By now, any scenario other than a climbing accident seemed unlikely, and any accident would have occurred well over a month earlier. Meanwhile, the monks informed us of very deep snow — more than a meter, in places — farther up the valley, where Fowler had indicated they planned to climb. “But,” said one, “if there is something up there, you will never find it until the snow melts.” That, combined with Fowler’s probable reticence to reveal his plan to climb Genyen, for fear of angering the monks, convinced us to start with Genyen peak and work our way up-valley.

On December 27, five teams of two embarked, with clear instructions that if they found a body they were to establish death, and then leave the site undisturbed. That night, four dejected, tired teams staggered into camp, having found nothing. At 5 p.m., the fifth team descended, declaring, “We found a body.” One member produced digital photos; the climber’s head and torso were buried, though the equipment we could see — boots, crampons, gaiters, and a glove — was modern and Western.

I kept it together long enough to call the consulate and, in Chengdu, Mary, who would inform the committees in the States. Then, I made a plan for the next day’s body recovery, walked over to my tent, and broke down.

That night, it began snowing. Despite the fresh snow, we only needed three hours, walking up a steep moraine to 5,300 meters, to reach the climber the next morning. The body lay directly under the main summit on the aforementioned bench, which showed significant recent avalanche activity; the snowpack over the talus here was extremely unstable. We proceeded cautiously and after an hour of digging, found that it was Fowler. We could see no sign of Boskoff, and the continual snowfall made it too hazardous to continue searching. We were lucky to find Fowler — one day later, his body would have been completely covered by snow. Solemnly, we improvised a litter and carried him down. Over the next few days, we conducted the grim business of transporting his remains back to the nearest mortuary, where Charles Duncan Fowler was cremated on New Year’s Day 2007.

Our best guess is that Christine Boskoff and Charlie Fowler died sometime between November 13 and 22. If it was snowing when they arrived, they probably wouldn’t have gone right for Genyen, opting instead for a rock climb on one of the spires. Regardless, at some point they hiked up from the main trail and along the moraine to reach the bench. Above it, they could have accessed a fairly narrow snow gully, bounded on both sides by rock buttresses. The gully, about 30 feet wide and pitched at 50 degrees, stretched 500 meters above the bench. If they had climbed up a couple hundred meters, they could have set up camp in the relative shelter of the right-hand buttress, positioning themselves for a quick blast to the top. Above there, a rightward-traversing ramp led to the blocky north ridge to the summit. It would have been a logical, direct, and relatively safe line... except for the gully, which widened at the top and acted as a massive funnel.