Picture this: over a thousand adventurers, caught in a blizzard's icy grip on the roof of the world, Mount Everest, battling knee-deep snow, surviving on instant noodles, and relying on sturdy yaks to escape. It's a tale of resilience and peril that unfolded during a national holiday weekend, reminding us just how unforgiving nature can be. But here's where it gets controversial – were these treks allowed to proceed despite warnings, all for the sake of holiday profits?
The conditions weren't ideal from the start. A light drizzle mixed with chilly winds greeted the group as they gathered on Everest's eastern side, determined to make the most of their long weekend trek. Leading them was 32-year-old guide Shu Wei, who navigated the trail flanked by breathtaking, frozen peaks. Yet, as they progressed, a growing sense of unease settled in. Mountain weather is notoriously fickle and hazardous, but this snowfall escalated into something extraordinary.
'By around 8 p.m., the snow had already piled up to our knees,' Shu recalls. 'And it kept falling relentlessly through the entire night.'
Just a few days into their journey, a ferocious storm descended, pounding Tibet and Nepal with torrential rain and heavy snow. This extreme weather event ensnared more than 1,000 hikers, predominantly from China, triggering massive rescue operations that drew global attention (https://www.theguardian.com/world/2025/oct/06/mount-everest-hikers-describe-extreme-conditions-as-huge-rescue-effort-continues).
After their evening meal, the trekkers retreated to their tents, as recounted by 35-year-old hiker Wu Bin. Despite their efforts to shovel away the accumulating snow, it just kept mounting.
'It built up gradually, inching higher until it nearly reached the windows of my tent,' Wu shares. 'That's when I realized things were turning serious.'
In response, the guides relocated everyone to the communal dining tent, where they kindled fires for warmth and strategized their next moves. Shu briefed the group that they might be stuck for several days, but if conditions improved, they'd attempt a descent the following morning.
'When the guide said we could be trapped, I felt a wave of anxiety,' Wu admits. 'A day or two might be manageable, but anything longer would leave us in limbo, and that unpredictability was really stressful.'
After a night of little sleep, they decided to head down at dawn. The initial part of the trek was solitary, but soon they merged with other fleeing groups, forming a slow-moving procession through the deep snow in the rarified, high-altitude atmosphere.
'About two kilometers in, yaks arrived to break the path ahead, speeding up our progress and helping us exit the mountains sooner,' explains Shu, a seasoned guide with extensive experience on the western Sichuan Plateau.
'En route, we ran into numerous local villagers who pitched in with the rescue. They supplied us with essentials like hot water, food, and beverages. And at the final checkpoint, we were even treated to instant noodles.'
For beginners in mountaineering, it's worth noting that yaks are hardy, domesticated animals native to the Himalayas, often used for carrying loads in such terrains due to their strength and sure-footedness. This kind of community support highlights how local knowledge and resources can be lifesaving in remote areas.
Mountaineering sources pointed out that weather predictions had been available (https://explorersweb.com/about-those-stranded-tourists-near-but-not-on-everest/), with climbing teams on adjacent summits retreating days prior. Local tourism officials had also halted ticket sales and sealed roads for the weekend. Yet, on Chinese social media, debates raged about whether these excursions were permitted to capitalize on the holiday rush. And this is the part most people miss – the tension between economic incentives and safety in adventure tourism.
Coverage of the incident in Chinese news was sparse during the rescue phase. The country's tightly regulated state media tends to downplay negative stories until they're fully resolved, and Tibet – the site of these events – faces even stricter oversight from authorities, creating extra hurdles for open information flow.
By Tuesday, nearly 900 individuals, including 580 trekkers along with 300 yak herders and local guides, had been safely extracted from the area. Many were escorted or made their way to the nearby village of Qudang. The storm also isolated 251 people in Qinghai, just north of Tibet, where tragically, a Taiwanese hiker succumbed to hypothermia and acute mountain sickness – a condition where the body struggles with low oxygen levels at high altitudes, leading to symptoms like headaches, nausea, and in severe cases, organ failure. In Xinjiang, officials persuaded 300 hikers to abandon their plans, though one required hospitalization. Meanwhile, Nepalese officials reported no entrapments on their side of the mountain.
Additional reporting by Lillian Yang
What do you think – does the thrill of adventure justify risking lives, especially when warnings are ignored for business gains? Or should stricter regulations always come first? Share your opinions in the comments below; I'd love to hear differing views!
