The
Great Yeti Hunt
The
Dominion Post | Saturday, 12 January 2008
Ed
Hillary is forever linked with epic feats but the international image of the austere,
driven, action man from down-under doesn't do him justice.
Hillary
believed that to get things done he sometimes needed to step on toes in his size
13 boots.
He
was blunt when he needed to be but also had a finely developed sense of humour,
mischief even, especially when climbing mates like George Lowe and Peter Mulgrew
were around.
If
Hillary had been concerned at all about what the rest of the world thought of
him his most bizarre undertaking, the Great Himalayan Yeti Hunt of 1960-61, would
never have got off the ground.
He
led an expedition into the Himalayas to look for the fabled, hairy ape-like creature
seen by few and which left strange footprints on the snow-covered slopes.
Hillary
was sceptical about the yeti's existence but recognised that though others didn't
believe in the Loch Ness monster that didn't stop them organising expeditions
to look for it.
This
wasn't lost on the World Book Encyclopedia which sponsored Hillary's attempt to
find a yeti.
Whether
the expedition turned up a yeti or not didn't matter; the company knew yeti folklore
and mystique alone was tantalising enough to ensure public interest.
To
no one's surprise, the yeti eluded Hillary and his team of climbers and scientists
despite some initial optimism prompted by footprints found on the Ripimu Glacier.
According
to New Zealand author Pat Booth's book on Hillary, Sherpas with the expedition
immediately identified these as proof yeti existed.
They
were large and broad with clear toes. But, when they were followed into areas
of shade, they shrank and became the obvious tracks of fox or wild dog.
Experts
believed that this effect of the heat of the sun in melting snow probably explained
mysterious footprints that a Swiss party had found in 1952.
Scientific
study of a `yeti skull' provided by villagers revealed it was fake.
But
the locals weren't impressed and questioned whether a yeti would reveal itself
to people who paraded around the countryside like a herd of lumbering multi-coloured
yaks.