DIRAN, 1968

[Translated by K. K. Guha and reprinted from the Mit- teilungen des Osterr. Alpcnvereins Akademische Sektion Graz, Vol 17, June 1969].

RUDOLF PISCHINGER

Diran or Minapin peak (7,266 m.) is situated at the western end of the Karakorams in the neighbourhood of the giants Malubiting (7,453 m.) and Rakaposhi (7,788 m.). The Hunza River flows 6,000 metres below. It is along this river that the wild jeep- able road runs to the village of Minapin (lying north-west of the peak). Base Camp is only a day's march from the village-reason enough for the popularity of the mountain, and it is strange that it remained unclimbed till 1968.

Diran (Minapin) area showing route of first ascent, 1968.

The first attempt on Diran was made by the German-Austrian Kurakoram Expedition in 1954 under the leadership of Mathias Rebitsch, and who explored the route from the north-west. The route follows a relative flat but tiered lower Minapin glacier up to 4,000 metres—the inner glacier lies just under the mighty north- west flank of Diran. The route then leads to a saddle west of the peak—the 1,500 metres climb to the ridge does not seem difficult when viewed from below.

Impressed by the Rebitsch Expedition report, an English expedition made an attempt in 1958. Warr and Hoyle succeeded in reaching the west saddle. A sudden change in weather conditions followed and they were never seen again.

In 1959, the German Karakoram Expedition (Hans-Jochen Schneider, leader) visited western Karakoram. The expedition was primarily scientific. This small team started out for Diran in June. They experienced considerable bad weather and their camps were swept by avalanches. Nevertheless Austrian Bardodej with the high-altitude porter Kabul fought their way to the western ridge and established a camp at 6,100 metres. Kabul although suffering from a severe throat ache was game on continuing the climb and in a surprisingly short time reached a point about 300 metres from the summit. Here, again, the weather changed for the worse and the porter's illness forced them to turn back.

In the spring of 1964, an attempt was made by two Austrians— Eggert and Frisch. They were constantly bogged down in snow. We were during the same period close by on Momhil Sar (7,342 m.) and experiencing similar bad weather and only the use of skis enabled us to climb the peak, in time. The two Austrians, how-ever had to withdraw, after gaining the ridge in the face of grave avalanche danger.

In 1965 a strong Japanese team from the Kyoto Mountaineering Federation attempted the mountain. They gained the west ridge and established a camp at 6,400 metres—highest so far. Once again a sudden change in weather, violent winds and snowstorms and exhaustion of the climbers forced the team to turn back.

It is surprising that a mountain of comparatively few technical difficulties could withstand such strong attempts. The reason could be that the close proximity to the road head provided hardly any acclimatization—3,500 metres height from the easily gained Base camp, from where the first 2,000 metres comprise dangerously tiered glacier followed by a 1,500-metre steep climb to the west e prone to the vilest of weather changes. All the expeditions had been in the spring, mainly for fear of getting caught in the summer monsoon and because of the treacherous speed of the glacier in the summer. The fear of the summer monsoon cannot be substantiated since in our experience summer was certainly better than spring in the whole of the Karakorams, including Nanga Parbat. The anxiety regarding the fast-flowing tiered glacier is real, but its speed in the spring is no less than in the summer.

The Karakoram Expedition in 1968 of the Graz Section had, as its members, Hanns Schell, leader, Rainer Goschl and I. Our original plan was to climb in the Hindu Raj, but several expeditions were already there. We then turned our attention to Kampire Dior (7,143 m.), the westernmost seven-thousander in the Kara- korams. At Gilgit, the authorities prohibited our entry to this area and we finally decided on Diran. The only problem we had to face was whether the peak could be climbed in the midsummer. At Hunza we were joined by a Pakistani student Durrani who served us as a wonderful companion and interpreter.

On 3 August we reached Taghafari with 19 porters ; a beautiful moraine valley at 3,500 metres. From here we entered the glacier for the first time to establish the Base Camp. Most of the porters refused to work on the glacier, so we had to ferry the loads ourselves with the remaining porters and the Base Camp was set up at 3,900 metres. The climb to the saddle seemed to be less tiered than we had expected—the weather was fair—we were confident.

With the help of the high-altitude porters we set up Camp I at c. 4,800 metres. The snow was firm and gave us no trouble uptil this stage. Above this the going gets steeper and the snow softer and deeper. Our first attempt to reach the saddle ended about 100 metres below it at a giant square crevasse. On the second attempt we turned this obstacle by the right-hand side and steered a path round it through a labyrinth of chaotic ice and a final steep pitch landed us on the saddle. Bad weather the next day forced us down to Base Camp. On 14 August we establish Camp II at 5,700 metres. That night a snowstorm blows and keeps us in our tents the whole of the next day but during the evening the sky clears. We start climbing the following morning. At a steep step, we traverse the south face. Then straight up the ridge which becomes narrower and corniced but changes to a wide steep slope. Camp III is established at 6,200 metres.

17 August morning is cloudless. The first rays of the sun light Rakaposhi and Nanga Parbat while we are putting our crampons and roping up. We start at 6 a.m. We break through the wind-slab snow again and again—slope minimum 45°. At last we reach a flat part on the ridge where we rest and appreciate the panorama. For use higher up we had brought with us a novel oxygen generator which would release free oxygen by decomposition of a chemical by the heat of the body. We connect up—it does not work and we waste a lot of time. We have carried this all the way here for nothing—we toss it away. Now we must hurry. We unrope for quicker movement. The ridge ends at a rock tower and the summit slope begins—it is 400 metres high. We rope up again half-way up this—we now fight the deep snow. A cold blast greets us as we near the summit. We are now surrounded by a sea of peaks and we fight back tears—is it the joy of achieving a hard earned summit or a manifestation of comradeship without which we would never have attained it, or is it merely the relaxation of tensed nerves and the knowledge that the worst is behind us ? We climb the last few metres together, but an awful disappointment awaits us. The highest point is still some distance away separated from us by a big plateau filled with deep soft snow! But even that is reached and at 4.15 p.m. we stand on the summit. Here we feel liberated from the earth. We recognize a few of the mountains amongst a whole sea of peaks—in the south is Nanga Parbat, Rakaposhi in the east just opposite us, the mighty Batura wall in the north, then the deep gorge of the Hunza and far in the north near the Chinese border the lonely giant Karun Kuh. In the north-east stands the Hispai Mustagh massif. Momhil Sar on which we have been four years ago appears as a beautiful pyramid. In the west we have ivralubiting and Haramosh, closing the panorama back to Nanga Parbat.

At 4.45 p.m. we start the descent and in the increasing fury of the storm and deep snow reach our camp at 8 p.m.

Three days later we attempt Mirshikar (5,445 m.) but the weather beats us back. On the last day we look back at Diran. We can see our route of ascent—how much energy, perseverance and courage has been expended on this mountain—even two lives have been lost—we have had more success than our predecessors, and as we watch, we realize that it has been a lucky gift to us. It will probably be quiet here for some time, or will some mountaineers attempt it by another route—the difficult north ridge ?

That night the weather changes-the winter has started. We me happy that we are no more on Diran.

Literature

M. Rebitsch: Deutsch-Osterreichische. Himalaya-Karakorum-Expedition,
1954. Jahrbuch des OAV, 1955. H. J. Schneider and R. Bardodej: Zwischen Karakorum and Hindukusch.
Jahrbuch des OAV, 1960. H. Eggert-Der Diran im westlichen Karakorum. OAZ, March/April 1965.
H. J. Schneider: Die deutsche Karakorum-Expedition, 1959. Bergeder Welt, 1960/61.
M. Rebitsch and W. Pillewitzer: Deutsch-Osterreichische Karakorum-
Expedition, 1954. Berge der Welt, 1955. Ryuichi Kotani: Diran, 1965. Sangaku, 1966.
H. J. Schneider and H. Baumert: Die Expeditionskarte Minapin/NW- Karakorum 1:50,000 (mit Kartenbeilage). Zeitschrift fur Verm- Wesen, 1968, Heft 11.

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