On the night of October 2, we were determined to confront the final attack to Everest's summit. The wind of 40 to 50 Km/h was freezing us - Irivan says that the gusts of wind were 50 to 60 Km/h - but we were brave. The Sherpas and Koreans were left behind while Irivan and me were using our strengths, because somebody had to open the route. The slope turned 50 degrees, we had snow up to our waists and we felt that the terrain was unstable. I asked Irivan to get close to me for safety. The wind was blowing very strong, our rhythm diminished and we started to feel the intensity of the cold temperature. Our Sherpas were very cold and asked for permission to go back to Camp 4. Our frustration increased because nobody had the conditions to help us. You can not imagine how big our disappointment was. Irivan tried to cheer me up and got two meters in the front of me and was stuck in the snow up to his waist. I considered descending some meters to try another path in the left, but the Sherpas insisted to follow the same path. In the meanwhile, gathering all my strength, I gained meter by meter following an old fixed rope and got to a protuberance of more or less 60 degrees of inclination and felt that all the terrain under my feet began to slip. It was as if someone was pulling the rug under my feet. In fact it was a layer of snow 50 cm thick on which I began to do fast steps as if I was running on a treadmill. I could jump by miracle to the side of the summit and I could fix myself with my piolet, as I was looking at that volume of snow falling down the mountain. What despair! I was there gripping the ice, but everyone else? And my partner? I looked down and I saw lights some 10 meters below, and I shouted from the top: "Where is Irivan?" [in English ]. Somebody answered [in English] "Irivan and Mingma are gone!" I panicked while the Koreans and Sherpas were screaming of fright in the dark. It was 3 hours in the morning, the temperature was 30 negative degrees Celsius and you can not imagine my despair. I loosened the rope that had saved my life and I went down trying to find Irivan. I could not see anything near but further down, maybe some 150 meters, I saw with a weak light two bodies laying in the snow, and I felt relieved when I saw they were moving. I was exhaust when I got to them, Irivan was calm and fine, however it was possible to see the hits he suffered during the fall. His suit was all ripped. Our Sherpa Mingma was uncontrolled and screamed crying that he did not want to die. We were relieved because nothing serious had happened, so Irivan and me tried to control the situation. I took our Sherpa's backpack and we turned back to Camp 4. I looked that starry night and thanked God for that moment and for being alive. We still had the hope to climb Everest, we entered our tent where Alir was already, and waited for the daybreak to come with a more comfortable temperature. The next day, the Sherpas abandoned us with the wind, and Alir, along with them, started to descend to Camp 2. Irivan and me felt alone as never before, but we had to try once again because we knew that if the wind diminished we would have another chance to reach the top of Everest. The climbers of the Japanese team arrived today with three more, very strong Sherpas. The chief of the Korean expedition also resisted with another brave Sherpa. Meanwhile, the second night came, coldest than the first one, and our feet stung from the cold. Our soul was frozen. Our solitude was frozen. The noise of the wind was deafening, neither Irivan nor me could get to sleep. The night seemed to have no end. Neither the Japanese nor the Koreans went out of their tents to attack the summit. When it dawned, we were exhaust, completely disappointed and the wind was still deafening....

58th day of the Brazilian Expedition to the Top of the World. Camp 4 on Lhotse (7.860m) The wind is preventing us from doing the summit attack.