Practice
At Base Camp
Khare, 12th October,
afternoon
When I was breathing really hard this morning, from doing
nothing more than having gone to the toilet tent, maybe 20 yards away, I had
little confidence about my ability to make progress on the acclimatisation climb.
Yet I enjoyed it, especially the steepest bits.
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Colin and I set off a few minutes behind the others,
with Sherpa Puri as our guide. He kept trying to rush us on. Only afterwards
did we realise why; he didn't know the way and he was trying to keep the
other party in sight.
We intended to cross several minor ridges and the
rubbly end of a glacier until we caught the bottom end of the main ridge
of the nearby peak. We would then take that gently sloping ridge up to
the top of the peak.
For the first few ridges there was a path and so
I think we went the same way as the others.
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The acclimatisation peak in sunshine
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Then, instead of walking another half-mile or so
to pick up the main ridge at its origin,
Puri suddenly veered
sideways and went straight up the side of a near vertical slope.
Puri, with his immaculate balance (he had carried
stores up to the South Col on Everest, about 26,000 feet) was able to
go up this slope without any need for his hands, but I was soon scrambling
for handholds and footholds.
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After a few minutes of this, I realised I was really enjoying
it. It was just challenging enough to be fun and I was making good vertical
progress. When we had got about two-thirds of the way up to the spine of the
main ridge Colin called out that he couldn't go on. He had been suffering with
possibly the same ailment as me and his energy had simply drained out. We compromised.
Colin would stay put and eat the packed lunch, while Puri would accompany me
up onto the main spine of the ridge.
Colin was pretty tired on the way home but Puri insisted
on going straight up and straight down all the ridges. He kept getting so far
ahead of us that you couldn't debate with him. You just had to put up with it.
At what seemed like the nightly doctor's surgery Andy
seemed to think I was making progress. I believe that the antibiotics are producing
results. Certainly there is a new confidence about me which wasn't there yesterday.
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The
Unexpected Cake
The mess tent was the source of a really touching
moment this afternoon.
We were all in there for some tea, when in came
the Sherpa cooks bearing a big cake, which they had baked in honour
of Paul's 42nd birthday.
We even had a homemade birthday card (done by Lee
and Scott), featuring a cloud of angry leeches chasing Paul, which we
had all signed.
The cake was truly delicious, with chocolate and
snow icing (what else?), and lots of fruit in it.
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The Card, with the Cake in the foreground
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Khare (16,205 feet)
13th October
I had my first excellent night's sleep of the whole trek.
The next thing I was conscious of was light streaming through the tent walls
and five to six on the watch, just time enough to salivate in anticipation of
the arrival of bed tea. My physical state felt good, unlike poor Colin who is
suffering in a number of ways.
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Looks more fearful in snow!
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The
big surprise was that there had been a heavy snowfall during the night.
This was to have been our first snow/ice training day up on the glacier,
but the extra snow ruined that.
Today was therefore declared a rest day. Fittingly,
the blizzard continued, showing how puny human endeavours are against
the vagaries of nature.
In order to stand any chance of getting to the top
of Mera we need no more snow and at least one or more days of sunshine
in order to compact the snow.
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Here at Khare we have expeditions from France, the USA,
the Czech Republic and I think some Germans, as well as at least three from
the UK.
We are all waiting for the right weather, having flights
booked to go home to our countries in a week or so, so we can't juggle our ascent
attempts by more than a day or two.
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Looking down on the many tents at base camp
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I can hear the porters and Sherpas singing the same
song over and over again, probably Resham Pheeree Ree. It is a
cheerful and uplifting song, exactly sort of song you sing when you are
carefree: the porters know won't be doing any carrying today.
The mood changed at dinnertime. Lee reported that
his gums were bleeding continuously. As he talked to us he had to spit
out blood every few minutes, which was somewhat disconcerting. But when
he spat out something solid - a bit of his gums - we really became alarmed.
It was probably altitude related, so one of the Sherpas
was designated to take him immediately down to Tagnak (about 2500 feet lower),
where there was a good chance of encountering a doctor. Scott decided to
accompany him. |
On their way past the other expeditions they asked if
there were any doctors present. They found a German doctor who advised that
the condition was immediately life-threatening and that a helicopter evacuation
was the only answer. My God, that made everybody sit up. So Andy, aided by Sherpa
Mingma, because it was now fully dark and there was perhaps three hours of walking
to do, also went down to see what needed to be done.
For the rest of us, the likelihood was that Andy and the
others would not be back until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest so that would
probably rule out any training tomorrow.
Khare
(16,205 feet), 14th October, morning
How early could we expect any news? 9 am? 10 am? These
times came and went. Paul, Nicky and I decided that we might as well get some
exercise by going up the nearby ridge. They choose a better part of it than
I and were soon miles ahead.
I decided to veer to the left where there was a gully
down which a stream ran. I thought I would just cross the stream and climb up
the bank on the other side and get around to the top of the ridge from the side.
Once I had lowered myself into the gully I realised that
the bit I was in was hidden from the sun and was all slippery ice and snow,
while the spray from the stream was still frozen on top of it like a glass roof.
It was its own mini eco-system - as I found out when trying
to climb the vertical gravel/earth bank on the other side, because the sun's
rays had already penetrated this side of the gully, melting the ice in the soil
that bound it together.
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Mera in sunshine - a rarety
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Hardly had I succeeded in slithering down to the
bottom, when news arrived that Lee was coming back. The German doctor
yesterday had confused 'bleeding gums' with 'bleeding lungs'
- which of course would have been very serious.
The English doctor they met in Tagnak had no better
idea what was causing the bleeding, but she hazarded a guess that it was
an altitude sickness symptom. A night's sleep at a lower altitude might
solve the problem and Lee could go back up again in the morning if he
felt well enough.
Lee (now the Leech-Boy-Returned-From-The-Dead)
and Scott appeared straight afterwards, as if on cue. Once the travellers
had had a chance to unpack again and tell their story, Andy wanted to
get us back on course, and glacier training was on the menu for today.
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Halfway up to the glacier Colin did not feel well enough
to continue so I went on alone. By the time I arrived, the others were already
halfway up the glacier (a steep snowfield), so I put on the heavy plastic double-boots
and the harness, and pottered around at the bottom of the glacier sporting my
ice axe.
I felt quite pleased that I had made it up to the glacier
alone. I could feel strength returning, and had a fast journey back down with
Sherpa Gumbo, the newly arrived Climbing Sirdar for our expedition.
For the first trime I could envisage myself getting to
the top of Mera. In fact I wanted just another couple of days to get back to
full fitness. It was not to be.
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At
dinner, Andy came out with astonishing plans.
For various reasons, we were behind schedule. Tomorrow
we would do a double-day hike up to High Camp. The summit attempt would
be early the next morning. Those of us going up to High Camp would share
one kitbag between two people, taking only essentials like sleeping bag
and Thermarest. This would minimise the need for portering. When we came
down we would briefly stop at High Camp for some tea and noodles, then
everybody would come straight back down to Khare.
Colin would stay behind in the camp along with Mingma
and a couple of the porters. For me it depended on the weather, assuming
that I wanted to go up. As he said it, I just knew that the weather
wasn't going to be the deciding factor whether I got to High Camp or not.
It was going to be my call.
It was a bombshell for me, both the double-day hike
and the fact that Colin would not be going up. I didn't feel fully confident
that I was back to full fitness, so a double-day was not what I would
have sought, while I had always imagined that Colin and I would reach
the top after each of us had chivvied and supported the other in turn.
I really didn't know what to feel.
There was one way of throwing it open to chance.
Like most people I had never tasted yak (what is advertised as yak in
the restaurants of Kathmandu is usually water buffalo). Andy had come
across a yak being butchered in his travels down to Tagnak and he had
acquired some. So curried yak was on the menu tonight. Dare I try it?
It might prove too strong fare for a digestion that had been largely meat-free
for the last couple of weeks - or it might give a welcome boost of strength.
It tasted very good, but it would be tomorrow before
my digestion reacted to it or not. I needed to sleep on my decision.
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