Green Boots is one of the most haunting and well-known landmarks on Mount Everest. It is quite popular, but only a few people truly know and talk freely about it. Believed to be Tsewang Paljor, an Indian climber who died during the 1996 Everest disaster. His body is located under the limestone cave along the popular northeast route. What makes it so strange is that many climbers pass by him, but nobody shows any interest in knowing his name or story. He was not just a climber, not just a body, but a frozen echo of ambition and the risks people take to reach the top of the world.
Wait… Who Is Green Boots, Anyway?
The name “Green Boots” might sound like the nickname of hikers or a trail marker, but on Everest, it is something more unique and chilling. For years, climbers have used “Green Boots” as a reference point along the northeast ridge route, something like a hidden landmark on the way to the summit. What gave him this name? Just a pair of bright green climbing boots, shining in the white snow where many trekkers stop to take a rest or seek shelter. He became a part of the mountain, mentioned in every guide’s book, someone’s documentary, who has successfully climbed Everest, yet is rarely spoken of as a person.
But here’s the true story: Green Boots is not a nickname of any climber who’s alive. It’s the name given to a dead body. A climber who lost his life in the deadly cold and thin air of Everest just because he couldn’t bear it. Over time, his identity was revealed, and he became popular only for the green boots he wore. Imagine being remembered not for your name, dream, achievement, or courage but for a piece of gear you’re wearing. A life turned into a landmark, frozen in place, and guiding others even in death.
He Had a Name, Once
The man behind the myth is none other than Tsewang Paljor. He was a young Indian climber from Ladakh, part of a team trying to summit Mount Everest in May 1996. Like so many other trekkers, he came with big dreams, determination, and a love for the mountains. He wasn’t a famous personality, just a normal, brave man chasing a goal. But, it is said that when a deadly storm came across them, he never made it back. His body was left where he died, preserved by the snow, and slowly became something else-no longer Tsewang, but simple “Green Boots”.
Over time, his name faded from memory, covered by snow, wind, and frozen just like a stone, only to be remembered in the stories of strangers. Instead of being known as a person, he became a point on the map. Climbers pass him, pause beside him, and even take selfies with his dead body. A man who was once standing in the same place where they are, hoping for the same glory. It’s eerie how normal it feels now, how a human life has turned into a landmark, a photo stop, a myth.
A Chilling Backstory
The 1996 Everest disaster is one of the scariest and deadliest days in the mountain’s history. That year, a brutal storm hit the upper slopes of Everest, trapping many climbers in the “death zone“. The air was thin, and the climate turned into a ghost, leaving very little chance of survival. Eight climbers died within hours. Among them was a young Indian climber believed to be Tsewang Paljor. His team almost reached the summit, but things changed when they were coming down. High winds, freezing cold, and blinding snow made rescue nearly impossible. Some of his team turned back. He kept going or was left behind, no one knows for real.
What makes this story more chilling is not only the facts, but the unknowns. We don’t know what Paljor saw in his final moments, how he felt, what was the situation going on, or what he was thinking as the storm closed in. Did he cry out? Did he try to move? Was he hopeful someone would come? These are the questions that no report can answer. All that remains is a frozen, dead body and a pair of green boots laced tightly on his feet.
The Body That Became a Direction
He died chasing a dream, frozen high above the world, where everywhere is silence, and only a thin, deadly air moves gently, covering and uncovering the snow on his body. Yet now, climbers on high-altitude expeditions are told casually, “Turn left at Everest Green Boots”. That’s how normal it has become. A man who once climbed with the hope of reaching the summit is now a dot on the map. A silent guidepost for others who are chasing the same dream he never achieved. It’s a surprising change, from struggling for life to unknowingly guiding others.
Green Boots’ body became part of Everest’s landscape, not because anyone wanted it, but because nobody could bring his body down. At that altitude, rescue and recovery are almost impossible. So he stayed. And over the years, he has become a direction, a waypoint, and a landmark, especially known by his gear, not by his name. Imagine being more useful in death than in life. Helping others achieve success where he failed. It’s not just tragic, it’s haunting.
Death in the Death Zone Is… Expected?
At extreme altitudes like the “Death Zone” above 8000 meters, everything changes, even morality. The air is so thin that every step feels like walking on another planet. Your body is giving up, your mind is cloudy, and survival becomes the only priority. On a summit expedition, helping someone who has collapsed isn’t just difficult, it means risking your own life. That’s why, at the top, people just walk past the dying. Not because they don’t care, but because if they stop, they could quickly become one of those dead, frozen bodies. You don’t just fail to ascend, but you’ll die trying to help.
That’s why there are more than 200 bodies on Everest. Climbers who didn’t make it are still lying on the mountain, frozen where they fell. Everest Green Boots is just one of them. Some climbers whisper, ‘There was nothing we could do,’ and in that zone, they are telling the truth. On Everest, survival sometimes means leaving others behind, even if it means stepping over someone who once shared the same dream as you.
The Unseen Guilt Carried Down the Mountain
Climbers who return from the highest mountain don’t always come back whole. Reaching the summit of Everest can feel like a great victory, but for someone, it brings a quiet, heavy guilt. This is called survivor’s guilt. It’s the feeling of getting down when others didn’t. Maybe they saw someone struggling, asking for help, and they couldn’t. Maybe they passed over a body, knowing that stopping could mean becoming one of those bodies. That guilt will remain forever and won’t melt like ice.
Many who descend successfully still carry memories that hurt. They remember the frozen faces still on Everest, the moment they chose survival over help. Some feel haunted by “summit fever,” that passion to reach the top, even though ignoring the danger or others in trouble. Altitude changes your body as well as your choices. The choices climbers make often follow them down the mountain and stay with them forever, long after the cold has left their skin.
Is This Morbid or Necessary?
Bringing a body down from Mount Everest is not like a rescue on flat ground. It is a very hard process. The person is totally frozen like a stone, often stuck in ice, and weighs more even with gear. The thin air makes it more difficult, and carrying extra weights becomes life-threatening. It can take up to eight rescue members, special equipment, and extreme effort just to move one body. The cost? around $70,000. That’s why most of the bodies that lie near a cave in the Northeast Ridge routes are never brought back. Instead, they will stay where they fell, a tragic part of the trail.
Over time, people got used to them. At some point, it became easier to step over the dead instead of carrying them down. Climbers starting from Everest Base Camp may pass several dead bodies on their way up, many from an unsuccessful descent from Everest. It may feel normal, but it’s not. These aren’t just frozen shapes; they’re people, someone’s son or daughter. The line between honoring life and ignoring death has become very thin. The real question is painful: If it were your family, would you leave them there like that? Would you call it necessary, or just hard to face?
More Than Just One Pair of Boots
Everest Green boots are just one of many. Mt.Everest is home to nearly 200-300 bodies. Mountaineers who died chasing their dreams to reach the summit now remain where they fell. One area below the summit is called Rainbow Valley. It sounds peaceful, even beautiful, until you know that the name comes from the colorful jackets, helmets, and gear still worn by the dead. These bright colours mark the dead bodies of climbers, frozen in place, too difficult and dangerous to bring them down. Retrieving bodies on Everest is rare, risky, and often impossible, especially at such high altitude.
Some of these lost climbers are remembered by names, like Sleeping Beauty, a woman whose body still rests on the mountain. Or, David Sharp, whose death triggered a worldwide outcry because other climbers kept going past him without stopping to help. But many are known only by what they wore- red jacket, blue boots, yellow hood. Their identity is buried under snow and rocks. In mountaineering, especially in Nepal, these silent figures are the bitter truth that nobody wants to talk about. They form a frozen community that no climbers want to join.
British Team Summits Everest in Under Five Days
For decades, the body of “Green Boots” lay on Everest as a sad reminder of how deadly the mountain can be. But a new British team has now rewritten the new rules of survival. In May 2025, four former British special forces soldiers: Major Garth Miller, Colonel Alistair Scott Carns, Anthony James Stazicker, and Kevin Francis Godlington, climbed Mount Everest in under five days without following the traditional acclimatisation process. Their journey began in London on May 16, and the team reached Everest Base Camp the following day and summited the world’s highest peak at 7:15 am on May 22.
Their climb was organized by Australian-based Furtenbach Adventures, which has triggered the controversy in Nepal. Not because of their speed, but due to the report that xenon gas was used before arrival. The gas, inhaled two weeks before the expedition, is believed to simulate red blood cell production to reduce the risk of altitude sickness, though it is banned by WADA.
Nepal officials, including the Department of Tourism, were not informed about the use of xenon. The investigation started after that. Critics said that this style of rapid climbing could hamper Everest’s economy. Expedition Operators Association president Dambar Parajuli warned that shorter climbs could reduce local job opportunities. Meanwhile, Furtenbach defended, saying the climb follows all the rules and protocols. However, the UIAA has stated there’s no clear evidence xenon helps with high-altitude performance and warned of its danger. Now, Nepal must decide how to manage new climbing methods while protecting safety and local jobs.
How Green Boots Changed the Climbing Culture
Everest Green boots became more than just a frozen figure, he became a wake-up call. His presence under the north cave forced climbers to think deeply about the choices they make in the death zone. Since then, the way people approach high-altitude climbing has changed significantly. Mountaineers now train more seriously, carry better gear, and talk openly about risks and responsibilities. Many climbers also document their climbs not just to celebrate success, but to share the lessons and climb more safely.
This change has brought up some questions about “ethical summits.” Where helping others and making smart choices matter more than reaching the top. Teams are more aware, more prepared, and more connected. Green Boots’ legacy is one of the great chapters in Everest’s book, pushing climbers not only to conquer the mountain but also to bring some changes in character and care.
Final Footsteps: Why We Keep Climbing Anyway
We climb Everest to feel alive, even as we step over frozen bodies that remind us how easily life can end. There’s something in us that always motivates us to reach the place where the sky begins. But up there, every step you take has its own risk, the breath challenges you, and the trials are totally silent, decorated with those who never made it back. Their dream still hangs up to the ice, their final footsteps frozen in time. We don’t always know why we climb, but in chasing our dreams and summits, we move forward with hope and courage.
