Hell Is Above Us: The Epic Race to the Top of Fumu, the World's Tallest Mountain by Jonathan Bloom (bookreader TXT) 📗

return home to news of Junk’s ongoing, obsessive retribution. He also found out Junk was taking pains to begin his ascents on the same day as Hoyt, because his plans were evolving, and soon he hoped to reach the top of each mountain before Hoyt. With this knowledge, Hoyt started secretly setting out a day earlier or later. But Junk was ahead of him. With the exception of Hoyt’s solo efforts, Junk began paying off members of Hoyt’s teams to send him word, usually through phone calls. When his spies were unable to slip away, they would pass notes to people around them – usually with money inside - telling them to place the phone call. They would receive more money later if the call was indeed placed.

The turning point came three expeditions later. Hoyt was climbing Aiguille de la Grande Sassière in the Graian Alps. The ascent was extremely difficult. One man, Charles Pickwick of Fairfax, Virginia, died when a bolt broke and he fell several hundred feet. Hoyt was devastated. No one had ever died on one of his expeditions. In fact, Hoyt had never seen anyone die before, on or off a mountain. “That was simply the most sobering experience of my life. Before your very eyes, a person goes from man to meat. I was thankful Wizzy did not have to witness such horror.” But as is often the case, the expedition continued despite death. There was no joy in the climb any more, only silence and determination.

On the final morning of the ascent, three team members including Hoyt had a go at the peak. A few hundred feet away from their goal, they noticed an object waiting for them at the very top. It was a flag; not the flag of a nation, nor the flag of any other organized institution. It was the flag of an individual, an unstable individual. It was constructed out of a woman’s white petticoat flying from a metal tent pole. Painted in large black letters on the petticoat were the words: “YOU LOSE, FAGGOT.”

Junk could not have picked a worse moment to insult his nemesis, given the tragic events that had so recently befallen Hoyt’s team. Hoyt later wrote in his journal:

“My actions at that moment were deplorable. I wish I could divorce myself from the memory. I pulled out the flag, yelled like a man scorched by fire, and threw the abomination at my fellow mountaineers. I am a man of few words, and the words I do employ are of the kind one could safely wield around tots. But at that moment, at the top of Aguille, I let out a stream of ribaldry so tawdry, I washed out my own mouth that evening. By my rage-fueled account, Junk was the offspring of a she-dog who had sexual relations with the mother of the selfsame she-dog.”

Subsequent expeditions continued along the same trajectory. Hoyt would climb, making every attempt to conceal his plans, but Junk would climb and beat Hoyt to the summit. The only variation was the writing on the flag. One time it read “$100,000?” Another time “PRIG.” And another time, in smaller letters “Fat is the head that wears the crown.”

Ovaltine, in association with the American Alpine Club, were sponsoring an American team to ascend Nanda Devi in India. The Ovaltine people were growing frustrated with their sponsorship of the Little Orphan Annie radio program. According to an internal memo, the company felt “Advertising during Little Orphan Annie is bringing us a narrow audience of kids, their moms, and fairies.” They wanted to sell their drink to men, and they planned to pitch Ovaltine as a healthy drink for rugged, active outdoorsmen. This was one of the first marketing campaigns of its kind, jumping off of the billboards and out of the radio sponsorships and into newsreels and morning papers. The Ovaltine people were excited beyond all measure and promoted the trip heavily.

Aaron Junk could never have gotten that kind of backing from Ovaltine or any other establishment because, although he was now seen as a legitimate climber, his seedy history and unpredictable behaviour were seen as too much of a liability. Granted, even Hoyt now had two arrests to his name, but most people saw those indiscretions as provoked. Junk’s reputation was, in contrast, toxic. A company like Woolworth would not put their brand in the hands of a man who might break all records of mountaineering one day, and then be arrested for climbing their own corporate headquarters the next. Junk had no choice but to sponsor his own team if he wished to dog Hoyt at every turn. Both Hoyt and Junk set out for India by way of London on the same day, March 13 of 1939, with the goal of dominating Nanda Devi. British climbers Bill Tilman and Eric Shipton had already reached the top, but no American had yet to even enter the sanctuary.

Nanda Devi stands 25,642 feet tall. That certainly does not make it the tallest mountain in the world. It is not even the tallest in India. But Nanda Devi is brutal. Even the most experienced climber on Earth must first get to a mountain before climbing it, and that’s where Nanda Devi has you. She is almost impossible to reach. Ringed by a series of other mountains, including her smaller sister, Nanda Devi East, the lowest passes into her sanctuary require an ascent to 18,000 feet. Once over the top of those passes, there is a good likelihood the way will be impassible due to serac-laced glaciers standing between you and the mountain. The only entry point not requiring a grueling climb is through the Rishi Gorge, a raging river flanked by sheer walls on both sides. In a sense, Nanda Devi is a smaller version of Fumu – an imposing giant guarded by multiple lines of defense.

Hoyt and Junk were both ready to take on this amazing challenge, and take on