EXPEDITIONS

1. PANDIM (SIKKIM HIMALAYAS), 21,953 feet
2. AN ATTEMPT ON BANDARPUNCH, NOVEMBER 1942
3. BANDARPUNCH¹
4. CROSSING OF THE LAMKHAGA PASS (17,330 feet)
5. GHARWAL AND THE KUMAON
6. NOTES ON NANDA GHUNTI,² 1944
7. CHAMBA DISTRICT
8. KASHMIR ALPS 1945, KOLAHOI (17,799 feet)
9. American's amazing climbing feat.
10. LADAKH
11. CHOMBU (20,872 feet)
12. LAMA ANDEN-SIKKIM HIMALAYA

 

 

During a visit to the Guicha La in the immediate vicinity of Kangchenjunga during December 1938, I had been attracted by what seemed to me a feasible route to a col on the south ridge of Pandim, by gaining which it might be possible to follow the ridge to this hitherto unattempted¹ summit.

Early in 1940 my wife and I, with G. R. Cooke, made preparations to attempt the ascent of Pandim by this ridge. In view of the possibility of my being recalled from my then employment for military service, my own participation in this enterprise had to be provisional; but I managed to obtain one month's leave, and in order to prevent the plan falling through we endeavoured to include others in the party. Most climbers in India at the time were not available, but eventually Herr Bernhardt, a Swiss in Calcutta, was added, and it was hoped that Charles Crawford, who had been on Chomolhari with Chapman, would be able to assist in the early stages of the climb. His leave would not permit of his remaining for the whole period.

Within a month of the small expedition starting, both Bernhardt and Crawford fell out, one owing to sudden illness, the other owing to his leave not materializing; my own case was rendered still more provisional by news that I was shortly to be relieved for military duty, and must expect orders to this effect at any time. We therefore left Darjeeling early in May with our plans elaborated, but realizing that they might be cancelled before we could complete them. The party consisted of Mr. and Mrs. C. R. Cooke, myself and my wife, and Dawa Thondup², Angtharkay,² Kusang and Pasang Sherpa.²

The site selected for Base Camp, high up in the Parek Chu at about 13,800 feet, and immediately below the west face of Pandim, was reached on the 9th May. In the following four days we made a further detailed study of the proposed route, as well as preparations for an ascent of Forked peak. On the night of 13th May, when Cooke and myself had returned from working out a route up the latter mountain, and had carried loads up prior to attempting its ascent, the orders recalling me arrived by special messenger. The result was the hurried departure of myself and my wife for Darjeeling the same night, and the end of our high hopes of climbing Pandim, or even Forked peak.

 

In view of the extent of our preparations, and of my personal strong opinion that the route chosen will 'go’, it is perhaps worth giving the following details for the benefit of others. Having seen the north-west ridge from the Guicha La (Dec. 1938), and the north face and north-east ridge from the Zemu gap (Nov. 1937), I feel that the south ridge is by far the most likely route for the eventual ascent of Pandim. It should be added that Pandim is a magnificent mountain and is exceptionally easy of access from civilization, for it can be reached from Darjeeling via the Rangit valley and Yoksam in four to five days.

The Route

The south ridge runs down to a clearly marked col at a height of 18,500-19,000 feet, before rising again to a dome or sub-summit, and then continuing in a series of serrations towards Tingching Kang and Jubonu. The immediate approach to this col on the west side is a gently sloping glacier, which soon plunges down in a precipitous ice-fall towards the snout of the Alukthang glacier. The ice-fall itself provides no reasonable approach to the little upper glacier and col, but on its true left edge, and beneath the afore-mentioned dome on the ridge, there is a possible route. Separated from the ice-fall by a steep little snow ridge intersected by horizontal bands of rock, a Y-shaped couloir descends from the steep rocks of the dome. Its foot can be reached without technical difficulty by following the true left lateral moraine of the ice-fall, which descends to the very bed of the Parek Ghu at the point where the debris of the Alukthang glacier terminates (this was the site of our Base Gamp). From the top of this moraine ridge, an upward traverse over ice (its appearance suggested exposure to falling stones and ice) leads to the small snow fan issuing from the Y-shaped couloir, which is not excessively steep—my observations suggest 40 degrees. Some way up, an obvious branch to the left is then followed, and from the upper end of this it was clearly possible to get out on to the little snow ridge above the rock bands. This ridge in turn leads directly to the right bottom corner of the small upper glacier at the very point where it breaks away in the ice-fall. This, and the ensuing south ridge of the mountain, was our proposed route for 1940.

Schedule

I give below, for what it is worth, a rough schedule for the climb.

Day	Action
Z — 3	Establish Advanced Base at the top of the moraine ridge, at 15,500-16,000 feet.
Z — 2	Reconnoitre towards the col, taking part loads for the upper camps (possibly to the foot of the left branch of the couloir, which appeared to be sheltered). Return to Advanced Base.
Z — 1	Reconnoitre as far as the upper glacier, taking further loads upwards.
	Return to Advanced Base.
	Return to Advanced Base.
Z	Establish Camp I just below the col, at 18,500 feet.
Z + 1	Prepare the route along the ridge towards the summit, dumping loads on the ridge. Return to Camp I.
Z+2	Establish Camp II on ridge at about 20,500 feet.
Z + 3	Attempt the summit and return to Camp I (col).
Z+4	Descend to Base Camp.

 

H. C. J. Hunt.

 

 

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My first attempt to get on to the mountain proper was made by following a tributary of the Jumna river which flowed from the direction of Bandarpunch to just below Kharsali village. A huge landslide scree descends into this tributary from the hills above the left bank (south side), emptying into the stream 4 miles above the village. A bivouac tent was pitched level with the top of this scree, and about half a mile nearer Bandarpunch. I reconnoitred from here, attempting to reach a spur that would have brought me to a point due south of Bandarpunch ridge, about 19,000 feet, which I shall call 'A’ I got no farther than the top of a small rounded peak, and from here could look over into an attractive valley (Hanuman Ganga) emptying out of a corrie just below the scree south of 'A'. This corrie looked a more suitable place for a Base Camp, being higher and nearer where my tent was. Also, I found the snow above my land-slide camp to be mostly on north slopes, very deep and awkward.

I decided to go back to Kharsali and try a route I noted to this gully. A good coolie path led up through the forest south of the village, then along a wide grassy ridge to the valley flowing south from 'A'. Here the path descended with the stream, while we climbed to the corrie. The day^’s march was from the village at 8,000 feet to about 17,000 feet, and covered about 7 miles. It was as much as I could get those Chakrata coolies to do, and after that I sent them back to the village.

Next day at 3 a.m. I climbed from the corrie camp on to the lower part of the spur I had tried previously, and at 7 a.m. was at the top of ⁴A'. Between me at ^CA⁵ and the huge wall-like slopes up to the ridge between the two peaks of Bandarpunch³ was a wide snowfield lying on a glacier. It sloped from 'A' towards the mountain walls, and tilted eastward into another valley, which looked the best route up, if attempted from the Bhagirathi river, into which it evidently flowed.

 

I skirted this snowfield along its west edge, just where it fell sharply down into the river at Kharsali, then cut across to the centre of the main mountain wall. Along the foot of this wall was a glacier, bounded on each side by moraines, with the lower half clear of snow. I crossed just below a 100-200 foot step in the glacier, and then climbed straight up a bit of rib spur on the main mountain.

I got to where I could study the ridge above, which had a cornice leaning over my way, but broken off in places. The climbing was loose but seemed steeper and more firm higher up. There appeared nothing to prevent the cornice being reached at a number of points, and by other ribs than the one I was on; and it looked as if it could be crossed at various places where it had broken. Stones kept falling, and there was a grand ice-avalanche from high on the peak to my right.

I gave up because it was then about 4 p.m. On all this climb I had been continually bothered by the snow, which was deep and sticky in all places except where it faced due south. As I did not fancy retracing my steps, I decided to follow the glacier-moraines down east, and then skirt the bottom of the snowfield where it tilted west and south. A local but icy cold cloud, that had formed at about 4 p.m. just below the ridge, came right down and blotted out my landmarks, and I started across the snowfield too early.

There followed the worst journey of my life, and the only time I have really felt the need of others on lone climbing. The distance was about a mile, and the snow mostly hip-deep, so that I churned up quite a furrow as I went. It was also badly crevassed and taxed everything I knew of snow-work, feeling for the hollow spaces below the surface. It was about six hours before I reached snow- crust I could stand upon. My Indian-made boots (built with cardboard in the soles I discovered) were in bits, and I was frozen up to the knees. But a 1,000-foot glissade down a snow-gully from the west of ‘A' thawed out my legs almost to the toes, and soon I could feel them painfully. The pot-holers' headlamp torch, which had been so useful crossing the glacier, was useless by the time I had finished the glissade, and as cloud came down I found it almost impossible to find my camp. I only saw it when the clouds lifted after half an hour. The climb took just over twenty-four hours, and 1 only rested once for a few minutes. I would suggest that this route up Bandarpunch would be practicable if a camp were pitched close under the walls and an approach made from the Bhagirathi river. The only places that might prove serious obstacles are (1) getting on to the ridge if there were a cornice (at that time of year the winds seemed to be mostly north or west and blew the cornice southwards). (2) Getting round a 'kink' on the ridge just under the main peak, which might involve a tricky traverse, at least on the south side.

R. D. Leakey.

 

 

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On 27th September 1943, A. R. Leyden and A. G. Mullen left Ghakrata for Bandarpunch (20,720 feet). They had with them two Sherpas, Ang Karma and Dawa Thondup. From a point just opposite Karsali on the Jumna river they passed over by Sunatra Top to the southern basin, and camped at 12,450 feet. After a reconnaissance, camp was established by Leyden at 16,500 feet, under the south-east ridge of the mountain. Mullen was prevented from continuing by sore feet, but Leyden reached the ridge and reconnoitred to a height of 19,700 feet. Ang Karma was struck on the foot by a boulder on the way down from the 16,500 foot camp and disabled from further climbing. After two days' rest Mullen's foot had recovered and another attempt was made. They reached the ridge again, but got no farther.

In September-October 1944, Leyden with P. Wormald reached the ridge once more, but they were stopped by bad conditions and soft snow covering steep black ice. They succeeded, however, in climbing Hanuman peak (18,203 feet) from the southern, Bansaru pass, side.

 

 

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Harsil, near Gangotri in the upper Bhagirathi valley, may well from its situation become an important climbing centre. Convenient passes which connect it with the higher valleys to the north are of interest to future parties. In May-June 1945 A. de Spindler reconnoitred and sent valuable record of the Lamkhaga, the higher of the two Nela passes. The lower but more difficult Chotkhaga pass (16,900 feet) had been used by Marco Pallis (.H.J., vol. vi) and J. F. S. Ottley (H.J., vol. xii, p. 27 et seq.)²

Spindler chose the route from Ghakrata instead of the more usual Mussourie route, and took mules, which he found less costly and troublesome than coolies, as well as cheaper at Ghakrata than at Mussourie. In four stages he reached Nakuri. The same number would be needed from Mussourie, but each would be slightly longer. From there the party advanced to Sukki, coming across one really big landslide en route. From Sukki an unsuccessful attempt was made on Bandarpunch; the east side was chosen instead of 'the Bin Gad (to the south-east) by which Spindler had attempted the mountain in 1944. Sukki was regained on 12th June.

 

Spindler's two companions departed in the direction of Gangotri, while he with two porters left for Harsil and the Jalandri Gad. This valley had suffered severe damage; according to the locals a landslide in 1942 had dammed the river some miles up, and when the dam broke it had poured over, causing large-scale destruction and overwhelming much cultivated land even in the Bhagirathi valley. Spindler camped at Kiarkoti, 12,540 feet, and here learned from one of his porters that the Lamkhaga pass, about which he had had doubts, was in fact the easier of the passes and the one regularly used by the natives. Camp was therefore taken to a site just below a high traverse moraine hiding the steep glacier flowing down from the point 19,550 feet (Lamkhaga) into the Jalandri Gad. These peaks to the east of the valley, rising to some 20,000 feet, would be an El Dorado to a small climbing party. From his camp to the pass took 6J hours, the going being easy and the glacier of the final portion uncrevassed. From the pass the view included the Chotkhaga pass and much fine country to the east. Natives met at the top of the Lamkhaga definitely recommended it as the better of the two crossings. Spindler camped at Gundar Thadang, 15,200 feet, reaching it at 17.30 hours. He had left at 7.30 that morning.

The journey down the Baspa included an idyllic camp at Shakuli Thadang, reached in 7J hours from Gundar Thadang. From here to Chatkul, the first inhabited village, was 4! hours walk, and in ten marches more he arrived at Simla. Spindler was very strongly of opinion that the whole stretch of country north-east of Bandarpunch badly needed exploration, and would give an ideal mountaineering holiday.

 

 

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IN May 1943 D. Gould and C. W. F. Noyce visited Bhuna from Ranikhet and explored the south-west ridge of the Trisul massif to a height of between 17,000 and 18,000 feet. They then descended to Sutol and ascended the Nandagini gorge to the West Trisul glacier. They climbed the north ridge of Chananian Sankar (16,586 feet). A visit was paid to the Gohna lake beyond Ramni.

In May 1944 J. G. Rawlinson and C. W. F. Noyce ascended the Sundardhunga valley south of Nanda Devi. They turned west up the Sukeram glacier and climbed what from the map and glimpses through cloud appeared to be Simsaga (20,010 feet), immediately opposite the Sanctuary outer wall. After descent to Sundardhunga they climbed through the Maiktoli gorge to Maiktoli, and on up to the 17,500 foot col between south and east Maiktoli peaks. Rawlinson had to return. Noyce ascended a second time and climbed South Maiktoli peak (19,430 feet)¹ from a camp at 16,000 feet. He went round by way of Khati and Phurkia on to the Pindari glacier, finishing with an ascent of a small rock aiguille, 15,050 feet, to the south of it.

On this expedition efforts were made to train the Dhotiyal porters in snow and ice work. Besides being a most lovable people they would with equipment and training make very competent mountaineers. And, if they could overcome their religious prejudices sufficiently to be willing to share their sahibs' tinned food, they might carry really high.

 

 

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WE chose Nanda Ghunti (20,700 feet) as the most readily accessible peak of its size and character in Garwhal, and we had been inspired to visit Garwhal by the writings of Meade, Smythe, Shipton and others who so praise its scenery and people. Moreover, we had been able to discuss the district with Wilfrid Noyce, who visited it in May 1943. Also Shipton in H.J., vol. ix (1937), p. 85 onwards, had described the Ronti glacier and pass and his descent of the Nandagini; his two photographs, Nos. 7 and 8, illustrating this paper gave us some idea of the north and north- cast side of the mountain. Noyce had a number of photographs laken from Point 16,586, due south of Nanda Ghunti and we were able to set up some of these stereoscopically. They enabled us to study the south face and east ridge of the mountain in some detail.

 

The plan which we developed was to cross the Ronti pass (about 17,000 feet) between Nanda Ghunti and Trisul, from the head of the Nandagini; to establish a base camp on the glacier illustrated by Shipton, which runs east from the saddle between Nanda Ghunti and Ronti; thence, we hoped to attempt Nanda Ghunti by the north ridge shown well in profile in Shipton's photograph on p. 86. Our only misgivings arose from his remark on p. 86. . . . 'The saddle reached by Longstaff and Rutledge . . .'; this was clearly well up the north ridge, and we wondered why they had not gone farther. We hoped, however, to climb Ronti if Nanda Ghunti proved too difficult.

Our march from Baijnath on the 9th October went according to schedule and is too familiar to need description. We left the main route at Kanol and took a short cut down a steep path to Sutol through a magnificent forest of deodar and sycamore, then in their autumn colouring, which made a fine setting for the stupendous background of Trisul. Throughout this approach we had frequent views of the upper part of the south ridge of Nanda Ghunti; and we surveyed it thoroughly with our glasses.

In Sutol that admirable character Subedar Umrao Singh made all our arrangements, providing a guide and extra porters for the upper Nandagini gorge. The route up this is much overgrown and took us two full days with a halt on the way at Lat Kupri, where there is a perfect camping ground of unforgettable beauty. We put our 'base camp' at the foot of the glacier coming down from the southern half of the great amphitheatre below the west face of Trisul; the best site is behind the northern moraine. It was disappointing to find this to be the limit of wood, although the height, so far as we could judge, was little over 12,000 feet.

We now knew our form well enough to realize that the time at our disposal and our own state of fitness and equipment made it out of the question to establish and maintain food and fuel supplies to a proper base camp beyond the Ronti pass. This ruled out the northern approach to Nanda Ghunti. We dismissed all idea of the East ridge, since, although we might hope to reach the east peak of Nanda Ghunti with no insuperable difficulty straight up from the Ronti pass, a full mile of ice ridge separated the east peak from the summit.

Our surveys and studies of the south face of the mountain had made it clear that the only reasonable route lay ultimately up the steep ridge running due south from the summit, which from Kausani had appeared to be the higher of the twin tops of Nanda Ghunti. This ridge was, according to our calculations, about 800 feet in height and rose at a very steep angle. To the left of it was the great west face, of impossible steepness, and to the east, an array of formidable hanging glaciers. The only approach to this south ridge was a twin rock buttress about 1,700 feet in height, divided by a curving couloir. The lower part of this was screened from view during our approach march, but we could be certain that only the eastern half of the upper buttress was safe, as a menacing ice bulge capped the western half. Noyce’s photographs led us to expect no difficulty in reaching the base of the buttress up the more southerly of the two glaciers which flow eastwards from the hanging glaciers on the south face of the mountain. Realizing that we should have no time for anything else if we failed, we decided to attempt this formidable face. We moved our principal camp from the head of the Nandagini gorge to the moraine of the latter glacier, and found an excellent flat site, a veritable sun-trap at about 15,000 feet. In mid-October it was bitterly cold at night, and we had difficulty in getting going in the mornings before the sun reached us; it did so late in the day, as we were directly in the shade of the vast west wall of Trisul, whose summit was only three miles away. We planned to make our first forward camp on the level glacier, below the buttress, and the second camp on the crest of £he buttress, or just below it on rock, leaving a full day for the short final ridge.

Our progress up the glacier was unexpectedly slow. There had been a month of unbroken fine weather, and the crevasses were wide open. We camped the first night at about 17,250 feet. The two of us in the climbing party and our two Sherpas slept in pairs in the excellent bivouac tents of the 1939 Polish expedition. It was cold, and we had a light snow shower in the night. The following day we moved on up the glacier by the route we had surveyed from below. On our right was a considerable ice-fall, under the hanging glaciers, and on our left the glacier was much broken where it ^swung round a bend under the highest peak of the 19,000-foot Curtain⁵, between Nanda Ghunti and the Nandagini valley. As we breasted the middle slope of the glacier, above which we hoped there would be easy going, we found to our dismay a series of large crevasses running without a fault or a bridge from side to side of the glacier between the two ice-falls. We managed to turn the first crevasse on the right, through somewhat spectacular ice scenery, but there was no apparent way over the second. Three or four more were beyond. Meanwhile, foul weather had come up the valley and it was snowing hard. It was questionable whether we should be wise to stay where we were directly under the face of Nanda Ghunti, for it seemed unsafe even by Alpine standards. With no visible way ahead, we turned back and descended in foul snow conditions to our camp on the moraine. We had only reached 18,000 feet. The storm was a sharp one and quickly cleared, but snow had fallen right down to 10,000 feet and was about a foot deep at our camp.

From the place where we turned back we had seen at close quarters the lower part of the buttress and the route we had hoped to make up it. The whole of the east buttress overhung its base, but there was one fault, a gully rising from west to east by which the overhang might be turned to give lodgement on the steep slabs above. However, we could see that this was unsafe, for the hanging glacier immediately to the east of the buttress, which descends with astonishing steepness from between the twin summits, poured over into the head of the gully. So, had we reached it, we should have had to attack the great couloir up the centre of the buttress; this would have involved us in at least 1,500 feet of step-cutting in ice, at a high angle in the upper part. This we could not have done ten days out from Delhi, nor could we safely have attempted it until the fresh snow had cleared from the mountain.

For a fit party in good conditions this might be a possible spectacular route up a very fine mountain. For us, failure on the mountain gave leisure to enjoy the beauty of the valleys in full autumn colouring and perfect weather, and the incomparable view from the shoulder of Jatropani.

While we were attempting Nanda Ghunti the other member of the party visited the Ronti pass, camping a few hundred feet below the summit, and rejoined us at the base. Thanks to Umrao Singh our relays of atta and vegetables from Sutol reached us in the upper valley without a hitch. We had further relied on bharal to supplement our tinned meat, but never saw a sign of one. There were monal pheasant and jungle fowl in plenty in the upper Nandagini, and we would have been better off with a shotgun than a rifle.

The party consisted of Basil Goodfellow, John Buzzard, Innes Tremlett, with Pasang Dawa Sherpa and Nuri.

Times: The party took five days to Sutol, three to 'Base Camp' at 15,000 feet, spent three days up there and returned leisurely in eight days to Baijnath (end of road). The weather was extraordinary. Up the Nandagini, clouds started forming daily at about 1 p.m. at 16,000 feet and developed to a belt from 14,000 to 18,000 feet. A few light showers were experienced, and one heavy shower, mentioned above. All the mountains were very free from snow. It had evidently been like that for weeks and seemed absolutely settled.

 

 

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ON the 5th July 1945, Lt. J. W. Thornley left Dalhousie for Chamba. Next morning he started up the Saho nala and branched off to Silla Gharat. He crossed the Drati, 15,400 feet, to Tindi. From Tindi he went 8 miles up the Chenab to Salgaraon. With two coolies he attempted the 20,650-foot peak lying about 2 miles north of Salgaraon; but was held up at 15,500 feet by what appeared an impassable series of rock buttresses. His route ran via the ridge of an intermediate 17,800-foot peak, but a more feasible line appeared to be by the nala to the right.

He then trekked another 30 miles to Jarm, 9,500 feet, just above the Chenab. Crossing the Chenab he climbed the Kukti pass, 16,500 feet, and branching off, alone, climbed Grechu Jot, 17,811 feet. After the Kukti he descended the Budhll Nala to Brahmaur, and from Brahmaur reached Chamba on the 22nd, having covered 200 miles.

 

 

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ON 26th June, R. D. Leakey left Sonamarg and crossed the Sardal Na pass, camping in the West Liddar valley just below the snout of the Kolahoi glacier. On the 29th he bivouacked at the base of a small peak about a mile east-north-east of the foot of the east ridge. It snowed about 6 inches during the night, rendering the bivouac uncomfortable and the climb next day awkward. He started climbing the east ridge of the mountain at 6.30 a.m. and reached the summit at 4 or 5 p.m. During the descent he slept a few hours on the ridge, from darkness until the rising of the moon at midnight. He got off the ridge at first light, reached the camp for breakfast and was' back in Sonamarg that night.

This climb resulted in an unfortunate degree of notice from the Statesman of Delhi. The following is one of the accounts which appeared in connexion with an ascent by members of the Punjab Mountaineering Club at the beginning of September:

 

 

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Lahore, Sept. 13th. The American who made the lone ascent of Kolahoi peak (18,000 feet) this year and planted a packet of chewing gum on the summit was Sgt. R. D. Leakey of the U.S. Army Air Corps. He reached the peak on June 27 at 4.30 p.m. These facts are revealed in a letter he left along with the packet of chewing gum. The letter says: 'Whosoever finds this please send it to the Himalayan Club as evidence that Robert D. Leakey made a lone ascent of this peak by the east ridge and hopes to return that way.’ According to members of the Indian party which followed Leakey a few weeks later, the American's solitary conquest of the peak after a most hazardous climb was an amazing feat.

The matter ended, so far as the Statesman columns were concerned, with a note from Leakey denying American nationality. It remains here to give warning against the advertisement of ascents; particularly when they are of a popular peak such as Kolahoi, and when the facts are likely to be submitted to the inevitable incorrectness and misrepresentation of the newspapers.

A correct account of the Punjab Mountaineering Club ascent has been given by W. Cowley, leader of the party. The thirty students had a base camp in the West Liddar valley, about a mile below the snout of the Kolahoi glacier, for six days. Two days were spent in reconnoitring, and on the third a good advance camp site was found on the prominent rocky island dividing the glacier south-west of Hiur Bhagwan. On the fourth day the peak itself was reconnoitred to a height of 17,000 feet, and on the fifth climbed by a party led by H. A. Hamid Khan. They left the glacier at 9.30 a.m. and three members reached the summit at 1.30 p.m.

It is to be hoped that this ascent will be the prelude to many made in the Himalaya by the Punjab Mountaineering Club; in particular that it will serve as an encouragement to Indian mountaineers. The newspaper statement that these were the first Indians to venture so high is not quite accurate. Kesar Singh, for instance, who reached the top of Kamet, must presumably be classified as an Indian. But it does open a fruitful line on the chances that Indians from the plains have of exploring their own hills; and to them we hope that the Himalayan Club may be able to render material and 'moral' assistance.

Shortly after this ascent the Rohtang pass was climbed by eleven girls of the Women's Section of the Club under the leadership of Miss C. L. H. Geary. Here, too, newspaper accounts were misleading, but the organization and carrying out of the journey were highly creditable, and much praise is due to those who turn the efforts and enthusiasm of Indians towards their own hills.

 

 

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ON nth July 1944 Miss C. L. H. Geary and Miss Bozman left Leh for Shushal. They travelled by Ranbipur, the Chang La, Tankse and Panggong Tso. At Shushal they turned south, and returned by the Kongta La, crossing the Chang La again on the 28th July. They reached Srinagar again by Likhir and Hemis Shugpachan to Khalatse.

 

 

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Chombu, as yet unclimbed, is one of the mountains on the rocky ridge separating the Lachen and Lachung valleys in north-east Sikkim (Survey of India map No. 78A/ne—Iin. = 2 miles, 1941 Edition). The peak lies between Thangu and Mome Samdong and about 4 miles south of the Sebu La, well known to trekkers who make the circuit of the Lachen and Lachung valleys. In spite of its comparatively small height, no serious attempt appears to have been made on Ghombu until that made at the beginning of November 1944 by Lt.-Col. C. R. Cooke and Mr. D. H. McPherson, whose brief notes on the possibilities of climbing the peak are given below:

The upper peak of the mountain consists of a narrow ridge about a mile in length, running' roughly north-east to south-west, the highest point, 20,872 feet, being at the north-east end of the ridge. The long north-west and south-east faces of the mountain rise extremely steeply from about the 16,000-foot level and appear unclimbable or at least exceedingly dangerous. The south-west face and adjacent ridges were not examined, but even if climbable, the obvious difficulty of the long summit ridge would render the approach from this end unsatisfactory. There remains the north-east face with the adjacent north and east ridges. Of these, the north ridge appears to offer the best route to the summit and it was along this ridge that our party hoped to climb Chombu. The upper portion of this ridge is shown in profile in the view of Chombu, taken from the Jha Chu valley while approaching the Himalayan Club Jha Chu Hut from Thangu (see plate (a)).

The whole of the north ridge is seen end on from the Jha Chu Hut (15,000 feet) and it was thought, from an examination of photographs, that it would be possible to climb this ridge from its base (about 16,000 feet) amongst the moraines at the head of the Chombu valley, the name used by our party for the valley leading directly towards Chombu from the Jha Chu Hut. A reconnaissance made by our party on arrival showed, however, that the lower part of the ridge is exceedingly steep and it is doubtful whether it is possible to climb it direct. The best alternative appeared to be to attempt to reach the ridge from the large snow- lirld which lies at the base of the north-east face. To gain the now-field there appeared to be several alternatives. The ice-fall immediately to the east of the north ridge was ruled out as dangerous and likely to take too much time; so also were the routes via the Sebu La and from the frozen lake in the Mome Samdong valley.

Fortunately an easy approach to the snow-field was discovered up the fourth couloir to the left of the north ridge, counting the ice-fall as the first (see Plate (b)). This fourth couloir was approached from the moraines at the head of the side valley to the left of our Chombu valley. The couloir is fairly steep in parts but not difficult, and leads to a well-defined snow col 17,800 feet on this edge of the snow-field about a mile from the base of the north-east face. A day only is necessary to reach this col from the Club Hut and our party reached it on 1st November. The whole north face of the mountain, including the couloirs and the col mentioned, are shown in the panoramic view of Chombu taken from a ridge to the north (Plate (b)).

The snow-field leading towards the final pyramid was, on a reconnaissance next day, easily crossed, but this was as far as our party reached. Our plan was, on the following day, to climb a steep narrow couloir, seen side view on the right centre of Frontispiece, leading from the snow-field to the north ridge. This couloir starts from the top of the ice-fall to the right of and at a lower level than the head of the snow-field, at about 18,000 feet, and strikes the north ridge at a well-defined break in the ridge, which can be made out in the view of the mountain from the Jha Chu valley, above the rocky cliff at the bottom left-hand corner of the photograph. We had hoped to establish Camp II on the ridge at this point—approximately 18,600 feet.

The ridge above this point appears narrow but climbable after a steep detour round one or two big rock gendarmes. We had allowed two days to reach that part of the ridge where it broadens out and becomes less steep and had provided for the establishment, if necessary, of a third camp on a small snow-field below and to the west of the ridge at approximately 20,000 feet. The first part of the summit ridge appears straightforward, but a steepish snow or ice-slope near the summit might force the climber out on to the north-west face for a short distance. Above that, there would appear to be no difficulty in reaching the summit.

Unfortunately our party was unable to attempt any part of the route from the snow-field upwards as a heavy snow-storm on the night of the 2nd/3rd November forced us to retreat to the Jha Ghu Hut and there was no time to make a fresh attempt before our leave expired.

It is considered that, given fine weather, it should be possible for an experienced party to climb Chombu in a period of from three to four weeks from Gangtok back to Gangtok. The weather in November is generally fine, but if an attempt were to be made another year, we should recommend the attack to be made a fortnight later, as by the first week of November the last of the monsoon storms should have passed, the clear cold weather set in, and the snow consolidated.

D. H. McPherson.

 

 

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A. J. M. Smyth and Wing-Commander Ford, in September 1942, made what is probably the first ascent of Lama Anden (19,250 feet). Just before their expedition (the information given in the Club circular was misleading) Goodfellow and Blandy had made an attempt which was frustrated by bad weather. Smyth's party (Climbers' Club Journal, 1943, p.91) made the ascent in astonishingly quick time, showing what a small party can do with efficient Sherpa organization. They were back in Calcutta within the fortnight.

On the march up conditions were bad and they got no view of the mountain. But they were more fortunate than Goodfellow in getting just the one fine break that made the climb possible.

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