Blog: johnloguk

ELUSIVE SUMMITS (PART 2)

After getting so close on Ramdung Peak, most of us from that trip commited ourselves to attempting another trekking peak as soon as we could get the cash together. After numerous phone calls and snatched meetings in campsites, and pubs, this was pre-internet and e-mails, we narrowed down our mountain to a shortlist of two. We still wanted to climb Mera Peak, the highest of the trekking peaks at over 22,000', but we were haunted by memories of cancelled flights into the mountains. Dare we risk it again, loads of people successfully climb Mera, it is a stunning mountain, but what if it all went wrong again?

So we eventually went for Chulu East, the second highest trekking peak situated in the Manang Himal, which was an area none of us had visited before. It didn't need a flight to get there either, just a bus, no problem there then? Before setting off for Nepal we all met up In Glen Coe for some winter skills training. Most of us were pretty confident on snow and ice, but we had a couple of newcomers who wanted to practice before getting to the serious stuff. It was a good excuse to have a long weekend in Glen Coe at the Clachaig Inn anyway! The skills training went well, despite usual dodgy Glen Coe weather, and we managed a couple of good climbs on Aonach Mor and Stob Coire nan Lochan. We soon got confused though when we sat down one evening to look at slides taken by a mutual friend on a recent trip to Chulu East.

Most of us had read the Bill O'Connor book on the Trekking Peaks of Nepal, the definitive guide at the time. We thought we knew what our mountain looked like, and it wasn't like the slides on the screen! We were told that there was "some confusion about the Chulu peaks". Indeed, there are 4 "Chulus" that are classed as trekking peaks; west, central, east and far east. It was also clear from the maps that there were a lot more than 4 peaks in the area, all around a similar altitude and level of difficulty. After a few beers we decided that "what the hell, it would all be clear once we were there"! I think the situation has been clarified since our trip.

So a few weeks later we found ourselves in Kathmandu, all the familiar sights and smells, the usual couple of days rushing round sorting out gear and meeting our sirdar Ang Kami. The sirdar is the head Sherpa, the local guy who organises the crew, sherpas, porters and cook. We had worked with Ang Kami before, and we trusted him like a good friend. His man management skills and organisational abilities make candidates on "The Apprentice" look like rank amateurs, he is a star!

We were so confident when we boarded our bus, what could possibly go wrong? Well before we had even left the Kathmandu Valley the road disappeared completely! This was madness, it was the main road between Kathmandu and Nepal's second city of Pokara, had we got lost already? Nope, it was just Nepalese road works, and our driver simply drove the bus into a trench, through a boulder field and out the other side, phew, sorted. The rest of the journey was uneventful, a few rest stops for cold drinks, toilet and longing looks to the snow clad peaks to the north. Until a cow decided to walk infront of the bus anyway! Screaming brakes, a huge sideways skid... and a bump! But it wasn't the cow that we hit, so what was it? We all got out and were dismayed to see several kit bags had fallen off the roof when we braked, and then the bus had run over them, leaving gear scattered all over the place. Luckily the only things to be damaged were some unexposed films in my bag, and we were off again feeling very relieved.

Eventually we arrived at our stop, and all our gear was transferred to lorries for a very rough couple of hours up into the foothills. These lorries were great, no radiators to speak of, so we kept stopping to pour water over the engines. One had to be tow started by the other every time we stopped, what fun! The best bit though was the side by side racing on narrow rocky tracks, as each driver vied to get infront. The prize was being able to see where you were going, because if you were at the back you were in a constant cloud of clinging dust. After a very long day we finally left the lorries and set off on foot for a short walk to our first camp, blessed relieve.

The first few days walking follow the popular Annapurna circuit, one of the busiest trails in Nepal. The trail follows the huge Marsyandi Valley north, then north-west, clinging to the valley sides, dropping to cross the river, then back up the other side, never flat. The valley sides slowly close in and you realise that you are walking through the world's climatic zones as you ascend, almost imperceptibly, from sub-tropical jungle to temperate forest, then finally above the tree line to sub-arctic conditions.

After a couple of weeks we were finally on our mountain, heading up on steep short grass in the warm sunshine despite the altitude. We established our base camp in a grassy bowl facing south to the mighty Annapurna range, which was to become our backdrop on the climb. Our sherpas had had numerous arguments about which was the right mountain to climb, very similar to ours at the Clachaig, but by now we were commited, and whatever we were on it will always be Chulu East to us.

From base camp we spent a day exploring upwards and ferrying gear to our high camp. This was a stunning place, on a sort of balcony above a big rock step and a glacier, with views to the peak itself. The rock step had been our first serious bit of climbing on what had so far been a walk in the park. Loose soft snow on even looser scree meant we roped up for the first time, and at last felt we were on a big mountain. After a day acclimatising at base camp we headed up for high camp and the summit attempt. What a spot this camp was, I think I reeled off 2 whole films as the views changed before sunset.

The glacier between high camp and the mountain was horribly crevassed, and we had to recce a way across it before our summit attempt, otherwise we could waste a whole day just on the glacier. Eventually we found a route, and in the early hours of summit day set off into the freezing dark of pre-dawn. We crossed the glacier steadily, roped up under the lights from our head torches, and watched as the sun clipped the tops of the Annapurnas on the opposite side of the valley. As we reached the far side of the glacier we were still in the shade, but most of the rest of the world was now shining brightly.

The steep snow slope on the far side of the glacier was in excellent condition, firm but not icy. We stayed in our ropes of 4 but made quick progress. Eventually we got to a rocky crag, and sat on the top of it in the sunshine. Mugs of tea and energy bars, we were feeling good. The slope steepened above us to the summit ridge, but it didn't look difficult. Some people were starting to get a bit tired, but we made a joint decision not to split up. We would stay as one, and try and get everyone to the top, this was almost a fatal decision.

The snow slope to the ridge steepened to over 45% and started to get icy. This meant that we had to take it in pitches, one at a time, and our progress slowed considerably. But at least there was no wind and the sun was quite warm. I was one of the first to get to the summit ridge, and found myself in a small ice cave talking to sherpa Sonam Temba, one of the characters of the trip. Sonam was in his late 40s, and had some stories to tell while we waited for everyone else to climb up to us. He had been with Chris Bonington on the famous 1975 Everest south west face expedition. I was amazed when Sonam told me that his job had been the "ice fall doctor". This must be one of the most dangerous jobs in the world. Checking and repairing the fixed ropes and ladders, that are constantly being destroyed by the moving ice blocks. Most climbers get through the ice fall as quickly as they can, but it had been Sonam's job to spend all his time there fixing things, for weeks!

The two of us had a look at the final summit ridge as we chatted. Nothing serious we thought, easy angled snow, some small rock steps, but the snow was getting soft now in the heat of the day. By the time we got everyone to the ice cave Sonam and I had been there over 2 hours and it was getting late, we knew we weren't going to make the top. A quick discussion, but it was an easy decision again. It would take a long time to get everyone back down the steep pitches, we would almost certainly get back to camp in the dark even if we set off now, so down it was. The fittest group of us did decide to make a forlorn attempt at the summit, rather than sit and watch the others queuing for their descent, but we didn't get far. The snow was sliding off the ridge in sheets now, it was soft and dangerous. And the cloud was building all around us. Not only was it going to get dark soon, there was a storm coming in too. We took a few spectacular photos as the views slowly disappeared, and eventually we were all rushing down the ropes as fast as we dared and heading back for the glacier.

It was dark long before we got down to the glacier, lucky that we had marked our way across with flags in the morning. But then some of our headtorch batteries started to give out, just as the first flash of lightning and rumble of thunder hit us! The next couple of hours was nerve jangling and adrenaline fueled. On a heavily crevassed glacier above 17,000', in the dark with failing torches, in a thunderstorm, covered in metal climbing gear from head to toe.....

Jumping the crevasses was fun at first, they weren't very wide and we were roped together. But the more people that jumped them the more the edges got broken back, and the wider they became, and muggins was on the back of the last rope! I've mentioned on one of my photos that I didn't quite make my jump across one of the crevasses, and that image still haunts me. I can laugh about it now but it wasn't fun at the time. Eventually we did get back to the tents and safety, it had been too close for comfort. Get that kettle on!

We couldn't face another attempt the following day, we were totally wasted, so down we went, with one last look back at another peak that we had failed to climb. As on Ramdung Peak though the descent was a joy and our spirits were soon raised again. The camp that night was in a sunny glade of pine trees, a world away from the glacier, and we knew that we still had some adventures in store before the trip was over. There was the wind up with the Kiwi doctors at Manang that I describe in another blog. Then we had to cross the high pass of the Thorung La, and we had something in our back pockets that would hopefully give us a summit before we went home, but that is in part three.....

by johnloguk on 12:34 on 28th June 2007