Everest is a graveyard. That sounds like a cheap movie line, but if you’re standing at 8,000 meters in the Death Zone, it’s just the reality of the geography. There are roughly 200 to 300 bodies left on Mount Everest, and they aren’t hidden. They are landmarks.
It's weird to think about. You’re climbing the highest peak in the world, pushing your body to the absolute limit, and you have to step over someone who tried to do the exact same thing twenty years ago. People call it the "Green Boots" cave or the "Rainbow Valley" because of the bright neon colors of the down suits that don't decay in the freezing cold. It’s morbid, sure. But it’s also a logistical nightmare that most people back home don’t really grasp.
The mountain doesn't care about your funeral rites. At that altitude, the air is so thin that your brain starts to swell (HACE) and your lungs fill with fluid (HAPE). Carrying a 150-pound frozen body down a sheer ice face is basically a suicide mission for the rescuers. So, the bodies stay.
The Reality of the Death Zone
The Death Zone starts at 8,000 meters. This is where the atmospheric pressure is so low that there isn't enough oxygen for humans to breathe for long. Your cells literally start dying. Most of the bodies left on Mount Everest are concentrated in this narrow window of elevation.
Think about the physical effort of just moving your own legs. Now imagine trying to drag a dead weight that has frozen to the rock. It takes eight Sherpas to move one body. Sometimes they have to chip the person out of the ice with pickaxes. It's brutal work. Often, the families of the deceased want their loved ones brought home, but the cost can exceed $70,000, and there’s no guarantee the recovery team will make it back alive.
Ang Tshering Sherpa, a former president of the Nepal Mountaineering Association, has talked about this quite a bit. He’s noted that because of global warming, the ice is thinning. Bodies that were buried for decades are now popping up like macabre spring flowers. It's changing the landscape of the climb.
Green Boots and the Legend of Tsewang Paljor
Perhaps the most famous "landmark" on the Northeast ridge was "Green Boots." For nearly two decades, almost every climber heading to the summit from the Tibetan side had to pass him. He was curled in a limestone cave, wearing bright green Koflach boots.
Most believe the body was Tsewang Paljor, an Indian climber who died in the 1996 disaster. He was part of a three-man team from the Indo-Tibetan Border Police. They thought they had reached the summit, but they were caught in a horrific blizzard. Paljor took shelter in that cave and never woke up.
For years, he was just a part of the trail. People would mention "Green Boots" in their climb logs like they were talking about a specific rock or a gear cache. It sounds cold, but you have to compartmentalize when you're up there. If you stop to mourn every person you see, you won't have the mental energy to stay alive yourself. Around 2014, the body disappeared—likely moved or buried by Chinese mountaineers to give him some dignity, though nobody really officially took credit for it.
Why Can’t We Just Bring Everyone Down?
You might think, "We have helicopters and advanced tech, why is this still a thing?"
Gravity is a jerk.
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Helicopters struggle to fly at 29,000 feet. The air is too thin for the rotors to get lift. In 2017, some pilots started pushing the limits, but landing a bird on the South Col to pick up a body is still insanely risky. Most recoveries are still done by hand.
The Logistics of a Recovery
- Weight: A frozen body can weigh over 200 pounds because of the ice attached to the clothing.
- Oxygen: Sherpas have to use massive amounts of supplemental oxygen to perform the physical labor of a recovery, which is incredibly expensive.
- Ethics: Is a dead body worth the life of a living Sherpa? Most climbing organizations say no.
Lhakpa Sherpa, who has reached the summit more times than any other woman, has seen the toll this takes. She’s mentioned in various interviews that the mountain is changing. It's not just the bodies; it's the trash, the old tents, and the discarded oxygen bottles. But the bodies left on Mount Everest are the most haunting part of the "highest junkyard in the world."
Rainbow Valley: The Most Colorful Graveyard
Just below the summit, there’s an area called Rainbow Valley. The name sounds cheerful. It isn’t.
It’s named for the bright red, blue, and yellow parkas of the climbers who have fallen or collapsed there. Because the area is so high and the slope is so steep, bodies often slide into this catchment area. They don't decompose. The UV rays and the cold mummify the skin, and the nylon suits stay vibrant for decades.
One of the most famous stories from this area is that of Francys Arsentiev. She was the first American woman to summit Everest without bottled oxygen in 1998. On the way down, she and her husband got separated. Two other climbers, Ian Woodall and Cathy O'Dowd, found her still alive but unable to move. They stayed with her for as long as they could, but they were freezing to death themselves. They eventually had to leave her.
For nine years, Francys—known as the "Sleeping Beauty"—was visible from the path. In 2007, Woodall returned to the mountain specifically to move her body out of sight of the trail, wrapping her in an American flag and dropping her into a lower area of the mountain.
The Mental Toll on the Living
Imagine the psychology of this.
You’ve spent $50,000. You’ve trained for three years. You’re exhausted, your fingers are numb, and you see a body. Honestly, some people just go numb to it. Others have full-blown panic attacks.
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There's a weird sort of "summiter's fog." You’re so focused on the next step that the person lying in the snow doesn't even register as human. They look like a mannequin. It’s only when you get back down to Base Camp and the thick air hits your brain that you realize what you saw.
The 2023 season was one of the deadliest on record, with 18 people losing their lives. With more people on the mountain than ever, the "bottlenecks" at the Hillary Step mean people are standing still for hours next to these remains. It’s a literal queue of the living waiting next to the dead.
Shifting Perspectives and Respect
There is a growing movement to stop treating these people as landmarks. The Nepal government and various expedition groups are trying to be more proactive about "cleaning" the mountain. But "cleaning" is a harsh word for moving a human being.
Some families prefer the bodies to stay. They feel that their loved one died doing what they loved, and the mountain is a fitting tomb. Others are desperate for closure. It’s a messy, emotional, and dangerous debate.
If you're planning on trekking or climbing in the Himalayas, you have to reconcile with this. You aren't just visiting a park. You're visiting a place that is fundamentally hostile to human life.
Practical Realities for Future Climbers
If you are actually looking to head to Nepal, don't just focus on your cardio. Focus on the ethics of the climb.
- Research your operator. Cheap expedition companies often cut corners on Sherpa support and oxygen, which is how more bodies left on Mount Everest end up there. Pay for the extra safety.
- Insurance is non-negotiable. You need specialized high-altitude rescue insurance that specifically covers body recovery. It's a dark thing to buy, but your family will thank you if things go sideways.
- Respect the Sherpas. They are the ones who risk their lives to bring people down—dead or alive. Treat their expertise as law.
- Environmental Impact. It’s not just about the bodies. Pack out your gear. All of it.
The mountain is a beautiful, terrifying place. It’s a monument to human ambition, but the remains scattered across the slopes are a stark reminder that nature doesn't negotiate. When you see those bright colors in the snow, it's a signal. It’s the mountain telling you exactly how high the stakes are.
Before you book a flight to Kathmandu, read the accounts of the 1996 disaster or the 2015 earthquake. Understand the history of the people who stayed behind. It changes how you see the summit. It makes the achievement feel a lot heavier, and maybe, a lot more real.
The next step for anyone serious about this is to look into the Khumbu Pasang Lhamu Rural Municipality regulations. They’ve recently updated the rules on what climbers are required to bring back from the mountain, including new mandates on waste management and tracking chips for climbers. Staying informed on these changing laws is the only way to climb responsibly in 2026.