Mount Everest’s Waste Crisis: The Real Summit Sucks
Ever wanted a “green” adventure? At the base, you’ll find a nasty recycler nightmare—the high‑altitude version of a dumpster fire. Every year, more and more climbers ignore the mountain’s trash bill and pile on the clutter. The result? A nearly 9,000‑meter summit on a landfill.
What’s Packing Up the Peak?
Picture this: fluorescent tents that are brighter than a traffic light, abandoned climbing gear, half‑used gas canisters, and——yes—human feces. All of this lines the route that’s seen 600 summit attempts just this year alone.
Bandit Sherpa Brings the Real Talk
“It’s a total eyesore,” said Pemba Dorje Sherpa, who’s nicknamed Everest’s Grizzly: 18 summits, no problem! He’s seen the mountain swelling with tonnes of waste and didn’t hesitate to call it out.
Glacier Meltdown: Trash in the Spotlight
Global warming is acting like a giant leaf blower—shifting the ice and revealing trash that’d been buried for the last 65 years since Hillary and Tenzing made their historic climb. No one’s laughing about it, but the visual impact is undeniable.
What Nepal and Tibet Are Doing
- New rule (5 years in): each team must pay a $4,000 deposit that gets refunded if everyone removes at least 8 kg of rubbish.
- Tibet’s twist: they must dump the same amount out of the hut, and if they fail, a $100 fine per kilogram hits the wallet.
Because let’s face it—cleaning Everest at 8,848 m is no easy DIY. But the mountain itself can’t keep pushing the jettisoned gear uphill; it’s leveling out.
Bottom Line
Everest is under less trash than any other global tech demo. Thanks to a mix of stricter rules and the relentless ticking clock of climate change, there’s hope (and a plea) to bring the waste pile back down. Until then, all you can do is smile between the crampon crunch and the looming waste pile.
Everest’s Trash Craze: A Not-So-Serious Look at the Mountaintop Dump
Ever fired up your passion for the world’s highest peak, and in the process dumped a ton of garbage on the slopes? Well, strap in, because the Sagarmatha Pollution Control Committee (SPCC) has some eye‑popping stats to keep you laughing (and wincing).
2017: The “Three Double‑Deckers” Incident
- Almost 25 tons of trash carried down – that’s roughly the weight of three double‑deckers.
- Another 15 tons of human waste sneaked down, too.
- Only half the climbers actually fetched the required loads back.
That era was a soft breeze. But the current season? Even more trash has landed on the slopes, yet it’s still just the tip of the iceberg. The real problem is that most adventure seekers are opt‑out on their deposit – it’s a tiny drop in the ocean compared to the $20,000–$100,000 they splurge on the climb.
Bribes, Laziness, and Lacking Surveillance
Enter Pemba, who’s seen it all. He says many climbers are either just indifferent or so tallied up their own “waste of waste” in moderation that they forget to tidy up. He also notes that a handful of officials are willing to accept small slush payments in exchange for turning a blind eye. In other words, the mountain’s watching? Not really.
More People, More Inexperience, More Trash
The climbing boom over the last twenty‑years has not made Everest any less crowded. Those who think “cheap is better” are mercilessly dragging in inexperienced climbers who brew even more litter.
Meet Danny Benegas and his twin Willie, who’ve trudged it for more than two decades. Their take? Sherpas, the local high‑altitude guides and workers, are the unsung heroes carrying all gear: tents, oxygen cylinders, ropes, the works. But then there’s the extra baggage of mine gear – one minute you’re climbing, the next you’re carrying thers’ old trash back down.
- Once upon a time, climbers were a personal kit of extra clothes, food, a sleeping bag, and supplemental oxygen.
- Now, they depend on Sherpas for everything, so nobody has the bandwidth to hand back the garbage.
Benegas cranks his final note: the operators should hire a boom of high‑altitude workers to keep the trail clean.
Raw Sewage on the River
It’s not just waste; it’s raw sewage that has poured into the valleys below. Base‑Camp swallows that sludge and sends it on a one‑hour trek to the next village, where it’s dumped into trenches.
Garry Porter, a US engineer, says the trick is to flush it downhill, during the monsoon, into the river – classic everybody’s unscrew‑all‑out flow.
Solutions: Biogas and Dedicated Cleanup Teams
Porter and his team are fantasizing about a biogas plant near the base camp that turns climber poo into a useful fertilizer. Meanwhile, Ang Tsering Sherpa, former president of the Nepal Mountaineering Association, has a more grounded plan: a dedicated rubbish collection squad.
His expedition operator, Asian Trekking, has run “Eco Everest Expeditions” for a decade, hauling down over 18 tons of trash plus 8 kilograms of climber quota (the “required” amount).
Last month, a 30‑person cleanup crew swiped up a 8.5 tonne haul from the northern slopes. The Global Times, a state‑run Chinese outlet, reported it.
Ang says: “It’s a no‑easy‑job gig. The government should actually motivate groups to clean up and enforce rules more strictly.”
Final Thoughts
- Everest is no longer just a summit — it’s a dumping ground when people forget to shoulder responsibility.
- With a bit of decent planning, a sprinkle of green tech, and mountains of determination, we can keep the peaks pristine and the bragging rights intact.
- Let’s hope the next Everest expedition remembers to bring a trash‑to‑truck plan.
