KISHTWAR HIMALAYA EXPEDITION, 1969¹

JOHN HARRISS and CHARLES CLARKE

Members: C. R. A. Clarke (leader), J. C. Harriss, Miss B. Beeham, H. N. Edmundson, R. Varma and Lt. K. I. Kumar (liaison officer).

NEAR to Kishtwar, a small hill town in eastern Kashmir, the river Chenab is joined by its main tributary from the north, the river Marau. Three glacial valleys drain south-west into the Marau, descending from an area of impressive but little known mountains some 50 miles south of Nun Kun. The northern valley, the Kiar nala has at its head the Prul glacier, and on the southern side is flanked by fine peaks, dominated by a six and a half thousand metre mountain called ⁶ Sickle Moon' by a small Austrian expedition which visited the neighbouring Donali glacier just after the war (see Fritz Kolb, Himalaya Venture, Lutterworth, 1959; and H.J., XIV, 1947, 'Third Choice. Adventures in the Padar Region '). The central glaciers, the Brammah complex lead to a number of high summits, Brammah (6,416 m.) a holy mountain among them. The southern valley, the Kiar nala has lower summits of about 5,800 m. at its head.

The Kishtwar Himalaya has been visited by only two parties, apart from Fritz Kolb's, both of them led by Charles Clarke. In 1965 a young party, mainly of Cambridge undergraduates effective¬ly explored both the central glacier system and the Kiar nala although bad weather conditions hampered attempts on Brammah and several other peaks. The 1969 expedition took place in September and October, after the monsoon, when we hoped that weather conditions would be more favourable.

Taking four large crates, 15 compo boxes, 10 kit-bags, large tent poles, rucksacks, ice-axes and the odd things that were nearly left behind, by rail and bus from Delhi to Kashmir is decidedly not a pastime to be recommended. Charlie grew visibly greyer as the two days wore on. Perhaps it was all made worse because we had been able to do our packing in Delhi in positive splendour thanks to the hospitality of one of the Indian princes. Whatever radical sympathies we may each have possessed, we had quelled them very successfully for over a week.

In Delhi too, Charlie, Barbara and I had met our Indian members, Rommel Varma, a farmer from Bihar, and Lt. Kiran Kumar, our Liaison Officer, sent to us through the Indian Mountaineering Foundation, through whom we had arranged our permits for the Inner Line. We were lucky indeed to have an L.O. such as Kiran. A very fit man—6 bloody tough \ to use one of his own favourite expressions—he also possessed a great gift for getting on with village people, even though his slap on the back in greeting always seemed likely to cause quite a bit of damage. He is the younger brother of Lt.-C'ol. N. Kumar, deputy leader of the 1965 Indian Everest Expedition.

Anyone who has experienced the third-class compartments of Indian Railways and the delights of hill buses will appreciate our relief in arriving in Kishtwar. I especially remember the wizened crone who took sombre delight in digging me hard in the ribs whenever sleep threatened to grant me release from the miseries of a bus-seat designed for a man a good foot and a half shorter than I.

But our relief was of course short-lived, for almost at once the game of haggling for porters and ponies began. Because the area hasn't been much visited, the local men are not so sophisticated in these matters as in some parts of the Himalayas, and on the whole we found them relatively easy, and sometimes delightful to get on with.

One of the attractive features of the Kishtwar Himalaya is that the mountains lie only four days' march from the roadhead. Four days' march, that is with ponies carrying all the expedition gear (we had 10 of them at the start). A reasonably fit man with a moderate load could do it in almost half the time. The path passes for much of the way along the pleasantly wooded upper slopes of the deep Marau gorge, and through hospitable villages, their wooden chalets often strongly reminiscent of those of the Swiss valleys. They are ethnically distinct transhumant pastoralists who occupy parts of the northern Punjab in the winter, and the valleys of the Kishtwar Himalaya in the summer months. A fine looking people, the women are especially remarkable, having their hair lied up in many small plaits, joined together finally in one long braid of goat hair and decked out with beads. Their heavy silver jewellery often includes necklaces made of big Victorian and George V rupees, a quaint memorial of Imperial might.

Once arrived in the village of Souede, situated at the junction of the three valleys, we elected first to visit the Brammah glacier. It was there that the 1965 expedition had made its base, and we thought that we might achieve more in an area of which we had some knowledge while we were getting fit and acclimatized. The fact that our strength had already been reduced when Rommel went down with amoebic dysentery in Kishtwar further encouraged this decision.

We set up a Base Camp in the place called Sattarchin, a grassy basin dammed up between the terminal moraine of the Brammah glacier and the lateral moraine of the glacier descending from below the peak called ⁶ Brammah's Wife' (5,279 m.) by the 1965 expedition, Brammah's nearest neighbour to the west. Almost immediately we set out to reconnoitre the southern arm of the Brammah glacier which had not been visited in 1965, paying heavily as we went for our lack of acclimatization. The Brammah glacier is not a pleasant place. A world of chaos painted in monotones black and grey, from which it was always a relief to climb up and away, or to descend back to Base Camp through the trees and along the tiny green meadows by the melt streams. But it is enclosed by spectacular cliffs and peaks, some of which inspire awe—especially the Tarparun massif which dominated our Base Camp to the north, and which includes the peak dubbed ⁶ Eiger' (about 6,000 m.) in 1965.

We struggled rather unhappily round the corner of the glacier to be greeted by a daunting sight of towering cliffs punctuated by icefalls, on which avalanches occurred with alarming frequency. There seemed to be no feasible route for a party of our strength, and so after a scramble up to a peak of about 5,200 m. on the western side we retreated back round the corner again and returned to base.

For the next few days the weather was monotonously grey, cloudy and drizzling but we succeeded none the less in reconnoi¬tring ' Brammah's Wife ' by its north-western ridge. However, at about 4,600 m. it was clear that a north flowing icefall which spilled over the arete to the west made for greater objective danger than we were prepared to face.

It was therefore with a great determination to 'get up some¬thing ' that we turned our attention to the northern ridge, the Tarparun massif. A shoulder not far above Base Camp seemed likely to provide a means of access to high peaks, possibly even the ' Eiger' itself. The shoulder was a dreadful flog, mostly over shaley screes and with little enjoyable climbing. After a pre- liminary sally we set up a camp at about 4,500 m. with our faithful servant Radha, whose lanky frame and graceful agility made him look like a wild Nureyev, carrying up three gallons of water for us, since we had found no streams. The going was pleasanter in the early morning when the scree was a little less mobile and at about 5,200 m. we got onto snow, and were soon climbing a very steep slope and negotiating small crevasses (one of us falling in them however!). Eventually we found ourselves on a small snow peak—and cut off from the main ridge by a col a little lower down, riven by crevasses which proved too wide to cross. Our disappointment at not getting onto the main ridge was at least salved by the fact that we had 'got up something’. And by the magnificence of our camp site.

So, not a little frustrated by now, we plodded up the lateral moraine of the glacier yet again, this time making for its southern cwm, beneath the eastern ridge of Brammah itself. And at last we made a really successful ascent, on a fine rock pinnacle of about 5,600 m. which we called 'Crooked Finger'. The climb involved an easy approach to the summit spire by the west ridge from a camp on an ice terrace at 4,200 m. A Grade III/IV rock climb led to the top, from which we were able to contemplate the impressive north-west face of 'Flat Top' (about 6,000 m.), called locally ' Pathutun', we think.

Once back at our camp on the glacier we decided to take advantage of the full moon to return to a more comfortable camp. It was a memorable march in the eerie light under a bright clear sky ; and a wonderful camp on a tiny meadow right at the edge of the glacier.

The time had come for Barbara to return home, and for Kiran to rejoin his army unit. We expected Henry Edmundson and a new liaison officer to join us in their place, but after waiting for the newcomers for a day Charlie and I pressed on to begin the explora¬tion of the upper reaches of the Kiar nala in the north. In the event, unbeknown to us, Henry had been detained by a combina¬tion of medical and political circumstances (the revolution in Libya), and the new L.O. simply failed to arrive. So for the whole of the month of October we were on our own.

We were lucky indeed to be the first visitors (so far as we know) from the outside world to so beautiful a valley as the Kiar nala. Shown on the maps we had available as being occupied for much of its length by 15 miles of glacier, it turned out to be formed by a series of deposition basins dammed up between the lateral moraines of glaciers and icefalls spilling into it from the south. Each of these small basins seemed to us like one of the basins of Central Asia in miniature as we advanced further and further up the valley, an effect heightened by the clouds of dust whipped up and driven along by the wind. And we knew as well that somewhere at the head of the valley lay a high route to Tibet. Not even periodic sousings in icy streams, nor an encounter with quicksands could detract from the sheer joy of exploring in such country.

All along the southern side the valley is flanked by impressive peaks, ⁴ Sickle Moon' among them. Cliffs descend vertically into the basins, and the summits are of considerable difficulty. Par¬ticularly magnificent is ⁶ The Cathedral \ a sort of Gothic spire (Pk. 5,370 m.). But again the frequency of avalanche makes for a high degree of objective danger, and we looked rather to the peaks of the northern side.

With the help of our trusty lads we set up an Advanced Base Camp in the place called Sarbal, using summer huts of the Gujar (massive affairs formed with great blocks, covered over with branches and earth, resting on huge beams). They provided a wel¬come haven, and life took on an even more pleasant aspect when the faithful Radha caught a stray sheep, left behind by the Gujars ...

We were interested especially in two 6,000-m. peaks above the high pastures of Wakbal and Sarbal, and set about exploring possible routes by climbing subsidiary peaks of about 5,000 m. on their southerly ridges—unpleasant scree scrambles. We were disappointed in an attempt on Pk. 6,200 m. by its south ridge, when we turned back at about 5,600 m. because of the risk presented by seracs.

So finally we tackled Pk. 6,392 m. by its long (4 km.) south-east ridge. We camped at about 5,000 m. after an exciting encounter with a herd of ibex, just in time for the start of a snowstorm which went on for three days, during which time we got rather efficient at the game of ⁶ Battleships \ The snow conditions that followed, in the little time we had left allowed us only to climb Pk. 5,255 m., the mountain's lowest satellite. But the ridge was good fun, and the weather fine, so that it made a good last day.

Our aim in both expeditions has primarily been to explore, and this last time we were not strong enough to do more than scratch the surface from a purely mountaineering point of view. It is a relatively accessible area, and there are lots of good climbs waiting to be done, for those who are able to visit it either before or after the monsoon.

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