The best gift I've ever received has to be a bike when I was younger, a pedal bike.

It was a sort of slick little road bike and I remember it was all like, it was so, it was all wrapped up,

it was so obvious what it was obviously because nothing's shaped like a bike and I had a little ribbon on it and I was so guest.

For that was a life changer and I'm still sort of big on cycling around my area now so for that one change me a little.

Enjoy in every sip with red carp snout back at Starbucks.

It is May 1952. On a mountain ridge that skirts the border of Nepal and Tibet, two men are locked in a battle with the elements.

In the lead is Tenzing Norge, a sharper guide who grew up in the shadow of these peaks.

He is an experienced climber that he's never been this high before.

Gasping for breath, he squints up the steep ridge that leads to the very top.

Snow blows off the summit as though the mountain is smoking.

He can hear nothing but the high scream of the wind.

Tenzing lifts his foot and stamps his crampons into the ice.

He shifts his weight, then he lifts his other foot carefully, knowing that every step could be his last.

His companion is down on his hands and knees, inching along with his chin tucked into his armpit to shield his face from the merciless wind.

Some say this peak is the roof of the world, but right now it feels more like death's door.

The two men proceed in slow motion.

After another hour, Tenzing is crawling too.

Clouds swirl around a summit that flickers in and out of view like a mirage.

Struggling for breath, Tenzing suspects their oxygen supply is faulty.

They carry heavy gas bottles and have masks strapped over their faces.

But right now, the equipment seems to be all burden and no relief.

As his vision blurs, Tenzing's concern escalates.

...