SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT: George Lowe: For-EVEREST-in peace

Last week, the Saturday Supplement took a plunge into the depths of our world's oceans, and with the sad news this week that George Lowe (who was at the aid of Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing in conquering Everest, in 1953) died on Wednesday, it's fitting to remind ourselves not just of the captivating diversity of the planet, but specifically the incalculable buckets of energy humans have expended on braving the skin piercing winds and battling the razor sharp fingers of this great mass of rock.

Hillary and Tenzing defied the oppressive elements of the Himalayas in 1953, and made marks atop an unexploited pocket of the world, only a couple of days after Queen Elizabeth II was crowned, but it was an achievement many had attempted in the past, and an accolade that many would pursue in the future. The National Geographic documents in great detail the expeditions over the last century; I am lucky to find many in my collection.

Perhaps this may seem an oddity, but I will begin with an article from January 1961 which wasn't necessarily a year for numb fingertips or Prussian blue noses, but a pinnacle year for Dag Hammarskjold, a security general at the UN. Instead of clambering the peaks, he took a flight around the area and observed with great reverence, the sheer challenge that Hillary and Tenzing faced. "They were an oddly matched pair but combined qualities to bring them to that summit." So very often, the success of these feats relies on the relationship shared between the undertakers; I have no doubt Hillary and Tenzing shared a burning passion for peril and a thirst for exploration. Dag, I think, expresses this himself. "To someone who has learnt to love the mountains and see in mountaineering one of the most satisfactory ways we can test our ability against nature, it is somewhat shameful to approach the Himalayas by plane."

Both Hillary et al. and Dag surveyed the beauty that the summit of Mt. Everest upholds, and yet I suspect Hillary's team savoured more satisfaction from the accomplishment. Climbing Everest has never been easy, and it never will be, so what drives those towards the venture? In August 1963, in the National Geographic, Barry Bishop of Maryland made the acquisition, but not without incident, and bed-bound in hospital for several weeks, he observed that "desire and determination" led him to fulfil his dream. "I'd have crawled on hands and knees."

'Big Jim' Whittaker, in the October 1963 edition- incidentally, the Society's 75th Anniversary Issue- comments that "man is at his best when reaching for something beyond his grasp." Climbing has always been celebrated internationally, and psychologically, it can uplift someone to a summit of euphoria. That seems to be the case for those who attained the apex of Mount Everest, and yet each mountaineer has their own unique feelings. Barry Bishop, upon reaching the zenith, wrote: "All inhibitions stripped away, we cry like babies. With joy for having scaled the mightiest of mountains; with relief that the long torture of the climb has ended." He goes on to make a very poignant point. "In the quiet of the hospital, I ponder the lessons we have learnt. Everest is a harsh and hostile immensity. Whoever challenges it declares war. He must mount his assault with the skill and ruthlessness of a military operation. And when the battle ends, the mountain remains unvanquished. There are no victors, only survivors."

Barry's feelings seem composed, but then he is making them from under the comparable luxury of the hospital bedsheets. In 1981, Reinhold Messner attempted to climb the highest mountain on Earth, completely solitary. From the pinnacle, his thoughts may seem less concrete but then he was probably unstable physically, such is the effect inspired by this altitude. "I still don't know how I managed to achieve the summit. I only know that I couldn't have gone any longer. I was at my limit."

Although George Lowe will be remembered for his notable efforts in the '53 climb, he also assisted a mission in 1983 with a team of 13 or so experienced mountaineers. The July 1984 article draws on the buttress that is named after him, following his scouring of it. It's over 3000 feet and the caption captures, I think, the essence of what a true mountaineer is all about. "George Lowe: one of our strongest climbers strikes a non-chalent pose with nothing beneath him but air."

This week we will mourn the loss of the last of the 1953 team, but Lowe's zeal for brushing so close to danger will live on, and it's this spirit that will support future mountaineers as they edge ever closer to any summit. From a National Geographic in September 1997, I shall draw a conclusion. "Climbers keep coming, not because Everest is the point of exploration, but because it is the path- the ultimate route for an inner journey that leads, they hope, to self discovery. Everest rarely delivers such big personal change. It's like they say," notes photographer Beidleman, "wherever you go, there you are."