The Allsop family: Wendy, Dylan, Mike, Ethan and Maya. Photo / Supplied
The Allsop family: Wendy, Dylan, Mike, Ethan and Maya. Photo / Supplied
In what has become a family tradition, Mike Allsop challenges his kids to push their limits — as long as it's safe, has Mum's approval and gives back to others.
Fresh from climbing Mt Everest, Mike Allsop found it hard to adjust back to regular life.
"Going from climbing the world's highest mountain back to my day job and doing normal stuff like getting groceries was quite a challenge."
But the Air New Zealand pilot had a wife and three young children to care for so his priorities had changed.
While eating at his favourite Japanese restaurant Taiko in Kingsland with wife Wendy, talking about their goals and dreams for the future, she said that if he wasn't going to climb Everest again, he needed to do something to "fill the emotional tank".
So he started planning his next trip, this time with a twist. He would trek with his eldest son Ethan, 7, to the 3500m-high village of Namche Bazaar in Nepal, known as "the gateway to Everest" where many climbers go to acclimatise before tackling the mountain.
It was to become a family tradition. When daughter Maya and youngest child Dylan were seven they would do the same.
Allsop and Ethan at seven years old, on his first trip with Dad to see Everest. Photo / Supplied
Years later, at another one of their dinners at Taiko, the couple came up with another tradition for their children for when they turned 14. They would get to pick a challenge to do with their Dad. It had to be outside what they thought was possible so it would push them to the limits, be safe, have Mum's approval and give back to others.
Maya managed to jump the queue and complete her mission at age 12. She had came up with her challenge early and timed it with when her father was heading back to Everest Base Camp to guide a group in 2016.
At Lake Pumori, the world's highest lake, she completed the world's highest stand-up paddle-board. She raised $2000 for the widows of the village of Pangboche, situated up the Everest Valley.
Allsop and Ethan on the top of Kilimanjaro, for Ethan's 14-year-old adventure with dad. Photo / Supplied
Allsop and Ethan playing Guess Who? on top of Kilimanjaro. Photo / Supplied
And last year, Allsop scaled Mt Kilimanjaro with Ethan, aged 15. Ethan was inspired by Maya's world-record and set his own - playing the world's highest board game, this time getting the Guinness World Record people involved. He played two rounds of Guess Who? with his father and the record is being considered.
Ethan, 16, who hopes to become a pilot, raised $1200 for the Auckland City Mission.
Dylan, 13, is dreaming up ideas for his 14-year-old trip with his father, 49.
In the below extract from his new book about his journeys with his children, High Adventure, Allsop shares his paddleboard journey with Maya, now 14.
I'd talked through the possible risks with Dr Ben Johnston [Air NZ's chief medical officer]. He told me he'd just done a course in Norway about how to deal with ice emergencies. Talk about good timing!
Ben went through the best ways to reheat people who have fallen into icy water, just in case. The methods are: in a warm bath (not an option for us!); with warm tea, dry clothes and movement, like doing star jumps or squats (check!); hopping into a sleeping bag with another person for body-to-body heat (note to self: take a sleeping bag); or just movement alone.
I know there are probably people out there who reckon letting a 12-year-old girl go paddleboarding on a freezing lake in the Himalaya is a stupid thing to do, and I was well aware of the criticism I would get if anything went wrong.
There are a lot of naysayers in the world who like to make their opinions known — and loudly. This is just a part of life.
Maya during her 7-year-old adventure to Everest Base Camp with her father Mike. Photo / Supplied
There will always be critics, but if we all focused on what the naysayers might think then no one would ever do anything.
The important thing for me was that Wendy fully supported what we were trying to do. We also had a full safety plan in place, a doctor with expertise in precisely this kind of environment with us, and an amazing team of locals right there too.
If anything went wrong, we were more than equipped to deal with it. Sherpa Nawang had organised a tent for Maya to get changed in, a sleeping bag in case she got wet, and a big thermos of hot tea to help warm her up after she'd been out on the lake. I was also taking a second paddleboard and some ropes in case she needed to be rescued. We had a satellite phone so we could call a helicopter if things got really serious.
I don't think you can be any better prepared than that.
Quite a crew of us gathered to head up to the lake. As well as me, Maya, Dr Ben, Nawang and the Sherpa, a few members of the team decided they'd come too. We all set off across the flat salt lake and up a little track. Not far from Gorak Shep, we found a memorial for Kiwi climber Rob Hall, who was killed on Everest in 1996 trying to save one of his clients.
I had read so much about him and his climbs; he was such a legend and someone I looked up to. He had really inspired me during my climbing days, so I quietly said a little thank you to him as we stood there. As we trekked up towards Lake Pumori, I told Maya all about Rob Hall and how he'd given up his own life to save someone else's, and how after he died he'd been awarded the New Zealand Bravery Star.
As the climb got steeper, Maya started to struggle a bit. She had a bit of a moan about how hard it was. Before I'd even really thought about it, I said, 'Maya, this is getting too hard for you. Perhaps we should go back.'
Maya with a shopkeeper in Namche. One of Allsop's rules was that if the kids wanted to buy something, they had to barter for it themselves. Photo / Supplied
Maya was shocked and I got a real telling-off. "No, Dad! We are not giving up. No!" And then she said it: "Allsops never give up."
Hearing her say that brought a tear to my eye. I was so proud, especially because those words had come out so naturally in the heat of adversity. I looked at her and said, "You're right. Let's do this!"
By this time, there wasn't a track to follow, so we were making our own way over a moraine, which is a whole lot of loose rocks and boulders left behind by a glacier. I'm always nervous on moraines because one of my early mentors, Paul Scaife, told me that they are very dangerous and a lot of people get killed on them from shifting and falling rocks.
I looked around and it seemed so harmless. Nawang, Maya and I were trekking together as the rest of the team had gone on ahead and were over the next ridge and out of sight. As the boulders we were climbing over got bigger, I told Maya to either stick next to me or Nawang.
I also told Nawang that I didn't like moraines, so he agreed to stay close to Maya as well.
We got to a spot where we had to climb up and over some rocks that were about six metres high. If we were rockhopping at the beach at home, I wouldn't think twice about doing this sort of thing, but this was different.
I told Nawang that I'd go first and that he and Maya should stay at the bottom until I was safely at the top. As I started to climb, it all felt solid and there was no movement at all in the rocks. As I passed a huge rock the size of a car, I put my hand on it to push myself up. The next rock I grabbed felt solid but, as I pushed, it gave away and slid down into the huge rock I'd just passed. The big rock started to move as well. There was a deafening, low-pitched roar as it started to slide—and I knew Maya and Nawang were right below it. S***!
I looked back and Maya was standing there, stunned.
Nawang grabbed her and pulled her out of the way as this boulder of solid granite hit exactly where they had been standing. My heart pretty much stopped. I shouted to them, and Nawang's calm voice came back.
"We're fine, Mike. We're fine." Thank god. I climbed down and hugged Maya.
"Yeah, ah, let's not tell Mum about that one, eh?"
I pointed and said to Maya, "Look! It's not frozen!"
Maya during her 14-year-old adventure (done two years earlier). A moment of celebration for us all as she breaks the record for the world's highest stand-up paddleboard. Photo / Supplied
Maya screamed, "YES!" Then she laughed and said, "You should have gone to Specsavers!" All our disappointment had been the result of a misunderstanding. The guy had actually been shouting 'It isn't frozen!' but because of the wind we hadn't heard him properly.
Maya was absolutely fizzing — so much so that I had to get her to sit down for a bit to calm down. We talked through the excitement of seeing that the lake wasn't frozen, then discussed our plan.
There was a hive of activity by the lake. The Sherpa were putting up the tent, some of the others were inflating the boards and getting Maya's wetsuit ready, and Dr Ben was looking around the lake to work out the best spots for Maya to get in and out.
While Maya was really excited, a little voice in my head had started to make itself known: doubt. "This is very serious. Are you sure you should let her do this?' it said. 'What if she falls in? Remember how you felt when that rock fell. Do you want to go through that again?"
I find when my brain starts doing stuff like that it's good to reach out to someone I trust, so I went over to talk to Dr Ben. I asked him what he thought, and he seemed really positive. He assured me that we had covered every aspect and if Maya fell in she would be OK.
He suggested that Maya put her foot in the water, so her body and brain knew how cold it was. The idea was that it would prevent her body from going into instant shock if she fell in, as her brain would know what to expect. I okayed this, but suggested that she put her hand in because her foot might take too long to warm up. Ben agreed.
I had also planned to do a recce first to see if there was any submerged ice, which could throw Maya off balance if she collided with it.
I couldn't help but think of the time the legendary endurance swimmer Lewis Pugh swam across this very lake in 2010. He was super experienced when it came to swimming in extremely cold water and had done a world-record swim at the North Pole. He'd said that, as he swam out into the lake, he could feel the energy starting to drain from his arms and legs, and that he gradually got slower and slower until he couldn't move his arms or legs and simply began to sink.
He just couldn't move. He reckoned he knew he was going to drown. He took what he was sure was his last breath, then sank to the bottom of the lake. It was at this point he realised it was only about a metre deep and he stood up!
Despite all my fears, I knew that I had to have momentary courage, to be brave for a few seconds and then just encourage Maya to go for it. (Ironically, it would have taken the same momentary courage to decide to pull the pin and say that I didn't think it was safe enough for Maya to go ahead with her attempt.)
"Let's do it!" I said to Ben, then I walked over to the tent to help Maya get ready. The idea was that she'd get into her wetsuit, then we'd tape up the arms, legs and neck, so that if she did fall in she wouldn't get wet.
I was worried about the amount of energy she was expending just putting the wetsuit on, and with how excited she was. In the back of my mind, I knew that after all this we still had to hike for two hours to get back to Gorak Shep.
I looked over to where the Sherpa were pumping up the boards. They were having real trouble getting them inflated. It took me a moment to realise that this was because the pumps were designed for use at sea level. Here at over 5000 metres there was only half the air pressure there is at sea level.
I took over pumping one board up. As I pushed down on the pump, I couldn't feel any air being forced into the board.
Only when I pumped as fast as I could did any air go into the board, but at that altitude I could only work that quickly for a few seconds before I was exhausted.
One of the Sherpa tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Mike, let us do it." The three of them were lined up ready to give it their all.
I was so grateful for their help. There even seemed to be a little competitive streak coming out as they each gave it their all, then collapsed on the dirt for the next one to take over.
It usually takes about five minutes to inflate the boards, but it took 30 minutes. This meant we now had another issue — daylight. We still had the two-hour walk back down the mountain, and I started to worry about what would happen if Maya was too exhausted to walk back.
I was worried about the amount of energy she was expending just putting the wetsuit on. . . I knew that after all this we still had to hike for two hours.
Nawang was concerned about time as well, so I decided not to inflate the rescue board —we just didn't have the time.
Instead, I would take Maya's board and go out on to the lake on my knees to check for submerged ice. Once I was sure it was clear, Maya would then go out and stand up and paddle for the record. I told her to make sure she stayed close to the shore, so that if she fell in she could get back to us easily or, if need be, I could jump in and grab her.
I took the board down to the water. I had my lifejacket on over my clothes and my paddle at the ready. Ben had picked a perfect spot for us to launch, and had cleared all the ice away from the edge of a big flat rock. I threw the board on to the water and it hit with a loud slap. This was it.
I took a deep breath and stepped onto the board and knelt down. The record was for the highest stand-up paddle, not the highest kneel-down paddle, so as long as I didn't stand up and paddle the record was Maya's.
The board wasn't pumped up enough to hold my weight, so it bowed a bit in the middle. Water came over the board and wet my pants and boots. I thought, I'll deal with that later.
I pushed off and slowly paddled out into the middle of the lake. As I looked down at the paddle, I could see a build-up of ice on the blade every time I put it in the water. I couldn't work out why the paddle was freezing but the lake wasn't.
Apparently, that's down to glacier bloom, where sediment from the glacier in the water gives it a unique colour and unusual freezing properties. I knew that meant that, if Maya fell in, she'd be covered in ice.
I kept paddling and turned around to face the team, who were now about 30 metres away. I remembered Lewis Pugh talking about the lake only being a metre deep, so I put my paddle down into the water vertically . . . and it went down and down and down. It's got to stop! I thought. But it didn't. It was a two-metre paddle and it didn't touch the bottom of the lake.
That meant the water would be well over both of our heads. Slowly I paddled back to shore. I was really nervous at the thought of Maya actually standing up and paddling. When I looked over at her, she was completely amped.
I pulled up alongside the rock, hopped off the board and handed the paddle to Maya. There was a bit of thin ice around the edge of the lake and I pointed it out to her. She just wanted to get on the board as soon as possible.
Ben lay down and held one end of the board, and Maya carefully knelt on it. I made a mental note that a rescue line was just behind me. She sat up on her knees and I handed her the paddle. Then it was time.
"OK, Maya, push off." She floated out, clear of the shore ice. My heart was in my mouth.
"OK, Maya, stand up carefully and start paddling slowly . . ."
She sprang up on to her feet and started to paddle. Everyone around clapped and cheered. She had done it! The highest stand-up paddleboard ever on the planet—and she was only 12 years old.
I took a brief moment to look around and take everything in. It was so cool that Maya had set this goal and achieved it.
The chance of failing was huge, but that hadn't stopped her; in fact, it had motivated her even more.
Maya slowly paddled back to shore. I held out my hand as she hopped onto the rock, dry as a bone and with a huge smile from ear to ear. Everyone congratulated her, and she was so happy.
Maya was convinced not to send a joke selfie to her mother with an oxygen mask on. Photo / Supplied
We took a few moments to celebrate, before our thoughts turned to getting back down to Gorak Shep. The team got on to deflating the board, while I took Maya into the tent and helped her get the wetsuit off—a struggle at sea level, let alone at 5000 metres! She managed to get it off fine and I left her in the tent to get dressed.
Moments after she came out of the tent, the Sherpa had it packed down. Nawang gave Maya a mug of hot sweet tea and a bag of trusty popcorn. She was still smiling.
A few minutes later, we were all trekking back up the ridge—and my nerves started to jangle just thinking of having to get back down across the moraine.
I asked Nawang if two Sherpa could hang back with us, in case we had to piggyback Maya. I was worried that she was going to crash as she was on a massive adrenaline buzz and she'd spent so much energy.
As we started up the hill, Maya's energy levels came crashing down. "Dad, I'm really tired."
"I know, Maya. Just go slowly to the top of the ridge and we will rest." Determined, she carried on.
We stopped for a break at the top of the ridge. This turned out to be a bit of a mistake as, from there, we could see all of the ridges we had to cross to get back to Gorak Shep. The light was starting to fade, and I was worried.
Needlessly worried, as it turned out, because as soon as we got up and started downhill Maya perked up and didn't have another problem.
When we got to the top of the last ridge, I gave Nawang my pack and Maya hopped on my back—a good old Dad piggyback at over 5000 metres!
Dylan during his 7-year-old adventure with dad. Photo / Supplied
I lasted all of about five minutes before I had to put Maya down. Nawang motioned to me to take the packs, then he piggybacked her. He lasted 15 minutes, so my effort was just a token!
With a kilometre to go across the flat of the dry lakebed, Nawang decided to hurry back so he could organise dinner.
It was perfect timing, as it left Maya and me to cruise in together. I piggybacked her some more of the way, but after about seven minutes my lungs started screaming, so from there on we just walked together.
When we walked into the tea house, the whole team was there and greeted Maya with applause. She thanked them, then sat down to play cards as if nothing had happened.
I was so proud of her, but she didn't really think anything of it. It was just what we did. She was passionate about this adventure and really wanted to achieve it, so she did. Having that passion was really important as it helped motivate her and keep her on track when the going got tough.
After dinner, Nawang, Maya and I were sitting in my room talking when I got called away. When I returned, I found Maya sitting there with an oxygen mask over her face. I panicked. I'd only been gone a few minutes. What could possibly have gone wrong?
"Oh my god! Are you OK?"
She held her phone out to take a selfie. "Yeah, yeah, Dad. Just sending Mum a photo . . . without any caption." She grinned.
