Charlie’s Bottle

One of the most meaningful experiences I had while writing Edge of the Map involved a fuel bottle, a Tibetan motorcycle driver and a thoughtful sister.

Among the items found on the slopes of Mount Genyen in 2006 was Charlie Fowler’s fuel bottle. At the time of discovery six weeks after the avalanche, it was still filled with gas. Rather than deal with emptying it and returning it to Charlie’s survivors, the canister was kept in Chengdu at the home of Jon Otto, a mountain guide who’d helped lead the search and recovery. It seemed impersonal and of little value to anyone, not to mention it reeked of fuel and would need to clear customs at multiple airports in the post-9/11 era.

So the bottle stayed in China.

Eleven years later as I prepared to travel to Genyen, I learned of the bottle in a late night, overseas phone call with Jon.

“Say, I’ve still got Charlie’s gas can. Think maybe you can finally bring it home and get it to his sister?” Jon said.

“Oh wow…yes for sure,” I replied. “Let’s empty it somehow, wash it and I’ll get it to Ginny.”

A few weeks later I arrived in Chengdu. The bottle was a standard, red, MSR version. I held it, the smooth, cold aluminum still carrying the fuel that Chris and Charlie would have used to cook a meal had they reached the summit of Genyen those many years ago. It was still intact, only a few chips in the paint and no dents or evidence that it had survived an avalanche.

The next day as we traveled on the Tibetan Plateau, Jon and I spot a Tibetan motorcycle driver at a rest stop. We pull over and approach him, a bright smile revealing several gold teeth. His bike is weighed down with thick blankets, bags of grain and a white canvas tarp.

“I’ve got an extra liter of cooking gas,” I offer in broken Chinese. “Think you can use it?” I hold out the can and give it a shake, jostling the contents as I point to his gas tank.

He nods, an indication that he’s understood, but probably only speaks Tibetan.

Jon carefully empties the gas into his tank, and the motorcycle man beams. It’s an extra day of fuel that will last many miles. Driving off, he waves. I watch him disappear, hoping Charlie is somewhere looking on and elated that his fuel didn’t go to waste.

The fuel canister fills a corner in my backpack, sharing space with camping gear, bottles of Diamox and a journal to take notes. Each day I cradle it, sometimes falling asleep with it in my hands.

One month later, I was back in the United States. After my parents, one of the first people I touched base with was Charlie’s sister. She’d known of my travels and the plan to bring her brother’s fuel bottle home.

Dear Ginny,

I’m back from my travels to the Genyen Valley and I must say that if there’s a more beautiful place in all the world, I cannot imagine it. Let’s chat soon so I can fill you in beyond a quick email.

One quick thing that I’d like to run past you…

Jon Otto kindly helped me clean up Charlie’s fuel bottle so I could bring it home. We found a grizzly, old Tibetan motorcycle driver deep in western Sichuan and he was delighted to fill his tank with the eleven-year-old gas!

I made it through the various airports just fine and the canister is now sitting on my desk, looking over me as I continue working on the manuscript. And I must say, I’ve grown attached to it. There’s nothing remarkable about it, really. I’m including a photo and you can see that Charlie had wrapped a strip of duct tape around it. The prayer flags littered the grounds around the monastery and I kept just these pieces and tied them on. To anyone else, it’s just a silly bottle, but to me it feels priceless.

So I’m wondering how you’d feel if I kept it just a little longer?

Johanna

I waited for a response, and in her usual manner, it came quickly. In keeping with the kindness I’d become familiar with, each of Chris and Charlie’s loved ones were gracious, their only consideration being to provide me with what I needed to capture the story best.

Eighteen months later Charlie’s fuel bottle continues to sit, retired on my desk. A lovely home, though I’d rather it be off in the wilderness somewhere. With him. Seeking the solitude and beauty that took both Chris and Charlie to unexplored places.