KARAKORAM, SEPTEMBER 2001“I’ve never been so tired and exhausted and cold… my toes were numb, my ears and fingers were frozen… Hell, my whole body was stiff and frozen as I walked blindly in this unforgiving blizzard. Visibility is just 3-5 meters, sometimes as lucky as 15, and my freakin’ eyeglasses keeps on fogging up so I couldn’t see a damn thing ! It’s almost 5 hours since I left K2 Basecamp, and I’m nearing my 11th hour of trekking for this day (was doing a day assault of the basecamp). Hypothermia seems to be my Murphy twin-brother today, and I felt that, if I trip and fall, I’ll just stay down and sleep…. and rest …. in peace - that is, if I don’t sort myself out and mentally fight the physical strain. I thought of regretting my decision to move on - - the British guy, our strongest member, decided to turn back after less than 2 hours of trekking, when he forecasted (correctly) that there would be a whiteout in the basecamp. My French teammate also decided to stay camped since the day before. Only 4 of us - - the crazy and stubborn ones – pursued . Well, I needed to take some risk and finish this thing. Anyway, my 3 assault teammates had gone ahead of me, much way ahead, heading South to first base-camp, where paradise is: hot drinks, hot food, sleeping bag, warmer clothes.
A day before, I had diarrhea for eating an energy bar, wasn’t able to eat good breakfast (what’s new), and can’t eat lunch as well (when I’m so tired, I can’t eat), and since I thought I felt warm with my thin layers of clothing (shell, double thermals, and thin fleece - - no Down), I thought I could fight cold and wind - -Surprise… there’s white-out today, snow and strong steady wind, and Oh, didn’t the weatherman warned you?!! Hah ! I’ll kill him when I get back… or probably my ghost will. Imagine this is 5400 meters (almost 18000ft)…snow, ice, blizzard, moraine, glacier, Hello ?!!
Yep I’m dead tired and wrecked and frozen as a popsicle, but luck seems to favor the good boys as in my 11th hour of walking, I saw clearing sky to where I was heading, and yep, no more blizzard, just snow-covered trails … Adrenalin pump went full-power as I saw red and yellow objects… Yes, Yep, Yeah … those were TENTS, hooorraaay !!! huhuhu, hahaha, I’m alive, I’m safe, I’ll make it back after all, it’s the end of my misery! It’s like seeing green trees, and yellow birds, and rushing water in a clear stream! It’s paradise found, I finally made it back to Concordia… the first basecamp, my home sweet home in this God-forsaken place.”
***
Godwin-Austin Peak, or more popularly known as “K2”, is the 2nd highest mountain (8611m) but the toughest mountain to climb. It is said that the death rate of K2 is 1 out of 3 who made it on top, compared to Everest (the highest) of 1 out of 6. K2 got its name from the old survey and expedition map with numbered peaks. The Map of course covers Karakoram (“K”) and the peaks where numbered 1,2,3… so on. Godwin-Austin was marked “K2” (Karakoram #2 peak), and so the name. Movies such as “K2” and “Vertical Limits” popularized this mountain, it’s an “It-is-there-and-let-it-be” to fun hikers, it’s “Dream can’t come true” for medium class climbers…. And it’s the most dreadful challenge “Try and Die” to the most serious aspiring elite mountaineers.
Since I’m a tadpole-class mountaineer, I’ll do K2 half-half, Hit the basecamp, and dream the rest =) hehehe.
Day –4
Pakistan is to the northwest of India and to the east of Afghanistan. It’s part of the Indian subcontinent, which slammed into the Asia mainland (and still moving north) forming the greatest mountain range of our planet, the Himalayas. Everest is in the Eastern Himalayas, and K2 is in Karakoram mountain range of Western Himalaya. A few of the fourteen (14) 8000-meter peaks on this planet are here in Karakoram, 8000m is the ‘death zone’ altitude, you need O2 to survive (with exceptions of some gifted and crazy climbers like Messner-the-conqueror). Flying from Philippines via PIA (Pakistan Intl) should be easy as you’ll only have one stop-over (Karachi, south of Pakistan). My target city is Islamabad (up north, Karakoram is further north) and due to some schedule conflict, I have to fly SQ going in, and Cathay escaping back (I realized later the value of using the word ‘escaping’, this was Sep/2001) . I had to fly and land, fly and land,…like a blood-thirsty mosquito just to haul my self to Islamabad. Bangkok, then Karachi, then Lahore (East Pakistan), then on to Islamabad. Four stop-overs, more chance of losing baggage…and the much needed patience.
Karachi and Lahore were scary by normal standards, Security personnel in airport all carried auto-sub machine guns, and all Pakistanis looked like your regular movie villain-terrorist, and the language and noise, the hairy face, sunken eyes, & long nose features amongst men, and the traditional kamis-shalwal attire amongst locals all spice up your day to think your about to be mugged and hit. No offense dudes, its just a movie thing, like the Jaws. I have my own safety measures though, I’ve grown my beard and moustache to a pathetic 1cm long, like the young Indonesian or Malaysian Muslim visiting Saudi, I could probably blend in. I can speak a bit of Bahasa Indonesia, and I know the Harams, Sure …
Day –3
Trekking parts of the Karakoram is not as easy as the tourist spots in Nepal Himalayas (ex. Annapurna or Khumbu). All climbing trips are ‘expedition style’, simply means you have to carry all your supplies and equipment (no re-supply). We’re talking about around 16 days of outdoor activity, so you would need a big support team. Unless, of course you’re willing to carry 50+kg of weight in your backpack. We’re a team of four according to our Guide… one British, one American, and a French. The Australian apparently missed his connecting flight from Bangkok to Karachi. “Yeah right, Phuket and Samui are irresistible temptations, we understand , go and have fun chap !”
I met up with Mr. France in Islamabad and flown with him north, to Skardu, our jump-off city. We saw a group of UN volunteers loading medic supplies in their plane, they’re on their way to then-Taliban-ruled Afghanistan. I didn’t see one smiling face, probably just a job that needs to be done. I hoped those guys made it back safely. Our plane was just a small twin-engine 40-something-seater. We took the right-hand window seats to hopefully have a good glimpse of the peaks. We stayed 1 night in one camping resort, did a village walk to kill time, and to acclimatize to 3000m altitude, enjoyed great stories of Great Killer Yeti slaughtering Ibex and Yaks (yep, it’s in Karakoram where they found the footprints), learned traditional Village culture - - which is not so much as foreigners can’t do much talking and mingling with the locals, especially with women even if they’re wrapped up like suman from head to toe. Geez I was not even allowed to take pictures of them, well… I did, candidly…
Day –2
The other 2 members showed up in our camp, they’ve just finished a short acclimatizing trekking trip, Fairy Meadows I heard (locals believed there were fairies there), it offers an outstanding view of the killer mountain Nanga Parbat (another popular 8000+m peak). These guys look pretty fit and very lively, which was good for much needed moral boost, said they’ve been to Kilimanjaro a year ago, and that they’re planning another trip to this and that… tada..da..da.. And so the regular stranger-to-stranger-to-acquaintance type of socializing … I later learned that the British guy was a marathoner of Des Sables in Sahara, and he’s 80th out of 700 competitors – Wow!. Geez, that’s 147mile marathon in the steaming desert of Sahara, and the normal marathon length is just 26miles. One tough hombre indeed.
Equipment check time. We went over our checklist like old Santa checking naughty and nice. Nice list includes all the proper gear and supplies, we dumped the ‘naughty’ ones (shavers, extra clothes, cd players, refrigerator, condoms, penthouse, etc.). We assembled two sets of packs, one for our porters and the 12-kg something for ourselves. We needed to reserve the energy and strength for the basecamp and the high-pass crossing, so why punish ourselves carrying everything. Food supplies and equipment were carried by porters. Each at least carry 30kg of weight, wow! That’s easy for a 3-4 day trip, but not on a trip that extends to 10days plus. The Pakistani Govt has this 25-kg load restriction for porters (excluding their personal stuffs), for health and safety chuchu.. In Nepal, I saw porters carrying ~80kg of load (I saw a group of porters carrying four pieces of 4-meter log each !!!).
We checked harnesses and carabs. Then we fitted crampons, mine was the standard no-class and rotten 10-point crampon, full strap-type. My worn-out boots is not clamp-type compatible so this suits me fine. We acquired an ice axe each, maybe we can play with ice and snow and build igloo or giant ice castles or something. Mine was a hybrid, not too techy as we’ll only need it badly for the Pass. …… And so we’re set.
Day –1
We load our stuff in the jeep, hauled ourselves over desert and mountains and miles and miles of dirt road, towards the last livable settlement, the start of our trek, the start of our much-anticipated misery - Askoli.
We set camp past 3pm, overlooking a river. The place was full of hostile-looking locals, and the place is not for the regular seasoned traveler - - very dirty with dunk everywhere, yuck! Not a good place to relax, just a place to stay for the nite, a place to psyche up for the next 14 days of affair with the spirits of Karakoram.
I saw how our cook prepared the meal, and realized that they don’t eat chicken skin, they remove the whole bunch of it with the feathers, just like any 4-legged animal. Not sure if that’s something cultural, or lack of dressing technique. O well, save the arteries from bad cholesterol, I guess. It’s not too cold here anyway, just probably 3 or 5C above zero - - not too cold to burn those fatty choles.
On the way to campsite, we stopped at one village to buy a goat. Yep, no need to refrigerate or pre-cook, just carry it alive, and slaughter it later for food ! How barbaric. Yeah right, I eat goats, they’re good. No pork in this country, remember ?! The Japanese platoon bought a whole Yak (half-cow breed) for them, must be good for Yak-I-Sushi.
Day 1: Askoli - Korophone
Well…talk about the well-pampered lazy tourists, we’re them. My first experience to travel in a so-called “expedition-style”, but with the added bonus of a dedicated cook who will do the chores for you. Hey, we’re like hotel guests. Just wake up, wash with some warm water, crash into the mess tent and spend your so-called outdoor life eating hot porridge, omelette, chipati, and hot coffee and tea. O-ha! Sosyal !!
Hike started, and I just realized we’re a one big caravan. Just four of us ‘guests’, and a support crew of 16 porters, 1 cook, 1 guide. I heard the Japanese team of 20 had 90 porters! Amazing view as you see them stroll like ants from afar, all carrying their tidbits of something for the rainy day ahead.
The Australian team, 6 of them, had 3 porters each, and 1 guide. They’ll do the cooking, and the hard part of managing porters. I heard stories that those who didn’t utilize an Outfitter service ended up being abandoned by porters when the going gets tough (hey, porters don’t have Goretex and Vibram soles and all, very traditional wear with old smelly pair of shoes). Tourists have less control over these guys than the Operators who could penalize them by not hiring them on future trips. This was September, and winter will start soon, more chance of early winter snow and blizzard - - and more chance of being abandoned by much needed support crews.
It’s hot (and cold) in this arid land, took us 5 hours of ‘warm-up’ hike before reaching the camp. I tried to adjust my pace several times, I ended up being faster than I should and I immediately felt the physical fatigue forcing me to punch myself up with a paracetamol. It’s a bit of a high-altitude problem I guess. But not as bad as my Kilimanjaro and Annapurna trips. I realized that the American’s and British’s pace were fast for me, Mr. France’s walk was too moon-ly on the other hand (he’s ~43), I have to be somewhere 3rd along the long line of trailers. Probably just behind our beloved walking kebab, the Goat. We’re talking about ~160km of looong walk here, finding the right pace is critical so as not to injure, or exhaust yourself too soon.
The campsite was ideal, it’s nestled between the Indus river fork, it’s a marsh land, with plenty of water supply, nice baby pine trees, green & clean, and some good view of nearby mountains.
Day 2: Korophone – Skam Tsok
This is probably the easiest day. Just ~4 hours, still hot and sunny, but my Eyejacket Oakley and wide-brim Pitman desert hat did the job of providing artificial shade and comfort. Not so much altitude gain, the walk along the river line was actually a bit boring as you see the same thing again and again…. brown arid mountains to the left (north), river to the right, goats and porters everywhere. We’re heading East towards the end of the river, along Baltoro, past the glacier, and to the ‘glacier intersection’ where the fearsome ghosts of 8000-meter peaks of Karakoram hunt for the weary and weakling climbers.
Amazing how the locals live in this great outdoors, no tents! They have this ‘Shepperd hut’ which were nothing but piles of stones, about 3 feet high, 4 walls, with a gap in 1 wall for the invisible door, at night they build fire, and cover the whole thing with big waterproof plastic or vinyl material , and that’s it. I learned that in survival training, but I’m not about to spend my next 10 days or so living in a cold hard ground, we have the four-lettered magic word… t-e-n-t !
Day 3: Skam Tsok - Paiju
It was another uneventful, long, hot, sunny, and goaty day. “ Mwe-e-e-e-e..” said the goat, thanking that the long hike was over, and probably anticipating its own holocausts. Around 5 hours of hiking, not bad I guess. Campsite is huge, there’s a river 20mins down where we can bathe (sure, with that temp?) and wash clothes --(we normally just carry 2 trekking shirts, 2 shorts or trek-pants, - - no undies for me) and wash the used one every 3 or 4 days (when possible). I don’t have rubbing alcohol that we normally used to masked the bad smell, so sometimes I used Bengey, nice and cool menthol scent, works best for the smelly foot after wearing the same double-layered socks everyday for 3-4 days. Escusi moi, but that’s life in the outdoors. =) Well here, I bathed, with my ice-hard and ice-cold Ivory soap. I hoped it’s really bio-degradable, as I used it both for bathing and washing (didn’t bother bringing two sets of soaps….. that’s extra gram of weight).
There were 2 sets of hole-in-the-ground type of toilet, far from the campsite. And a clear sign begging porters to use those latrines. Geez, these guys dump everywhere. Just like how their ancestors do it centuries ago. No Change. I didn’t see anyone carrying tissue, “wiper-leaves”, or washing water at all. Hmmm… at least they’re consistent in using their right hand for eating chapatti, and the left hand for.…well, you know.
Paiju was a party place, teams stay here for at least 1 day to acclimatize. Big crowd, hundreds of porters everywhere, big tents for the big groups with big cooking tents with big stoves and huge pots on it! Well, they can cook the whole Yak in there, so why be surprised. I wish I could mingle and sample the diverse delicacies. Food smells good as you pass by each mess tents. And I miss seeing female tourists… among the hundred crowd, I only saw 2 women (and 5 elderly Japanese women). This is a tostesterone-dominated country if you will recall.
There were singing and partying below our campsite. Some group, who were on their way back were of course, celebrating, especially porters as it’s nearing pay and baksheesh time. We of course tried to get as much info as possible, such as, if it’s already snowing in Gondogora La, if there were any avalanche, etc. We didn’t hear much good news as one group stayed for several days in Concordia and didn’t even have one, single glimpse of K2. Spending so much for the vacation without meeting the objective, well, that’s life. We also heard rumors that thick snow clouds has started gathering south of Concordia, not good news either as my team was planning to cross the technical Gondogoro La (traverse south), and then travel back west to our jump-off. It’s not so interesting to walk the same place over again, so going back on a different route is a more ideal option.
Day 4: Paiju
This day is acclimatization day. Either you stay in camp and mingle about, or “climb high, sleep low” - - an acclimatization technique that expedites adjustments of the body to thin air. The idea is to breath thinner air at higher altitude during day time, and then sleep at lower altitude, with a relatively thicker air. Only the British guy and myself did the acclimatization climb, we separately attempted to reach the ridge of Paiju, we gained +2000ft before realizing that we were so dumb not to notice that the last section was a very technical climb, requiring proper ascending and safety devices. The ground was loose, the slope very steep, and if you make one slip, you would be back in the campsite in less than 30seconds (and this was a +3 hours of rock scrambling climb-up stunt). I soon regretted not bringing my trekking poles or my knee braces. On the way down, since it was so steep, my knees took all the toll, so guess what - - I badly sprained both my knees, giving me a memory-comeback spank that I have history injuries on both joints. Damn! This was just day 4, and I just gave Mr. Murphy a chance to take me out of the playing court. How could I be that stupid! Recall this was a multi-day trip, and a simple (mine was not simple, I could feel the pain when I bend knees) injury could have exponential catastrophic effect as you walk and trek every single day of the remainder of your trip. Geez, should I quit ?! Or risk being a liability to my team? One member of the all-Australian team decided to go back with one porter so as not to slow down his group, but his injury was worse than mine. My worry was that, I’m not sure if I would be able to recover the bad knees before attempting Basecamp and Gondogoro La crossing – both were very demanding tasks. If I turn back at Concordia, I would be trekking extra 4-5 days (assuming I could walk properly) with probably just 1 porter. Not a very pleasant thought. I just hoped that the Pakistani Army have a standby helicopter, assuming my Blue Cross Insurance works as I couldn’t afford a 3000-US$ chopper ride. I didn’t want my teammates to worry, but I have to tell them anyway, told them I would ‘test hike’ for the next 2 days, and see if it gets better, if not, then sorry – I have to turn back. They were a bit worried for me of course, but the Am-dude kept giving me encouraging remarks, which is good. That’s the benefit of having a team with you, to give you the much needed moral boost.
Well, I only have the knees to worry about - - not like the goat and the yak, who have now turned to kebabs and sushi. =)
Day5: Paiju – Urdukas
I strapped my knees with braces, tightened them to max tolerable. I was psyched up and very determined to reach Basecamp, I have trashed the turn-back option and pumped my adrenalin hard to keep me on the go-go. Good thing the Shaolin monks popularized the use of trekking stick, as I have to rely heavily on my poles to lessen the weight and torture for the knees. I was way behind the team, and I was gaining altitude, and the terrain was not as pleasant as the first 3 days. It’s rolling up, up and down, up, up and down. We reached the landslide-base campsite. (Gee – I sure did hope those big rocks up there don’t roll down on us, I already have the knees to worry about). I was surprised that my knees did well, yes I was slow, but my pace is just right. Well I arrived a bit late, around 5pm, but at least I was fine and could still walk for the next day.
I enjoyed the small chat with one local staying near my tent, amazing that they only ate Chapatti bread and curry sauce. Just that, for the entire trip. They usually just bring 2 sets of clothes, 1 extra thick jacket or blanket, salt, flour and curry powder. That’s it! I hoped I’ll have the chance to take them out to Megamall foodcourt so I could show them that there’s a whole lot of other munchies available out there. They would probably freak out and have a heart attack when they see an endless array of real chows.
Day 6: Urdukas – Goro II
Start of misery. Moraine trails - - loose, gravel-ly, hard trails. Geez! Too bad I was only wearing soft-soled boots (even Vibram have soft-soles). The Brit and the Am were already suffering from blisters (even with the 2 layered socks), and this trail just spice that up some more. Ouch ouch! We each have our own small world of worries. The Frenchi has turned into a snail, inching his way to the next campsite, he didn’t expect the long hard walks of Baltoro. (He’s been to Khumbu region, Nepal 5 times, but that was tea-house trekking and with relatively soft trails , Baltoro was not as friendly). We probably both felt the slight effect of high altitude (hey I was also exhausted and my heart was pumping big time), but I have the bonus of worrying about the knees.
On the other hand, the trail to Goro II campsite offers superb and outstanding view of Trango group of towers (one of which was bagged by the Lowe team featured in National Geographic magazine), the glacier (since it’s constantly moving downward) has formed several interesting pop-up chunks of ice, some as tall as us, some stands 4-6 meters. It’s like a flat sea, with big jumping white dolphins - - that got stuck on the way up, frozen.
Some trails have the freaky crevasse, scary but at least they were easy to spot, and evaded.
Goro II campsite has a splendid view of Gasherbrum IV to the East (another popular 8000m peak), and west of the campsite is an Army base, not sure if the Indians or the Chinese will be interested to visit and conquer this place. It’s just too damn cold and unlivable.
The campsite looks gray and moraine-ny, but I was surprised to find out that just 3 inches of scratching ground and rocks, I found thick ICE. The whole campsite is ICE with gravel and rock surface decoration. Ahh, that’s why they call it a Glacier. Crazy me!
Day 7: Goro II – Concordia
Exciting day, we were told this was our first chance of glimpse of K2. Weather was very promising, clear blue sky, I could see all the peaks around me. Plus, my knees were ok – magic ! I have probably absorbed the Glucosamine Sulfate from the Brit just by talking to him about knee cure and joint strengthening tips (he’s an extreme desert marathoner if you recall). Earlier in the day, we experienced a snowfall, but thankfully, it didn’t last more than 30 mins. There was a bit of snow clouds to the southeast, but generally, a very promising clear blue sky. I walked , evading big chunks of glacier ice popping up like whales, skirting crevasses, and yes… kept looking North to hopefully see the most dreadful 8000-meter peak of all, with my own very eyes.
And they’re right, it was there … K2 !!!! K2 !!!! I was panicking and jumping like a horny monkey, scrambling to get my camera off my top-load. Ka-tsak ! Ka-tsak ! hah! Just seeing K2 already made my day, belay that - - It made my entire year !! I saw the pix in different magazines, but the awe and aura of the real thing was indescribable! Humbling ! Enchanting! Powerful ! I stood there for about a million minutes - - mesmerized, amazed, and Challenged ! (Could I climb that thing ?! sure, dream on dude).
I didn’t quite rest the first few hours I was in Concordia, as I have to cherish this rare moment of seeing K2 in full view, with very minimal, unobstructing clouds near its peak (and I could see the cloud jetstream, probably it was 100knotts of wind up there, unforgiving indeed). You can see smiles on each face, even the locals who have been here before. Heard one local guide has been here 5 times and this was his first time to see K2 in its naked and clear form. We were lucky.
Concordia is the vortex of the great glaciers and like the midpoint of a several majestic 8000-m peaks in Karakoram…. Gasherbrum I, II, IV to the Northeast, Broad Peak to North Northeast, K2 to my North and some similarly humbling 7000m peaks (Mitre peak to the Southwest, Snow Dome in Southeast). This place is a WOW !
There was one bad news though, we were just told that there was an avalanche in Gondogora La 2 days earlier. And all standby rescue and government support teams were already pulled out - - it was an early winter shutdown, and nobody was allowed to cross the high Pass. Damn! We just lost one of the 2 major challenges of this trip, we all felt bombed, while all the porters were smiling big time. O well, that’s life… at least we can still go to Basecamp. (I just hate going back the same way and not being able to traverse and see new places… “This sucks!”).
The next day was a big day, we were suppose to rest but given the deteriorating weather conditions, we have to grab every good opportunity to hit basecamp. At late afternoon though, snow came in. Then blizzard, and howling wind. In an instant, all the colorful array of tents and tarps had metamorphed into white cotton. “This is NOT good !!”
We just hoped and prayed it would be a clear day tomorrow. Meanwhile, we partied and eat popcorns, exchange bullshit stories, and psyche ourselves up for the hike next day. Well, not for the French guy, he already decided to give himself the much needed rest and forgo basecamp. Too bad I thought.
Day 8: Concordia (5300m)
“I’m…. drea-ming of a white….Christmaaaaasss….”. I woke up from my dream, checked my watch (06:15), unzip my Down sleeping bag, zip up the tent door, and hoped for the good news …. Shit! White-out. Today is not-good day, we couldn’t even see 100 meters ahead, no K2 view, NADA ! It was just all white.
We just shouted at each other to confirm that we’ll stay put, must be –15C outside, everybody just wanted to stay with their beloved wives (sleeping bags) and grab more sleep. Why wake up early, today is No-Go day anyway.
We had late breakfast, played with snow (not much to do), did bird watching who where snatching chapatti remnants from the porters’ hut, had fun with those protruding glacier ice structures with our ice axes … well, it was generally a good relaxing day, even with the frequent hard snowfall.
I devoured 2 energy bars, the one I’ve been saving for the toughest day. I checked the labels and ingredient items before I packed it, it didn’t say ‘milk’ or ‘lactose’. But after 2 hours, I already felt the dreadful reaction.. I re-checked the packaging, and was shocked to see ‘Whey’ in the ingredient list. Oh doom-on-me time again!! How could I’ve missed that! I have high intolerance to lactose, milk, dairies, whey, whatever you call them. I was in the middle of a cold hell, and was about to hike the Basecamp, and the last thing I want to do was to weaken and punish myself. I just gave myself a dose of poison - - and the much hated diarrhea. Can you imagine doing a dump in a cold late-September with steady freezing winds (snow droplets travels horizontally). This is Concordia, no toilet huts around here, just big rocks and ice where you can hide. My poor butt was literally frozen. I felt there were icy-cles already forming in my butt cheeks as I do my power-bar business. (And huhuhu, I have to do it 3 times at least, one at night around 10pm… Brrrrrrr). Can I sue those companies manufacturing these goods, for not properly labeling their stuff with something like.. “not for the lactose-intolerant whiners ” ?!
Day 9: K2 Basecamp (5400m) – back to Concordia
“Wake up, Wake up, klang klang klang klang !!!” It was the cook, banging a pot in his head. We all unzipped our bivys and tents and found out what the good news was, we could see a third of K2 and there was no snowfall !! We already decided the day earlier to hit the trail even with this not-so-clear view. We’ll just hope to have better weather as we walk. Tan..ta..ran..tan… talk about your funny animation when mr. Coyote panicked while his tail is burning, as he run here and there shouting, crying, doing every possible thing to put out the fire. Well, we were just like that as we scramble hurriedly to prepare ourselves for the trek, this was adrenalin pumping - - out of excitement, out of the fear to lose an opportunity to reach basecamp (what’s with the basecamp anyway guys ?!?!).
This was just a day assault, so we carried very minimal supplies. Just biscuits and tuna for lunch, 1 litter bottle of water (there should be flowing streams along the way, hopefully not frozen-over yet). It would be warm as I trekked (so I thought) so I only wore double-thermals and thin fleece and my M-dry Millet Shell jacket, of course I brought along balaclava or ski mask (fleece) and thick Down gloves, had my shades on (wasn’t able to bring snow goggles) so as not to acquire snow blindness, and I only wore my quick-dry trekking pants (hehehe, it’s not even windproof) - - well at least I have gaiters over my boots. By ideal standard, I brought significantly less-than-required winter clothing - - so what?! I only had mild hypothermia;) well, lesson learned. Well, actually I should be fine if I was able to force myself to swallow some amount of calorie-rich chow. But that’s always my problem, I find it hard to eat. (Much more if I try to swallow chunks of butter ! - - In Greenland, expedition members consume ~100g of butter everyday to fight cold).
That @$%# candy bar was also a real menace, caused me dehydration and depleted my energy reserves. Ok..ok.. Truth was, I was just trying to find several excuses why I felt so weak and miserable in my basecamp assault. . ;)
Interesting to have observed how ice formed inside my Nalgene water bottle, even when I was on the move. And every time a took a gulp, some ice formed on the sides and top lacerated through my throat, I even chewed some chunks like Twin popsies. ;)
After the first hour of laborious hiking on thick snow, it started to snow hard. Visibility drops to 50 meters (and getting worse), and K2 disappeared from site. A few million ticks after, the British chap just stopped on his track (he was leading), looked up, silently cursed something, turned back without saying a single word. We all looked dumb-struck at each other, shrugged, then moved on …. That left me, the Am-dude, and 2 Pakistanis in the assault.
Long sections of Godwin-Austin Glacier were immaculate-white with no moraine-dirt. I actually enjoyed walking along this thick ice, and from time to time I would step into thin ice sinking my boots and leg to as deep as 1.5 feet. At least it was not a crevasse.
I was the weakling snail in this group, the American was probably 1 to 1.5 hours ahead (to and back). We reached basecamp early afternoon, no welcoming trumpet sound, just howling wind and Christmas snow. It was not like what I’ve expected, some basecamps have prayer flags everywhere, and trash from past expeditions - - here, it was gloomy and deserted, like no one has been there for decades. It did have etched-slobs near the base-wall, to honor and respect the dead climbers.
As I went near Concordia in the late afternoon, I saw a big smiling face from the Brit guy, and was greeted by a warm hug from one of the porters. The Brit, I guess, was somehow envious and regretful for not reaching the Basecamp even with nothing-to-see weather condition. After all, we were there to do something, not just to see something. If you recall there was this blind mountaineer who’ve reached the top of Everest, his greatest accomplishment and fulfillment in life… and he didn’t see one single view (obviously), but he has been there, to ‘feel’ and experience it. - -There’s a lot more in life, than just seeing things.
I was sick when I reached camp, gulped 2 paracetamol tabs, (still couldn’t eat), drunk lots of hot fluids, and rested like there’s no tomorrow. Funny that the French who was sharing my tent, gave me a hard elbow strike in my ribs during his middle-of-the-night pee-break, ooouucch.. that hurts! Said he thought I was dead or something as my whole face has turned blue, maybe some Smurfs just played joke on me.
Day 10: back to Urdukas
Still feeling a bit sick so I’ve decided to reduce my load to a few kg, utilizing the much-re-charged porter strength (they never visited the Basecamp anyway). It was relatively easier going back as you reduce altitude. It’s actually my favorite -- as you’ve already done what you came here for, you’re anticipating rest and celebration, and you just want to get this thing over (especially that we were re-tracing our go-in path). We’ve decided to skip one camp, to save 1 day. Not good for our French baker, took him all day and have arrived 8pm, - - this is one disadvantage of a group trip, you have to keep up if you’re the tail. Weather has improved, clear sky , lots of stars. And I was feeling my strength coming back. Wasn’t able to train properly for this trip (as if I train) and with the hike I did for several days, my body has adapted and I was now feeling very strong (Cardio ok, knees ok, morale very much ok).
I later learned the 2 buddies (Am-Brit) had some small disagreement over some stupid thing (that always happen in a long trip), and didn’t initially noticed why they became over- talkative with me. Well - simply because they didn’t want to talk to each other… hahaha, funny dudes! Imagine these were big macho very athletic guys, and they were acting like young kids.
Day 11: back to Paiju
Back to the boring up-and -down trails to Paiju. At least I was able to regain my strength, was carrying full-load, and has started running trails. The 2 strong hombres were still ahead, not very far though.
I miss the goat, I hate just seeing dirty people. Well, it won’t be long now .. there are hundreds of Yaks and Ponies beyond Paiju.
On the way to campsite, some porters started sharing some news that was broadcasted over the Army frequency. Apparently, there were some terrible bombings in the US killing 10,000. Of course we didn’t believe that, it was unthinkable to have that big number unless somebody used a small Nuclear or Bio/Chemical bombs.
But there was more ‘excitement’ in the campsite in Paiju, people were talking about the tragedy, unsure what it was. One guide who was able to talk to an Army officer, mentioned that some “terrorist bomb-planes” were dropped in New York, Washington, Philadelpia, and another city. He said around 5000 people were killed. We still found it hard to believe. I was even telling the folks that it was impossible not to have been guessed and anticipated by the Federal Agencies of the US (CIA, FBI, etc.). So we all held our ‘acceptance’, just hoping it was just some bad rumor.
The Brit was very much disturbed though, he wanted to finish the last 3 or 4 sections in 1 or 2 days. We just decided to walk as far and as fast as we could, no real rush and panic for now. Little that we know that US and British governments have already sent special forces on Afghan soil (and Northern Pakistan of course) as early as Sept 13 (for Intelligence and Recon). I believe it was Sept 15 when we reached Paiju. And of course we were in Northern Territory of Pakistan. The Northwestern part was some place where Talibans and their ally clans roam around freely, it’s where they get guns and ammo supplies. Even with the ‘rumor-status’ news, we were already reconsidering our plans to visit Peshawar (clan-controlled, northwest of Pakistan , few klicks to border), and especially the plan to visit the famous Kybher Pass - - The Afghan border. (Kybher is where the great explorers and conquerors passed to enter the Greater Indian and Central Asian territories … Marco Polo, Genghis Khan, etc.. It looked like Osama and Omar will cross it anytime soon).
There was no immediate threat in Baltoro, so we should be fine, although it was a bit disturbing to see Army helicopters flying overhead from time to time.
Day 12,13: back to Skam Tsok, Korophone, Askoli
We half-walk , half-run. One memorable part was the crossing of the river - - well, just me and some porters. The 2 dudes went ahead (as usual), I was behind them by less than 1 hour (The French dude is somewhere at the back, he was ok, just keeping his pace). Luckily, we saw 3 crazy cheaters (porters) trying to cross the cold rushing river. The most challenging gut-wrenching cross-section of the river is a convergence which was probably doing a 4-5-knott current. You make one wrong footing, and you’ll probably end up in Northern India. And the water was cold, you could numb yourself to death in less than 30min. But one brave soul , unwilling and not-so-ready to go to hell or heaven, managed to cut the stream and was able to cross the convergence. Came loud cheering from the others, who just stood and watched and prayed . It’s easy when you have somebody on the other side, we have ropes. Crossing the river would mean saving 2 hours - - read T-W-O H-O-U-R-S of walking !! That’s a lot of time and distance on flat-ground hike. Since the 2 dudes already went ahead, I have the only privilege of doing the short-cut (not an option for the bread-maker). The locals were worried of course, I was a tourist (not ‘allowed’ to be swept away to eternity). They probably didn’t know that there were lots of strong rivers in East Asia and river was not something I worry about. Yep the water was numbing-cold (as I have to rub and massage my legs after just less-10 minutes in the water). It was a bit challenging but not too difficult. Whew!
The 2 dudes of course were very surprised and shocked (and angry) to have seen me in the campsite, fully rested, with big broad smile on my face. Sorry guys, but it was my lucky day.
We reached Askoli, and set camp. Baksheesh time, we were four so it was easy to just share the burden of giving tips. Not so difficult, we just gave everything to the guide (except his share, that will be later) and it was his problem to divide and share amongst our weary support crews. You could see the smile and the aura of contentment as the guide announced their add-on wages (even a Peso salary goes a long way in this part of the world - - well after changing it to dollars or Rupees).
We received the unfortunate confirmation that there was really a terrorist attack in the US. And all the embassies have advised all foreign nationals in both Afghanistan and North Pakistan to leave the country, ASAP.
Back to Skardu
We hauled back our stuff and weary bodies and worries, over mountains and stream. It was a bumpy half-a-day or so Jeep ride. It reminded me of some trips up north in Cordillera. We arrived later, confirmed our flights, grabbed newspapers and for the first time - - saw the picture of a plane crashing through WTC building. Now, this was damn serious offense. Retaliation has to come anytime soon (so I thought). I’ve heard that the US and Brits have conducted a police operations 2 or 3 years before in Afghan soil, it was big scale operation employing support aircrafts flying over Pakistan (wherein 2 fighters have shot down 2 Afghan Fighter Migs), tons of Tomahawk cruise missiles launched from Navy ships (from Indian ocean, and over Pakistan), helicopter fire support, and squads and squads of Delta Force units (US) and SAS (British). If they’ve extended the ground operation to +10mins (they only did 30 mins), they probably have solved the labyrinth puzzle of the underground escape route of Osama and the ‘war’ was probably over then. (Good thing they didn’t attack sooner, otherwise, Taliban-allies in Northern Pakistan may have harmed Foreign Nationals, especially my Western teammates).
The EXODUS
Luck doesn’t seem to favor the weary and worried boys, as all the planes from Skardu were all grounded for the past 3 days due to bad wind conditions. We met the 10-man Dutch team, they just spent 2 days in Skardu, and they were so worried to stay and continue with their trip, as rumors abound that some Taliban-ally clans (in this city) would snatch white western tourists. They’ve decided to fly out to Gilgit (west of Skardu), said it was safer there (but that’s West, and border is to the west, I didn’t know where they get that weird idea).
The Am-dude was pretty relaxed (maybe I was right that he’s a CIA, he has spent 10 years in the Soviet, and was in Central America when some tourist bus was hit by a gang of no-goodnik terrorists). He said that his close friends also have the same guess, but denied it. The Brit was a lot more worried and close-to-panic, the French didn’t give a damn on what was happening and decided to continue his trip to Lahore (it’s in the East anyway). The Brit didn’t want to wait for the good wind for us to fly out, so we rented a jeep to take us to Islamabad. That was 18 hours of jeep ride across rough road, and hanging bridges and landslide-prone mountain zig-zags. Me, I wasn’t too worried as I am Asian, and can safely pass as an Indonesian or Malaysian student Muslim studying Geology in Karakoram (sure). Except that I looked like the regular tourist (with colorful jackets and fleece, boots, pants), they said any tourist were potential target of the hard-core fundamentalists (but hey, I could wear kamis shalwal, and be a local-look-alike).
Arrived in Islamabad next night. Then flight re-arrangement time, it was not easy to book and re-book flights as this was exodus time for tourist, (and visiting time for journalists). We have no choice but to cut our trips short (I still have 1 week of vacation), too bad for those who arrived only few days earlier, they have to go back home so they could live a healthier, longer life.
The 2 dudes decided to fly British Air, (man, they’ll fly ANY airline going out of Pakistan). We said our good-byes in one of the hotels, last breakfast together. It was a fascinating experience to be in a hotel lobby, full of foreigners -- 70% of them were media teams (just arrived to cover the upcoming and much-anticipated war and chaos), Television sets all tuned in to CNN showing clips and bits of the Terror attack, US military Armada, riots, and all other spices that could change your boredom to panic. I should have covered (video shoot) some riots in Karachi and Islamabad , as the first Filipino journalist on-site.
Flying back, I have to make another stop-over, in Karachi. There were more vocal Osama supporters there than in Islamabad. But at least it’s further from the border. The prince of chaos probably wanted me to stay and watch some street violence, as I attempted to check-in, I was shocked not to see my flight number on the screen (Karachi to Hong-kong). Cathay Pacific just decided to cancel the flight. WHAT ?!?! They want me to stay in this place? Do you have boats, by chance … going to Bombay? Damn! I already feel itchy and uncomfortable with this whole thing. I was expecting the US to strike fast and hard anytime soon. Cathay rebooked my flight, it would however take me another 2 days. Philippines is just in Southeast Asia and it would take me 2 days (actually 3, including this day from Islamabad). I was told that I have to stay one night in Karachi, another night in HongKong. I didn’t really have much choice, so like the good dog I was, I got out and catch my bus to our hotel.
The flight was rescheduled the next day, we had free hotel stay and food for the next day, and there was TV in the room anyway. I missed watching TV. Small joys in life. I didn’t dare go out of the hotel, as we were strictly advised to stay in-doors.
Come fly time, entering Departure area. Hah, it was like smelling cordite here, smell of war.. Security was tripled, more automatic weapons at every corner, Some mean-looking security dude asked me to remove my boots so they could check it out. Told them I just finished my long trek, they might mistook the bad smell as a bio-chemical agent. Imagine a headline: “Filipino shot dead due to foot-based bio-chemical agent”. Hahaha! I have to amuse myself. And so being a good boy, I complied but covered my nose, But it was actually not that bad. Although security was tighter, I relatively breezed through and was able to make my way out of harms way - - Out of Pakistan.
___________________
(fin)
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