Blog: johnloguk

ELUSIVE SUMMITS (PART 3)

Two days after our narrow failure to summit on Chulu East we were back in the main valley. Compared to the mountain it was warm and comfortable, despite still being at high altitude, and all the snow that had lain thick on the ground a week earlier had disappeared.

For the trekkers still plodding upwards on their way round the Annapurna Circuit, the area around Manang was bleak and windswept, but for us it was almost literally a walk in the park. We spent a day playing tourists, exploring old monasteries and azure blue glacial lakes, and winding up the staff at the medical centre, as described in the "Oh How We Laughed" blog. We were still a very happy group, but we had started to split into two camps in one aspect. Half of us were still desperate to make a summit, whereas the others were content now to just continue the trek and had got summits out of their system.

Before we left Manang we looked at the options. We still had to climb the high pass of the Thorung La at over 17,500', before dropping down into the Kali Gandaki Valley for the last section of the trek. On the south side of the pass was the mountain Thorung Peak. The famous American mountain photographer Galen Rowell had climbed this on a trek over the Thorung La a few years before, and although you couldn't get permits for it we knew it was regularly attempted. At over 20,000' it would be a worthy summit, but we didn't know the route, and we didn't want to get arrested either!

As we walked west from Manang the valley got wilder and rougher, finally reaching the end of a box canyon where a collection of stone buildings offer shelter for those about to attempt the Thorung La. This was a desolate place, cold, dusty and windy. Our tents were marginally more comfortable than the crowded and dirty stone huts. By now we had got down to 4 people who definitely wanted to attempt the peak, a similar number who definitely didn't, and a few who were reserving judgement until they found what they had left at the top of the pass. Of course it might all come down to weather or snow conditions anyway. We were very nervous when we went back to our tents early, because a very early start was required in the morning.

As I've said before, the snow conditions deteriorate as the day goes on and the sun warms things up. It is important to get over any high passes before the snow turns to soft mush or dangerous avalanche prone slopes. At some ungodly hour we were up, and the morning tea and porridge barely managed to warm us through. In a way it felt bleaker than high on the mountain. At least then we had some sort of a view, here we were hemmed in completely by rock walls.

We set off under the flickering lights of our head torches and started the relentless climb to the Thorung La. We weren't alone, there were many other trekking groups, and even more local porters doing the regular trip over the pass. As the ground started to level out the sky began to brighten, but we still felt enclosed and freezing cold for some time. We eventually got our first view ahead to the pass itself, and Thorung Peak off to the left, and suddenly we were in sunshine and starting to warm up.

Thorung Peak looked very icy, shining in the sunlight, we hoped it looked less forbidding closer up. By the time we got to the top of the pass, with its cairns and prayer flags, the wind was howling. It was like a very bright wind tunnel, and not a place to linger. Most groups were hurrying on over the pass, anxious to drop back into the warmth and out of the wind. We had our final discussion about the options. In the end the determined four were left to make camp in this inhospitable place, while the rest waved us goodbye, wished us luck and headed on down. They joked about the flesh pots of Mukhtinath, where we hoped to catch them up the next day.

We managed to find a sheltered hollow near the summit of the pass and pitched our tents. The ground was very rough underneath, big sharp boulders, but when you are tired and/or determined it is amazing what you can sleep on! As we waited for the sunset we examined our mountain through binoculars looking for a route. The obvious straight line up from the pass was sheet ice, a definite no-no. Earlier we had thought there was a line climbing diagonally up back eastward, then through a rock band and up to the summit via a broad east ridge. We could only see the first part of this route from the camp, but it was the only option we had, the morning would reveal more.

Another early start saw us heading up steadily on our diagonal traverse of the lower slopes. The going was easy and we gained height fast. Soon our tents were pin pricks behind and below us, and we were turning south onto the lower part of the east ridge, We'd come out onto the ridge immediately below the rock band and the snow ramp through it. It looked fine, we didn't even rope up, the snow conditions were perfect and we were up onto the broad ridge within the hour. At this point success seemed assured, until someone pointed out the cloud building to the south-east and heading our way.

This was the same direction that had brought the storm on Chulu, but at least this time there was only four of us and we were moving quickly on easy ground, we pushed on. At one point I was distracted when the moon appeared behind a sharp pointed summit, a clear photo opportunity, and for a little while even the clouds seemed to dissipate. We stopped for a rest and some food on a broad level terrace. We reckoned it was only 30 minutes easy going to the summit from here. One of the guys said he was feeling tired, so he would leave his rucsac here and pick it up on the way down. Although the rest of us elected to keep carrying our packs, none of us saw a problem in leaving one sack here.

It was probably a little over 30 minutes when the ground suddenly stopped going up infront of us, and we realised that we had reached the summit. In fact it was a domed plateau rather than a sharp summit, but we soon found the high point and hugged and jumped for joy. At last, we'd got our elusive Himalayan summit, 20,400', the relief and feeling of achievement was intense. We took loads of photos, 360 degree panoramas, checking off the really big peaks around us. The Annapurnas now almost looked at our level, despite being 6,000' higher still. Daulagiri to the west looked stunning, as did Manaslu far away in the east. Our eyes were also drawn to the north and the brown Tibetan plateau stretching into the distant haze.

We tried to get a view down to our tents, but that edge of the summit was heavily corniced, deadly overhanging snow and ice, so an ascent from that side would have been very difficult. The cloud was closing in again from the east, so we bid farewell to our first Himalayan summit and headed back down. Our first surprise was when we reached the rucsac, it was surrounded with fluffy debris! On inspection the whole of the padded back was full of small holes and loose threads. £150 worth of rucsac had been destroyed by birds at 20,000'! They were Alpine Chuffs, and we assumed that the salt and sweat soaked into the padding had attracted them. It was an expensive lesson anyway.

The descent went fine apart from the ramp though the rock band. The snow was now very soft, and it was sliding away in chunks. The ropes came out instantly and we made very tentative downward progress until we got onto easy ground again. We got back to the tents and packed them away quickly, the hard part was done, but it was still a long way down to Mukhtinath and the weather was worsening by the minute. With heavy packs and tired bodies the descent from the Thorung La turned into one of those walking dead nightmares. The trail was easy to follow, but it was quite rough and just seemed to go on forever. It started to snow, but this quickly turned to sleet as we descended, visibilty was almost nil and it was getting dark.

Eventually we reached Mukhtinath in a daze, and just as we were thinking how on earth would we find our group in a strange village in a storm in the dark... they found us. Packs were taken off us, we were led to tents already erected in a sheltered spot, food and drink was poured into us, and eventually someone remembered to ask us if we'd got to the top! Someone else had found some beer, a selection of hoarded cheeses was produced, then some malt whisky, this was a classy party and our aches and pains disappeared. We had been on the go for about 16 hours, climbing 3000' and descending over 8,000'.

The following day we had other aches and pains, but the weather had cleared up. The trail improved considerably as we descended, giving great views down to the village of Kagbeni and the river at the bottom of the Kali Gandaki Valley. The Kali Gandaki is said to be over twice the depth of the Grand Canyon, and is claimed to be the world's deepest valley. It was impressive anyway. But no more so than the green oasis of Kagbeni after all the snow and barren rock of recent days.

Two days later we had walked down the Kali Gandaki to the airstrip at Jomson and flown out of the mountains. We were in the Chitwan National Park, riding out on elephant safari looking for tigers. I would recommend this as the best way to ease down after a hard climbing trip, great times and great memories.

by johnloguk on 19:10 on 6th July 2007