YALUNGKANG: A TWO-PERSON ATTEMPT

CHRIS CHANDLER and CHERIE BREMERKAMP

KANGCHENJUNGA IS known to most people as the world's third highest mountain at 28,208 ft. Seen above Darjeeling in the mid- 1800's many people thought it was the world's highest mountain. This spectacular massif has five major summits, four of which are above 8000 m, hence the name 'five treasure houses of the snow'. In 1976 I had seen Kangchenjunga from the upper slopes of Everest nearly 100 miles to the west, shimmering like a Polynesian island in a sea of clouds. Known for heavy snowfall and many storms it is not surprising that by 1977 only six mountaineers had reached the main summit. The 1955 British party and the 1977 Indian assault were the only two successful climbs and they were from the southwest and northeast.

Even so, the first attempt at the North Face was made by Norman Dyhrenfurth in 1930. This expedition was abandoned after a high altitude porter was killed climbing the First Ice-Cliff. The second attempt from the north was made as recently as 1979 by a British party when three members of a four-person team climbed the North Col and then to the summit.4 The next year the Japanese climbed the true North Face with 15 members. No attempt had ever been made from the north on Yalungkang, Kangchenj unga's west summit. At 27,625 ft it is only about 600 ft lower than the main summit. Yalungkang had been climbed from the south previously, possibly as many as three times. The Kyoto University Academic Alpine Club Expedition placed Takeo Matsuda and Yukata Ageta on the summit on 14 May, 1973. Tragically, Yukata was unable to proceed down from a bivouac at 27,000 ft and when Takeo descended he was hit by a rock and fell to his death. In 1975 an eleven-member Austrian-German Expedition led by Aberli put nine members on the summit including one woman. They used oxygen for the last 2,000 ft. A third attempt was made in 1980 by the Mexicans via the Austrian-German route. But again the summit day resulted in disaster. The two summiters on the Austrian-German route. But again the summit day resulted in disaster. The two summiters on oxygen probably reached the summit but were never heard from again.

 

The spring of 1981 found us staring in awe below this magnificent cirque of hanging ice. A suitable objective for any large expedition. We both had been members of such expeditions in the past, however, found ourselves unsatisfied with the experience. Such an atmosphere can produce a fierce competitiveness among fellow-climbers that can lead to rash decisions. We desired the close communion between climbers that is most easily achieved with two or less. Decisions throughout the climb are totally our own. We are free from the control of camera crews or radio calls from base camp. It is truly our trip, not requiring high-altitude porters or fellow climbers to risk (heir lives. We know that in this manner we can climb to our limits, using all of our combined mountaineering experience, in a way not found on most large expeditions.

Directly below the summit dropped a classic rib down the face. In Seattle this had been our route of choice. Our optimism had been spurred on by the flattening if not flattering effect of wide-angle lens hots. This direct route along with descriptions of the approach to the face, which by Himalayan standards was fairly innocuous, convinced us that the two of us could climb quickly and safely.

We then began training our bodies to a level of efficiency that would allow us to cover large distances on the mountain in short periods of time Our objective was to establish three temporary camps up to the Face while becoming fully acclimatized. After which we planned to climb quickly and light-weight the last 7000 ft to the summit by use of bivouacs. Climbing in Europe, Canada and the U.S. in this style we used the same techniques as we would on Yalungkang. A yoga, exercise and running programme helped contribute to developing the mental discipline that we knew would be demanded of us.

All equipment was scrutinized. A special bivy sac and two half- sjics were designed and sewn by us to withstand the dampness of now caves. No oxygen or ladders would be taken and only 1500 ft ol fixed line. Radios were not considered necessary, at least by us; .although preferred by the Nepalese government. Finally we decided on little over 200 pounds of total gear and food that would last us six to eight weeks above base camp.

On 3 March 1981 we had arrived in Kathmandu. It had taken a week to hire staff members, obtain permits and buy supplies of food .-ihd equipment for the base camp. We arrived in Pang Pema (base camp) after a seventeen-day trek.

Pang Pema is at an elevation of 16,900 ft and is situated at the corner of the Kangchenjunga glacier as it branches into three lesser subsidia- rics; and only a short five-hour walk to the nearest village in Tibet. The In h alpine meadows attracted countless small ground rodents and hordB of Musk Deer whose curiosity and apparent lack of concern to our presence emphasized the remoteness of the area.

Tho first week we established Camp 1 and received our first view of I lie- direct North Face of Yalungkang. This was some mountain, a truly impressive wall of hanging ice curtains forming a cirque approxi- mately five miles across; the photographs we had seen of the mountain had completely failed to capture its immensity and grandeur. The classic rib which cut directly up the North Face, and was our route of choice initially, was entirely wiped clean by an avalanche of such impressive size that it not only eliminated any further thoughts on this route but rudely crossed the Kangchenjunga glacier and covered us at least two miles from the break-off point. Behind us the avalanche- prone face of the Twins constantly threatened us doom. A unanimous decision was not difficult in reaching. We proceeded up our alternative route towards the North Col and established Camp 2 at 19,700 ft in a relatively safe area. We were able to force a way through the first most difficult and objectively dangerous of the three ice-cliffs, fixing 300 ft of rope on only the steepest and occasionally short vertical sections of the route. Our third and final camp was placed at 21,300 ft and consisted of one small one-person tent just above the First Ice Cliff.

We had spent one month establishing three camps and were well acclimatized when the future of the trip was changed drastically. Upon reascending to the ice-cliff from Camp 2 we found all our cached supplies buried by an uninvited huge avalanche. Fortunately we were not present ourselves but almost all of our carefully planned gear had been buried by 60 ft of solid ice. We dejectedly returned to base camp and reassessed the possible options. This was certainly a very effective way of ensuring that we were indeed a light-weight expedition.

At Fang Pema spare crampon parts of several makes were assembled and pronounced inadequate but probably usable. Chapatis and eggs were added to our spartan six days of food rations. A newly arrived Czechoslovakian expedition graciously gave us 16 Bluet cartridges. Our bivy sac was gone but we had one snowfluke and a drinking cup that would act as shovels to build snow caves. No fixed line or rock gear remained and very little ice gear was left, A single half-sac was chosen as our total sleeping gear. With this equipment we reascended the 5000 vertical feet to Camp 3 on 6 May and prepared for the summit attempts.

The next day we plodded through waist-deep snow carrying 50-pound packs to 22,600 ft where we bivouacked in a crevasse that was only remarkable for its lack of headroom and a missing side, making us feel like two books on a bookshelf. We were faced with another ice-cliff (the second) and were on the same route as the Japanese in 1980.5 With no remaining fixed line our eyes found a fifty degree snow-and- ice couloir, previously unclimbed, that led to the North Ridge; although less direct, this would enable us to bypass the second and third ice- cliffs without fixing a single foot of rope. Besides, the deep snow was making headway difficult. The North Ridge would have a windscarred surface making steps easier. Also, the weight of our rucksacks was excessive, so out went a few ice-screws, karabiners and our extra rope.

 

On 8 May we ascended to within 200 ft of the North Ridge and bivouacked among several large boulders. At 24,000 ft the winds were severe but we were protected by the ridge above us. Later that even ing , the wind direction reversed and then we were in the full force of HO-knot winds. By morning we looked like verglas scarecrows with Uozen hair sticking out vertically. Inches of fresh spindrift covered u: and permeated all our equipment. With laughter helping to lighten iIn- moment, we spent the next day drying our gear and digging another now cave. We had lost a valuable day's time but felt relieved that we had warmth and shelter. This cave at 24.300 ft was comfortable inside even though a gale now howled outside.

By 10.30 a.m. the next morning we had climbed to within 300 ft of the top of the reek step called by the British the "Sugarloaf' via the North Kidge. Above were winds in excess of 100 knots and zero- visibility. Even though we were protected by the Sugarloaf somewhat, we were in the midst of a major storm. Out came the snowfiuke and drinking cup, and in several hours we had ourselves a shelter (at 24,900) ft) from the raging storm that followed.

We were now unable to go up or down. Little remained of our food iiiul fuel. How long can one exist at this altitude witlh little to eat? Kneh cave had taken much strength to build. With marginal oxygen outside the cave, inside there was even less. In this cave we could both lie down but as the hours went by our margin of safety was growing thin. Our thoughts turned dream-like. Starved for oxygen our brains slowly continued to feed our fears. But experience prevailed, we melted snow and forced ourselves to rehydrate fully. Forty-eight hours had passed when the Nepalese side of the ridge began to clear. During intermittent whiteouts we descended the steep avalanche prone slopes quickly to the relative comfort of our one-person tent at Camp 3.

For four days the constant snowfall was a good test for our durable one person tent but this storm ended and with clearing skies on 17 May we quickly returned the 2000 vertical feet up the couloir to our snow cave on the North Ridge. Digging out the entrance we found our cave intact. What luxury.

On 18 May we climbed past our last snow cave to the steep rock step (Sugarloaf) and on to the scree-covered slopes above where we got the first complete view of the final summit section. Everest and Makalu, visible at dawn, were now obscured by monsoon clouds. Our food and fuel were almost finished. Having negotiated the short but steep rock step of the Sugarloaf successfully we were unprepared for the additional 300 ft steep rock bands on the summit pyramid. Even if we could climb them without protection we would be unable to rappel down without so much as an anchor. The winds whipped the upper slopes fiercely and the temperature dipped below minus 35 degrees centigrade at night. During the evening twilight we dug another cave at 25,900 ft, the last of seven bivouacs above 21,300 ft.

The windswept ridge reminded me of the South Col on Everest. In 1976 we had reluctantly used tents there rather than snow caves. After lour days of constant high winds all tents had been reduced to ribbons of fabric. Now our survival depended on digging a cave among small boulders and ice-chunks. As the temperature dropped we worked as fast as our panting lungs would allow. Slowly we stuffed ourselves into a sitting position with the stove on our lap. At least we were out of the wind, but claustrophobia was at a maximum. Every turn of the head sent ice-crystals down our necks. Worse yet, oxygen in the cave was practically non-existent.

Under the night sky we could see far into Tibet and could locate Pang Pema 9000 ft below. Night in the cave brings a dream-like state that doesn't really qualify as 'sleep'. The now familiar deep feeling emerges, dark and ominous, full of anxiety and images of death. Perhaps it is to remind us visitors of our frail nature. But our numbed brains coexist with this feeling the same way they deal with all the effects of altitude. The icy night slowly changes into a monsoon morning and we stretch our bodies into motion.

19 May was our fifteenth day on marginal supplies and as we approached the summit block of Yalungkang to about 26,000 ft we realized that to attempt the steep rock-and-ice pitches above would be succumbing to a seductively alluring but almost certain death-trap. Our remaining hardware was simply insufficient for such difficulties. Main summit of Kangchenjunga was appealingly near and climbable with our available resources but unfortunately not on our Nepalese climbing permit. Few words were spoken. The smile for the camera looked more like tears. We reluctantly decided to descend and return another year with fresh equipment, renewed energy and pinker lips. The experience taxed our abilities and perseverance to the extreme limits; the sense of release was enormous. Too bad the summit remained elusive.

 

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