Last year, my team members and I were intent on climbing to the summit of the world’s highest mountain, hoisting a flag depicting the U.S. Navy SEAL’s trident, and raising $250,000 in donations from the general public for the Navy SEAL Warrior Fund. Despite a fear of heights, a lack of climbing experience, and a livelong devotion to chocolate products -particularly Reese’s Pieces-, I became the world’s first watchmaker to reach the summit of Mount Everest; my friend, Sir Ranulph Fiennes, became the first man to reach the North Pole, South Pole, and Everest via surface travel (that means he didn’t just fly there); and our guide, Kenton Cool, reached the summit for the seventh time, making him the #1 European to do so. Together with our amazing lead Sherpa, Ang Namgel, we raised the flag at 6:00 AM Nepal time, May 21st, 2009. At 67, Ran Fiennes is now enjoying free bus passes in his native England, the SEAL’s flag hangs proudly in the entrance of the SEAL’s high command in Coronado, California, and Ang Namgel Sherpa wears a Kobold watch -part of his bonus for getting us to the summit- on a wrist that is much too small for the oversized timekeeper. Mission accomplished. Almost.

Despite our best efforts and highly successful climb (most climbers don’t reach the summit of Everest on their first attempt), as well as a global audience of several million, we were unsuccessful in raising the $250,000 for the Navy SEAL Warrior Fund. When I returned to the States and spoke with Deeron J. Haley, treasurer of the fund, only about $15,000 had been raised. I was in a state of shock. While our sponsors collectively paid several hundred thousand dollars to make the expedition possible, “mom and pop” reading their hometown newspaper or watching us on PBS, ABC, the BBC or any other channel, had let us down. The costs to my own company had been over $50,000, so in hindsight, it would have been more effective if we hadn’t gone on the expedition in the first place, and just written checks to the fund.

I, for one, would have much preferred this, as it is neither fun nor safe to climb any peak in the Himalaya, at least not for a chubby watchmaker like myself. My wife, Anita, on the other hand is a highly talented and world-renowned mountaineer who actually enjoys climbing mountains. It was her idea that we should regroup, make another attempt on the summit of Mt. Everest, but this time without the use of supplemental oxygen. Perhaps, she argued, this added risk might compel those watching our progress from afar (i.e. via this blog or via the news) to be less tight-fisted and in turn make generous donations to the fund that provides for the families of wounded and fallen Navy SEALs.

To my considerable surprise, Ran Fiennes, with whom I have had the pleasure of living through many hair-raising adventures, explained that it was far too dangerous an undertaking and that the would not even be willing to climb from Base Camp through the Khumbu ice fall to Camp I. “Most deaths occur in the ice fall, young Mike,” lectured the intrepid explorer, “and I’m not sure that climbing without supplemental oxygen is any less dangerous.” Ran did offer to write a nice check to the fund, which was kind but not the $235,000 we’d been looking to raise. On to Kenton. With a baby on the way, he and his wife, Jazz, could not be relied on to write a $235,000 check either, but Kenton said he’d be happy to support the expedition in whatever way he can.

Fast forward to April 2010. After convincing almost all of last year’s corporate sponsors to underwrite the costs of the expedition (that’s the actual costs of logistics, flights, foods, climbing permits, gear, etc. and not the money for the Navy SEAL Warrior Fund), we were whisked by Thai Airways to Bangkok and onto Kathmandu. Luckily, we were put up in first class and managed to convince not only our fellow passenger (there was only one fellow seated in that section) but also our air hostesses and purser to make donations to the fund. Thai Airways takes undertakings such as this seriously -unlike the American and European carriers, who turned us down for any free flights at all- and made a big deal about the fact that a group of Everest summitters were aboard their 747 service to Bangkok. One of their pilots even invited us out for dinner with some of his friends, in the hopes that he could persuade them to make donations also.

We are now back at Everest Base Camp, having already completed the first series of acclimatization climbs, all the way up to Camp I (6,100 m. / 20,100 ft.). Since I already wrote about this part of the expedition last year, I decided to begin writing now, on the eve of our climb up to Camp II and then on to Camp III. Unlike last year, we will spend almost a week at those camps, after which a more serious acclimatization climb to Camp IV is in order, this being an expedition that will hopefully put at least one team member on the summit without the aid of oxygen coming from cylinders.

The mountain is as dangerous as ever. Three climbers have already been air-lifted out of Base Camp, the helicopter landing and take-off maneuver itself being a highly dangerous undertaking at this altitude, where the rotor blades strain to lift up in the thin air. Base Camp has seen many helicopter crashes, so whenever one of these hulking machines lands nearby, we take cover behind a big rock, while the new, less experienced climbers and trekkers (aka tourists) mingle as closely as possible in order to snap nice photographs.

An update will follow as soon as we reach Base Camp again, most likely on April 28th. If you wish to make an online donation to the Navy SEAL Warrior Fund, please visit their website at www.sealfund.org. If you send more than $235,000, please do tell us so that we can stop the expedition and go home.