Feats on film

Whitefish cinematographer is part of the team while documenting Everest treks

Hope fought reality five miles above sea level and a third of a mile below Mount Everest's summit.

But the mountainside was an avalanche waiting to happen.

The slope was 45 degrees.

The top 18 inches of snow was hard-packed.

Beneath that layer were small round crystals that looked like ball bearings - a perfect surface for the top hard snow, dubbed a "wind slab," to slide on.

A boot hitting a crack the wrong way would send thousands of tons of snow down the slope.

"The sense of unease of a while ago had become a feeling of impending doom. A slip here in this dark and dangerous place would result in nearly seven thousand feet of unimpeded descent. … Here, high on the loftiest mountain of them all, there was absolutely nothing we could do to even slightly alleviate the circumstances," climber Guy Homan wrote on the expedition's blog.

Homan's voice came over the radio May 21 at the base camp at 18,000 feet in elevation: "Bit of bad news, mate. We've run into some wind slab and it's going to be far too dangerous for us to progress any further. No way 'round it I'm afraid."

The four British climbers and two Sherpas returned to the base camp where the expedition's leader Dave Bunting had to make a decision - try again or give up.

This was a British Army expedition that spent three years preparing to get two to four people up Mount Everest's 29,035-foot summit by its hardest route - the Western Ridge. Only 13 people have successfully summitted by this route.

David Rasmussen of rural Whitefish was the group's token American. He was the expedition's upper-altitude cinematographer.

The expedition had three cameramen, but Rasmussen did most of the work above Everest's Western Ridge base camp.

He watched Bunting talk one-on-one with key expedition members. Then he gathered the whole group, 21 soldiers and ex-soldiers, plus Sherpas and a film crew. Rasmussen and the other two cameramen filmed the session - because that was what they were there for.

Rasmussen recalled the gist of Bunting announcing his decision to the group: "If we go further, someone will die, and I won't have that on my conscience."

"Everyone was absolutely still. People's hearts sank," Rasmussen remembered. "For them, it was a huge disappointment. Their hopes and dreams were smashed at that point."

Then the group broke out some booze, which it was saving to celebrate a summitting.

"They had a big ol' party to drown their sorrows," Rasmussen said.

Rasmussen was OK with the no-go decision because it reflected a concern for safety over glory. And he was to head home after being separated from his wife, Margie, and three sons for almost three months.

This was Rasmussen's second trip as a cinematographer up Mount Everest. He accompanied an Italian group climbing an easier route in 2003 that put a woman and a Sherpa on top. Rasmussen recorded that trip, accompanying it to roughly 24,500 feet in altitude.

Rasmussen, 48, specializes in outdoor cinematography, having filmed in the Northwest, the Southwest, the Arctic and a stint at the base camp of Pakistan's K2, the world's second-tallest mountain. His favorite assignments were with Sir David Attenborough, a famous British broadcaster who has done extensive work on natural history topics.

Last year, PCI Fitch, which produces films for the British army, contacted and interviewed Rasmussen to be the cinematographer on a British attempt to climb Mount Everest by its Chinese-side Western Ridge - which is the most difficult route to the top.

This Everest expedition was part training exercise, party publicity stunt and part high-altitude medical research project.

PCI Fitch wanted a cinematographer capable of working in tough mountains who can also spot a story unfolding in front of him and film it.

The army sent three expeditions of various skill levels to climb different peaks in the Himalayas. Rasmussen went with the most-advanced team, which would tackle Everest.

Rasmussen first connected with the expedition last November at a training exercise in Wales.

"They were a good, strong team," he said.

PCI Pitch hooked Rasmussen with a former British Special Forces soldier, Dave Pearce. Pearce's job was to help Rasmussen, and to look after him on the mountainside when he was filming so Rasmussen could concentrate on his job.

Rasmussen, Pearce and their Sherpa were the only ones in the film crew to routinely go above the base camp.

In late March, the team reached a semi-permanent base camp - Camp 1 - at about 18,000 feet.

"When we arrived, the whole top of the mountain was bare. Then we got snowstorm after snowstorm after snowstorm," Rasmussen said.

The expedition constantly went up and down the mountain to set up four camps and safety lines above the base camp. The uppermost camp - Camp 5 - could hold six people at roughly 26,400 feet above sea elevation. This was the jump-off point for the final assault on the summit. The summit team reached a few hundred feet higher before it had to turn around.

Rasmussen made it up to Camp 4, which was 25,100 feet above sea level. Camp 2 was the trickiest, with Rasmussen's tent two feet from a cliff.

Breaking trails and carrying equipment up to Camps 2, 3, 4, and 5 was hard work.

The slopes were steep and icy. One stretch was a long horizontal traverse along a slope, with the climbers hanging on by their cramponed toes.

Rasmussen was among the first climbers to reach the sites of Camps 2, 3, and 4 before they were set up. A couple of times, he was the uppermost climber, filming downward at the lead climber.

Occasionally, Rasmussen would have to leave the safety ropes so he could film climbers passing by.

Since he was enduring the climbing hardships and was also among the first people to reach a new camp site, the other team members quickly accepted him.

Part of Rasmussen's job was to ask questions of climbers. Not once did anyone act like he was intruding.

Rasmussen ruefully noted that some of the best shots came from film amateurs - the climbers themselves.

Climbers sometimes carried digital cameras capable of recording 30 to 60 seconds of video.

One man activated his camera as he climbed an ice cliff to record his huffing and puffing and gasping commentary.

Another climber fell unhurt into a deep hole. The first thing he did was turn on his camera and announce on the soundtrack: "I just fell into a hole."

Rasmussen's favorite shot came when he was above some climbers, filming down. The lead climber in that group fell into a hole. Rasmussen kept filming.

"A hand came up. Then an ax came up, and he pulled himself out," Rasmussen said.

He is not sure how the film will be edited. It could be a series of short films or a 90-minute movie.

Right now, Rasmussen is resting at home, waiting for his next job to materialize.

"Maybe something with beaches and trees."

Reporter John Stang may be reached at 758-4429 or by e-mail at jstang@dailyinterlake.com