I repeatedly warned him that Everest wouldn’t treat him with mercy because of his visual impairment.
He also stepped up his physical training, getting up at 6 a.m. for rope-skipping, running, and push-up sessions. He was now pounding up and down the 12-story stairwell in his building with up to 35 kilograms of gear on his back.
The COVID-19 pandemic put Zhang’s plans on hold for an entire year. But in March, climbing at Everest finally resumed and Zhang boarded a flight from the southern Chinese city of Guangzhou to Kathmandu, Nepal.
“It was only then that I felt climbing Everest was becoming a reality, rather than a rallying cry,” Zhang recalls.
Once they had arrived in the Himalayas, the real work began. The team started with a nine-day hike to reach the Everest base camp, followed by a practice expedition along the Khumbu Glacier — one of the most dangerous sections of the South Col route to Everest’s summit.
Qiangzi used this time to prepare Zhang as best he could for the task ahead. Because of his blindness, Zhang had no way of anticipating danger in the Himalayas, where the terrain is always changing and icefalls can occur at any moment. The guide made sure his charge understood that his previous training would count for little once the expedition began.
“I repeatedly warned him that Everest wouldn’t treat him with mercy because of his visual impairment,” says Qiangzi.
Besides mastering essential mountaineering skills like abseiling, Zhang also practiced emergency first aid. But most of all, he learned to follow Qiangzi’s instructions with absolute precision.
On the mountain, Qiangzi had to guide Zhang literally step by step — telling him how long a stride to take, in which direction, and alerting him to any potential hazards that lay ahead. Yet even this often wasn’t enough — and Zhang fell too frequently for comfort. Qiangzi had to provide him with a pair of knee pads to help him avoid getting injured.
“Stepping on a flat floor at home is nothing like walking on the ground outside,” says Zhang, “Everest, with its irregular terrain of icy cliffs and crevices, is another thing altogether.”
As the stress from the training mounted, conflict began to erupt between Qiangzi and Zhang. “I was very strict with him, and sometimes I became impatient when I thought he was being too slow,” says Qiangzi.
The arguments only stopped after Qiangzi took a team member’s advice: He tried hiking near the base camp while wearing a blindfold. The experience made Qiangzi more sensitive to the challenges Zhang was facing, and he learned to contain his frustration a little better.
Zhang, meanwhile, was mentally preparing himself for the peril that lay ahead. A few days before leaving China, he’d had a sobering moment when he was asked to sign a series of waivers confirming that he accepted the risks associated with climbing Everest.
“The document asked how they should dispose of my body in the case of an accident,” says Zhang. “I chose to have my body buried under the mountain.”
Throughout his training, Zhang’s wife had been supportive of his ambition, as she understood that it was deeply meaningful to him. But Zhang knew she was fearful for his safety. As the expedition began, Zhang deliberately kept contact with his family to a minimum — especially when poor weather forced the team to push back their departure for the summit by four days.
“If I’d told my wife everything, it just would have increased the mental strain on her,” says Zhang. “I had to bear all the risks myself. The only thing I’d tell her was that I was safe.”
On May 20, the team — accompanied by three Sherpas — set out for the summit. They began by passing through the Khumbu Glacier, before stopping at four camps along the route, where they were able to rest and resupply. During the ascent, Zhang insisted on doing everything himself — only accepting help when absolutely necessary.
“The guides only needed 20 seconds to tie a climbing knot, whereas it might take me a few minutes,” says Zhang. “But as long as our safety and schedule weren’t compromised, I did it by myself. It was my own experience.”
After three days of climbing, the team began their final ascent toward the summit at 9 p.m. on May 23. Strong winds forced them to pick their way slowly. Zhang had to concentrate intensely on every step. Qiangzi’s voice became hoarse from shouting in the freezing conditions.
Then, at 8,700 meters — just 150 meters below the summit — Qiangzi realized the team was running out of oxygen. Someone would have to turn back, to ensure the rest of the team could make it to the top safely. And the guide knew that person had to be him.
I was surrounded by the horrible sounds of icefalls. It was nature warning me that Mount Everest is totally different from other mountains.
“When I heard from Qiangzi that he would give up the ascent to leave enough oxygen for me, I was so terrified,” says Zhang. “I told him if he wasn’t going up, neither would I. But he persuaded me that he still had plenty more chances to make the ascent in the future, whereas this might be my only opportunity.”
With the wind howling, there wasn’t time for arguments. Qiangzi gave Zhang a final push, and Zhang marched on.
“I promised Zhang’s family that I would take him to the summit safe and sound,” says Qiangzi. “I couldn’t accompany him there, but at least this decision ensured his safety.”
Once Qiangzi had left, the ascent became even more challenging. Zhang, who couldn’t speak English, struggled to communicate with the Sherpas. The instructions narrowed down to one word: “Up.”
“I was surrounded by the horrible sounds of icefalls,” says Zhang. “It was nature warning me that Mount Everest is totally different from other mountains.”
But four hours later, Zhang at last felt the terrain under his feet flatten out. The Sherpas rushed to hug him, guiding his alpenstock to feel the ground around him. “Here’s the summit!” they shouted.
Numb with cold and fear, Zhang stayed on the peak for only a few minutes, before gesturing to the team and starting the long journey back down the mountainside. In hindsight, he regrets not being able to savor the moment, but he had other priorities at the time, he says.
“It was only when I got back to the base camp safely that my trip to conquer Everest could be called a complete success,” Zhang says.
Though the expedition is over, Zhang says his adventure is just beginning. He’s determined to continue pushing himself, hoping his feats can inspire blind people around the world.
Over the past few months, the mountaineer has been studying English so he can communicate with people outside China. In the future, he hopes to climb the rest of the world’s tallest mountains and set foot on the North and South Poles.
“If you have a goal in your mind, don’t hesitate — just go for it,” says Zhang. “It’s impossible for people to see what will happen tomorrow, so why not have a try?”
