Practice English Reading Exercises for B2 – Extreme Expeditions & World Records 2

Exercises:   123456

Reading 1

You are going to read an article about four high-altitude climbers sharing the intense moral dilemmas and life-or-death decisions they faced in the “death zone” on Mount Everest.

For questions 1-10, choose from the people/sections (A-D). The people/sections may be chosen more than once.

Which person/section

1   describes the long-lasting psychological trauma of a decision made on the mountain?

2   justifies a controversial action by blaming the extreme negligence of another team?

3   mentions that trying to save someone’s life would have definitely caused further fatalities?

4   explains how a deeply personal ambition was sacrificed for the sake of a companion?

5   admits to taking supplies that did not belong to them in order to stay alive?

6   confesses to providing minimal assistance to a distressed climber before moving on?

7   notes how the lack of atmospheric pressure severely impairs rational thinking?

8   acknowledges a lingering sense of remorse for putting their own crew’s survival first?

9   was tempted to press on due to the proximity of the final destination?

10   felt a sense of rage toward whoever had jeopardised their safety?

Choices in the Death Zone

A Oliver

At 8,300 metres, your body is essentially shutting down. My team was descending rapidly as a ferocious blizzard closed in on us. Suddenly, we stumbled upon a solo climber who had collapsed in the snow, completely disorientated and out of supplemental oxygen. Every moral instinct urged me to drag him down, but my own crew was already stumbling from severe exhaustion. I handed him my spare flask of hot tea and radioed his approximate coordinates to base camp, but then I had to make the excruciating call to walk away. Lingering there to attempt a rescue would have frozen us all within the hour. I am well aware that prioritising my team was the only logical choice, yet the deep remorse of abandoning a defenceless stranger weighs heavily on me to this day. You never truly come to terms with leaving someone behind in the death zone, no matter how much you try to rationalise it.

B Katarina

Above the South Col, oxygen is your most precious commodity. We had strategically buried emergency cylinders on our ascent, banking on them for the gruelling journey down. However, when we reached our cache in the pitch black, the bottles were gone. Some other desperate group had clearly raided our stash. I was utterly furious; their blatant recklessness had essentially handed us a death sentence. As panic set in, my climbing partner noticed a different expedition’s brightly coloured bag nearby, containing two full tanks. The dilemma was immediate: if we took them, we were condemning the rightful owners. But with my partner starting to hallucinate from hypoxia, I made the split-second decision to steal the cylinders. I still justify it by telling myself we were the victims of theft first, but it was undeniably a ruthless act. Survival at that altitude strips away your civilised morals and replaces them with a primal urge to live.

C Gareth

I had spent three years training for Everest, and the summit was tantalisingly close—barely a hundred metres away. The weather was holding, and my adrenaline was surging. But then I looked back at my climbing partner, David. He had suddenly stopped moving and was coughing violently, exhibiting classic symptoms of high-altitude pulmonary edema. The extreme lack of atmospheric pressure plays cruel tricks on your mind, and for a fleeting moment, I genuinely considered leaving him there to wait while I quickly dashed to the top. It was a terrifyingly selfish thought, driven by sheer summit fever. Thankfully, loyalty won out. I abandoned my lifelong dream and immediately dragged David down to a lower altitude, undoubtedly saving his life. People often ask if I feel bitter about missing the peak when it was so close. Truthfully, I don’t hold a single regret. Standing on top of the world means absolutely nothing if it costs you your best friend.

D Mei

The reality of the death zone is that traditional medical ethics simply cease to exist. You are forced into a brutal system of triage where compassion takes a backseat to stark reality. During our final push to the peak, we passed a climber clipped to the fixed ropes. He was still breathing, but his eyes were unresponsive, and his hands were severely frostbitten. If we had tried to unclip him and haul his dead weight down the treacherous Hillary Step, it would have inevitably dragged my entire rope team over the precipice, resulting in multiple fatalities. We had to physically step over his legs and keep moving upwards. I still have vivid nightmares about his face. It is a haunting psychological burden that persists long after the physical frostbite heals. On Everest, you learn that trying to be a hero often gets everyone killed, and accepting that fact is the hardest challenge of all.

Reading 2

You are going to read an article about four adventurers talking about the massive logistical preparation, fundraising, and years of training required just to attempt a world-first expedition.

For questions 1-10, choose from the people/sections (A-D). The people/sections may be chosen more than once.

Which person/section

1   mentions feeling tempted to abandon the project before it even began?

2   states that obtaining official permission was a major obstacle?

3   had to make significant sacrifices regarding their social connections?

4   experienced a series of refusals before finally obtaining funding?

5   highlights the necessity of having specially designed gear manufactured?

6   had to train their mind specifically to cope with extreme loneliness?

7   adopted a highly unusual physical workout routine to prepare their body?

8   acknowledges the indispensable role of local, traditional knowledge in their planning?

9   mentions a frustrating delay caused by international transport issues?

10   had to determine their precise dietary requirements for the journey?

Before the Finish Line: The Hidden Reality of World-First Expeditions

A Leo

When I first pitched the idea of a solo, unsupported crossing of a newly formed Arctic ice shelf—a route no human had ever attempted—most corporate sponsors simply laughed. They thought it was far too risky, and I was faced with endless closed doors before eventually securing a backer. To say the fundraising phase was soul-destroying would be an understatement. But the physical preparation was equally intense. I couldn’t just go to a normal gym; I had to simulate the exact strain of pulling a heavy sled over rough ice. Consequently, my daily routine involved dragging massive tractor tyres across the local beaches for hours on end. I got some very strange looks from dog walkers! Mentally, you have to be incredibly resilient. People see the glamorous departure photos, but they never witness the four years of relentless grinding behind the scenes, or the sheer determination required to bounce back after yet another company turns you down.

B Maya

My goal was to descend into an unexplored network of caves in Southeast Asia, which meant plunging deeper than anyone had ever gone before. However, the biggest headache wasn’t the physical training; it was the red tape. Trying to acquire the necessary permits from various regional authorities took the best part of two years. I spent more time filling out complex paperwork than I did climbing ropes. Furthermore, a standard diving suit wouldn’t withstand the immense pressure or freezing temperatures down there, so I had to collaborate with a team of engineers to create a completely unique, custom-fitted suit. Then came the logistical nightmare of actually getting this highly sensitive equipment out to the remote site. Our departure was pushed back by three whole weeks because our vital safety gear got held up at customs. It requires a phenomenal amount of patience to navigate these endless bureaucratic hurdles without losing your temper.

C Tariq

Rowing across an unnavigated stretch of the Southern Ocean isn’t something you just wake up and do. It demands total commitment, and sadly, that meant my private life had to be put on hold entirely. For three years, I barely saw my friends or family, and I missed countless weddings and birthdays because I was either training or managing complex logistics. Alongside the grueling physical conditioning, I knew the psychological challenge would be the toughest part. I would be completely alone on the open water for months. To prepare for this, I actually locked myself in a small, dark room for days at a time, just to see how my brain would cope with the severe lack of stimulation. It sounds extreme, but learning to manage your own thoughts in total isolation is critical. Without that specific mental conditioning, the vast emptiness of the ocean would absolutely break you.

D Elena

Crossing the Empty Quarter on foot via a brand-new route required an overwhelming amount of strategy. About a year into the planning phase, the sheer scale of what I was attempting finally hit me, and I honestly came incredibly close to calling the whole thing off. The logistics of surviving in such a harsh environment were mind-boggling. Every single gram of weight mattered, which meant I had to precisely calculate my daily nutritional intake down to the last calorie, ensuring I had enough energy without overloading my backpack. Moreover, it would have been foolish to rely solely on modern satellite imagery. I spent months consulting with nomadic tribes, absorbing their ancestral understanding of the shifting dunes and hidden water sources. Their invaluable expertise was absolutely vital. No amount of advanced technology can ever replace the wisdom of the people who have called that punishing landscape home for generations.

Exercises:   123456