KHINYANG CHHISH, 1965

DR. H. SHIRAKI

Following its successful expedition to Baltoro Kangri (7,312 metres) in 1963,1the Tokyo University Ski Alpine Club was eager to send a second expedition to one of the unclimbed seven- Ihousanders in the Karakoram Range. Permission was granted lor Khinyang Chhish (7,852 metres) on the north side of the Hispar Glacier and thus, supported by the University itself, the Tokyo University Karakoram Expedition, 1965, was organized. Our team was composed of 14 members: myself (47, Leader), N. Ishikawa (34, Deputy Leader), K. Itoh (34), M. Shimoishizaka (28), S. Seki (29), K. Abe (27), T. Nakamura (25), T. Nishiya (26), K. Murakami (26), A. Makinouchi (24), K. Kano (23), K. Inoue (24), H. Ogura (34) and Mohammed Asif (20). All but the last two of the members belonged to the TUSAC. Asif, who was a student of Karachi Medical College and also a member of the Cabinet of the Nagar State, joined us at Karachi, giving our team a pleasant international character. His ability in language as well as in mountaineering was of the greatest help to us.

From the beginning, our expedition was badly affectcd by the border trouble between Pakistan and India that broke out just at the time. A week after the dispatch of four members and all loads from Yokohama, we were informed that the Pakistan Government had withdrawn their permission because of the strained situation on the borders. Immediately I Hew to Karachi and succeeded in re-obtaining the permission, being helped by the devotion of many people who supported our expedition. However, further formalities of regaining permission involved a delay of more than two weeks which caused many difficulties later on.

Our knowledge of Khinyang Chhish had been based on the reports of many pioneers who had visited the Hispar Glacier and the distinguished peaks surrounding it. But we owed much useful information on this mountain to the Pakistan-British Forces Karakoram Expedition who tried it unsuccessfully in 1962.2Judging from their report that the climb would be a big one, we did our best to make the supplies fully adequate for a hard climb. The loads amounted to over six tons, including four sets of oxygen aspirators, 3,600 metres of rope and one set of receiving equipment, which proved to work satisfactorily at the Base Camp to receive the weather map broadcast from New Delhi.

All of the loads were disembarked at Karachi on May 30, 1965, and were piled up in front of the tiny rest-house of Nagar on June 23. It was a hard and yet rewarding task to transport the loads across the deserts, over the mountains close to Nanga Parbat and along the terrible pass by the Hunza River.

On June 18, five members, led by Ishikawa, set out to reconnoitre the west and north-west side of the mountain. They went further into the Khinyang Glacier to find that its west side was securely guarded by rock precipices with hanging glaciers and the only possible route would be its north ridge, which connected Khinyang Chhish and Distagil Sar, interrupted by a 7,108- metre peak and a pass leading to the Yazghil Glacier. The north ridge itself was easy and the route to the pass and to the peak seemed feasible too; however, it was too long a route to be covered by our party as it required six to seven high camps. On the other hand, the south ridge which the Pakistan-British party chose in 1962 looked shorter but more difficult. It was a thin and complicated ridge featuring many peaks and spires, each of which the former party had pertinently named. However, they underestimated the route beyond the Ice Cake where, as it turned out correctly, our reconnaissance party estimated two and preferably three camps would be necessary instead of ‘a moderately steep climb to the summit'. After a thorough discussion, the reconnaissance party decided to take the south ridge as our climbing route to the summit; their conclusion was that the south ridge was difficult but possible.

Sketch-map of Khinyang Chhish

Sketch-map of Khinyang Chhish

Meanwhile, at Nagar, the main party was busy preparing for the journey to the Base Camp. The Mir of Nagar was very cooperative and we could hire 235 low-altitude porters without difficulty. As regards the high-altitude porters, however, we had to accept his recommendations against our selection. I feel obliged to confess that we are among those who suffered from Nagar porters. Although endowed with natural ability for mountaineering, they are uneducated, not bravely tempered and know nothing of mountaineering. Later, at Camp I, we had to show them ourselves how to use ice-axes and crampons to walk, to climb and stop on the snow slope. We were also forced to confine them to the lower ferries for fear of an accident.

After a great confusion at the distribution of food among porters, which lasted until midnight, the main party left Nagar on June 24. We travelled along the desolate Hispar River and four days later, being joined by the reconnaissance party, established the Base Camp at the foot of the south ridge. It was a lovely meadow at about 3,800 metres, where the Pakistan-British party also placed their Base Camp. Across the vast Hispar Glacier, high up in the sky, soared the pyramidal peak of Makrong Chhish (6,608 metres) from whose precipice avalanches came thundering down every day.

Twenty-five extra porters were selected concurrently with the establishment of Base Camp so as to expedite the progress to Camp I, which was erected at an altitude of 4,800 metres just below the snow level at that time. Following exactly the same route as did the former party, we managed to pitch three tents of Camp III on an airy arete just beyond the Bull's Head. We were impressed by the ingenious route-finding of the forerunners on the sheer cliff of the Bull's Head. If we had not been guided by the remaining red fixed ropes, we should have wasted no less time than they did. We soon succeeded in stringing a 120-metre steel wire rope across this cliff to transport the loads in the air. The device enabled us to carry a load of 20 kg. in 15 minutes, from the top of Bull's Head directly down to Camp III, requiring a single operator at each end.

The Ogre's Traverse on its east flank was another annoyance for us with its rotten snow. On their first return from Camp IV, all of the high porters stubbornly refused to cross the route and it was only after long persuasion mixed with threatening that they consented to risk the traverse. We arrived at Camp III at 10 p.m. utterly tired. Subsequently, we always started from Camp III at four in the morning in order to cross it at an early hour.

After wasting two days at Camp II, due to a heavy snowfall, we reached the Snow Dome on July 15, and there we erected Camp IV at 5,900 metres. The Snow Dome was provided with a widely flattened top from where we could command a panoramic view extending tens of kilometres around. Now we were confronted with an entirely new and unknown route ahead of us. There lay a blade-thin snow ridge armoured with cornices for about 800 metres, which led to a vast and steep ice wall of the First Tier, intervened by the peculiarly shaped rock spire of the Scissors. All these obstacles seemed to deprive us of an optimistic outlook and even the courage to attempt the summit.

View from camp VI

View from camp VI

Cornice Arete beyond camp IV and the scissors

Cornice Arete beyond camp IV and the scissors

Nakamura climbing a crevasse on the ice cake

Nakamura climbing a crevasse on the ice cake

Eventually, full seven days were spent to secure the route and fix the ropes to reach the First Tier, where we placed Camp V on Inly 24. During these days, several members occupied Camp IV and worked out the route, each leading the team in turn, by the lixed ropes and bucket steps. The route ran on an exposed rock cliff hanging over the Pumarikish Glacier, skirted cornices, traversed a steep snow face sloping down to the Khinyang Glacier, crawled along a fragile snow band at the foot of Scissors and climbed up the ice wall of the First Tier involving the cutting of hundreds of footsteps.

Next morning, Shimoishizaka, Nakamura and Kano set out from Camp V early in the morning, laden with the climbing gear. They waded through waist-deep snow up to a big vertical crevasse which was conquered with a rope-ladder. Then, four dangerous lengths on an icy face led them to the west shoulder of the Ice Cake. They erected Camp VI at 6,900 metres near its top which was attained after one hour's struggle on a deep snow slope.

The weather, which continued miraculously fine during this period, developed symptoms of deterioration. This was forecast beforehand by the receiver to last for a few days. All members, including those who had been engaged in lower ferries, met at Camp IV in order to avoid the bad weather and to prepare for the next and last stage to the summit. Contrary to our anticipation, however, the snowstorm raged for nine days incessantly and confined us there until August 6. Obviously the autumn was approaching and our schedule to the summit became pressing.

On August 7, we resumed our procedure ; eight members upwards and the rest down to the Base Camp to be in charge of replenishment. Persistent bad weather hindered the progress and it was after a week's strenuous effort against a difficult route over the Ice Cake that Nakamura and Makinouchi erected Camp VII in a snow-field at 6,900 metres. To reach there, they had to push their way along an unstable cornice arete for 200 metres, followed by a sheer ice cliff necessitating 60 metres of fixed rope and one length of rope-ladder, leading into a labyrinth of snow and ice. Camp VII was occupied by five members: Shimoishizaka, Seki, Nakamura, Makinouchi and Inoue, who were the members of the summit team and its support team.

From Camp VII, they could make a close examination of the way up to the summit. It peeped out just at the left shoulder of the Tent Peak, the sharp ridge of which sloped sharply down to the left to form the levelled top of the Triangle Peak. Their plan was that they could pitch Camp VIII (attack camp) at the foot of Tent Peak and from there two members would be able to scale the summit in one day, returning back to Camp VIII. Their food, fuel and rope (we had consumed most of the 3,600 metres of rope already) seemed just enough to accomplish the plan.

After experiencing a narrow escape from an avalanche which took place right under their steps, they traversed the Pumarikish side of the Rock Peak, negotiated many snow-covered icefalls and pitched the temporary Camp VIII on August 18. It was only a two-hour climb from Camp VII, but fog and snow with a visibility of 5 metres forced them to abandon the attempt to go further that day. The summit members occupied the tent, and the remaining three returned to Camp VII.

August 19 dawned clear and still. Two members, joined by three support members, crossed a vast snow basin and crawled up a steep snow face aiming at a rock situated on the ridge about one-third of the way to the top of Triangle Peak. The first of them reached there at about 11 o'clock. It was a sharp ridge with an ascent angle of 15 degrees. Though they were threatened by its airiness, the chest-deep snow seemed to secure the way and, after a brief discussion, it was concluded that roping was unnecessary. Nakamura led the team and Makinouchi followed close to him. Inoue, about 10 metres behind them, had just reached the ridge and was taking a short rest, his back facing to them. Seki and Shimoishizaka were still on the slope, struggling in the snow. Suddenly, Makinouchi felt a queer shock in the snow accompanied by a dull sound. He jumped to the right side of the ridge and barely managed to stop himself. Inoue turned his head alarmed by the sound. The ridge was empty ; only a trace of slab avalanche approximately 1 metre deep and 10 metres wide remained. Looking down into the left cliff, he saw nothing but a splash of avalanche some 1,000 metres below toward the Khinyang Glacier. Nakamura was lost. The four survivors gathered on the ridge, but all they could do was to shout Nakamura's name in vain. It was 11.20 a.m. and the altitude was estimated at 7,200 metres. This is the highest point they attained.

At this moment, Ishikawa was near the Base Camp, observing the summit team through a telescope. He could catch sight of five small dots approaching the Triangle Peak at an almost imperceptible pace, but he soon lost sight of them due to a patch of cloud passing by. The next day would be the first and probably the last chance for the summit. The weather seemed to be in our favour and, though anxious, Ishikawa believed in our success.

At noon, he had a talk with the summit team through the radio and was informed of the accident. Struck with the sudden tragedy, he ordered them to evacuate the spot, while he immediately dispatched a rescue team to the Khinyang Glacier where probably Nakamura still lay. The rescue team arrived at the foot of the grand precipice of Triangle Peak before sunset. The place was identified by a red flag which the summit team stuck on the ridge so as to indicate the spot of accident. It was a desperate cliff of some 2,000 metres in height, and was unattainable because of endless crevasses and a rock wall washed by incessant avalanches. Nothing was left for them but to search the face from a distance using a telescope. The rescue team was reinforced by the survivors who reached the Base Camp on August 22, but a heavy snowfall made the recovery of the body impossible.

All in deep sorrow, we left the Base Camp on August 27 to arrive at Gilgit in the midst of the Pakistan-India border trouble. The trouble was so big an obstacle to our way back to Japan that the last of us reached Tokyo on October 8.

Thus our expedition ended. We have lost Nakamura: an excellent mountaineer and a great friend. His memory will live for ever in all of us who have climbed with him.

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