KANGCHENJUNGA, 1998

CHRIS COMERIE

The decision
19 October, 1998, altitude 7400 m (24,250 ft)

AN OPAQUE PALE blue hue of light filters through the ice where we have inadvertently carved our refuge close to the outer slope. Outside the storm rages relentlessly as the jet stream races in from the west with enormous life threatening force. The wind is screaming over the Great Terrace causing a huge tail of ice crystals and snow to extend horizontally out over Sikkim. Wind, an invisible force, is revealed by the millions of frozen particles of water. Below the normally invisible horizontal line extending out from the cliff top is a chaotic confusion of air with nowhere to go, trapped between the rocks, lower slopes and the force above.

The atmosphere is deceptively calm in our cramped snow hole dug into the slopes of the north ridge below the buttress known as the Castle. Just above us lies the deceptively close looking summit pyramid. Two pitches would take us to the perimeter rim of the Great Terrace, and they look easy. My god we would cruise that buttress after all we had already been through over the past few weeks on the NW face below. Then it's a walk, just a few hours to the foot of the easy angled summit slopes, a high altitude stroll on the very edge of heaven. Mark and I have enthused for weeks, months, and even over the past couple of years about this walk. We could make it, I know we could, despite all the work and difficulties with the resultant loss of muscle tissue, we were still going well and were highly motivated. It's still possible if only this damned weather would give us a chance. Inside lurks a realisation, not a fear, that this walk on the edge of heaven could in these conditions give us an irreversible journey to that place!

Life has been very hard for many weeks, our one and only chance for the summit is slipping through our fingers like dry sand, jeopardised by the rapidly deteriorating weather.

During the night our claustrophobic home has been partly filled with spindrift, blown in through our entrance plug constructed from rucksacks boots and axes. We've been half buried in our fitful sleep and most of our equipment and food is lost under a blanket of white powder. Simple tasks and life functions become monumental chores of difficulty requiring extreme mental application to just move, to get things going, to make it happen. We light the stove and fill a pan with snow from the roof of our home. It takes an age for the crystals to produce a pan of hot water. The flame burns the little oxygen that exists and leaves us gasping. I reach up and pull a rucksack from the entrance plug in an attempt to replenish the depleted supply. Tea is hopeless and disgusting, a brew of hot sweet water is far more palatable. We drink. Mark immediately throws his share back into the pan, not wanting to make a mess on the floor of our abode. Most considerate of him in these circumstances. I suspect the same consideration was absent years ago when he was a student after a beer session in Glasgow!

It takes almost three hours to finally sort ourselves out. One hour to melt sufficient snow for a brew, one hour to don our protective clothing and boots, and just about another hour to think about it and actually make the moves. I drag myself up the forty-five degree entrance tunnel out onto the ridge. Immediately I'm flattened by the fury of the gale force wind, blinded and grit blasted by a million particles of ice in the wind. Chill temperature's well down below minus fifty degrees. The situation is becoming serious; it could become desperate! And yet I'm more concerned, and even positively mortified by the thought of failure. How, after all this time and effort, could we be so unlucky? It's so cruel!

Over the next few hours we lay in wait for an abatement in Kangchenjunga's fury. We lay in silence. Were unable to look at each other. Our eyes are filled with tears and avert to the white blank walls. The warm salty water trickles down my face and comes to rest as ice in my frozen beard. We're afraid of the inevitable truth that exits behind the masks which are our faces, avoiding the utterance of the words we dare not say.

Introduction

During the summer of 1996, I had a telephone call from Dr Simon Currin inviting me to consider the possibility of forming a team for an attempt to climb Kangchenjunga. Simon was leading an expedition of research doctors and trekkers into the Kangchenjunga region to undertake further high altitude medical research that had begun on a similar expedition to Everest in 1994. His organisation is now a registered charity operating under the title of Medical Expeditions. They had already begun to formulate their plans for organising further research. Several teams of trekkers, researchers and mountaineers were to trek to base camp to undertake a variety of objectives. It was considered that an ascent of Kangchenjunga would provide further focus and interest to all concerned.

At the time of the invitation I was heavily involved in organising another Himalayan expedition and therefore asked that my decision be delayed until my return later in the year. Over the next few months the idea gradually grew more appealing, prompting me to accept the challenge, providing that I could organise the entire expedition independently from Medical Expeditions. Although in conjunction with the 'Kangchenjunga Medical Expedition, 1998' we would remain an independent organisation which I considered necessary to maintain complete control over the project. This agreed, we decided to operate under the slightly different title of 'Kangchenjunga 1998, Expedition'. As part of that agreement the team was to take part in the data collection weekends and the high altitude medical research.

I was particularly attracted to the north face of the mountain by way of the Kangchenjunga glacier to gain access to the northwest face. One then needs to climb and fix this face to reach the north col on the north ridge which when followed gives access to the Great Terrace and the final summit pyramid. Subsequent research revealed that this line was first successfully climbed by the 1979 British expedition comprising Boardman, Bettembourg, Scott and Tasker. The route appeared difficult but interesting, affording the type of climbing that appealed, reasonably lightweight without the encumbrance of ladders and other heavy equipment, and technical. The route was further enhanced by the fact that it had only received two further ascents since that time, none of them British.

The Plan

The proposal was to make the attempt without the use of supplementary oxygen or porters above base camp. Two oxygen sets would be stashed on the mountain at Camp 2 and Camp 3 respectively, to be used only in case of emergency. It was proposed to make base camp (5100 m) at Pangpema on the true right hand bank of the Kangchenjunga glacier. The approach to the NW face was to be serviced by two stocked camps, Camp 1 on the glacier at 5300 m and Camp 2 at 5900 m in the upper cwm at the foot of the north and northwest face. Camp 3 would be situated on the N col. The remaining two camps or bivouacs above that point were to be snow caves to escape the high winds that are a particular feature of Kangchenjunga. Four lightweight hand held radios were to be used for communication. All food and equipment to be used and consumed above base camp would be imported from the UK and New Zealand.

The Team

My Himalayan partner of two previous expeditions, Mark Bryan, currently living and working in New Zealand, had agreed to accompany me right from the start and had been involved in the research and decision to attempt this route. Soon after, we were joined by Dave Turton from Cumbria, who was able to arrange a meeting with Doug Scott who kindly gave us much useful information. The remaining team members were recruited in the latter months of 1997, Chris Howarth & Ian Arnold from Yorkshire and two Scott's Ian Miller & Gordon Dalgarno.

The journey and trek in to base camp

On 22 August we left Kathmandu along with fifty of our staff in two large buses. The 1200 kg of imported food and equipment contained in blue plastic barrels was carried on the roof racks of both vehicles. Twenty one grinding hours later we arrived in Basantapur around midday 23 August. The final two hours of the journey were touch and go through a deeply rutted mud bath of a road. A short wade through the mud of this depressing little village brought us to our camp site for the night in a grassy hollow just outside.

The trek proved very difficult mainly because of the monsoon rains rendering the trail into a quagmire. Sometimes the path became a stream bed where wading became the only option. In addition we were plagued by leeches and insects which inflicted numerous bites to everyone. It was extremely hot so little could be worn in the way of protective clothing. Land slips continued to hamper us, the most serious causing a two day detour up from the valley floor to the village of Taplejung then back down the following day. Fifteen days later we finally arrived at Pangpema, base camp (5100 m) on 7 September.

The approach climb

On 8 September a route was found through piles of loose blocks to cross to the centre of the Kangchenjunga glacier. The first of the loads were carried on 9 September. The route up the glacier was without difficulty and Camp I (5300 m) was established on 11 September. This would be our main depot and loads continued to be carried to this camp from base camp throughout the duration of the expedition. We continued to make progress and established Camp 2 (5900 m) on 16 September on the glacier in a hollow between two crevasses. This camp was situated in a central position in the upper cwm about one hour's walk from the foot of the NW face. It was a lucky break that a water supply was found right next to the camp. This provided an unlimited supply of fresh water, which therefore saved on gas, which would have been required for melting snow and ice. The main obstacle in the climb from Camp 1 to Camp 2 was the icefall. Shortly after leaving Camp 1 you arrived at the foot of the north face of Kangchenjunga. You then made a left hand turn at ninety degrees to the glacier through a steep icefall to access the steep snow slopes leading up into the cwm. Various ice walls and crevasses had to be climbed and fixed with 100 m rope anchored by ice screws. The icefall was continually on the move necessitating re-fixing and adjustment of the ropes on a daily basis. This icefall was unexpected. The team of 79 simply walked up a steep snow slope! Further objective danger came in the upper cwm from hidden crevasses, avalanche and stone fall from Gimmigela which formed the south wall of the cwm. The crevasse system made it necessary to pass the very foot of the face which was continually strafed by stone fall. Avalanches continually roared down the slopes from all sides of the cwm but none ever reached the three tents.

The North West Face

Camp 2 was stocked with food and equipment and served as a base to tackle the face. Temperatures were extreme in the cwm with recorded readings ranging from minus 30 degrees to above plus 50 degrees all in the space of a few hours. Because of the intense heat of the day it became necessary to be off the lower part of the face by midday because of falling stones, ice and heat exhaustion. This meant that an early start was essential. Anytime from midnight to 3 a.m. were regular starting times. The 1000 m face was steep and very sustained. Almost the whole route was climbed on snow and ice at approximately Scottish grade three in the lower half and up to grade four in the upper parts. We climbed a total of twenty four pitches and fixed 1200 m of rope. We were hampered by periods of bad weather causing huge amounts of spindrift to cascade down the face. Each day we went onto the face, some of the fixed ropes had to be chopped out of the ice. The final push to the north col was achieved by two night's bivouacking at around half height. Two small ledges were hacked out of the ice at the foot of a protective slightly overhanging rock buttress. We reached the N col (6900 m) on 9 October. It had taken twenty-two days. We had originally intended to climb the face in two weeks but bad weather, team injuries, sickness and poor acclimatisation had cost us dearly. Together with the delays experienced at the start of the trek, we were now almost two weeks behind schedule and the winter jet stream winds were beginning to batter the upper part of the mountain.

Over the next few days, Camp 3 was established on the col and stocked with food, gas, medical supplies and emergency oxygen.

By now the MEDEX research teams and trekking parties had arrived at base camp and all members of the climbing team were taking part in the data collection on their periodic visits to base.

We had originally intended to leave base camp on 21 October. To enable us to mount a summit attempt our flight out from Suketar had to be cancelled and re-scheduled to allow for a delayed departure date. This was made possible by the use of the MEDEX satellite communications.

Summit attempt

Mark Bryan and myself left base camp for the summit attempt on 14 October. We progressively worked our way through the camps each day until arriving back on the north col by 16 October. The weather had begun to deteriorate with a dark hog's back of cloud now obscuring the upper part of the mountain. The wind had increased considerably and was doing so by the hour. On the morning of 17 October we climbed the north ridge and reached a point (7400 m) close to the foot of the final rock barrier (The Castle), which forms the perimeter of the upper Great Terrace. Conditions were very difficult and the going very slow. We had to break trail through a hard wind blown crust which would not always support our body weight. Below, lay deep unconsolidated snow sometimes thigh deep. These conditions gave concern that we could be caught out by a wind slab avalanche. We dug a snow cave with some difficulty because I dropped the snow shovel in a fit of enthusiastic shoveling. We continued with axes and used our helmets to remove the spoil. The weather continued to deteriorate as the day wore on so we decided to leave our loads in the cave and retreat back to Camp 3 at the col.

The next day we climbed back to the cave in high winds and enlarged it big enough to accommodate us both. Blocking off the entrance with rucksacks and other equipment we had a reasonably comfortable night although lots of spindrift blew down into our grotto burying our equipment and us, making life difficult the next morning.

We emerged, on 19 October, to a wild day, high winds, intense cold and poor visibility. The wind screamed off the Great Terrace just above us creating a great tail of spindrift extending out over Sikkim. We retreated back to the confines of the cave to wait for improvement. It never came. In fact the situation deteriorated. Then after some hours we decided to call off the attempt and retreat.

It was a fight to get back down the ridge to the col. Most of our tracks had filled with snow and there was a real danger of stepping off the cornice into Sikkim in the poor visibility and appalling conditions. That night was spent on the col before retreating back to base camp the next day.

SUMMERY

An attempt on Kangchenjunga (8598 m) in September/October 1999 by an American team.

 

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