Chronicles of Kangchenjunga 6 : Final Push and Giripremi on top of Kangchenjunga

 Camp 4, (7300 m)

Over the last 40 days, we had climbed from lush dense forests & ever pleasing rivers of Hapukhola, Yamphudin to some of the most remote, barren, and hostile terrains of camp 4. The idea of being in such inhospitable place in itself was quite intimidating but this is the last and the most crucial battle ground for a mountaineer. From here begins the final summit push; the outcome of all training efforts, fund raising struggle, and unquenching desire to reach to the top is decided in the next 24-28 hours.

Camp 4 was another huge plateau and in front was her majestic face with a rocky crown scraping the blue skies above. Outside temperature was still below -20s and by night, it was to drop down to -40s. Ahead lied an overwhelmingly tall ascent of final climb. 1300 m. No 8000er offers such a huge height gain. We were yet to tackle its formidable defence. The route through the snow region was visible as our route opener Sherpas had been high up there. They were just a few hours ahead of us. So, the trail was freshly broken. Sherpas were yet to descend. In fact, the route perhaps wasn’t yet opened. Such a tight time bound situation it was. Fate of all 30 climbers and their 30 sherpas was dependant on if they top out or not and come back with good news. Thankfully, by around 2:00 PM, we got a confirmation on walkie talkie, that the route was set for other climbers.

Mountain’s daunting look, and the impregnable ascent route suddenly turned welcoming as the news brought smiles on our faces and a wave of confidence at camp 4. We spent the afternoon, fueling and hydrating ourselves. Sherpas advised us to keep a 500 ml bottle of hot water in the inner pocket of down jacket. This way, we could avoid water freezing. They also advised us to keep the chain half zipped. Generally, moisture from the exhaled air coming out from the Oxygen mask is collected at the bottom of the mask and the water accumulated, keeps dripping on the down jacket. Extreme cold outside, turns the water immediately into ice, thus blocking access to the zip. There had been cases in Giripremi’s Everest expedition in which, climbers could not take out their warm water as they faced this problem. Later when I got a chance to sip a couple of gulps high above 8000 m, I realised how invaluable that last minute tip was!

We were to depart at 5:30 PM. All was set. One by one, climbers got in line and attached their self-anchors to the rope. I was excited. The day had arrived for which I had been waiting for over a year. However, just when I was about to attach my crampons to the boots, one of them dislocated its plates. I was bewildered and tried to fix it unsuccessfully. It didn’t work for next 5-10 minutes. I desperately tried; even Phurba, Tenzing tried their hands, but no luck. I had seen one of the team members leaving the extra crampons at camp 2. I began to sense a terrifying situation I might have to face if the crampon isn’t fixed. I saw Bhushan and Pasang dai, who were still getting ready in their tents. I rushed to them for aid. Finally, after some struggle, Bhushan managed to set my crampon again and I gave a sigh of relief. I had left my crampons, snow-laden right outside the tent. In the evening, it froze. While rubbing off the ice, I had accidently dislocated the crampon. I realised that I should have cleaned the crampons and stored it in dry place when the times were such demanding.

My Climb had finally begun. Phurba right ahead of me. More climbers tied in the rope behind me. As soon as I joined in, I sensed a sudden rush among all climbers. Everyone was hurrying. No one was looking back if their members have joined in or not. Climber and his Sherpa that is what all were concerned. Even the speed was quite fast in the beginning. I found it difficult to cope up with Ashish, who was in front of me.  But within next 15-20 minutes, I paced up and got in sync with the infantry. However, from Phurba’s perspective perhaps, the speed wasn’t adequate. He grabbed my hand, removed my self-anchor, and started dragging me ahead, overtaking other climbers in front. But others began to show some resistance to this overtaking game. When I realised that Anand was just ahead of me, we decided to walk together with 10 steps at a time. By now, Anand, I, Rupesh, and Ashish were in a pack and we decided to walk together from that point onwards. It really gave a feeling of confidence and some assurance of safety when I had seniors around me. Phurba needless to say, was walked right behind me.

The route steepened but the views of clear weather were a promising. From the basecamp, this walk was quite noticeable in clear weather. I thought of Mama, who must have been watching our head torches moving steadily on the face. Meanwhile, we met our route openers. Tired but with faces smiling as they had achieved through exceptional hardships for which, we were to be grateful to them for this life. One by one, our group of 5, overtook maximum climbers. A couple of climbers and their 4-5 Sherpas were now ahead of us by significant distance.

Steepness of the route exhausted many climbers and they began to shift their weights on jumars, which ultimately tautened the rope. Heavy loads of all climbers on single rope could have led to a catastrophic accident. Further, criss-cross nature of the route made jumaring a difficult task to those who were in front. To our chagrin, intermittent rocky sections, were to most difficult to jumar on tensioned ropes.   

Outside air was thin, and it was getting thinner with each step. However, the supplemental Oxygen, made us oblivious of the stark harshness around. I wondered how some mountaineers climb without Oxygen; as a matter of fact, better question was ‘Why’. Depleted Oxygen levels can cause permanent damage to brain cells, severely affecting cognitive and memory processes. At times, due to inadequate Oxygen, there is a high chance of occurrence of diseases like frostbite. Had mountaineering been the sole purpose of one’s life, and if its affordable to sacrifice the loss of grey cells, its okay to attempt without supplemental Oxygen within the frame of safety. However, I don’t feel any wrong or a sense of inferiority in not using it. In fact, this is a the most vital equipment one must use it to ensure safe departure.  There is no point, nor any pride in losing even a toe or a finger for a summit, let alone life.

We took a short break to sip water. Toes began to feel numb and hands were freezing despite mittens. Mittens at times, would stick to the metal part of the jumar, ripping its outer layer. Many a times, mittens would remain dangled to the jumar and hands would come out. Had it accidently fell off the jumar, retreat, if not a casualty, was all but certain. Additionally, chances of metal bite were quite likely in case the skin touches the metal.

Rocky skeletons of the top were now quite clearly visible as we were about to enter its labyrinth. However, we could by no way guess which way the route would go. In absence of fixed ropes, it was easy for a first timer to get lost. After around 5-6 hours, we began to traverse through the hard snow and approached a large rocky patch where we changed our Oxygen Cylinders. From here, Anand, I and Ashish were walking like one unit. Phurba was with us, other members and Sherpas followed.    

I thought of what might be going in Mama’s mind. He had been in similar situation back in 2012 when 11 climbers were heading for Everest. But then, three had to quit above camp 4, due to malfunctioning of Oxygen masks. Would anything similar happen this time? Our team carried three extra masks as back up, learning from past experiences. Would the history change this time? Could all ten of his men make it to the top? Papa too would have been awake and must have been thinking about my progress. His son was to make him a proud father. Later he told that, whole night he was awake, waiting to hear good news. My mother must have arrived in KTM after completing her Annapurna base camp trek… performing her prayers for my success and safe return.

 

 

Soon we entered into rocky terrain, from where began one of the most terrifying and excruciating ascents in the history of Giripremi. First big hurdle was brown chimney. A narrow 20-25 feet high rock chimney was named after Joe Brown, one of the first summitters of Kangchenjunga on 25^th May 1955. It reminded me of references of ‘House’s Chimney’ from my readings on K2 (world’s second highest mountain in Karakoram range) climb. It was named after Bill House, who in 1938 American K2 expedition, climbed 100 ft chimney freely. Though the expedition wasn’t a success but in that first expedition itself, they had managed to have a substantial reconnaissance of the mountain and had reached above 24000 ft.  In case of Joe Brown, he along with George Band topped out, becoming the first to climb Kangchenjunga. It was a moment of honour to follow those legendary mountaineers’ footsteps.

My hands were utterly cold, and I couldn’t feel my toes. I tried to hit harder on the snow as I walked. Fear of frost bite loomed over my head. No signs of Om Moral. A landmark, where it is said that a climber name Om Moral had bivouacked. From here the summit was around 2 hrs away. The rock & ice, a mix climbing above 8000 m, was excruciating. Rock walls on left side and over 10000 ft drop on one side. We were inching on a thin line that guaranteed life. It was the most ideal weather any ascent would ever have; additionally, I was with a group of best men of Giripremi; Phurba was my shadow. Though so much of comfort and assured blissfulness in their company, the climb was a nerve wrecking ordeal and the terrain was unbelievably daunting. I was annoyed, scared to be honest, but that’s what needed here. Each step I took firmly and cautiously. There was a point where my confidence was badly shaken. While crossing a difficult patch, I tried to step but fumbled desperately as I couldn’t reach to the foot hold. I checked my self-anchor & jumar well attached with the rope, left foot firmly anchored in a safe. Beneath my torso was a bottomless valley, and my right foot was hanging over, in a frightful search of a foothold. I retreated. Never in my life I was so scared. I gasped for a breath. Anand had just crossed the step. I observed the step again; gathered my courage and in the second attempt I crossed it. I badly wanted to see the summit and go back to the safe zone of basecamp. For a moment I felt like where the hell I had ventured into. But the thoughts of all the efforts, support and wishes of many, Mama’s, aai- pappa’s faith in me resurfaced and gave me courage to march further.

However, I must confess, such thoughts of retreat had never come to my mind and in that very moment, I didn’t try to hush them either. In fact, I let myself soak into those precarious moments so that the complacency would never creep in me ever. I recalled that old adage – ‘It doesn’t matter how good you are – In the mountains, just when you think you are in control, you aren’t.’  

One after the other we kept crossing the rocky steps. Later Bhushan, Anand confessed, that on Everest, there is just one Hillary step, here on Kangchenjunga there were over 20 such steps.

3:00 AM Om Moral.

We didn’t know where we had arrived. Nor even Phurba could identify of our whereabouts. After crossing Om Moral, there was a u- turn. We climbed a few steps and we realised as if we were approaching the highest point. Because from distance, nothing specific could be seen ahead but a skyline. I screamed, in a slightly triumphant manner, ‘The summit!?’ Sounded as if we reached summit. There was an excitement but anxiety as well. In front was skyline indeed; but darkness deceived me and a towering rocky face to our right gradually revealed its invincibility. me from Reality struck so hard upon me. This huge rock wall meant assured walk of 2 more hrs to summit. We kept going. While walking, I admired route openers for such amazingly safe rope fixing. At certain steep places, they had fixed double ropes; so that one could be used to jumar while the other grab with mittens to pull up on those steep slopes. Anchors were so firmly placed that despite so many of us loading the rope at a time, anchors were unimpeded.    

The blue sky began to gradually glimmer, shading off the frightening darkness, but it exposed- a long obscure rocky traverse with petrifying drops that required complex manoeuvring. Difficulty of that section invited unpleasing traffic above 8400 m. Spending too much of a time at one place wasn’t affordable. Everyone was hurrying as vital Oxygen was also getting wasted. Soon we cleared the rocky section and finally reached a peculiar rocky ledge. The summit stood just 5 minutes away. Anand and I, holding each other’s hands walked those 10 steps together till we saw what was perhaps the most awe-amazing moment in our lives. Anand after, Everest, made his second successful 8000er ascent while mine was a maiden! Within hardly 12 hrs, we had scaled 1300 m, largest of the summit push on any 8000er!  Outburst of red, orange, yellow, and blue across the mighty sky, as sun shone brightly welcoming us warmly with his thousand arms at the top. I bowed before the summit and prayed to her for allowing me to be there. I thanked in my mind to all those who made it possible for me to reach there. I waved the tricolour as it unfurled with the winds of triumph, happiness, gratitude, faith. Mama was thrilled to hear me reaching so early to the top. I thought of aai-pappa. How ecstatic would they be at that moment!

Soon everyone showed up. Giripremi’s all ten climbers made it to the top. A historic moment in the History of Giripremi and India’s mountaineering was being recorded.

As for me, truth be told, I didn’t cry out of emotional outburst, nor was I in a celebrational mood. I had thought that it might happen to me, especially when such a hard chased dream had finally blossomed into a reality. I think, the feeling of job being half done was still lingering in my mind.

(It only felt content first, when I reached camp 4, secondly at basecamp when Mama hugged me and commended with his proud words, and thirdly when I saw aai-pappa & Vaishnavi waiting outside Pune airport.)

I was extremely happy and proud of what I had done so far. But the reality struck me with its brutal stick again. My numbness of toes was so much that I could not recognize their existence; fingers felt as though they were frozen; a glimpse at hordes of climbers still ascending the treacherous rocky terrains, warned me of challenges in my descend and potential delay in reaching camp 4. I quickly captured a 360 video, couple of photos as a proof to authenticate my ascent (It is sad to say that you may be asked to prove your summit authenticity. Thanks to the wicked and selfish minded ones, who for their personal advancements, have submitted morphed photographs) and started walking down. Others asked me to wait for a while but out of sheer fright of frostbite, I hesitated sternly and literally began to run down. At Om Moral, I changed my Oxygen Cylinder. The descend through the rocks was trickier than ascent. However, while ascending, I had anticipated that danger and so was prepared. Though I hurried, I made it a point to stay alert and anchored. I knew that old adage- most of the accidents occur while descending. Within surprise 4 hours, I was at camp 4.

Bhagwan and his Sherpas were at Camp 4 already. Bhagwan’s Oxygen mask had malfunctioned. He had to retreat from 8200 m. He asked Mama if he should reattempt that evening. Looking at the changing weather pattern and hostility of the mountain, Mama advised that it wasn’t safe to go alone. Such a strong climber, alas, the destiny has its own ways, we humans can’t challenge.

He offered me warm water and congratulated me for the summit. By now, the sun was bright up in the sky and my toes had begun to feel inside my shoes. Still I checked them thoroughly to confirm absence of any disease. I was perfect. I thought if I should be regretting to have not taken good memories up there, but then again, the thought -I gave preference to most important aspect of the expedition- safety first, than the secondary ones- summit, and fun, contented me and I entered inside my tent, tucked in half open sleeping bag.

With eyes closed, I reminisced vivid memories from the top. First sight of Nepali Flag at the top; Anand and I, holding hands together reaching the top and waving India flag; one by one entire Giripremi team on the verge of creating a historic moment; slogans of ‘Bharat Maata ki Jay! Vande Mataram!’ reverberating across both, Nepal and India; and nonetheless, I was safe, alive, and entire, back at camp 4, with a picturesque glimpse of Everest- Lhotse in background, firmly ingrained on my heart.