Ryan and I switched from our mountaineering boots to approach shoes for the hike toward Thame and as we walked the snow turned to glacier scoured rock. Eventually, a trail emerged and we wound down another large scree field to a small hill. From there the trail leveled out slightly and we began to notice grass and flowers as well as the sweet smell of soil and thick air.

Our nerves had been stretched so wire-thin for nearly three weeks dealing with hauling, gear, making camps, and climbing that the simple act of walking on a well-worn path provided infinite relaxation.

But this is a story that is supposed to be about our summit of Jabou Ri...

After our second failed attempt at the south ridge, Ryan had scrambled up the moraine from our advanced base camp to scout a possible ascent of the north east face. While I was worn out and exhausted, I was excited at the possibility of summiting. We would go back to base camp rest for 24 hours and try again.

The next afternoon it snowed and was generally whiteout, yet we still prepared for a midnight wake up and one am departure. I didn't sleep at all.

Hiking towards our advanced base camp in the dark, I felt sluggish and nauseous. I didn't feel good. When we arrived at our MSR small tent, I confronted Ryan with my concerns: we had not thoroughly scouted the route to the glacier and I didn't want to be wandering around in the dark trying to find a safe route. While our time was running out, I felt it might be more prudent spend the day (when it got light out) moving our advanced base camp higher up the mountain while also doing some additional scouting.

Ryan's reply was simple and to the point, 'it's bluebird.' He was right. The sky was clear and calm. I felt terrible and weak and at one point tried to make myself throw up in the hopes that it would make me feel better. It didn't. I knew that I had to just keep moving and hope for the best. I knew I could probably make the summit but I was worried if I would have enough energy for the down climb. Additionally (which I told Ryan later) I worried that Ryan's drive to reach the top might affect how we were making decisions. Of course, Ryan is one of the most careful and contentious climbers I know.

We continued through the moraine to the glacier winding over the rocks and ice looking for access to a potential route that would get us to the Glacier on Jabou Ri. We traversed past the main valley at one point down climbing a steep ice face with our crampons and ice axes. Keep in mind this is all still in the dark. Eventually, we reached the northern lateral moraine and headed up toward the glacier. The rocks here were huge and tippy and we were both concerned about causing a landslide or getting pinned by a large rock.

Finally, we got to edge of the glacier and took a break. I was stilled lagging but my energy seemed to be getting better. I remember when I used to race sled dogs that my toughest times were always between 3 am and 6 am. Tired and cold, it was often hard to keep my eyes open while driving the team. Once the sun rose, however, I was generally 'good' for the next 24 hours or so. Today, I was hoping would be similar.

We stopped briefly to drink some water and eat a few Skratch energy chews. We put on our crampons, harnesses and roped up for the rest of the climb on ice. Taking my first steps onto the glacier, I was relieved that the snow conditions were nearly perfect - about six inches of firm snow on top of the ice.

With Ryan in the lead we climbed slowly up the glacier hopping over a few obvious crevasses. As the sky lightened, I could start to see the route that Ryan had scouted the day before. Compared with the hair raising ridge line that we had been attempting previously, this route seemed relatively straightforward. A while later we stopped to consult the map. We needed to confirm, which point was the peak of Jabou Ri. We aimed for a triangular peak but once we got a little higher, we realized that this was just a sub peak and the true summit was a hump 200 meters or so higher. Still, our moods couldn't be dampened. The climbing on this route was very not technical and we simply kicked our way up step after step.

The sun was shining now and the conditions were perfect. The entire valley was brightening and we could even see Mount Everest in the distance. We stopped again to take a few pictures and get out our second tool as we neared the summit. By this time, I felt nearly full strength. Even though we were nearing over 20,000 feet, the altitude did not affect us, having been nearly as high on our previous attempt.

After a few more vertical steps up a cornice, we were at the top. One of the things that always concerns me about summiting any peak is the actual size of the summit; however, Jabou Ri's summit was a wide flat expanse roughly 20 meters in diameter. We were both ecstatic and relieved.

It was so warm and cal that we casually took pictures and made a few phone calls on the Iridium Go. The view from the top was truly incredible.

After nearly a half hour, we started down climbing and quickly reached the moraine where we gladly unroped. It took nearly another hour to reach our advance base camp but our rest was short-lived. We still needed to pack up all our gear from here and relay it across the glacier to the base of the Tashe Lapsa pass. Our packs strained with the additional weight and our tired legs wobbled underneath us as we once more picked our way through unstable rocks and ice.

'I'm going to go on vacation in Kansas,' I announced to Ryan after we were finally able to stash our loads. 'Some place where it is completely flat!'

By this time it was snowing hard and we still needed to hike another hour you our base camp. I put on my Helly Hansen shell pants and jacket and leaned into the wind for the remainder of the slog. Finally, we arrived back at base camp, roughly 16 hours after we left, tired and snow covered and more relieved than rejoicefull after completing the first ever ascent of the Himalayan peak, Jabou Ri.