Ko Ming-hwa: A Taiwanese Mountaineer and His Second Ascent in Life

      “God let me live, I believe, to continue my mission — that is, to complete the China Hundred Mountains photography project.” On May 10, 1996, Ko Ming-hwa reached the pinnacle of his mountaineering career — summiting Mount Everest. But on the descent, an unexpected blizzard claimed the lives of eight fellow climbers, while he himself barely survived, losing all fingers on both hands.
　　Fifteen years have passed, and now, this Taiwanese mountaineering hero is using his maimed hands to climb another peak in life — completing the China Hundred Mountains photography project, capturing and expressing the beauty of a hundred Chinese mountains through his lens.

　　At 63, Ko Ming-hwa is of medium height with silver hair, and at first glance looks like an ordinary elderly man. But when you shake his hand, you truly feel what a resilient life force he possesses. Those fingerless hands are still full of strength, capable of handling a camera, computer, writing, and driving, continuing his dialogue with China’s mountains and bringing their stories to more people through sight and sound.

　　Ko Ming-hwa was born in Ruifang District, New Taipei City, the son of a miner. “My hometown is by the mountains and the sea, and I often went up the mountains and down to the sea as a child,” he said, adding that his love for the mountains began in his youth. After moving to Taipei for work, Ko initially often hiked with colleagues during holidays. But soon he wasn’t satisfied and began learning rock climbing, growing increasingly fascinated with professional mountaineering. In the 1980s, Ko traveled to Japan, South Korea, and France for rigorous mountaineering training in icy, snowy conditions, subsequently challenging high peaks across South America, North America, Europe, and India.

　　In 1991, Ko Ming-hwa led a team into Tibet for the first time. “It was truly eye-opening; the mountains were so majestic. Amidst the novelty and excitement, I made up my mind to specifically photograph the mountains of Tibet,” he recalled.

　　The following autumn, Ko returned to Tibet aiming to summit Everest, but was forced to turn back at 8,050 meters due to bad weather. Disappointed yet undeterred, Ko “soared against the wind,” setting the ambitious goal of completing the China Hundred Mountains photography project.

　　At 15:15 on May 10, 1996, Ko Ming-hwa finally reached the summit of Everest. But on the descent, a blizzard blocked the way back for him and several other teams, resulting in the deaths of eight climbing heroes on Everest, marking a sorrowful chapter in modern mountaineering history. Ko, too, experienced profound grief following the joy of reaching the summit.

　　“As we descended, the temperature plummeted, the wind and snow were fierce, and everything was pitch black. To make matters worse, I was exhausted and couldn’t keep up with the two Sherpa guides. The gale was so strong I couldn’t bear it and had to sit on the slope. Within five minutes, my whole body was shaking uncontrollably. I struggled to breathe and realized my oxygen was almost gone. My hands were numb, probably frostbitten, and I guessed my feet weren’t much better,” Ko recalled. To prevent himself from falling asleep and freezing to death, he kept shouting out loud: “Ko Ming-hwa, don’t sleep!”

　　The tenacious climber held on until the next morning. When the sky lightened and the storm eased slightly, Ko lost consciousness. The returning Sherpas later found him. The survivor returned to Taiwan and spent a full year in the hospital, undergoing 15 surgeries — having fingers, toes, heels, and his nose amputated, along with skin grafts and reconstructive surgery. It was, as he put it, “a thousand cuts.” “My current nose is new — it’s made from a piece of flesh taken from my forehead,” Ko said lightly, reflecting on the excruciating medical journey.

　　“When I got out of the hospital and back home, I couldn’t walk, lay in bed all day, and couldn’t take care of myself. I was utterly hopeless,” he said. “But then one day, I suddenly thought — God didn’t let me die on Everest, so there must be some mission I’m meant to fulfill.”

　　Ko remembered the China Hundred Mountains photography project, and his life found new motivation. “I practiced walking on my knees, standing up, washing my face, brushing my teeth, eating — every small improvement made me feel a greater sense of achievement than summiting Everest.” Bit by bit, Ko relearned how to write, use a computer and camera, and even drive.

　　“At that point, I told myself — it’s time to return to the Himalayas,” Ko said. He went back to Tibet in 1998 to test his high-altitude adaptability, and officially set off again the following year, staying in Tibet for eight months.

　　His physical condition was far from what it used to be, making photography expeditions undeniably challenging. Though progress slowed, he never gave up on his dream. Over a decade, his footsteps extended from Tibet to Xinjiang, Sichuan, Yunnan, Qinghai, Jilin, Anhui, Shandong, and beyond. The China Hundred Mountains project has now captured 62 peaks.

　　Another challenge lay in funding. As early as 1994, Ko quit his job to devote himself fully to mountaineering and the China Hundred Mountains project, sustaining himself and raising funds by selling his books, photos, and giving lectures. Gratefully, he added, “In the past two years, companies on the mainland have also invited me to speak, and friends I’ve met there have given me a lot of help.”

　　In Ko Ming-hwa’s “personal selection” of China Hundred Mountains, one category includes the snow-capped peaks of western China, and another consists of what he considers “famous mountains and rivers that hold a place in Chinese historical and cultural heritage.” He told reporters, “In the past, seeing many things Chinese being represented by foreigners deeply moved me. I always felt that things Chinese should be expressed by Chinese people themselves, to offer deeper cultural insights.”

　　“Nothing in the world is difficult for one who sets his mind to it.” Ko Ming-hwa’s road ahead remains “long, hard, and steep,” but he remains unrepentant. “In one’s lifetime, doing just one meaningful thing is enough!”