhausted
Arriving at Camp 1, I was totally exhausted. I was not ready for the altitude after arriving from New York less than 5 days earlier. Here’s my 9 min video with a lot of commentary
Hot in the sun by day, freezing at night; I had panic attacks that night.
I was one of the first non-sherpa climbers at Camp 1 in 2024. The views from Camp 1 were spectacular.
The base of Nuptse is probably the most impressive vertical rock face I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
Inside a high altitude tent. This was me for 24 hours trying to recover.
Having panic attacks all night, want to quit. Then in the morning the views, the moment...
Feeling great in this video, I was one of the first non-sherpa climbers at Camp 1 in 2024.
Intro to the cooking tent
The cooking prep tent
Proud to have my Boston Marathon jacket at Camp 1 just 6 days after I crossed the finish line.
CAMP 2
I was happy to be out of the Khumbu Ice Falls.
The weather and views on the way to Camp 2 were spectacular.
Hiking from Camp 1 to Camp 2
First impressions after arriving at Camp 2
Dinner time with the sherpas.
Lunch Time at Camp 2!
Sunset at Camp 2
Lunch at Camp 2
Camp 2 vlog about the experience and challenges up to this point: Watch Here
Camp 2 to Camp 3
Delayed
At Camp 2 I heard from the Sherpas that the ropes team had delays fixing ropes to Camp 4. With no ropes and no oxygen above Camp 3, I had to go back to Basecamp, which was frustrating after climbing half way up the mountain. I explain in this video about the issues.
In reality I was fortunate. My lungs were deteriorating, I needed more time to acclimate, and my cough (the Khumbu Cough) was getting worse.
I suffer through the Ice Falls again, but not as frightened as my first trip through; I suppose I was being desensitized to the danger the more time I spent in the Ice Falls.
High Altitude Breathing
Natural breathing heading from Camp 2 to Camp 3 at about 22,000ft.
Rather than spend up to 10 days at Basecamp waiting for ropes and oxygen to be supplied higher up, I followed a Basecamp doctor’s recommendation to recover from my serious cough at a much lower altitude.
So I left Basecamp.
NAMCHE BAZAAR
A most unusual mountain village in the Himalayas
Namche Bazaar, which I had visited a year before with my kids, offered a comfortable bed, fresh vegetables, a hot shower and a doctor who could test for a lung infection, at about 11,000ft. I would spend 3 days there, then hike back to Basecamp over 2-3 days.
Taking a chopper from Basecamp (17,500ft) to Namche Bazaar (11,000ft.)
Arriving in Namche Bazaar
Walking to town and seeing donkeys and local life
Center of town at Namche Bazaar
Sri Lankan flag outside a club/bar in Namche Bazaar.
Inside the same club; I got a club soda and relaxed.
Side Topic
What’s my mountain climbing resume?
Have I climbed other huge mountains?
Nope.
My mountain climbing is almost exclusively limited to Mt. Washington in New Hampshire. At 6200 ft it is low compared to Mt. Everest, but its winter wind, snow, ice and cold can equal Everest on many days. What makes Mt. Washington much safer is low chance of avalanche, and no altitude challenges with low oxygen levels.
I started climbing Mt. Washington in 1999 and have climbed it in mid winter about 20 times, almost always alone and always on my birthday (January 15). The coldest temperatures I have ever experienced were there on my birthday in 2004: -30F at the Hermit Lake shelter and -40F on the summit.
I didn’t summit that day. Above tree-line the winds were so strong I could not walk, and I crawled as far as I could before I realized I would get severe frostbite on the way back down.
I feel these solo Mt. Washington trips hardened my resume, along with my extensive ultra running background so I could go after Everest.
Other climbers I met at Everest were surprised that Mt. Washington was my only winter mountaineering experience, but I didn’t meet anyone on Everest who had run a 100 mile ultra marathon.
BACK TO BASECAMP
Trekking From Namche Bazaar back to Basecamp over 2 days (about 20 miles distance)
I felt great after 3 days in Namche and taking antibiotics; it was time to head back to Basecamp.
Heading back to Basecamp, crossing a bridge, I get a surge of energy.
On the way I was blessed by monks at a Buddhist monastery and given 10 red strands of string. Afterwards I felt welcomed by the mountains and had a sense of renewal.
For the first time I felt this was going to happen.
Crossing suspension foot bridges with yaks
Heading to Basecamp Mt Everest
Monastery on the way to basecamp with my many red string blessings
The Grand Finale
LEAVING BASECAMP TO CLIMB MT. EVEREST
I am rested, blessed by the monks, healthy and confident.
My 3rd trek through the Ice Falls.
My first trip through the ice falls took 9 hours and 20 minutes. Now, 2.5 weeks later, acclimatized and rested, it took 5 hours and 20 minutes, and I felt strong throughout.
My video farewell as I leave Basecamp
Getting light at about 5AM, about 50% through the ice falls
Crossing ladders
Crossing more ladders, uneven ladders!
Climbing back over the ice wall, about 80% through the ice falls
Climbing back over the ice wall
Just about to exit the ice falls, I have a brief avalanche scare
CAMP 1 AGAIN
I arrived at CAMP 1 in good spirits.
Lots of snow.
The camp was much more crowded this time, and it had been snowing for days. It felt very serious.
I had another night of panic attacks, but when the sun came up and the mountains came back into view, the thought of leaving faded.
The view with the snow was majestic.
CAMP 2
I left for Camp 2 early that morning with the excitement building.
Looking up towards Camp 2, the sun was laser-beaming us that day!
Arriving at Camp 2! Pointing up at Camp3.
Nighttime at Camp 2 with headlamp lights in the distance of climbers going to Camp 3.
Leaving Camp 2 and explaining the route up to Camp 3
No rope or ladder over very deep crevasse
Heading up the headwall over the serac to Camp 3
On top of the headwall / Serac
CAMP 3
My first impressions after just arriving at Camp 3, I’m tired!
I thought I wouldn’t need oxygen, but I was wrong. About half way to Camp 3 the altitude became extremely difficult; my body just wouldn’t move.
My first impressions after just arriving at Camp 3
Trying to rest a few hours after arriving at Camp 3.
View from inside my tent at Camp 3
CAMP 3 TO CAMP 4
South Col, South Shoulder, The Death Zone.
I am so glad I filmed so much of my first moments coming into Camp 4. I felt exhilarated and truly living a grand moment in my life.
This place is where the death zone starts, it’s both terrifying and a major accomplishment to reach this point on the mountain.
This was a MOMENT of Glory for me. I was in AWE being in this place.
Leaving Camp 3 early in the morning, very steep blue ice, very slow going
About 15% into the climb
65% of the way to camp 4, a peak experience on the climb
85% of the way to camp 4, stunning moments
90% of the way to camp 4, last push, amazing moments
Death Grip.
It’s hard to tell from this picture, my hands, especially my right hand, was so swollen from gripping ropes, often holding all my body weight with one hand to secure myself slipping. Although I was almost always connected to a fixed rope, you don’t let go. I was holding on for dear life.
Getting My Nerve and Courage
At Camp 4 I was in a dream-like state, breathing bottled oxygen all the time while I tried to rest in my tent at 26,000ft.
From this point up it’s called the death zone. This is the jumping off point.
Camp 4 South Col to Mt. Everest Summit
SUMMIT PUSH!
830PM May 11, 2024.
Lakpa T (my sherpa) he’s moving all his equipment around, he’s getting prepared. He doesn’t speak much at all, but he’s talking to me in spirit language. I know what he’s saying; the mountain is calling us, that I have very little time left to rest or contemplate what is going to happen next. In my mind he’s not just a Sherpa, he’s a spiritual guide. We don’t speak much at all, but so much is communicated. My shadow on the mountain, my eyes and ears so I can try to stay relaxed and focus on self transcendence.
Then in his monk-like-way, Lakpa T says, ‘Brutha, it’s time to go’. I reply simply, softly, but definitively, ‘ok’.
All night, in the dark, snowing, very slow; we were essentially alone.
The vertical rise is 3000+ ft in 1.07 miles. We were the 4th pair of climbers going for the summit. Fresh snow meant we post-holed constantly. It’s probably -10F but I’m very hot, and my cough is getting bad again.
For 5 days I hadn’t had a normal night of sleep.
I remind myself why I came, and think back to Heavenly Valley at 13, when I resolved to never give up.
20,000 years old DNA was revived. Primal abilities override all; survival affirmations are repeated again and again ‘this was what I was built to do’.
But I am going slow; Lakpa T is about 30ft ahead.
He is cold, and he tells me we will run low on oxygen if I don’t move faster. I can’t: I’m overheating, and breathing harder makes me cough.
I had asked the guide organizer for one of their most fit Sherpas. Lakpa T at 23 years old was 3x stronger than me at altitude; we were not well matched in pace.
Lakpa T had a full down-body suit on, which is normally good enough for summit conditions. I had my very warm down summit jacket in my backpack, I was wearing only 2 medium weight ski jackets because I was so hot going up the steep slope in deep snow.
So I said, “Lakpa T, how about you take my summit down jacket, it will keep you very warm and I will be ok with my ski jackets until we get to the top”
It seemed like the only reasonable solution at the time, he was hypothermic and I couldn’t go faster. I didn’t need my very warm jacket until we got closer to the top, and then when we came down the mountain we would move faster together and hopefully everything would be ok.
So Lakpa T takes my heavy weight down jacket.
At about 1:30am, after 5 hours, we reach ‘the balcony’ at 27,500ft, where the snow is less deep and the slope less steep.
The sky is clear, there is no moon, only stars. I’m looking at the stars in the sky at 27,500ft. The temperature is -15F, I am getting closer to the summit of Mt. Everest. It is a moment I will never forget. I am as close to walking on the moon or in another galaxy far away. This is what I came for. I have spontaneous moments of tears coming out of my eyes uncontrollably. The emotions, the effort, the will to survive, how I have lived a full full life. I am overcome with emotion.
I open my insulated water bottle: it’s frozen solid.
I open it and pull my oxygen mask away from my face. I tilt back the bottle, then tilt more, and then more, nothing. Nothing comes out, I look with my headlamp; frozen. It’s all ice. Shit.
No water, this is not good. So I do what I’ve done many times when climbing Mt. Washington. They call them ice-cookies. They can break your teeth but it’s better than being dehydrated. So I take a moment to take in handfuls of snow. It is refreshing, but it’s not easy to eat with huge mittens on and a cumbersome oxygen mask.
I stuff my mouth with snow, I’m still very hot from the uphill effort. I put my face mask back on, I zip up my bag and start moving upwards.
Lakpa T reminds me to keep a steady pace; running out of bottled oxygen at this altitude is how people die. So I push ahead.
Lakpa T continues to lead the way. I am working very hard. I keep taking handfuls of snow and stuffing my mouth every 10 minutes or so.
I’m in the zone, I feel ok, I really believe at this point that a summit is going to happen.
Just as it started to get light I made a quick video as we were about 1 hour from the top:
It’s getting light, but the weather report was wrong; we were supposed to have clear sky’s on this summit day, but the mountain was in the clouds and snowing. This was a big disappointment, we’d hoped to see the sunrise from a 1000 miles away. It was not to be.
I was getting excited, we were reaching the jagged upper ridge, the hillary step, the south summit, the false peaks, they were all coming into view. The snow cornices were absolutely frightening; at times the clouds would break and you’d see impossible drop-offs of nothing into no-where, as if we were on an airplane wing.
Then, I saw my first body. Frozen. Death.
I didn’t expect it. It came into view and my pupils dilated wide and fast. I went into a state of shock for a moment, like a deer in headlights, my primal mind was recording a moment of fear and warning.
Take Note. Take Care. Take This Seriously.
The body was partially sunk into the side of the mountain. The legs and boots were visible, the back and side of the jacket was ripped to pieces from the wind, the eye mask was fully intact over the head. I couldn’t see the face, but it was unmistakable. This was a lost comrade, someone who was as motivated and determined as me, and they left it all on the battlefield.
I take a long moment, say a Hebrew prayer in my mind, and step past.
The temperature has dropped a lot, and now I’m getting cold.
There is no fast exit whatsoever, you are there, way way way out there.
There would be no difference if I was in the middle of the ocean on a small raft with sharks circling. You have a small wooden paddle and you can only move in one direction, slowly, very slowly. At any moment a snow cornice could break off, a fixed rope anchor could fail (this happened to other climbers later that week, and 2 people would fall 3000ft into Tibet and never be seen again, on this very section of the trail).
Then 2 of the 3 teams that were ahead of us came back down: Kia from Los Angeles and Landry from Saskatchewan, Canada. They told me I was 7-10 minutes from the summit.
I know both of them. They are moving fast back down, we embrace, and they tell me ‘you’re very close Mike’. Omg. That close!?
We’re all in survival mode. We carefully move around each other on the shared fixed rope and I pick up my pace. I caught up to Lakpa T. I fumble with my Gopro camera, my hands are freezing, I’m definitely cold now.
It’s very windy and probably -20F. I’m cold and thinking about the jacket I gave to Lakpa T, but we’re so close to the summit.
I’m in a fever to get to the top, at all costs, nothing matters right now. I forget that the summit is not the finish line, in fact the summit is only half way!
Then it happens.
“Lakpa T! Help me!”
Suddenly my oxygen flow was gone. I am seeing black spots, on my knees, about to pass out.
I have no power at all. I pull off my face mask, the entire mask is broken, I don’t know what is happening.
Lakpa T rushes down to me, I say in broken english ‘Mask, No Oxygen!’ I am breaking air at literally 29,000ft, I cannot stand, I think about the frozen dead body I had just seen half buried in the snow.
This is it. I am losing touch with reality, fear grips me completely. I am yelling at Lakpa, NO OXYGEN!! He is furiously inspecting my mask, he looks at my oxygen regulator and a spring-like device that shows if oxygen is flowing, a kind of gas-gauge in the oxygen line that comes to my mask.
The spring is moving normally as it should, he yells back at me ‘Oxygen is ok!’ I yell back ‘NO! NO! NO Oxygen!!!’
In retrospect, here's what was happening:
My water bottle had frozen, and I hadn’t told Lakpa.
He didn’t see me stuffing snow into my mouth, including inside my mask, a rookie mistake. As we climbed higher the temperature dropped, the wind picked up, and the moisture froze my mask’s ventilation.
An altitude oxygen mask mixes pure oxygen from the tank with outside air that comes into the mask through a valve membrane.
That valve/membrane was totally frozen over. I was still getting pure oxygen into my face mask, but it was 5% of the volume and I couldn’t inhale it. I was blacking out 5 minutes from the summit of Mt. Everest.
The situation was out of a horror movie, I was screaming at Lakpa T, he was panicking as well. Any moment I was going to pass out and then that would be the end of me.
I know when to keep calm and when to pull the fire alarm, this was CODE RED.
Lakpa is screaming at me in his native language, as he opens his backpack and he takes out his insulate thermos.
He rips my mask out of my hand and he pours to my shocking eyes steaming hot water into my mask. I realized another rookie mistake. You need a metal professional insulated thermos when you are climbing in -20F weather. I had a pathetic plastic and foam insulated thermos.
The hot water melts the ice, Lakpa puts the mask back on my face, and I can breathe again.
“YES! YES! WORKING!!”
How do you describe this in words? Remember we’re literally 5 minutes from the summit, you wouldn’t know because it’s windy and near white out conditions with no more than 50-100ft of visibility. It’s windy, it’s absolutely Freezing cold! We are at least 5 hours from Camp 4 if we were racing back down the mountain, we’re in the death zone. There are literally frozen dead bodies all over the mountain (which we would see later).
After about 20 seconds my mask freezes up again, worse than before: zero air flow.
The hot water had filled the ambient-air membrane and gone into the pure oxygen tube as well.
Lakpa!!! NO OXYGEN!!! I yell at him again!
I’m Going To Die!
I rip the mask off my face and hyperventilate into the 6% 29,000ft death-air 5 minutes from the summit of Mt. Everest.
Lakpa absolutely loses his monk-like abilities and SCREAMS back in his native language, he grabs my mask and puts it on his face, he’s trying to understand why the mask isn’t working!
Then in a total break of his disposition he stands up and he yells at me in a way that I will never forget.
Exit Lakpa T.
Enter the voice of God.
Now I am not a religious person in practice. I don’t make the effort to follow the minutiae of rules and rituals; I don’t begrudge those who do, in fact I often wish I would make a bigger effort to maintain these century old customs. But I do have a very strong personal spiritual connection to my creator. I pray. Often. It’s usually outdoors when I’m running. I’ve always said I belong to the Temple of Sunday Long Run. I use my body to find a place of peace and meditation through aerobic exercise. I reach my best spiritual moments when I push myself far beyond my limits.
Here I was, literally a stone's throw away from my ultimate goal of vanity and ego, the summit of Mt. Everest.
I had the prize in my hand, the flag of victory was being waved, I was so so so close.
I had planned my summit moment in my mind many times over the prior weeks, with a list of people I would address from the top of the world. That was my ego.
On my knees, close to blacking out, Lakpa T stood over me and said: UP! OR DOWN!
He pointed one arm up the mountain and one arm back down the mountain.
Time slowed to a complete standstill.
Oh my god, this was the ultimate test.
I swear this was biblical. Not only in the moment, but as I replay it in my mind writing this now.
I was given a choice.
‘Up or Down’ is what Lakpa T yelled at me into the wind, on behalf of God.
What did I hear?
This is what went through my mind in an instant that felt like an hour:
What is your value Michael Arnstein?
‘I, your creator has given you every opportunity, every blessing possible; but it is not enough! You are corrupted. Egoistical, vanity driven waste of effort. How dare you risk your life on this mountain of death. I am not impressed at all. What will it be, do you want to live or die!?’
I was 5 minutes from the summit. A decision of agony I couldn’t have anticipated. In my tortured vain mind I felt I would rather die on the summit than retreat in failure. I couldn’t imagine turning back, so so close, I swore I would never stop until my last breath, but here I was at the gates of heaven, at the feet of the creator, literally knocking on the door just below heaven. I couldn’t possibly not keep going….
And in what might have been the most unbearable decision of my life…
I looked up at Lakpa T and I said: “Down”
It wasn’t for my life that I cared. Personally I think I would have been happy to be one of the frozen bodies on the mountain, living my mantra to never give up until my last breath, never ever surrender in defeat. But in that moment of making the ultimate choice; my deep love, concern and sense of obligation for others who rely on me was more important than the value in how I perceived the value of my life to myself.
My better self came through. I sincerely believe that had I said ‘Up’ I would have never written this report or anyone ever seen me alive again.
What happened next was very unexpected.
Lakpa stands there looking down at me.
My mask is on the ground, I’m hyperventilating at 29,000ft. The world is spinning.
Lakpa T takes off his backpack, he unzips his bodysuit and uncovers his head, he takes off the entire head gear that is attached to his mask.
He’s giving me his entire oxygen system.
He says,
You Go. Go to the Summit.
I wait here. You Go. Take my mask.
I wish I could say that I hesitated. But I didn’t.
As soon as he reached out to give me his mask I smashed it onto my face; breath breath breath, first order of business was to oxygenate the blood. I hyperventilate for 10 seconds and reach out to the oxygen tank that he removed from his bag, I turn the dial up from 2 to 6 (highest setting) immediately. Oh dear god, I can instantly feel the oxygen hitting my system. It is LIFE coming back into me. I was near the end of consciousness in the moment as my heart rate went through the roof during this searing fear experience.
Lakpa T sits down with my oxygen bottle and mask. He is going to wait for me on the ridge just below the summit with no working oxygen system, which could kill him at this altitude.
And lest I not remind all the readers that I am absolutely freezing cold and hypothermic and my very warm down jacket is on Lakpa T who just gave me his entire oxygen system!
This is Madness!
I am going to freeze to death and Lakpa T is going to die with no oxygen!!
But God himself had given me the ultimate test asking me ‘Up or Down’; and I somehow passed after replying that I would go ‘Down’, I would sacrifice my ego and vanity.
I was rewarded with one quick chance, race to the summit just 5 minutes away, get your picture and video, wave your flag of victory, but you better be more humble than ever before and get your ass off this mountain and never come back again!!
So I did that.
I took the chance. With my oxygen at level 6, I pulled myself up the ropes and over the final rocky outcroppings.
The visibility was very bad and the ridgeline very narrow, with jagged rock cliffs on both sides. Step, drive the ice ax in, hold tight, step again.
I didn’t see the summit coming, it snuck up on me.
Then it happened:
THE SUMMIT OF MT. EVEREST
I looked up, and suddenly it was there. Right there. The clouds parted, I was practically standing on top of the mountain before I even realized it. I made an audible ‘oh my god there it is’.
The adrenaline was through the roof, my respiration as if I was finishing a marathon, every sense and moment was heightened beyond what I can explain in words; all along with a mountain of panic and fear mixed in. I have never felt so terrified and excited in the same moment. My God, was this an experience of a lifetime.
I turned around, and to my shock I could see Lakpa T. through the clouds, I could see him, wearing my warm red jacket! He was coming, slowly, how could he possibly be moving without oxygen!??
Another sherpa and his western climber just leaving the summit. I hardly noticed them as my entire focus was on the frozen tibetan prayer flags draped over metal anchoring posts on the summit.
I had the entire moment to myself, it was as if I was at the feet of a throne, the gates to heaven open for me to peek inside. If you could imagine God’s feet were just beyond the clouds.
Imagine It. The wind, blowing snow, frigid temperature, low visibility, exhaustion, frozen dead bodies, ghostly clouds hovering by, my frosted ice clothing and forced heavy breathing…. My God I will never forget this experience for the rest of my days. Trembling in a wild state of fear, joy, panic, agony, elation, disbelief.
I rustled my inner jacket pocket to get out my gopro camera.
All the prepared remarks to my friends, family and coworkers were gone from my mind. I was in pure survival mode. I was terrified. Record the summit video and get the hell off this mountain!
EVEREST
SUMMIT
29,035FT
If you watch other videos and look at pictures of people on the summit of Mt. Everest, none, not one person will be wearing a midweight ski-jacket.
Lakpa T is wearing his full down bodysuit with my very heavy weight down red jacket. The jacket is rated for -40F, a -40F south-pole jacket made by Feathered Friends which makes very cold weather expedition gear.
I am freezing cold. Lakpa T has no oxygen, he literally saved my life by giving me his oxygen system. But now I’m worried I am going to freeze to death on the way back down the mountain. How can I ask Lakpa for my jacket under these circumstances? The emergency is not over. The summit is only half way.
I clearly understand how and why so many climbers die on the way down. They are motivated at any cost to get to the summit, they are charged up, going up, warm, moving, then on the way down everything collapses.
Lakpa T has my frozen oxygen mask over his face, you can see he is holding the mask off his skin, because the membrane that lets in ambient air is totally blocked and frozen. He needs to hold the mask off of his face so ambient air can enter the chamber where the pure oxygen is possibly still flowing (but I was sure the hose was totally frozen blocked).
BACK DOWN
TO CAMP 4
It’s not over yet. Most people die on the way back down.
It was a race to get back to Camp 4. Lakpa said I had about 2.5 hours of oxygen left, and it had taken 10 hours to go up from Camp 4 to the summit. I had to go down 4x faster.
I turned down my regulator to conserve oxygen. My hands and feet went numb on the ridgeline, and since I felt I couldn’t ask Lakpa for my jacket back, I moved as fast as possible to generate body heat.
The 1 and only video I took heading back down the mountain. I was the 4th western climber to summit in 2024.
More Frozen Bodies
On the way up we hiked almost entirely in the dark. On the way down, in daylight, I saw the bodies in the snow; often only a body part was visible, as the drifting snow would expose or cover the dead climbers.
Each time I saw a frozen body I stopped briefly, stared. Thinking. I could have been (or might be!) one of the estimated 200+ bodies left on the mountain over the last 100 years.
Less than 10 minutes above Camp 4, the last body was almost entirely visible, face up, goggles and mask on. I stopped to show respect for what must have been a valiant effort.
Lakpa’s oxygen works again, and mine runs out
Below 27,000ft and out of the wind, Lakpa T melted the frozen mask and his oxygen worked again.
We are just about at Camp 4, where we had 2 more bottles of oxygen. My regulator showed 5% left in my bottle.
Lakpa had gone ahead to Camp 4. About 100ft from the tent my body suddenly shut down, and in 2-3 seconds I was on the ground gasping for air. I knew right away I was out of oxygen, and I yelled for help.
Lakpa hears me, he races to get the new bottle from our tent and rushes over to me and smashes the mask onto my face. I was totally losing consciousness, I had zero ability to stand on my own 2 feet. This is how all these people die on Everest. They run out of oxygen and then freeze to death, I totally get it. It’s called the Death Zone for a reason.
Laying on the ground, totally drained in every way. I had been awake and moving for 30+ hours. I am destroyed. I am still in the death zone at 26,000ft (8000 meters). Lakpa and I know we must get down to camp 2 before dark when I will run out of our last oxygen bottle. I have to get up and keep going no matter what. So I dig in. We don’t rest at camp 4 at all, it’s a race to get below 22,000ft where I don’t need supplemental oxygen to rest and sleep without medical risks.
2 hours later we get to camp 3 at 23,500 ft.
My hands feel like they’ve been run over by a truck, the gripping of ropes while going down was endless; my gloves shredded from the effort. I’m deliriously tired.
We keep going down toward camp 2. I’m about 20 minutes from camp 2 and my oxygen tank is empty again, this time I don’t feel like I am going to pass out, but I absolutely cannot keep going. I slump to the ground, no chance I can finish the last 20 minutes without more oxygen. Lakpa uses his radio and calls the camp 2 manager and says he needs oxygen, man down! I tell Lakpa I have to close my eyes and sleep until they come with another oxygen tank. He sits next to me, I feel safe to take a nap while waiting. Another sherpa comes with an oxygen tank. They turn it up to level 6, I’m back to life, I can think again. Lakpa takes my backpack, he’s going to carry it the rest of the way to camp 2. I walk like a zombie just holding the oxygen tank under my arm. I’m done man. I am totally totally done.
Back at Camp 2, I crawl into my tent and turn off the oxygen. I’m ok to breathe heavy and spend my last night on this mountain suffering just a little bit… Tomorrow I head back to New York, and my life will be safe (and happily boring) again.
GOING HOME
Would I do it again? Emotionally, yes. Literally, No. It’s just too dangerous.
I think it’s good I waited until I was 47. At 25 or 35 I’m quite sure I couldn’t have resisted climbing other huge mountains, and I might have ended up like one of those frozen bodies. Closer to 50, I have more sensibility, and I can’t let down the people in my life who care about me and need me.
About 5 days after I summitted Mt. Everest, I was back in New York and my frostbitten skin was starting to peel off my face.
In Closing: I do believe the most valued experiences in our lives come from enduring and overcoming our greatest challenges. Thinking that easy is where you will find your happiness is a huge lie and mistake. I wish for massive challenges that I can overcome. Life itself by my definition is about the struggle and the ability to overcome.
Risking your life voluntarily like I did on Mt. Everest is not something I am proud of, and I wouldn’t recommend it. But I wholeheartedly recommend striving for tremendously difficult goals. I hope anyone reading this will find the courage to sign up for something grand.
Don’t wait. Go for it.
Michael Arnstein
What a great story! I´m amazed by the fact that you brought back so much footage, considering how difficult it is to even put on your boots in the thin air above camp 1. Great visual material, well put together. Congratulations!
Awesome videos and pics, from basecamp all the way to the summit! Great work michael.
Wow…Amazing!!!
What did you eat on the journey? I saw on your Youtube videos, you had mentioned potatoes and vegetables.
Brilliant writing and video footage. Thank you for the journey!
-Tommy Lentsch
Wow, I’m completely awestruck by your passion, determination and resilience. Few will dare to dream. Fewer still will achieve their dreams. The lesson: live life with passion.I’m still processing your entire adventure Mike.
Incredible!!! I am in Awe of you my darling! I did think I was going to be a widow that week though. It was so tough on me. I am so glad you made it back whole and alive.
Congrats Mike! You are an inspiration. Wouldn’t expect anything less.
Am yisrael chai!