Mount Everest is a graveyard. You probably knew that already. But the story of David Sharp isn't just about another body on a mountain. It’s the story that changed how we look at the "Death Zone" forever. Honestly, it’s a mess of ethics, ambition, and the terrifying reality of what happens to the human brain when it's starving for air.
The Man in the Cave
On May 15, 2006, David Sharp was dying. He was huddled in a small limestone alcove on the Northeast Ridge, roughly 8,500 meters up. This spot is infamously known as "Green Boots Cave." Why? Because for years, the frozen body of an Indian climber—nicknamed Green Boots—had been curled up there, serving as a grim waypoint for everyone heading to the summit.
Sharp was 34. He was an experienced climber, a British engineer who had tried Everest twice before. This time, he went solo. He didn't have a Sherpa. He didn't have a radio. He had just two bottles of oxygen, which is barely enough to keep a bird alive at that altitude, let alone a man pushing for the peak.
He was basically alone in the dark.
The Controversy: 40 People Passed Him
This is the part that still makes people's blood boil. As the sun began to rise on May 15, dozens of climbers moving toward the summit saw David Sharp. He was still alive.
Some thought he was already dead. Others thought he was just another landmark.
Mark Inglis and the "Call" to Base Camp
Mark Inglis, a New Zealander who was making history as the first double amputee to summit Everest, was part of a commercial team led by Russell Brice. His group found Sharp in the early hours of the morning. According to early reports, they radioed down to Brice at Base Camp.
📖 Related: Food in Kerala India: What Most People Get Wrong About God's Own Kitchen
The word back? There was nothing they could do. Sharp was too far gone.
Inglis later faced a firestorm of criticism. Sir Edmund Hillary, the man who first conquered Everest in 1953, was absolutely disgusted. He famously said, "On our expedition, there was never any likelihood whatsoever that if one member of the party was in trouble, we would leave him."
Hillary believed the "philosophy" of climbing had become horrifying. It was all about the summit now. Human life had become secondary to a $60,000 ticket to the top.
Was he really "too far gone"?
It’s easy to judge from a couch in London or New York. At 28,000 feet, your brain is literally rotting. Your blood is like sludge.
When Sherpas eventually tried to help Sharp later that morning, they found his legs "like wood." His face was black with frostbite. He could barely mutter his own name. "My name is David Sharp," he reportedly told a Sherpa. "I'm with Asian Trekking, and I just want to sleep."
You’ve got to understand: a rescue at that height isn't just a walk in the park. It takes 10 to 15 fresh Sherpas to move one unconscious man down the Northeast Ridge. It’s a suicide mission.
👉 See also: Taking the Ferry to Williamsburg Brooklyn: What Most People Get Wrong
Why David Sharp Mount Everest Still Matters
The reason we still talk about David Sharp is because of what happened just ten days later.
Lincoln Hall, an Australian climber, was left for dead on the same ridge. His Sherpas had spent hours trying to save him before they were ordered to leave him to save themselves. Hall spent the night in the Death Zone without oxygen or a tent.
The next morning, Dan Mazur found him. Hall was sitting up, cross-legged, changing his shirt. He was alive. Mazur and his team gave up their summit bid immediately to save him. They stayed with him. They got him down.
Hall survived. Sharp did not.
This contrast is what haunts the mountaineering world. If Hall could be saved, why wasn't Sharp?
- Hall had a team. He had people looking for him.
- Sharp was a "ghost." Nobody knew he was even up there because he was climbing solo without a radio.
- Visibility matters. Hall was found in the daylight; Sharp was passed in the freezing darkness of the early morning.
The Cold Reality of Solo Climbing
David Sharp was a "budget" climber. He paid about $7,000 for a basic permit and logistics. Compare that to the $65,000+ people pay for "luxury" expeditions today. He wanted to do it on his own terms.
✨ Don't miss: Lava Beds National Monument: What Most People Get Wrong About California's Volcanic Underworld
He had lost toes to frostbite on previous attempts. He knew the risks. He even told his mother not to worry because there were "climbers everywhere."
Ironically, that’s exactly what killed him. The presence of so many other people created a "bystander effect." Everyone assumed someone else—someone more equipped, someone with more oxygen—would handle it.
Or they just assumed he was already a corpse.
What we can learn from the David Sharp case
If you're ever planning on tackling a "big" mountain, or even just venturing into extreme environments, the David Sharp tragedy offers some brutal, actionable lessons:
- Self-sufficiency is a myth. In the Death Zone, you aren't an island. If you don't have a communication line (a radio or satellite phone), you are effectively invisible.
- The "Turnaround Time" is law. Sharp likely summited very late in the day. On Everest, if you aren't heading down by 2:00 PM, you’re flirting with a death sentence.
- Oxygen is life. Attempting Everest with only two bottles is like trying to drive across the Sahara with a gallon of gas. It's not "purist"; it's reckless.
- Ethics are heavy. Before you go, you have to decide: what is your life worth? What is someone else's worth? You won't be able to make a moral decision when your brain is oxygen-starved at 8,500 meters. You have to decide at Base Camp.
David Sharp’s body remained in that cave for a year. Eventually, at the request of his family, Sherpas moved him. They moved him away from the main trail, respectfully "burying" him in the snow or pushing him off the ridge into the North Face. He's still there. He’s part of the mountain now.
Next time you see a photo of the "traffic jam" on Everest, think of David Sharp. The mountain hasn't changed, but maybe our conscience should.
Next Steps for Deep Exploration:
To truly grasp the ethics of high-altitude climbing, you should read the book Dark Summit by Nick Heil. It provides a granular, minute-by-minute account of the 2006 season. Additionally, researching the "Lincoln Hall rescue" offers the necessary counter-perspective to the Sharp tragedy, showing exactly what a successful high-altitude rescue requires in terms of manpower and luck.