But mention "crawling" to Jody, and watch her beam.
Crawling is what her baby, Hans, is doing on a videotape hand-delivered to base camp, just in time for Mother's Day. Watching her 15-month-old son achieve this developmental milestone, the first-time mom couldn't get any higher. Not even if she was standing on the top of the world.
A year ago, Jody was bound to bed and Hans, to an incubator. Both were fighting to survive what had been a traumatic birth. On Feb. 5, 2001, Hans weighed just 24 ounces when he came into the world, 13 weeks premature, via emergency Caesarian section. Jody had suffered a life-threatening syndrome during pregnancy that left her so weak, it was two months before the avid mountaineer could muster the energy to walk a mile.
While Hans spent 105 days in the hospital on life support, his mother stood vigil, not knowing if he would live or die. Jody's life revolved around that one hour per day when she was allowed to hold him. It's been six weeks now since she's held her son.
"Coming to Mount Everest was the most difficult decision I ever had to make," Jody says. "It was an opportunity hard to pass up, on the one hand, and hard to embrace on the other."
The support of family and friends gave Jody the confidence she needed to join the team. She credits her husband, Mark, who told her: "You were there for Hans when he needed you, so it's OK for you to do something for yourself."
She keeps a picture of both of them in a plastic sleeve in her water bottle. Every time Jody takes a drink, she sees their faces. Their images — and spirits — will go with her to the top. If she goes to the top. Her strategy for the summit bid is decidedly conservative. As a mountaineer, she's unwilling to take risks she might otherwise have relished prior to motherhood. Thoughts of Hans keep her focused on safety, double- and triple-checking every clip into every rope.
"Depending on the conditions of myself and the mountain, I may call it quits sooner," she says. "I have to go home healthy for my son. He is way more important than the summit."
Speaking of the summit, everyone still is waiting for the route above the South Col to be fixed. Teams that worked hard for seven weeks climbing up and down the mountain now are reluctant to push the route. Not a soul is above base camp today except for our two Sherpa cooks, Mingma and Purba, who are stationed at Camp 2. High winds have kept everyone down, but the weather outlook seems to be improving. Perhaps the winds will diminish by Tuesday or Wednesday.
And our plans have changed. We won't be leaving base camp until at least Monday. Then, it will take at least four days to get in position for the summit bid.
Each commercial team has agreed to contribute two Sherpas to fix the rope above 26,000 feet, which they hope to have completed by May 15. If so, several teams would leave immediately to make summit bids. This means the route might be sufficiently trodden by May 18 for our team's summit attempt.
"We have to know our limitations," says lead guide Dave Hahn. "We are not a team that is going to be able to slam dunk this thing in three days. We're going to need to get lucky on the weather — our planning reflects that. There is a set of priorities: our group health and strength; the route has to be in good shape; and we have to get lucky on the weather. If we don't get a long enough break in the weather, we won't get up the mountain."
Each individual, at this point, needs to consider her personal limitations. What it will take to keep herself and her teammates safe?
"I love working and climbing on Everest, but I certainly do talk up the dark side of it," Dave explains. "I talk about the risks and I talk about how uncomfortable it's going to be. To climb this thing responsibly. People have to be able to embrace the dangers: There is a possibility that you could be hurt for life, or you could die or that your actions could get someone else killed. Summit or no summit, the triumph comes in having faced all that."