Looking magnificent against an azure sky in all its snow-capped glory, Everest may not look all that dangerous. However, every year 10 lives, on average, are lost on its slopes. So why does Longford man and farmer’s son Paul Devaney want to climb it?
“You get to test yourself in the most extreme way and see what you’re made of,” replies Paul. “I want to see what I’m made of.”
What makes Everest more treacherous than its peers is that it breaks the 8,000m mark, a point past which the human body, physically, cannot cope.
“You get up and get down quickly because your body can’t be there,” says Paul. “From camp four, your body doesn’t have enough oxygen. The brain physically expands. The lungs are affected by the pressure which can also play with your head.”
This is why Paul lives in a house in which most of us would collapse in during the time it takes to make a cup of tea. He spends 17 hours a day living at half the height of Everest – at the National Altitude Centre on campus in University Limerick (UL), where he cooks at altitude, watches TV at altitude, and sleeps at altitude. Air from the house is removed and filtered, and the oxygen and nitrogen are separated. A nitrogen-heavy and oxygen-light mix is then pumped back in.
“You can go into the lab and dial the bedrooms to be at a certain altitude, such as 4,000m or 5,000m,” says Paul. “My room is at 4,000m and so is the sitting room. In the bathroom I’m at sea level.”
It’s not a comfortable set-up. Paul’s appetite is compromised, he wakes up a lot at night and he’s prone to headaches.
But in the run-up to Everest, it gives his pulmonary system time to adjust and will increase the number of red blood cells that carry oxygen around the body.
Paul’s experience is a quasi-scientific exploit for UL, which is sponsoring all his training needs. Altitude coach Rachel Turner checks in with him every morning to measure his hydration and fatigue levels, how many hours of sleep he’s had, and how many times he’s woken during the night.
Climbing Everest involves negotiating a series of ice fields, huge and active glaciers, and using aluminium ladders to straddle crevices (“you can’t see the bottom, we know we’ll be spooked”) while all the time staving off avalanches. Physical strength is crucial and this is being nurtured at the UL Sports Arena.
Coaches Aidan O’Keeffe and Jackie Doherty are prepping him in a gruelling 20-hour training schedule that doesn’t just incorporate strength and endurance training, but yoga and mental preparation too.
However, getting on the plane on Friday week will not signal the end of Paul’s prep. Going to the summit initially involves much skirting around it, rather than a direct ascent, in a one-step-forward, two-steps-back fashion. Paul will spend much of his time on Everest engaged in test excursions from base camp, which will allow him to adjust gradually to the altitude and become familiar with the terrain. However, while he will get used to the topography, it’s impossible to get comfortable with the route because the ice changes overnight.
Yet, after all this time and effort has been invested, Paul will spend just 10 minutes on the summit. It’s too cold up there (-38°C) and they will be relying on oxygen tanks to breathe.
And, of course, there’s the risk of frostbite. Paul says he’s invested very well in boots: “I’m not going to get a second set of feet.”
But getting photos at the summit with flags and sponsors’ logos, in a place where taking off gloves is a risk, will be challenging.
“You can’t take photos with a big glove, but within moments of taking it off, your fingers are tingling. You can shake that off and keep wriggling them, but if after four minutes you’ve still got your gloves off, then you’ve got a problem.”
Then again, Paul mightn’t reach the summit at all.
Of the 1,300 people who attempt to scale Everest each year, there are only 650 summits. If the Sherpa (the native ethnic people of eastern Nepal, many of whom guide climbers) decide it’s too dangerous, they can call a halt to a climb, an unpopular move when many pay sums of up to $60,000 for the experience.
A group of climbers who had done just that, and were climbing with Russell Bryce of the Discovery Channel for a documentary, were pulled off the mountain last year.
“When the Sherpas say you’re done, then you’re done,” says Paul. “That’s a deal you sign, their word is law.
“A lot of it is to do with luck and a lot of it is to do with the weather. When the window is open you have to be in a position to go. Everyone is on the mountain getting themselves prepped. When the mountain is clear, all the Sherpas come together and decide the order in which they’ll go up.”
Although he’s climbing Everest with his friend Niall O’Byrnes from Castledermot, Co Kildare, and an Indian friend, Midura, they will most likely not celebrate their feat together at the top.
“On summit day I mightn’t know where Niall is. Everyone has to travel their own mountain.”
Is Paul terrified of what’s ahead? “I have a certain amount of fear, but I’m not terrified of it. I worry about stuff I can’t control – that’s après-8,000m stuff. I’m afraid of the effect of altitude, the crevices, the ladder and the unknown. I know it’s not risk-free and I’ve accepted that. I can only work out strategies. But the percentage of people who’ve died, compared to the percentage of people who’ve climbed, has decreased.”
Paul doesn’t seem to have one particular motivation behind his quest, but he notes that “if you can generate a self-motivation system, you can get through anything in life.
“He also describes the growing expectation around him and notes: “It’s interesting to watch yourself manage that difference between expectation and reality.”
When Paul completes Everest it will be his final summit of seven, as he has already climbed the highest mountain on each continent as part of the Seven Summits Challenge which he embarked upon in 2007 with a group of friends. He and Niall are the only ones still going and when Everest is accomplished (Niall also has to complete Antarctica), they will join only 300 other people worldwide who have achieved such a feat.
Although he and Niall are doing this “for our own kicks” they decided that because such an adventure attracts significant attention, they should “do something with it”. Which they have – to the tune of €30,000 (and counting) – in fundraising for charities including Liam’s Lodge, Self-Help Africa, Concern, the Make a Wish Foundation, Susan G Koman and LauraLynn House.
Several sponsors are helping fund the cost of the trip (Everest is costing €30,000) – University of Limerick, Plassey Campus Services, Ardmore, Glennon Brothers, Flahavan’s, Glanbia, Ricesteel, Butler Manufacturing Services and The Altitude Gym, while Paul’s local community in Killoe, Co Longford (where his brother now runs the farm he grew up on) has been very supportive.
He’s also using his own savings, accumulated while working in engineer and business manager roles with Rolls Royce in the UK, which he quit in July to move to UL.
His life has been “on hold” ever since, particularly because Limerick is a few hundred kilometres and an Irish Sea away from his London-based girlfriend, Rima.
But what’s next, after Everest?
“Back to work and get my career going again,” says Paul. “I will return completely penniless so will need to get to work and earn funds so that I can contemplate the next adventure.”
Which is the south pole, if you were wondering.
Those interested in seeing their logo at the top of Everest and who would like to sponsor Paul, can contact him at paul.devaney@gmail.com or visit www.irishsevensummits.com.
Paul on...
The Hillary Step ladder
It’s been suggested a ladder will be installed on the Hillary Step. Does Paul think this will compromise the challenge of Everest?
“A lot of queues form and this causes friction and lines of people. People can freeze to death in the queue. I think it’s a reflection of how popular the mountain has become. Physiologically, it’s the same challenge, it won’t be made any easier with a ladder. I think it’s a good idea because it will cut out queues and cut out arguments.”
On helping other climbers in trouble
“It’s an impossible question. It’s too dangerous to rescue them if they’re dead.
“Above 5,000m, if you can’t move, you’re immovable. I heard of a group that found one Nepalese woman in some distress. It took 15 people 30 hours to get her down. To get them on a stretcher and move them down with that topography is dreadfully difficult stuff. It puts everyone around them in danger. That’s the hard reality about being 8,000m up.
“There’s certain things you can do. It depends on when you find them. You can give them oxygen and get them stable. You can give them an injection that gives them enough to get them back down. You make a decision if you can physically get them back down. You don’t know until it happens what decision you’ll make. I’d hope I would. But there’s something horribly wrong if nobody takes five minutes to inject.”
On seeing dead bodies of other climbers
“It’s extremely likely that will happen. I’ve asked others about it. They could be better climbers than you and had an unfortunate fall. But my job is not to end up there. We’re going to get up and down safely. Your job is to do everything you can do.”