KUNYANG KISH, 1988

ANDY WINGFIELD

KUNYANG KISH (Khinyang Chhish) at a height of 7852 m, sits in a commanding position on the northern bank of the Hispar glacier in the midst of the Karakoram. The name, according to the local Nagar porters, has various meanings including "killer Mountain' Whilst locals probably apply this translation to most mountains in an attempt to out-psych the overambitious visitor, in this case it would not be entirely inaccurate.

Several attempts had been macte to climb Kunyang Kish prior to our visit in 1988, including two attempts on the mountain's long south ridge, before the Poles succeeded by this route in 1971.¹ Attention then shifted to the north ridge with attempts by the British in 1980 and 1981 and a Japanese attempt in 1987. With a total of five deaths on the aforementioned expeditions, perhaps the locals had a point. As the six day walk-in drew to a close and we caught our first close up view of the hill, I preferred the less thought provoking and probably more accurate translation, 'Mountain of the Wild Donkeys' !

 

The British Kunyang Kish Expedition team comprised five climbers, namely Julian Fisher, Mark Lowe, Keith Milne, Mike Sheldrake and myself, our liason officer Mahmood Khan and three trekking friends. Our intention was to make the second ascent of Kunyang Kish by the unclimbed north ridge and attempt to fly off the mountain by means of parapente.

Base camp was set up at Bularung on the west bank of the Kunyang glacier, a 15 km subsidiary to the Hispar glacier with its source at the foot of our route. The weather, which had made a remarkable improvement on the first day of our walk-in, showed little signs of breaking. Within six days of arrival at base camp we had found a devious route up the tortuous Kunyang glacier and stocked our advance base (4760 m). In the blistering afternoon heat of 21 June we struggled against lethargy to sort out gear for the first attempt on the ridge.

Most of our proposed route had been visible on the glacial approach from base camp; the long northwest spur running up to a small pimple at it's junction with the north ridge, whilst the latter swept down from the main summit and curved back up to the distant north peak of Kunyang Kish. But from the position of our advance base, much of the way ahead was masked by the massive triangular cliff of granite which marked the foot of our route.

Luckily it only marked the foot and not the actual route. Thanks to our British predecessors, we knew of a rather handy gully which sneaked up the right hand side of the cliff, giving easy access to the upper flank of the spur.

Our over-enthusiasm to gain height on the first day landed us in trouble straight away. At the top of the back-alley, named 'Garadh Gully' by Dave Wilkinson's expedition, we followed an obvious continuation onto the crest of the spur. What had started out as a relatively non-technical route quickly began to look otherwise and a combination of snow conditions and heat exhaustion forced a halt.

Our early start the following morning was quickly halted, headtorch beams revealing rock pinnacles and an abyss. With only a length of 7 mm rope between us, an alternative route had to be found. Dawn revealed our mistake, as we stared across at a broad ice-gully which ran from the upper Kunyang glacier to join our spur some 200 m above us and 800 m distant. In future we would exit horizontally from Garadh Gully and traverse the lower flank of the spur, thus gaining easy access to the upper glacier and gully.

The rapid retreat to ABC and ensuing 5 days of climbing saw camps 1, 2 and 3 set up and stocked with food and gas. Three short lengths of rope were fixed up to this point, with the remaining climbing falling into the 'easy but dangerous' category, as our route weaved its way through ice-cliffs and beneath cornices. All three camps nestled beneath huge ice-cliffs, our logic being that avalanches were the most likely danger, and they would hopefully be deflected over our heads.

C3 was situated some 300 m below the junction with north ridge, at an altitude of 6700 m. The final 1200 m would be the hardest, but we retreated to base camp to sit out a short period of bad weather feeling quite pleased with our progress to date.

On 1 and 2 July we returned to the mountain in two pairs. Unfortunately Mike was accompanying Maggie, one of the trekkers, back to the roadhead so delaying his return to the mountain by several days. Fresh snow made re-ascent to C3 a dangerous and demoralising process. Throughout our first stint on the hill we had made early starts and largely avoided climbing through the heat of the day. Now, time and the weather were no longer on our side and we felt compelled to use more of the day.

Keith and Mark, who were a day ahead of Julian and myself, made a gear and food dump just below the ' pimple' which marked the junction of the northwest spur and north ridge. Named 'Sod's Law Peak' by Dave Wilkinson, it lived up to its name. It prevented us from skirting around its base in order to reach the north col, forcing us instead to take a route via its summit.

The following day, 5 July, was spent sitting out a storm at C3. Despite our two Gemini tents being a couple of metres apart, the wind noise precluded all normal conversation. At this, point the two-way radios came into their own, allowing interesting conversations to continue as normal:

'Hallo Mark, what's the weather like in your tent, over?'

'It's great over here, but we're almost out of sun oil.'

To think that we hauled batteries all the way up here for this. . .

By later the following morning, the wind had abated somewhat and with mixed emotions we decided to move on up. The slope immediately above us was generally steeper than 50 degrees and appeared to have avoided a dangerous build-up of fresh snow. Julian was forced to remain tent-bound suffering from bad stomach pains, so I set off carrying a load of food and gas. Mark and Keith took their personal gear and tent, aiming to set up the next camp over the top of 'Sod's Law Peak'.

Almost immediately we discovered that the starting slope was unique in its lack of snow and everywhere else was loaded thigh deep. Visibility was restricted to a few yards and it started to snow in earnest once more. I left the other two nestling below a rock overhang at 7000 m and beat a hasty retreat. Our ascent trench was largely obliterated and I did not want to miss the short length of rope fixed down a steep ice pitch. A route too far to my left would carry me into the huge bergschrund above C3 and 1 arrived back at the tent panting but relieved.

With first hand knowledge of the slope condition above, 1 didn't fancy our chances in the tent very much. We enlarged the small snow-cave dug previously by Mike, and settled down with considerably greater peace of mind.

Another day of bad weather pinned everyone down, with Ju' s condition deteriorating. Our chances of success were looking pretty slim but Mark and Keith, sitting at C4, remained optimistic. At least 1 took it to be optimism when, during the evening radio call Keith declared, 'we'll go on up tomorrow, it's safer than descending!'

8 July dawned clear but with a halo of spindrift over the upper ridge. With a sinking heart I realised that Julian was no better and despite his offer to descend alone, my conscience would not allow me to go on up. The following four hours were pretty unpleasant, despite having gravity on our side. The route had changed beyond recognition and 1 had climbed past C2 before Ju called me back. As much gear as possible was picked up to ease the others' loads on their descent, and we carried on down to Cl.

The thicker air at 5800 m seemed to be helping Ju and he no longer looked like he was about to keel over backwards at any moment. I seized my chance and unpacked the parapente which I had laboured to carry up thus far at the start of the climb. At nearly 4 kg it had proved impracticable to transport any further up the mountain, when our team had such meagre resources. The only take off site available was a cornice whose top sloped at 30 degrees. As I meticulously laid out the canopy, balancing small ice-lumps on the fabric to stop it slipping down the slope, a sickening crack emanated from the cornice on which I was standing. I froze, gripped up, but didn't disappear down the other side of the ridge. Shouldering my bulging rucksack 1 cast one final glance over all the lines and, giving up the hope for even a breath of wind, started to Tun over the edge.

For a moment everything seemed OK, the wind rose beautifully above my head, pulling gently on my harness. As I started to leave the ice, applying brake to gain a little lift, I suddenly hit a lump" of ice. The canopy lines unloaded momentarily, the air pumped out of the wing and suddenly I was cartwheeled down the slope with crampons, axes, sack and parapente mixed up in a hopeless tangle. With avalanche danger growing by the minute and nowhere to attempt to untangle the spiders web of cord I resigned myself to the long climb down to ABC.

Julian had considerably more luck. Collecting his canopy from a cache beside the upper Kunyang glacier, he had a great flight from the top of Garadh Gully, landing 200 m from camp.

Meanwhile, high up on the mountain Keith and Mark had pushed on over 'Sod's Law Peak' making a gear dump and returning to C4 for the night. The following day they collected the supplies dumped previously and continued across the broad col to camp at 7150 m beneath the final 700 m of ridge. The emerging weather pattern was calm and sunny through the day with strong winds through the night.

The next day dawned clear and Keith captured a spectacular sunrise on cine film. Conditions were largely poor with deep snow and a steep section where a rope would have been nice! A ledge was cut for the tent at 7530 m and they sat out another night of buffeting winds. The following day is recounted by Keith:

'I kicked off in the morning up a 55 degree slope and avoided a vertical section by actually climbing a short section of granite. Mark continued up the steep snow above. It was very exposed with the northwest face dropping away on the right. Mark reached a spot below a bergschrund where we brewed up for an hour. The altimeter indicated that we still had 700 m to go. Thoughts of bivouacking crossed our minds. We had no sleeping equipment, no radio and only a short length of 7 mm rope.

I crossed the bergschrund on the right but soon got stuck on an unconsolidated vertical section. I climbed down awkwardly. Meanwhile Mark had already fallen off into the snow trying a boulder problem start on the left. He tried again and this time his axes held, establishing him on a steep slope. I followed, finding the start very strenuous. We were doping to turn the next section on the right, but it was simpler to go straight up a section of 70 degree snow to reach easier ground. We plodded on in the afternoon sun.

Suddenly Mark exclaimed that there was no more mountain: we had I rtw'hed the top. I couldn't believe it and almost cried-with relief. The altimeter indicated another 600 m to go ! I tried to do more than five Ik'ps at once and fell over in the snow. It was amazing to see the other side of the mountain and the panorama up and down the Hispar glacier. We could see from Rakaposhi to K2 to Shimshal.'

The radio call that evening was received amidst cheers and whoops I of delight at ABC. We had snatched success from the 'Killer Mountain', I mid without sighting a wild donkey!

Note : The altimeter was checked on our return to Britain and found to be in good working order. We had forgotten to make temperature I corrections, leading to our underestimate of the altitude. All spot heights I plven above have been adjusted accordingly.

TV second ascent of Kunyang Kish (7852 m) by the unclimbed north ridge. Successful in flying off the route on the mountain by means of parapente.

 

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