May 24 – Return to Kathmandu: From Glacier to Hospital

As predicted by Tsering, our logistics leader, we were up at 6:30 AM for breakfast, breaking down our tents one final time in preparation for departure. It had been more than five weeks since we first arrived in Lukla on April 16. Now, Everest Base Camp was behind us—and Kathmandu ahead.

In anticipation of this day, we had already shipped our nonessential gear back to the city before our summit push. That bag included my base camp sleeping bag, lighter trekking clothes, my laptop, and any items we wouldn’t need above Camp 2. It was a relief to have just one duffle bag left to organize.

Due to the altitude (17,500 ft), helicopters departing Base Camp can only accommodate two passengers per flight. The helipad was a short walk from camp. Our team departed in stages, and I flew with Tsering at 8:15 AM, landing in Lukla just 15 minutes later.

There, we waited a few hours for a larger helicopter that could carry all five team members and the rest of our gear. Around 11:00 AM, we landed in Kathmandu’s domestic terminal. The 45-minute flight gave me time to imagine the luxuries I’d missed: a hot shower, a warm bed, and an ice-cold beer.

Since Saturdays are holidays in Kathmandu, the traffic was light. We checked into the Marriott Aloft in Thamel and retrieved our stored street clothes and personal belongings. After a hot shower and a blissful two-hour nap—the first time I’d slept in a real bed in over a month—I stepped on a scale: 162 pounds. I had lost 20 pounds since the expedition began.

At 4:30 PM, Mingma, our Kathmandu guide, picked me up and drove me to CIWEC Hospital. The doctors at the Everest Base Camp clinic had insisted I get a chest X-ray to rule out pneumonia.

At the hospital, a nurse inserted an IV and gave me 1.5 liters of fluid while blood samples were drawn. We then moved to radiology for the chest X-ray.

Good news: I did not have pneumonia.
Bad news: I had bronchitis, a sinus infection, high-altitude pulmonary edema (HAPE), and possibly high-altitude cerebral edema (HACE).
Worst news: I was so severely dehydrated I was on the verge of kidney failure.

Another issue I raised during the exam was the complete numbness in my toes. The doctor diagnosed me with chilblains—a cold-induced nerve condition that, while not as severe as frostbite, causes painful inflammation and temporary nerve damage. The good news: I wouldn't lose any tissue. The bad news: it would take weeks to fully heal.

I asked the doctor how much fluid I would need. He said I required five liters of electrolytes overnight to avoid serious complications. If I chose not to be admitted, I would still need to return the next morning for follow-up bloodwork before I could be cleared to fly.

I opted for the comfort of my hotel. I returned to the Aloft around 8:00 PM and went straight to bed, waking every two hours to drink a liter of water mixed with the electrolyte powder they sent me home with. It was a disciplined regimen, but it worked.

The next morning, I weighed myself—eight pounds heavier than the night before—and felt significantly better, though I was still coughing and sleeping in short stretches. I took a taxi back to CIWEC for the follow-up. The blood test confirmed it: I was cleared to fly.

The five liters of fluid had done the trick.  Our team met over lunch at the Aloft, and we said our goodbyes.  Ryan and I shared a taxi to the airport at 3:30 pm. My flight departed at 7:00 pm. Matt had already departed the night before, and Grace and Jason were planning a later departure to Seoul for two weeks of pampering in the large city. I was scheduled to fly to Dubai that night, and if all went smoothly, I would be back home by Memorial Day Monday. 

May 23 – Return to Base Camp: Descent by Air

I woke at 6:30 AM in Camp 2 after a sleepless night. The temperatures had finally risen as the wind died down, and the sun slowly began warming my tent. Still, I had barely slept—maybe 90 minutes total—waking every 15 minutes with violent coughing fits. My Garmin watch had died, so I couldn’t monitor my oxygen saturation. I had given Ryan my handheld pulse oximeter earlier in the week after his failed, leaving me with no way to determine whether my symptoms were altitude-related or simply the sinus infection that had worsened over the past 48 hours.

Regardless, I was in rough shape. I couldn’t swallow without pain, making it nearly impossible to drink. Even packing my sleeping bag into its compression sack felt like a monumental task. I flashed back to 2023, when I woke up in Camp 2 with pulmonary edema after a 4,000-foot ascent. That morning, my pulse ox was 56—a dangerously low number that nearly collapsed my lungs. I could barely walk five meters without stopping. Helicopter evacuation wasn’t an option due to snow, and I spent the day in a tent, on oxygen, waiting for the weather to clear. At 5:00 PM I was evacuated to Lukla and later flown to Kathmandu, ending my summit attempt.

But this morning was different. I could walk, talk, and function—just not well enough to face the treacherous six-hour descent through the Khumbu Icefall. At breakfast, I spoke with Ryan. The team planned to leave at 7:00 AM to descend safely through the Icefall before 2:00 PM. After that, the melting glacier becomes increasingly dangerous. Towering seracs collapse without warning, and twice in the last 10 days, falling ice had forced the Icefall Doctors to reroute the trail.

Attempting the descent in my condition would slow the team, increase their exposure to risk, and potentially worsen my own condition. Ryan radioed Tsering, our camp manager, who arranged a helicopter evacuation to Base Camp for medical evaluation.

As much as I hated ending the expedition by chopper, it was the right call.

At 7:15 AM, the team departed for Camp 1. Nema and I left shortly after for the helipad, 15 minutes downhill. I said goodbye to my teammates and arrived just as the helicopter appeared, circling above. At 21,500 feet, the air is so thin that helicopters must be stripped of extra weight—no seats, no cargo—to lift off safely.

I climbed into the bare cabin. Within minutes, we touched down at the helipad adjacent to our Base Camp. Tsering was waiting and helped me drop my gear at my tent. We then walked 20 minutes across the glacier to the Everest Base Camp medical tent.

The clinic, a quonset hut roughly 15 feet wide and 50 feet long, rested on a slab of ice near the center of camp. Two physicians examined me. Their diagnosis: a severe sinus infection, bronchitis, and likely pneumonia. They gave me an albuterol inhaler, Flonase, and a course of Augmentin, urging me to return to Kathmandu immediately for a chest X-ray and further treatment.

Back at camp, I rested while the rest of the team returned at 3:00 PM, visibly shaken from a harrowing descent. The Khumbu Icefall had been melting rapidly, turning the trail into a flowing river of glacial runoff. We later learned that a Sherpa had slipped and drowned in the rushing waters of the Khumbu River—an awful reminder of the hazards we had narrowly avoided.

That evening, we shared a hearty meal and a surprise chocolate cake made by our incredible base camp cooks. We also held a heartfelt thank-you ceremony for our Nepalese team—cooks, porters, Sherpas—tipping them generously for their unwavering support.

At 9:00 PM, we crawled into our tents for one last sleep on the glacier, anticipating a 6:00 AM wake-up and a helicopter ride back to the comforts of the Aloft Hotel in Thamel, Kathmandu.

The Day After the Summit – Thursday, May 22

Around 2:00 AM, I woke up feeling oddly constricted in my sleeping bag. Disoriented, I looked around and realized I had made a critical mistake—I’d forgotten to zip up the tent before falling asleep. At some point during the night, I had slid downhill into the vestibule—the coldest, most exposed part of the tent that opens to the outside. I quickly shimmied back into the main section, zipped the door shut, and tried to regain some warmth and rest.

Sleep, however, was elusive. All night, I coughed up thick green sputum—remnants of a bronchial infection that had worsened during the climb. My throat was raw, and every breath through my oxygen mask felt labored. I was on two liters per minute at 26,000 feet, trying to recover enough strength for the long descent ahead—first to Camp 3, then down to Camp 2.

At 7:30 AM, one of our Sherpa guides brought hot water and oatmeal to my tent. I tucked my frozen yellow summit suit into my sleeping bag, using my body heat to thaw the wet, stiff fabric. By 9:00 AM, my gear was packed into stuff sacks for the Sherpa team to carry down to Camp 2. My own pack was light—just a spare pair of gloves, a liter of water, and my oxygen cylinder.

We set out into a clear morning with mild wind, heading down toward Camp 3. As we descended, we had to carefully pass more than 100 climbers making their way up the Geneva Spur—a steep and technical section leading to Camp 4. The narrow 18-inch-wide traverse forced us to alternate clip-ins on the fixed lines, passing one climber at a time in a delicate dance of coordination.

We paused briefly at a small camp used by those attempting Lhotse before continuing down the rope line to the top of the Lhotse Face—a massive wall of snow and ice that stretches three-quarters of a mile and drops 6,000 feet at a 40- to 50-degree angle. We would descend the entire face today, stopping briefly at Camp 3 about halfway down.

Descending a wall like this requires absolute focus. We stayed clipped into fixed ropes with two attachment points. On flatter sections, we used the rope as a brake, wrapping it around our arms. On steeper terrain, we rappelled facing the mountain, using a figure-eight descender. Some rope segments were 60 meters long; others were shorter and more technical. Each transition required reattaching gear—a challenge when working with bulky mittens.

We reached Camp 3 around 4:00 PM. I laid flat in a tent to regain some strength while a solemn scene unfolded nearby: a Sherpa guide and three team members were carefully lowering the body of a deceased climber, strapped into a yellow sled, down the fixed lines. It was a dangerous and delicate operation requiring extraordinary coordination.

After some rest, Ryan, Nema, and I resumed the descent, rappelling rope length after rope length until we reached the bergschrund—a final technical ice wall with a deep crevasse marking the transition to the Western CWM snowfield. At the base, one of our Sherpa guides from Camp 2 greeted us with hot water and a lighter pack, which I gratefully swapped for my heavier gear.

As the sun dipped low, we descended the gentle 1,500-foot slope toward Camp 2. After losing 8,000 feet in elevation since summiting, I felt a wave of relief. I was just hours away from a hot meal, electric power to charge my devices, and only one more challenge—the Khumbu Icefall—before reaching Everest Base Camp.

But the final stretch was brutal. Exhausted after a 12-hour day, I began stumbling over sharp rocks as we neared camp. Over dinner—noodles and soup—I fought hard to stay awake, doing my best not to spill my food. Jason and Grace, who had arrived earlier, were there, and for the first time, we could all celebrate completing the Seven Summits together.

Ryan reminded us that breakfast would be served at 7:00 AM and that we would begin our descent through Camp 1 and the Khumbu Icefall, aiming to reach Base Camp by 1:00 PM.

As I zipped into my sleeping bag, the cough deepened. My congestion and sputum worsened, and I could feel the sinus infection draining my remaining stamina. I fell asleep around 11:00 PM, but rest came only in short, 20-minute waves—each one interrupted by deep, hacking coughs. I prayed I would recover enough power in the next 8 hours to be ready for the final push home. 

Summit Day – May 21: My Final Push on Mount Everest

I'm writing this much later than I intended. Since returning to Northern Virginia on Memorial Day, I’ve been in full recovery mode—physically and mentally drained from 45 days spent above 17,000 feet, battling bronchitis, mild frostbite, and a close call with high-altitude pulmonary edema (HAPE). Everest took its toll, but I owe everyone a full recounting of what happened on summit day—and the long, unforgiving road back down.

The Climb Begins

At 11:00 PM on May 20, we left Camp 4 (South Col, 26,083 ft) and began our summit bid under a moonless sky. I turned on my Garmin InReach so friends and supporters could track my progress—but the -15°F temperature quickly drained the battery. Moments into the climb, I realized I’d made a serious mistake: the thick socks I’d saved for summit night were damp from a spill earlier. Moisture at this altitude freezes instantly. I returned to my tent to change socks—a slow, difficult task requiring me to remove triple-layer boots and crampons—but it was necessary.

By the time I rejoined the route, the rest of the group had moved ahead. Only Nema, my Sherpa, had stayed back with me.

Climbing Into the Wind

The winds had calmed compared to the violent gusts of the day before. We climbed steadily through 4–6 inches of fresh snow, heading toward the Balcony (27,500 ft). The sky was clear and dark, broken only by the faint glow of distant headlamps. Around 5:00 AM, the sun rose behind us—a brief moment of beauty in an otherwise punishing ascent.

Just below the Balcony, my legs faltered. I wasn’t gaining altitude, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I had run out of oxygen. Dizzy and disoriented, I signaled to Nema, who calmly pulled one of the extra 7-pound tanks from his pack. He had been carrying three bottles—two for me, one for himself.

At the Balcony, we rejoined Ryan, our guide. After a quick break (my water bottles were half-frozen despite deep insulation), we pressed on toward the South Summit.

Whiteout on the Ridge

From the Balcony, we climbed a narrow 18-inch-wide ridge, fully exposed to 10–25 mph crosswinds and complete whiteout conditions. No climbers in sight—no queues, no footsteps—just a windswept void. The solitude was surreal.

At 12:30 PM, we reached the South Summit (28,700 ft). It’s typically the first place climbers glimpse the final summit ridge—usually crawling with people. For us, it was empty. Just me and Nema, alone in the wind.

The Moment of Truth

As we approached the Hillary Step, I paused. I knew I was operating on less than 50% of my physical capacity. It was 1:30 PM, and I was exhausted. Turning back seemed sensible—but I trusted Ryan and Nema completely. I chose to push on.

At the base of the Step lay the body of a fallen climber. To clip into the fixed ropes, I had to step around him and use his backpack for footing. A sobering moment. At the top of the Hillary Step, Ryan appeared, descending with Grace and Jason, who had summited 30 minutes earlier.

Ryan said simply, “Let’s go, Len.”

The Summit

Twenty minutes later—after ten hours of climbing—I stood on the summit of Mount Everest (29,032 ft). No view. Just wind, whiteout, and silence.

We took a photo with the Hopecam flag and another with a picture of Davian, the young man we were honoring that day. Nema and I shared a final photo before beginning our descent.

We spent just ten minutes at the summit. My phone battery was dead, and my fingers were numb—but the memory of that final push—the solitude, the resolve, the trust—will stay with me forever.

The Descent

The descent was a mix of rappelling and arm-wrapping down fixed lines, leaping over obstacles, and navigating steep terrain. Though downhill is faster, it’s far more dangerous. I was grateful for the double safety checks by Ryan and Nema as we descended 3,000 vertical feet.

Near the ridge leading back to the Balcony—about halfway down—I became disoriented and drifted off trail. Suddenly, I plunged chest-deep into a crevasse, less than five feet from the route. I had run out of oxygen again.

Tethered to the safety line, I was left suspended above a 50-foot chasm. Nema motioned for me to roll gently toward the rope, then pulled me to safety. Once back on the ridge, he swapped in a fresh tank, and the trail came back into view. Ryan was waiting 100 feet below.

We descended the final 1,500 feet to Camp 4 in darkness, guided by headlamps and seven more rope lines. The final ice field was slick but led us straight to the tents at South Col.

Return to Camp

We’d been on our feet for 22 hours. Winds were howling again as I slid into the tent vestibule, removed my crampons, and crawled into my sleeping bag. It was 9:00 PM. My tentmate Matt, who had returned to Camp 2 earlier due to snow blindness, had vacated the tent. A single-person tent is far colder than one with two bodies, and it took a while to feel warmth again.

By 11:00 PM, a deep cough had set in—this time with thick green mucus. It was the start of something more serious that would complicate my descent in the days ahead.

But for now, I knew this: I had done it.

I had reached the top of the world.

Stay tuned—I’ll be sharing more about my journey from Camp 4 to home, and the moments of reflection that followed.

Len Forkas Summits Mt. Everest

BREAKING NEWS!!! Hopecam Founder Len Forkas Summits Mt. Everest, Completing the Seven Summits to Support Children Battling Cancer!!

Here it is—the official photo of Hopecam founder Len Forkas - on top of the world at the summit of Mt. Everest! With temperatures below -40 and a fierce snowstorm raging, he reached the summit of Everest.

Len Forkas at the TOP OF MT. EVEREST!

With this incredible achievement, Len has joined the elite Seven Summits Club—having climbed the highest peak on each continent:

  • Mount Everest (Asia)

  • Aconcagua (South America)

  • Denali (North America)

  • Kilimanjaro (Africa)

  • Mount Elbrus (Europe)

  • Vinson Massif (Antarctica)

  • Mount Kosciuszko (Australia) and he also climbed the the Carstensz Pyramid (Oceania)

As Len climbed toward the summit of Everest, he carried with him the stories and photos of 25 Hopecam children—each one a source of strength and inspiration, pushing him to climb higher.

“By taking these children with me, it shows them that someone is thinking about them, someone cares,” Forkas says. “But really, they motivate me. If I’m winded, freezing, or having a tough day climbing, I think about what they’re enduring — some kids go through 30 straight days of radiation. That puts everything in perspective.” - Len Forkas

Len Forkas honoring Hopecam Child Davian at the Top of Mt. Everest

He set a personal goal to reach the top of Everest—and he did it.

Now, he’s aiming for another summit: raising $1 million to help Hopecam connect more children with cancer to their classrooms, friends, and communities.

Cancer isolates. Connection heals.

Your support can bring hope to a child facing the toughest climb of all.

Help us reach Len’s final goal. Take us over the top—make a donation today.

Thank you Len Forkas, for carrying the hopes of all the Hopecam children with you as you climbed Mt. Everest.

You reached the summit - and you’re our HERO.

Don’t miss Len’s firsthand account of his climb to the summit—coming soon!

Reflections From Camp 4 - Before the Final Push

Wicked night here at Camp 4

A massive windstorm tore through with gusts over 45 knots, violently shaking our tent from all sides. It felt like the whole thing might lift off. The temperature outside plummeted to -40°C — it reminded me of Antarctica.

Today, we got some much-needed rest while the wind continued to batter the tents, still gusting up to 45 mph. It's 4:30 p.m. now, and I’m chugging electrolytes. When I run out, my hands start to cramp badly. I had to down the last of my supply just to unstick my fingers. Thankfully, my Sherpa team helped locate enough to get me through tomorrow and the next day. That was a lucky break — extra supplies are extremely limited up here at Camp 4.

Between sips of water, I’m going through all my gear, double-checking every item. Once we leave this camp, that’s it — no turning back.

I feel terrible for Matt, my tentmate. He was here three years ago and had to abandon his climb when both he and his Sherpa got sick between Camps 3 and 4. Since arriving on April 11, he’s been one of the strongest climbers in the group. But yesterday, he didn’t wear his sunglasses or goggles — even after a few reminders from Ryan, our guide. It was overcast, and it seemed like a borderline call, but by the time he got back to the tent, his eyes were burning. He thought it was just sunscreen, but Ryan later diagnosed him with snow blindness — burned retinas. It takes days to recover. He now has to descend back to C3, then C2, C1, and ultimately Everest Base Camp.

Two of our Sherpas are dealing with the same condition. It really drives home how razor-thin the margin of error is up here. One small mistake, and your summit chances are gone.

I’m being extremely cautious. Hydrating constantly. I’ve already consumed five liters today, with three more to go. I’m peeing every 45 minutes, but after talking to eight people who’ve summited, this is the formula: dial in your systems and be fully prepared when it’s time to move. We will be leaving tonight for the summit.

I am climbing from Camp 4 to the Summit and thinking about Hopecam Child Davian. Davian appreciates the internet access Hopecam provides during long hospital stays and hospital visits - it helps him stay connected.  Davian’s resilience and patience in overcoming challenges make everyone proud of him, and Hopecam has created a happy place for him—it allows him not to feel isolated and to be more a part of his normal life.

Davian enjoys watching Disney movies with his family, has loved art and coloring since he was 11 months old, and loves teddy bears - they are his spirit animal. He dreams of becoming an artist, fashion designer, tennis player, or architect.

His message to me was “Thanks, Mr. Len, for all you do for “us kids.” Please be careful on Mount Everest. Here is a quote I want to share with you: “Faith is the key that opens those mountains and removes them when needed.”  - Davian

As I make this final push up the mountain, Davian, you’ll be with me. Your strength, your resilience, and everything you’re overcoming will drive me to the top.

Update: Len and his team have officially begun their summit push! Stay tuned for more updates as they make their way to the top.

Camp 4 Arrival - Above 25,000 Feet: Life, Death, and the Waiting Game

We arrived at Camp 4 at 6:00 PM. The winds were already strong—about 20 mph. We started our ascent at 6:00 AM and finished at 6:00 PM. Elevation here: 25,924 ft. Welcome to the Death Zone. Along the route, we encountered two fallen climbers, a powerful reminder of the mountain's unforgiving nature.

This is officially the highest point I’ve ever been. We were fortunate to have light winds and cloud cover during the climb. A lot of climbers were descending as we came up, which slowed us down and added hours to the approach. Since we arrived so late, we need time to recover—and the wind is only going to get worse.

Just got the latest weather update: a jet stream event is forming over the Bay of Bengal. Winds tonight are expected to reach 45 knots, which makes summiting far too dangerous. Right now, it looks like Wednesday night may be our new window, but we’ll wait and see what the forecast says.

We’re breathing supplemental oxygen 24/7 inside the tent—this is the Death Zone after all—but we’re doing okay. Ryan wants to play it safe, avoid frostbite, and wait for the right moment.

We will attempt the summit tomorrow afternoon if the weather cooperates.

As we made the ascent up the mountain to Camp 4, I honored Hopecam Child Gia. She told me “Mr. Len - I am grateful for what you are doing for kids like me and I hope your journey is safe and filled with fun!” - Gia

Meet Hopecam Child Gia

Climbing the Lhotse Face: Reaching Camp 3 at 23,000 Feet

I made it to Camp 3 at 1:00 PM after leaving camp at 6:30 AM—just over two miles of climbing and a grueling 2,700 vertical feet, topping out at 23,000 ft on the Lhotse Face. Thank God for bottled oxygen. I started with a flow rate of ½ liter per hour and gradually increased it to 2 liters as we climbed.

Camp 3 is literally carved into the side of the mountain. It’s dangerously exposed, so you can’t go outside without being clipped into a rope. As soon as I arrived, I got to work rearranging the inside of the tent to lay out our sleeping pads along the slope of the grade. My tentmate, Matt, helped shift everything 90 degrees, and that made a huge difference in comfort.

Matt’s an interesting guy—he has a Ph.D. in Governmental Leadership, but also took a civil engineering grading class back in architecture school. Handy knowledge to have up here.

The weather today is perfect—sunny, calm, and surprisingly warm. We’ve been watching dozens of climbers descending from Camp 4. If all goes well, we’ll be up early tomorrow aiming to reach C4 before lunch, just like today.

I’m feeling strong and well-rested. Wake-up is set for 3:30 AM, with breakfast at 4:30 AM and begin the second half of the Lhotse Face. It’s a long, steep climb over snow, ice, and rock, and should take about six hours. We aim to reach Camp 4 by lunchtime.

From there, it’s all about recovery. I’ll drink four liters of electrolytes, stay bundled in my sleeping bag, and try to conserve energy.

At 10:00 PM, we begin our SUMMIT PUSH. The climb will be long and brutally cold (-30°F), and it’s tough to eat or drink once we’re moving.

If all goes well, we’ll reach the summit sometime between 8:00 and 10:00 AM on TUESDAY, take photos, raise the Hopecam flag, and then descend back to Camp 4 (hopefully by 3:00 PM). I’ll send a text once I’m safely back at Camp 4.

Thanks for following along on this journey.

Summit Push Begins Tomorrow

Good afternoon from Camp 2 on Mount Everest — 21,300 feet above sea level.

It’s a bright, sunny day here. The solar radiation is intense — it’s over 95°F inside my tent. I spent most of the afternoon organizing gear for tomorrow’s early departure to Camp 3.

We’ll leave at 5:30 AM, all suited up in our one-piece summit suits — an integrated down jacket and pants system designed to handle the brutal -30°F temperatures we’ll face during our final push to the summit on Tuesday. Although we won’t need that kind of insulation tomorrow, we’ll be wearing the full suit as we climb the Lhotse Face en route to Camps 3 and 4.

After 8:00 AM, the face heats up dramatically — temperatures can hit 90°F from the sun’s reflection off the ice. So we hope to reach Camp 3 by 11:00 AM to beat the worst of the heat.

Everything nonessential stays behind at Camp 2: extra jackets, PrimaLoft layers, luxuries like headphones, spare underwear, buffs, and electronics. From here on out, we’ll also be carrying a 20-liter oxygen tank (weighing about 5 lbs), along with a mask and regulator — it’s time for supplemental oxygen.

The guides and porters will carry sleeping bags, food, and extra base layers to Camp 3 — about 15 lbs of gear per person — which lightens our packs significantly and makes the ascent more manageable.

The weather window still looks favorable through the 21st. Today we saw over 200 climbers and guides making their way from Camp 3 to Camp 4. Our only real concern is crowding, but by delaying our summit push by a day, we’ve done all we can to mitigate that risk.

It’s 1:30 PM and sweltering inside my tent – the sun is beating down on the Western CWM, pushing the temperature close to 90°F.

I wanted to take a moment to share a clear picture of what’s ahead over the next few days. I’ll be offline, so this is the most complete update I can offer for now.

We’re all resting today before beginning a four-day back-to-back push to the summit and return.

⸻

SUNDAY – Climb to Camp 3 (23,000 ft)

We’ll leave around 5:30 AM, climbing across a gently sloping snowfield before hitting the Lhotse Face – a 900-foot wall steeper than a staircase. Our goal is to reach it by 8:30 AM, before the sun turns the slope into a solar oven (temps can hit 90°F by mid-morning).

We’ll be in full summit suits and breathing bottled oxygen, which helps reduce stress and keeps my oxygen saturation (SpO2) at a safer level.

We’ll spend the night at Camp 3, eating freeze-dried meals and trying to rest for the big day ahead.

⸻

MONDAY – Climb to Camp 4 (South Col, 26,000 ft)

We’ll be up by 4:30 AM and begin the second half of the Lhotse Face. It’s a long, steep climb over snow, ice, and rock, and should take about six hours. We aim to reach Camp 4 by lunchtime.

From there, it’s all about recovery. I’ll drink four liters of electrolytes, stay bundled in my sleeping bag, and try to conserve energy.

At 10:00 PM, we begin our SUMMIT PUSH. The climb will be long and brutally cold (-30°F), and it’s tough to eat or drink once we’re moving.

If all goes well, we’ll reach the summit sometime between 8:00 and 10:00 AM on TUESDAY, take photos, raise the Hopecam flag, and then descend back to Camp 4 (hopefully by 3:00 PM). I’ll send a text once I’m safely back at Camp 4.

⸻

WEDNESDAY – Descent to Camp 2

We’ll sleep a few hours at Camp 4, then begin our descent to Camp 2 at 6:00 AM, arriving by mid-morning.

⸻

THURSDAY – Back to Base Camp

Final descent to Everest Base Camp. We expect to arrive around noon.

⸻

FRIDAY or SATURDAY – Helicopter to Kathmandu

Depending on weather and availability, we’ll fly back to Kathmandu by helicopter.

⸻

Thanks for following along on this journey. I’ll be in touch as soon as I’m able after the summit.

Since I won’t have access to post, I took the opportunity to honor two Hopecam children—Masie and Milan—while at Camp 2.

Hopecam Child Milan told me - “Mr. Len, we are so grateful that you made this possible for so many kids. May God bless you always. Hopecam is amazing! My mom and I didn't have internet at home, but Hopecam made my days easier during my cancer treatment. I was happy to be busy at the hospital and have online classes. Thank you so much.” - Milan

Milan, your strength is my inspiration as I push toward the summit.

Hopecam Child Masie is only 3 years old and her mom told me - “Hopecam puts a smile on Masie's face, even when she is not feeling well. I’m proud that Masie is a fighter! She was diagnosed and had major surgery at the age of 2, and now she is 3 and steadily pushing herself to get through this. Masie’s favorite thing to do is play outside, and she wants to be a firefighter when she grows up. Masie uses her Hopecam tablet to play learning games and watch shows.” - Masie’s Mom

“I am very thankful to be a part of Hopecam!” - Masie

Masie, you’ve faced so much at such a young age. I’m carrying your positivity and resilience with me as I climb closer to the summit.

One Step Higher: The Climb to Camp 2

We started our day at 6:00 a.m. under bright daylight, with the steady crunch of boots on snow as climbers passed our camp en route to Camp 2. In the background, you could hear coughing, spitting, and the chatter of Nepalese voices. I had rolled into my tent at 3:00 a.m. after spending nine grueling hours navigating the Khumbu Icefall—a relentless stretch of full-contact climbing. For the next 16 hours, I focused on recovery: resting, eating, drinking, and peeing into my 1.5-liter Nalgene bottle.

Climbing the Icefall demands everything: ladders, ascenders, ropes, belays, harnesses, helmets, headlamps, crampons, triple boots, glacier glasses to guard against snow blindness, and a thick layer of sunscreen—especially on your ears and beneath your nose. The sun’s reflection off the snow (radiation) can burn parts of your body you’d never imagine.

Breakfast was a classic freeze-dried combo of mashed potatoes and mac and cheese. I went to The bathroom in my vestibule holding up a gray "wag bag" to my rear as I squatted in the privacy of my solo tent. With the potty tent at Camp 1 long been moved to Camp 2 so that's the ritual at C1 but it's the best feeling to get that over with and not have to deal with the urge during the climb to C2.

By 8:00 a.m., the sun began to bake the Western CWM, turning the glacier into a furnace. It gets stupid hot out there. At 7:30 a.m., Matt, Grace, and Jason arrived at Camp 1 after climbing all night, reaching Camp 2 at 11:30 a.m. I was amazed at their stamina climbing for over 11 hours without out rest.

During our own climb, we stopped every hour to recharge and rehydrate. As we neared the entrance to Camp 2, one of the cooks met us with orange juice and even offered to shoulder my backpack for the final 30-minute push to camp. We arrived, rested, and set up our tents, waiting for lunch in the dining tent at 1:30 p.m.

There, we were joined by the legendary Argentina Climber Willie Benegas. He is supported logistically by the same team Ryan uses. He is solo guiding an Argentinian climber to the summit. Both are fast &capable climbers.

Saturday is a full rest and recovery day at Camp 2. On Sunday, we begin our push to Camp 3.

We climbed for Hopecam kid Oliver. Oliver uses his Hopecam to keep himself entertained during his long days of chemo and in the hospital. When he grows up, he wants to be a swim instructor. Hopecam has provided him with the ability to help him learn schoolwork while away from home. Today was for you Oliver!

On My Way to Summit - Camp 1: The Ascent Begins

We left at 4:00 AM and arrived at Camp 1 around 1:00 PM—same time as last time, about 9 hours total. We ascended 2,864 feet, descended about 300 feet, and covered 3.47 miles. The route has changed quite a bit from just a week ago—several seracs have collapsed, forcing a detour that extended the climb.

Conditions started out fairly pleasant, with temps above 20°F, but some of the rock sections before “Crampon Point” were coated in ice and extremely slick. That’s the transition spot where the rocks end and the glacier begins. Surprisingly, we saw very few climbers on the route today.

Pulse ox is at 76 and climbing—feeling better after a solid 2-hour nap. Temps here swing wildly from 20°F to 80°F when the sun's out. It actually feels super hot right now.

Dinner tonight is mushroom stroganoff—just add hot water, stir, and wait a few minutes. Simple and satisfying.

Tomorrow we climb to Camp 2 at the Western CWM. If the weather holds, the summit could be just a few more days away. I’ll share all my videos and photos when I return to Base Camp.

Leaving Base Camp to Camp 1

We climbed for Hopecam Kid Dominick. Through his Hopecam connection, Dominick is able to connect with his class virtually. His favorite part is joining circle time, where they sing songs, discuss what day it is, and do affirmations. He loves being able to participate in class while in the hospital. This has made a HUGE difference in Dominick's happiness, and he reminds his family each day when it's time to get on Hopecam.  “As his parent, seeing him smile and still be a part of his favorite activities makes me incredibly grateful to Hopecam.” Todays trek was for you Dominick!

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Change of Plans and a Tactical Pause

As the saying goes, all good plans are just guidelines—especially on Everest.

Our leadership team made the call to pause my departure by 24 hours, and after reviewing the details, it was clearly the right move. Four key factors shaped the decision:

  1.  Team Recovery: Our five Nepalese climbing guides had just returned from four grueling days above 7,000 meters, hauling oxygen, tents, fuel, and food to Camp 4. They need more time to rest before we push higher.

  2. Weather Shift: The winds on our initial target summit day, May 19, are stronger than forecasted. That means colder temperatures at the start and increased frostbite risk.

  3. Summit Traffic: May 17–19 now looks to be the peak window for summit attempts, with hundreds of climbers on the route. Clogging at the Hillary Step and other bottlenecks could be a factor.

  4. A Better Option: May 20 should be significantly less crowded. We estimate that more than 60% of the 450 registered climbers will have either summited or turned back by then. While May 22–24 also look good, waiting that long poses new risks and many teams will go late because the season is shaping up to be longer this year.

The downside to this adjustment? Winds of 25 mph are expected early at Camp 4 on the morning of the 21st, making the descent to Camp 2 colder and potentially more challenging.

Tonight at 4:00 a.m., Ryan and I will begin our climb through the Khumbu Icefall and bivouac at Camp 1. The rest of our team departs Friday at 2:00 a.m. and should reach Camp 1 around 9:00 a.m.—we’ll be waiting with hot water and food before we all move up together to Camp 2.

This is a good strategy for a reducing the risk of too much stress for me.

One step at a time.

Life at Base Camp: Staying Busy Before the Ascent

Base Camp Briefings & Summit Outlook

Daily Dispatch from Everest Base Camp

Today was all about preparation. We finalized the food we’ll take to Camp 3 and Camp 4—where the only things available are hot water and coffee. Meals at that altitude are limited to freeze-dried options, so I chose mushroom stroganoff and chili beef with noodles—simple comforts in extreme conditions.

We also trained on the oxygen systems we’ll rely on from Camp 2 to the summit. These systems are critical for survival in the “death zone” above 8,000 meters. We’ll be using Summit Oxygen regulators, which can be adjusted from 0.5 to 4 liters per minute depending on altitude and exertion. Today’s lesson covered how they connect and how they deliver oxygen effectively at altitudes over 23,000 feet.

This day was dedicated to Hopecam Child Declan, a courageous young man from North Carolina. After being diagnosed with leukemia, he struggled with anxiety. But recently, he chose to be baptized—and since then, he’s found peace, putting his journey in God’s hands. Declan, I understand. Whether I reach the summit of Everest or not, I’ve placed my outcome in God’s hands too. I’ve done the training, the preparation, and I won’t quit. The rest is up to the mountain—and I’m at peace with that. Thanks for your faith in me, my friend.

News Flash!

I’m departing tomorrow for Camp 1. The rest of the team will leave the next day and go directly to Camp 2, so I’ll join them as they pass through camp one. Two years ago I went from base camp to camp 2 - 4,000 vertical feet in one 14 hour push and I got sick. So to avoid the risk of that happening again I’m leaving a day earlier. “Slow and steady wins the race” says the turtle in the book the tortoise and the hare. I will have internet at camp 2 intermittently so I’ll do my best to post updates but the target summit day is May 20th when the winds are low and skies are clear.

Here is the current schedule - weather permitting

  • Thursday EBC to C1 (Len only) 

  • Friday C1 to C2 team 

  • Saturday C2 rest day 

  • Sunday C2 to C3

  • Monday C3 to C4

  • Tuesday summit day - sleep C4

  • Wednesday C4 to C2

  • Thursday C2 to EBC

French pressed coffee At Everest Base Camp tastes a lot better than my Keurig back home, and my morning ritual “Keeper of the Flame” on those cold Everest mornings.

Between the Calm and the Climb

Another Day at Base Camp: Finding Comfort in Routine

Yesterday was all about rest and recovery here at Base Camp. We took the opportunity to sleep in, do some laundry, and reorganize our gear for the climb ahead. I also shared a video of my nightly routine—mostly mundane, but with a few comforts that make life at 17,500 feet a bit more bearable.

The one luxury I allow myself at base camp is a battery-powered electric blanket. I’d never take it higher on the mountain, but since I’ll be spending close to three weeks here, it’s my go-to for taking the edge off these frigid nights. Call it a badge of comfort—I’ll gladly wear it as temperatures dip below -10°F.

Other essentials: a thick pair of warm socks, a Nalgene bottle filled with steaming hot water, eye mask when the sun rises at 5:45 am, and my Bose noise-canceling headphones—absolutely necessary when helicopters start landing just 100 yards away at 6 AM.

Sometimes, it’s the small rituals that sleeping in a tent at 17,500 feet night after night tolerable.

Shaking Off the Rust

After two solid days of well-earned rest, our guide Ryan Waters decided we were getting a little too comfortable. So, he rallied us for what was supposed to be a two-hour hike from Everest Base Camp toward the trails near Mt. Pumori. With a few slight wrong turns it turned into a 3.5-hour trek.

No big deal—unless you didn’t bring enough fluids or fuel. After two hours, I completely burned through my glycogen stores and started to bonk. Luckily, Jason tossed me a power bar and it was like flipping a switch—I bounced right back.

Lesson for Len: prepare for the worst. What would have happened if someone was injured ?

In total, we covered 4.2 miles and climbed 1,400 feet. The terrain was rugged, the wind biting, and the cold unrelenting—but it was exactly what we needed. We’d grown a little too sedentary recovering from our last rotation. After lunch, we all crashed for naps, and it couldn’t have been better timed—it’s been snowing ever since.

We watched in awe and silence as an avalanche thundered down the slopes, close to Base Camp. This happens every day on Mt Everest, as the sun warms up the avalanches are triggered.

The real excitement is building: tonight, we expect to hear a rough outline of the summit schedule. The rope-fixing team has completed their work—there are now continuous lines all the way to the top. Our logistics team is busy hauling oxygen, tents, and food up to Camps 3 and 4. Once that’s in place, the Sherpas and guides will descend to rest before joining us for the final push.

One of the more beautiful traditions at Base Camp is the small temples called a “chorten” each team builds for their puja—a blessing ceremony led by a local lama to ask Chomolungma the goddess of Sagarmatha (Everest) for safe passage. These intricate shrines, often made of stone, prayer flags, and symbolic offerings, dot the glacier like sacred landmarks. I’ve included a few photos of some of the stunning temples.

Today, we trekked in honor of Hopecam Child Jayden—every step a stand in his fight against cancer. Jayden is the oldest of four kids, and his dad is in the Army, and they live 400 miles away from family and friends. Hopecam has been a true blessing to their family, as it allows him to connect and talk to everyone back home. Jayden uses his tablet to connect and self-regulate since he has autism as well as cancer.

Ryan Waters Owner Mountain Professionals and Lead Guide shares Jayden’s story.

Recovery Mode: Activated

Today was the perfect day to do absolutely nothing — and that’s exactly what I did. After crashing at 9:30 PM, I slept straight through to 8:00 AM. Climbing from Base Camp at 17,300 feet to the base of the Lhotse Face at 22,200 feet over four days — then descending that entire elevation in just one — took a serious toll. I staggered into camp yesterday, running on fumes after getting just three hours of sleep the night before at Camp 2.

That kind of physical stress is part of the acclimatization process, triggering increased red blood cell production. But it also comes with consequences. One of them is the infamous “Khumbu Cough” — a dry, hacking irritation triggered simply by breathing or speaking in the frigid, thin air. Several of us returned to Base Camp with it — myself included.

Thanks to internet access (and a little help from ChatGPT), I learned that prednisone can help. I’d brought a supply for knee pain, recommended by my cycling friend Brian Daum, and started a pack yesterday. The turnaround was immediate. This morning I felt 100% better — breathing easier, no cough, and best of all, pain-free knees.

The day began sunny and warm, and I took the opportunity to film a walkthrough of our Base Camp setup — including my tent. By afternoon, the snow returned, and with it, the inevitable cleanup.

Rest days like this are a rare gift up here. And today, I took full advantage.

Return to Everest Base Camp: A Journey Through the Khumbu Icefall

Today, we broke camp at 6:20 AM, embarking on our descent to Everest Base Camp after five challenging days at altitudes ranging from 20,000 to 22,500 feet. The weather was mild, with overcast skies and light winds making it feel around 0°F. Our trek to Camp 1 took 75 minutes, where we paused briefly to speak with world record holder of 14 8,000 meter peaks in 6 months - Kristin Harila

We tackled the formidable Khumbu Icefall. This section is notorious for its shifting seracs and deep crevasses. We practiced rappelling down over 4 ice walls and carefully crossed crevasses using aluminum ladders spanning 5 to 15 feet. At one point, we descended a series of five ladders strapped together—a true test of nerve and skill.

As we neared Base Camp, the increasing ice melt around noon presented slippery rock, ice and SCREE, demanding our full attention. At the exit of the Icefall, a government official weighed our waste—both garbage and human—to ensure compliance with Nepal’s environmental regulations. This initiative aims to preserve the mountain’s pristine condition, and we were proud to contribute our poop to the effort.

Back at Base Camp, situated at 17,300 feet, we were greeted with the comforts of hot showers, warm mattresses, and heated dining tents. It’s a welcome respite, allowing us to recuperate and think through our upcoming summit attempt dates.

We honored Hopecam child Addie on our descent back to Base Camp. Addie’s favorite thing to do using the Hopecam is to use it for IXL and Lexia for school. She also added extra reading apps. The Hopecam tablet has helped her family navigate schoolwork for not just Addie but for three of their other kids while being away from school! It keeps her family connected with them.

She told me “Len, I am very thankful for this tablet, which helps me get through school work and connects me with my teacher and classmates.”

Training, Trust, and Safe Choices

We left Camp 2 at 6:20 AM, heading toward Camp 3 under hazy skies—a relief, since the route up the Lhotse Face can get very hot in direct sun. The trek from Camp 2 to the base of the face climbs about 1,500 vertical feet, reaching an elevation of 22,172 feet. It’s a steady grind up a gradual snow slope, with just a few crevasse leaps along the way, but overall, it was manageable.

During the three-hour climb, I could feel my energy draining—a clear sign my blood oxygen (SpO2) was dropping. At Base Camp, my SpO2 was 86. It dipped to 79 at Camp 1, then to 74 at Camp 2. I had set a personal cutoff of 70 to turn back. When Ryan checked at the base of the Lhotse Face, my reading had fallen into the 60s.

With that, we made the call to skip the final 700-foot push and return to Camp 2. The risk of triggering another case of high-altitude pulmonary edema (HAPE) wasn’t worth it on a training rotation. We chose the "better safe than sorry" path.

Still, it was a solid day and a strong finish to our high-altitude training. Tomorrow, we’ll pack up early and head back to Everest Base Camp.

While at Camp 2 we honored Hopecam kid Dmitri, and my climb heading towards Camp 3 we honored Hopecam kid Hunter.

Hopecam kid Dmitri’s favorite way to use Hopecam is to connect with my school. Hopecam has made Dmitri feel less isolated and alone. Most of his time is spent in the hospital, so you can feel disconnected from your life. He told me ”Len, when things get hard, I like to think of my family and friends. They always give me strength. I also pray a lot. I like to talk to God and tell Him how I’m feeling. I also like to think of what I will be able to do once the hard thing I’m doing is over. Thank you for climbing for me!”

Hopecam kid Hunter’s favorite thing to do with his Hopecam is learn Sign Language. Hopecam has helped Hunter transition from public school to a more relaxed learning environment, which is good for his mental and physical well-being. He told me “Len, my favorite thing to do is play basketball, and I want to be an NBA legend. My favorite thing to do with my Hopecam is learn Sign Language. I want you to know that what you are doing is impressive, and thank you so much for honoring me.”

Camp 2 Arrival

We left Camp 1 at 8:20 AM. Within 30 minutes, the sun was so intense I had to strip off two layers and put away my gloves. Although the air temperature was just 30°F, the sun’s reflection off the canyon walls and glacier ice created a magnifying effect -it felt like 97°F.

Today's trek through the Western Cwm couldn’t have been more different from yesterday’s grueling 9-hour obstacle course through the Khumbu Icefall. The Western Cwm is a vast glacial valley between Everest Base Camp and Camp 2, sitting just above the Icefall. Camp 2 lies at the base of the towering Lhotse Face, reached after traversing this open, sun-scorched basin.

We covered 2.6 miles today with 1,368 feet of vertical gain, finishing in just 3 hours and 45 minutes—a stark contrast to the 9-mile, 2,800-foot climb from Base Camp to Camp 1. We’ve now reached an elevation of 21,252 feet.

We arrived before noon to a secluded spot in Camp 2, far from the main cluster of tents. The views here are absolutely unreal—Indescribably beautiful. Each of us has our own private tent, and unlike Camp 1, we even have a dining tent.

Tomorrow is a rest day to help our bodies adjust after gaining 3,750 feet of elevation in just 48 hours.

Today we honored Hopecam Child Alexandra. Hopecam gave Alexandra the opportunity to still be a part of her school and to interact with her classmates, even while in treatment. She was still able to preside over the 4-H meetings at her school and not miss out on being the president of the club. She gets to see her friends at school, which gives her a sense of belonging and helps her not to miss out on activities. It gives her back a part of her life when so much has been taken away.

Alexandra told me -“Len, my favorite animal is a snow leopard, and some live in the mountain habitat of Mt. Everest. Hopefully, you will see one. Thank you for the Hopecam program and for honoring all the kids on this journey to climb Mt. Everest.”

Camp 1 Arrival

We made it to Camp 1! We left Base Camp at 2:20 AM and arrived around 11:20 AM—a 9-hour push gaining 2,800 vertical feet. We're now sitting at 20,000 feet.

The Khumbu Icefall is unlike anything else on Earth. Parts of it look like a coral reef, others like a snow witch’s sculpture garden. Just when you think you’ve made it through the obstacle course, you're faced with 8–9 rolling hills of ice—each about 30 feet high—right before camp.

When we arrived, tents and kitchen gear were already set up for us, which was a huge relief. Everyone was completely exhausted. I was a wreck—my pulse ox had dropped to 75 and my heart rate was at 100. By 6:30 PM, I was doing better: pulse ox back to 80 and heart rate in the high 80s.

Tonight, I’m sharing a tent with Matt Bond. We’ve got breakfast at 6:30 AM, and then we pack up and head for Camp 2. The Khumbu is as mentally demanding as it is physical—it really messes with your head.

I’ll share photos and videos from Camp 1 once I’m back on the grid.

Today we honored Ari, a Hopecam kid born in Brisbane, Australia and now living in Houston, who dreams of becoming a rocket engineer. I’ve actually been to Brisbane—visiting a friend I met while climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. It’s amazing how these connections come full circle. Ari told me “Thank You Len for the Chromebook I use at school!”

Meet the Team: Everest 2025

Today we stretched our legs with a 1.5 Mile walk from Base Camp to the entry rock, marking the start of Everest Base Camp.

As we rest and wait for a clear weather window to begin our first rotation to Camp One, I’d like to introduce the extraordinary group of climbers I have the privilege of sharing this journey with: (left to right) 

Ryan Waters, Matt Bond, Jason Wang and Grace Chen

Ryan Waters – Our guide for the Everest summit, Ryan is a world-renowned mountaineer, author, photographer, and explorer. He made history as the first American to complete the Adventurers Grand Slam (7 summits + unsupported ski expeditions to the North and South Poles from land). I first met Ryan in 2019 while training for the poles and later joined him to complete the South Pole Last Degree Expedition, skiing 60 nautical miles from 89° to 90° South in Antarctica.

Matt Bond – Based in Boston, Matt is climbing his fourth of the seven summits. He holds a PhD in Public Policy, works with the CDC, and brings Northeast grit to the mountain—alongside unwavering loyalty to the Philadelphia Eagles.

Jason Wang – Hailing from San Francisco, Jason is an accomplished entrepreneur and full-time traveler. He’s climbing Everest as his seventh summit, and with 178 countries under his belt, he’s closing in on the “Ultimate Explorers Grand Slam.”

Grace Chen – Also from San Francisco, Grace is a former dentist turned adventurer. Like Jason, Everest will be her seventh summit. She’s visited 176 countries—hot on Jason’s heels—and is also pursuing the Ultimate Explorers Grand Slam: all 193 UN countries, the 7 summits, and last degree expeditions to both the North and South Poles.

An amazing group—each with their own story, strength, and purpose on the mountain.