Tengkangpoche Part 4 - The Aftermath
The north-east pillar of Tengkangpoche (6487m). Photo: Francois Cazzanelli
Part 4
Click here for Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3
Thengbo Tea House, Khumbu Region, Nepal. October ‘21
Matt and I lay on a boulder outside the tea house, soaking in the warm sunshine. The light prickled my burnt cheeks and fatigue washed through me. ‘Urrrghhh,’ I grunted, opening another packet of biscuits. We were exhausted; only last night we’d returned from our seven-day trip up Tengkangpoche’s north-east pillar. We both thought the climb was finished, that we’d weathered the storm. However, we were soon to be involved in a different kind of storm…
‘The yaks have already taken your big bags to the village,’ Sherku (our Trekking Guide) said, so we shrugged on our climbing packs again and began to stagger down the valley. We hung our double boots from slings and they clomped around our shoulders.
‘Mmm, food,’ I said, lying in the grass after walking only a kilometre. We looked back at Tengkangpoche, now proudly showing its snowy spine. It felt surreal to think we were on the 6487-metre summit only yesterday, with life distilled into climbing and surviving. The route had been relentless, each day our bodies weaker and slimmer.
We laughed at the memories: enjoyable mixed pitches amongst a sea of hard aid climbing; marvelling at our position as we inched through the upper headwall, 1000 metres of air beneath our boots; Matt making his new crampon bails with rope; and bivying on the summit ridge with the tent smashed by strong gusts.
Connecting to WiFi in Thame village, I messaged Quentin Roberts. I felt it was important he learnt of our ascent from us, rather than finding out online. I also contacted my parents and girlfriend Christelle, learning of the tragic news: Gabriel Miloche, Louis Pachoud and Thomas Arfi had died on the nearby peak Mingbo Eiger. Gab and Louis had been great friends and I’d hoped to meet them in Kathmandu. My mind reeled. Suddenly, our ascent felt meaningless and empty.
We stumbled towards Lukla for several days. I rolled down the endless rocky paths, alone. My toes throbbed as if they were exploding out of my shoes. My senses were shocked and numb after the route on Tengkangpoche; it had been seven intense days. Repetitive music thudded over and over through my headphones, bouncing around my brain. Matt and I enviously eyed our duffle bags riding atop two lumbering yaks. Small uphill sections of the path became real cruxes and I bent over my walking poles. The yaks would overtake us every time we stopped for tea, then biscuits, tea, lunch, tea, second lunch, tea…
***
Posting on Instagram about our route about five days later, I was surprised to generate a storm. Quentin was upset that I hadn’t immediately acknowledged the use of some of his gear from his backpack. Of course, I intended to publish a full account of our ascent at a later date, with due credit, but I underestimated how necessary it would be to immediately and specifically mention each aspect of gear we had borrowed or used from the pack to the public.
Instead of Quentin and Jesse Huey contacting me so I could fully credit them in my Instagram post, and instead of maturely talking though their problems, an article appeared on an American climbing blog called Evening Sends. The blog threw a metaphorical Molotov cocktail at Matt and I, attacking us and sparking an internet debate. It claimed we ‘stole’ the First Ascent of the route from Quentin and Jesse; that we had stolen their gear left on the mountain; and that we couldn’t have done it without their help. The blog also claimed Quentin and Jesse had no knowledge that we were going to try Tengkangpoche, and that we were ‘entitled rich kids.’ All of these claims are false.
Matt and I watched in horror as the factual story was lost and anger raged. Thankfully, I was speaking with Rolo Garibotti throughout: he was a great source of stability and reasoning. His words were clear and calm: ‘If aggressive behavior is all they can muster in response, it does not much matter. Over the Cerro Torre bolt-affaire someone cut my car tires, and I recall being relieved, because it was not the kind of reasoned analysis that would make me question myself and lose sleep.’
Social media is an interesting place. Traditionally, climbing news was subject to scrutiny by an editor (of a magazine, for example). Responses were equally examined, and published if they represented a legitimate or sensible opinion. Nowadays, the role of the editor has been removed. Opinions can be shared by anyone with an online platform, to anyone. The distance and effortlessness of typing on a screen desensitizes: it’s easier to write something you would never say to someone’s face, and easier to add a comment online than create a letter or email. Many people commenting together can generate a group feel, creating a confirmation bias or echo chamber. Since the publication of the American blog, other blogs copied the information and muddied the truth, making it harder to distinguish fact from fiction. Complete research is often necessary to give context to the story, but social media can reduce (or even ignore) this step. The blog was simply provocative clickbait and unfortunately only reduces the integrity and credibility of the website. In fact, the blog received so much negative publicity and calls that it was inciting a witch hunt, the author was forced to issue a subsequent blog stating he was just being a commentator.
Matt and I received direct messages from people calling us ‘scum,’ saying ‘the route doesn’t count,’ and that they would write to our sponsors telling them to drop us. It seems most of these people are close friends of Quentin and Jesse. However, the vast majority of messages we received were congratulatory and reminded us to ignore the internet mayhem.
Many commentators on my initial Instagram post seemed to be following a trend or group, without thinking individually. When I pointed people towards my article in response to the American blog, or to Colin Haley’s Facebook post, they changed their views and became more supportive. Colin’s full post can be found here, and below are extracts:
‘No one owns any projects in the mountains. Not in this instance, or any instance ever.’
‘If I had gone to Nepal this fall to attempt the northeast pillar of Tengkampoche, and had succeeded, I would not have felt that I had done anything wrong, even though Quentin and Jesse are friends of mine, and even though I knew they had ambitions to try it again.’
‘it is very important to mention that Quentin and Juho and Jesse were not the ones to dream up this climbing project.’
‘I think that most people experienced in climbing big mountains would agree that gear that was left on the mountain by a different party the previous season is considered fair game to take.’
‘Some people have mentioned that leaving a gear cache on a climb, such as Quentin and Jesse did, is a questionable choice because there is always the possibility that you won’t be able to return, and it will simply turn into garbage.’
***
Much has already been said and learned about the events. I don’t want to spark another debate or offend. I may have come across as arrogant or harsh in some cases; this has never been my intention. I do, however, want to present the facts. I do not feel like Matt and I did anything wrong. I simply want to record, and learn, from the experience.
In summary:
Emotions linked to not climbing the First Ascent of Tengkangpoche’s north-east pillar may have led to Quentin and Jesse passing incorrect information to an American blog which threw mud and Matt and I. Some people have said they were just upset about not being the first. At present (April 2023) the pair have not returned to Nepal and their backpack remains on the mountain.
Whilst I agree there should always be a space for open, calm discussion in person and online, and people should be free to express their views, the American blog was the opposite of this. I do not agree in inflaming a witch hunt or mob; I do not agree on the ‘cancel culture.’
Matt and I received direct messages from people calling us ‘scum,’ saying ‘the route doesn’t count.’ (Can a route ‘not count?!’) It seems most of those people were close friends of Quentin and Jesse. (However, the vast majority of messages we received were congratulatory and reminded us to ignore the internet mayhem). Some people said they would contact our sponsors and tell them to drop us. Funnily enough, Matt didn’t have any. Mine fully support me. Since these events and my initial blog in response, I felt like I was in a position of weakness or apology - which considering the information in this article, I would say I am not.
I would attempt Tengkangpoche’s north-east pillar again; I don’t believe anyone owns an alpine route or mountain. Things are different when sport or trad climbing, of course. I did feel some reservation before our attempts because I know Quentin, and that he had invested time, energy and money in this mountain. However, Tengkangpoche’s pillar was the most obvious, attractive and safest choice for us. Also, we weren’t particularly confident we would climb it. I would attempt the north-east pillar if I was to be the first or fifteenth ascent.
Considering the events after our ascent, Matt and I wouldn’t have used anything from Quentin and Jesse’s backpack which was stashed low on the mountain, although I don’t think our actions were inherently wrong. We made the incorrect decision (to use their gear/garbage left on the mountain) considering the aftermath, and we should have started climbing with all necessary gear from our base camp, rather than choosing the easier or lazier option by taking gear and food from their pack. I said in my initial message to Quentin after we climbed the route that ‘we didn’t have loads of food and gas to start with,’ but we certainly had all that we needed, rather than an excess. I do believe it was acceptable for us to have taken gear in that way, but considering the aftermath, it was not the best decision.
As mentioned, some people think equipment left on a mountain over seasons can be seen as garbage, as Colin Haley wrote in a Facebook post. He summarised, ‘I definitely don’t think it was unethical of them [Tom and Matt] to do so [take their gear].’ Rolo Garibotti made similar comments, saying our actions were completely the right thing to do and understandable.
As was always my intention, I have returned the gear Matt and I used to Quentin. He’d said the food in the pack ‘might be bad by now.’ Despite Quentin and Juho’s widespread news coverage of their 2019 attempt and their desire to keep the mountain ethically clean, and for an ascent without bolts, we found a bolt kit in the pack. The pack was at the end of the first day of climbing, which was mostly easy scrambling.One of the most important points to note is that, after climbing Tengkangpoche, I messaged Quentin to tell him of our ascent. I wrote that I was almost sorry, and in the very British way, tried to make him feel better. I said, and I don’t know exactly why, something like, ‘we couldn’t have done it without your help.’ This is a part of that message: ‘although we knew it was a bit if a dick move we decided to use some of your stuff on our second attempt.’ We essentially wanted him to feel better, and this message is what was taken out of context and was thrown, in a Molotov cocktail, at Matt and I.
Some have pointed out that Quentin and Jesse should not have posted so much information online about their attempt(s), and the gear in their backpack was ‘wall garbage’ and therefore ‘fair game.’ Matt and I apologise for using Quentin and Jesse’s gear without their permission.
I know of several stashes which have been abandoned in the mountains. Unfortunately, many of the peaks in Nepal have thousands of metres of fixed ropes littering them, climbers either too tired or not bothered to clean up. Of course, a stash can be a good tactic if you intend to return, but this is never guaranteed.
If someone climbs an objective I’m invested in, I will say, ‘well done.’ If there is some incorrect information online, I will contact the author (either privately or publicly) and get it corrected. I don’t believe that the accusatory American blog was the best way to resolve the situation. We weren’t asked for our comments, nor was the story corrected when proved incorrect. As mentioned, there was enough criticism of the original blog and calls of starting a ‘witch hunt,’ the author published another article asking for calm and rationale. This seemed to be too little, too late. The storm was already raging.
As Quentin said, there was some mis-communication between us. We had exchanged dozens of messages about Nepal and Tengkangpoche before our expedition, Quentin volunteering enormous amounts of beta amongst the other information online. He knew we were considering the north-east pillar.
Although I privately messaged Quentin at the earliest opportunity to say we had climbed the north-east pillar, I did not clearly and immediately publicly credit him for the gear.
There are several lessons I have learnt:
It’s important to clearly state the full story, and not to rush into publicising it.
Taking from someone’s cache can be a lazy option and should be avoided. Leaving a cache in the mountains is a complicated issue, especially over seasons and somewhere remote.
Nobody owns any projects in the mountains. Nor do they own an alpine climb. I would attempt Tengkangpoche’s north-east pillar if it was the first or fifth ascent. I do not climb for fame or to be ‘the first.’
Social media is a potentially dangerous place, and not always conducive to constructive, well-thought-out conversations. However, I found the climbing community to be incredibly supportive, overall.
If someone climbs a project I’m invested in, I will congratulate them maturely. If someone mis-reports the information, I will ask them to correct it.
There should be an open space for calm discussion online, but this should be factual and not inciting a mobbing.
Don’t pre-hype. Spraying about not climbing a route and then getting upset when someone climbs ‘your’ project is pretty lame.
Giving false information to a blog and inciting a social media shitstorm is also lame. Most parties who were originally attacking us have now apologised to Matt and I. The American blog was pathetic.
Whilst I don’t think these words exactly describe what Matt and I felt, a ‘witch hunt’ or ‘lynch mob’ are unpleasant things to experience. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
We should remember: the most important thing is to come back safe.
Summary:
First ascent of ‘Massive Attack’ - the north-east pillar of Tengkangpoche (6487 metres), Khumbu region, Nepal - by Matt Glenn and Tom Livingstone. Climbed between 24 - 30 October 2021.
Thanks to:
Mountain Equipment, Petzl, La Sportiva, Julbo and Fatmap.
Family and friends
Rob Smith for weather forecasts
Dawa and Sherku at Dream Himalaya Adventures
Gyaltsen and family at the Third Pole Summitter Lodge, Thame village
Mrs. T at Thengbo Lodge