Unlocking the Centenary Secret: New Book Revisits George Mallory, Sandy Irvine, and the Greatest Mystery in Mountaineering History

Did legendary British climbers George Mallory and Sandy Irvine successfully reach the summit of Mount Everest on June 8, 1924, thereby becoming the first humans ever to conquer the world’s highest peak? More than a century after the pair were last seen “going strong for the top” before disappearing into the mists of the upper mountain, that central question remains the greatest unsolved mystery in the history of mountaineering.

Now, a new literary and historical examination dives headfirst into the enigma. In The Everest Mystery, Julie Summers—Sandy Irvine’s great-niece—alongside Jochen Hemmleb, the world’s leading authority on the 1924 Mallory and Irvine expedition, re-examines the life of the young engineer, his relationship with Mallory, and the countless theories surrounding their fateful final hours. Above all, the work seeks to restore Sandy Irvine to his rightful place in the enduring lore of Everest’s heroic age.

Chapter 1: The Road to the Mother Goddess

“I expect we shall be at the mountain by the time this reaches you. We saw it for the first time yesterday but still nearly 200 miles away. The trek is nearer 400 than 300 miles so there is plenty of time yet.”
— Sandy Irvine to Lilian Irvine, April 12, 1924

In the modern era, public perception of Mount Everest is largely defined by overcommercialization. The internet is frequently flooded with photographs of luxurious base camps and crowded queues of mountaineers inching along narrow, windswept summit ridges. What was once universally regarded as the ultimate test of human endurance and adventurous endeavor has increasingly shifted into a heavily managed consumer product.

Back in 1902, the year of Sandy Irvine’s birth, the global landscape surrounding the mountain was profoundly different. Indigenous populations knew the peak by ancient and reverent titles: Tibetans called it Chomolungma, meaning the “Mother Goddess of the World,” while Nepalese referred to it as Sagarmatha, or the “Head of the Sky.” During the British Great Trigonometrical Survey of India, surveyors mapped the massive peak from regions near the border of Nepal, and in 1856, it was officially declared the highest mountain on Earth. In the absence of localized administrative names at the time, British authorities named it after Sir George Everest, the former Surveyor General of India who had spearheaded survey operations toward the Himalayas.

Yet, these early calculations relied on distant triangulation because the independent kingdom of Nepal remained strictly closed to foreign travelers. From afar, Everest appeared as a relatively unassuming summit hiding behind much more formidable surrounding ranges. No European had laid eyes on the peak or captured it on film from close quarters. That milestone would not arrive until 1903 or 1904, when J. Claude White, then Britain’s political officer in Sikkim, photographed the snow-white pinnacle from the remote Tibetan fortress town of Kampa Dzong, situated ninety-four miles away.

Although local villagers had inhabited the lower Himalayan valleys for centuries, it was not until 1913 that a daring young Indian Army officer, John Baptist Lucius Noel, disguised himself and stole across the border into Tibet. He successfully advanced to within forty miles of Everest, penetrating deeper into the forbidden territory than any European before him. Noel presented the findings and cinematic footage of his clandestine expedition to the Royal Geographical Society (RGS) in London six years later, thrusting the prospect of climbing the mountain to the forefront of British exploration. Alpinists had toyed with the concept since the 1890s, but pre-World War I diplomatic tensions between Britain and Tibet had kept ambitions frozen. Following Noel’s lecture, British explorers and mountaineers were fully galvanized to mount an assault on the planet’s highest elevation. Sir Francis Younghusband, a renowned explorer and leader of the controversial 1904 British military campaign that established a political presence in Tibet, had recently assumed the presidency of the RGS. He famously described Noel’s lecture as the “spark which set flame to the train.”

Mounting an expedition presented staggering hurdles. Everest was situated halfway across the globe rather than a brief train ride from London. Furthermore, reliable maps and localized survey data were practically nonexistent, and experts debated whether human survival was even physically possible at the officially calculated summit height of 29,002 feet. Early aviation pioneers and balloonists attempting high altitudes had already succumbed to fatal oxygen deprivation above 26,250 feet.

Reconnaissance and Early Breakthroughs

In 1921, the newly formed Mount Everest Committee—comprising members of the Royal Geographical Society and the Alpine Club—organized the first official reconnaissance expedition. It was exploration in its classical definition: designed to locate an approach route, map the immediate topography, and determine whether a viable path to the summit existed.

Irish-born explorer Charles K. Howard-Bury led the team, having played a pivotal role in the complex diplomatic negotiations with India and Tibet that unlocked access to the region. His team included surveyors Henry T. Morshead and Edward O. Wheeler, geologist Alexander M. Heron, and naturalist Alexander F. Wollaston. The climbing roster featured Scottish physician Alexander M. Kellas, his compatriot Harold A. Raeburn, and Guy H. Bullock. The final member of the party was a thirty-five-year-old schoolmaster from Charterhouse whose name would forever become inseparable from Everest lore: George Leigh Mallory.

Dr. Kellas had conducted rigorous scientific studies regarding human respiration at high altitudes, carrying out pioneering experiments inside pressure chambers. He correctly concluded that supplementary bottled oxygen could prove crucial for survival and performance at extreme elevations. Kellas also researched the physiological mechanics of acclimatization, recognizing that climbers needed to scale high points, descend to lower camps to recuperate, and repeat the cycle to help their bodies adapt to thin air. Many fundamental principles of human high-altitude adaptation had already been identified earlier in the century by physician and mountaineer Tom Longstaff during his Himalayan climbs. Expedition leader Edward Norton later praised Longstaff as a visionary prophet of high-altitude physiology. Crucially, Kellas was also among the first Europeans to champion the extraordinary capabilities of local Sherpa porters. Accompanied by just two Sherpa men in 1911, Kellas had climbed Pauhunri on the Tibet-Sikkim border, reaching 23,387 feet—the highest summit altitude achieved by anyone up to that time.

Mallory, meanwhile, had earned an elite reputation for his bold, graceful mountaineering style across the Lake District, North Wales, and the Alps prior to the First World War. Modern alpinists reassessing his early Welsh routes noted that his technical mastery and balance far outstripped most of his contemporaries. Beyond his physical prowess, Mallory was a gifted writer capable of capturing the stark poetry of the alpine experience. His detailed, detective-like chronicle of deciphering Everest’s topography in 1921 remains a masterwork of mountaineering literature.

By the time the 1921 team reached the northern fringes of the Everest massif in late June, illness had severely depleted their numbers. Dr. Kellas fell gravely ill with dysentery on the approach march and tragically died of heart failure at Kampa Dzong. Raeburn was similarly incapacitated and forced to retreat to Sikkim. Consequently, the burden of scouting potential climbing routes fell squarely upon Mallory and Bullock.

Exploring the Central Rongbuk Glacier, the pair discovered a broad spur extending from the North Col—a high saddle connecting Everest to its northern neighbor—toward the Northeast Ridge, which theoretically led to the summit. Although they initially missed the entrance to the East Rongbuk side valley that provided direct access to the North Col, surveyor Edward Wheeler later mapped and photographed the East Rongbuk Glacier, proving it to be the true gateway to the mountain.

By September 1922, the reconnaissance team successfully crossed the Lhakpa La pass and stood atop the North Col at 23,184 feet. Although Mallory believed he could climb roughly 2,000 feet higher, the fierce, swirling snow plumes battering the upper North Face made further progress imprudent. The reconnaissance was a resounding success: the team had successfully mapped all northern and eastern approaches during the worst possible weather window, the monsoon season, and identified a viable pathway toward the summit.

The First Serious Attempts and the Oxygen Controversy

Equipped with this topographical intelligence, the expedition returned in 1922 for the first serious summit bids. Following Kellas’s recommendations, the team brought bottled oxygen, but opinions immediately fractured over its use. Detractors argued that artificial oxygen was unsporting, effectively lowering the mountain’s height and diminishing the pure human challenge. This sparked an ethical debate in high-altitude mountaineering that persists to this day. Mallory himself initially opposed the technology, writing that climbing with heavy cylinders and facial masks stripped mountaineering of its essential charm.

Led by the jovial, fifty-six-year-old General Charles G. Bruce, the 1922 expedition featured seasoned climbers including George Ingle Finch, an innovative alpinist and scientist who became the primary advocate for oxygen usage. Surgeon and artist Howard Somervell, surveyor Henry Morshead, and military officer Edward Norton rounded out the elite climbing party.

Using the East Rongbuk route, the team established a series of camps culminating at the North Col. On May 20, Mallory, Norton, Somervell, and Morshead launched the first summit attempt without supplemental oxygen. Battling bitter winds and extreme cold, Morshead turned back early due to exhaustion. The remaining three trudged upward at a grueling pace, barely managing 400 feet of altitude per hour while resting every few minutes. Realizing the summit was unattainable, they turned back at approximately 26,640 feet, becoming the first humans to breach the 8,000-meter mark.

Shortly afterward, on May 24, George Finch utilized bottled oxygen alongside Geoffrey Bruce and soldier Tejbir Bura. Despite carrying heavier loads, the oxygen-assisted trio climbed roughly three times faster than Mallory’s party and established Camp V at 25,500 feet. When a severe storm trapped them inside their tents for two days, Finch utilized oxygen inside the shelter, noticing an immediate physical revival. The next morning, they pushed upward, setting a remarkable new altitude record of approximately 27,500 feet before equipment failure forced a retreat.

Despite these advances, tragedy struck on June 7 during a subsequent summit attempt when a massive avalanche swept across the slopes below the North Col, claiming the lives of seven Sherpa porters. The expedition was called off, leaving Everest unconquered, but the accumulation of physiological data regarding acclimatization, hydration, and oxygen use paved the way for the historic 1924 expedition—and the fateful arrival of twenty-one-year-old Sandy Irvine into the annals of mountaineering history.