HIMALAYAN JOURNAL: VOLS. XIX-XXIX (1955/56-69)

AAMIR ALI

1. Everest 29,028 ft (8848 m)
2. Nepal and the Eastern Himalaya Kangchenjunga 28,208 ft (8598 m)
3. Makalu 27,825 ft. (8481 m)
4. Dhaulagiri 26,795 ft (8167 m)
5. Other Annapurnas
6. Cho Oyu, 26,750 ft (8153 m)
7. Manaslu 26,760 ft (8156 m)
8. Jannu 25,294 ft (7709 m)
9. Nuptse 25,850 ft (7880 m)
10. Ama Dablam 22,494 ft (6856 m)
11. Machhapuchhare 22,958 ft (6997 m)
12. Pumori 23,442 ft (7115 m)
13. The Karakorams
14. K2, 28,250 ft (8611 m)
15. Nanga Parbat, 26,658 ft (8125 m)
16. Rakaposhi, 25,550 ft (7789 m)
17. The Muztagh Tower 23,860 ft (7272 m)
18. Broad Peak 26,414 ft (8047 m) and Chogolisa 25,118 ft (7656 m)
19. Masherbrum, 25,660 ft (7821 m)
20. Gasherbrum I or Hidden Peak 26,470 ft (8068 m)
21. Disteghil Sar 25,868 ft (7773 m)
22. Haramosh 24,270 ft (7397 m)
23. They climbed Kunotak 19,256 ft.
24. The End of the Golden Age?
25. Ladies' Expeditions
26. Climbing for Fun

 

THIS ARTICLE PRETENDS to cover 11 volumes of the Himalayan Journal, which report on 14 years of Himalayan activity. The volumes amount to 2095 pages and contain 193 major articles of which all but five relate to climbing or trekking. In addition, there are the usual Expedition Notes, Book Reviews, Obituaries, Club Proceedings, and a few Editorials.

XIX-55/56 was still edited by Col. H.W. Tobin, though assisted by V.S. Risoe; it was printed in Calcutta. Tobin died in January 1957. XX and XXI were edited by Trevor Braham, assisted by G.C. Band and then by J.A. Jackson. XXII changed format and cover; it was edited by K. Biswas (Braham had left India), as were XXIII-XXVII, but for the last he had the assistance of J.A.K. Martyn. XXVIII-XXIX were edited by S.S. Mehta and the advertisements were relegated to the end of the volume: a salutary move.

In an Editorial in XXV-64, Lt.-Gen. Sir Harold Williams, President of the HC wrote, 'So many excellent mountaineering journals are now published .... that the time has come to consider what our future editorial policy should be. We should continue to publish accounts of expeditions mounted from India, Pakistan and Nepal, particularly those small unelaborate attempts which are not likely to be adequately reported elsewhere and which may well form the pattern of much climbing in the Himalayas in the future...... There is, too, a wider field in which the Journal has published in recent years - accounts of the fauna and flora of the Himalayas and popular scientific information about the mountains themselves....We appeal to members to do all they can to ensure that papers of general interest about aspects of Himalayan life and the Himalayas themselves are made available to the Editor...."

Several major peaks were climbed for the first time: K2 and Cho Oyu, 1954; Kangchenjunga and Makalu, 1955; Jannu and Pumori, 1962; Broad Peak, 1957; Chogolisa, 1958;Pumori, 1962; Masherbrum, 1960 - and many others. The Himalayan Mountaineering Institute, Darjeeling, was opened by Pandit Nehru in 1954 with Maj. "Nandu' Jayal as Director, Tenzing Norkhay as Chief Instructor, and Angtharkay as one of the Instructors. Nandu Jayal led the second ascent of Kamet in 1955 and on the same day Gurdial Singh and John Dias climbed Abi Gamin. 'A noteworthy example of the great strides forward which mountaineering has taken in India," noted the Club Proceedings, XIX-55/56.

'Climbing standards have risen enormously; indeed the whole concept of tackling the large mountains has undergone a change......... " the Club Proceedings in XXI-58 recorded. 'On the whole, the emphasis has been more on the modestly- equipped expedition; and perhaps as anticipated, popularity appears to have shifted from Nepal to the Karakoram............. Only two 8000 m. peaks remain unclimbed. Dhaulagiri, 26,795 ft. with its objective dangers¹, had turned back many strong attempts...Gosainthan, 26,291 ft. situated behind the Yellow Curtain is of course inviolable."

By 1958, it was reported that the HC had 618 members of whom 168 were resident in India. Of the original 127 founders, 34 were still members.

The Statesman had launched an appeal for funds to build a house for Tensing; this was oversubscribed and the surplus was given to the HC which set up a Sherpa Trust, later transferred to the Sherpa Climbers" Association.

 

 

After the British success on Everest in 1953, the mountain had a rest for three years - about the last breathing space it was to be allowed.

The Swiss having tried to pre-empt the British in 1952, went back in 1956, but this time it was not our Genevese friends Dittert, Lambert, Roch, and co. but climbers from across the Roestigraben, from German-speaking Switzerland. Albert Eggler gave an account of their 1956 expedition in XX-57, described later by Brig. Gyan Singh as 'powerful but little-publicised................ excellently organized and quick to capitalise on favourable weather conditions. '²

There were eight climbers. Their Sirdar, Pasang Dawa Lama, became ill so Dawa Tenzing took over. Schmied and Marmet reached the summit first; the next day Reist and von Gunten followed suit. At Base Camp, they received the congratulations of Sir John Hunt, Hillary and Tenzing. 'It was a proud moment for us, for we had profited by the experience of these men who were first on Everest three years earlier."

To round things off, Luchsinger and Reiss climbed Lhotse, 27,890 ft. 'The summit cone was so sharp that it was not possible to stand on it in the gusty wind."

'In the new era that appears to have begun since the fall of the giants, there are welcome signs that the competitive spirit, which is alien to mountaineering, is disappearing," wrote the starry-eyed HJ in its Club Proceedings, XXI-58. Rather like those who, after the carnage of world wars, believed that men would henceforth settle their differences peacefully. James Roberts, the dean of climbing in Nepal, was more realistic in XXIV-62/ 63 ('Dhaula Hiinal"): 'Those that prophesied that the climbing of Everest and a few of the other giants would free Himalayan climbing of the trammels of ambition and altitude have not so far been proved right." And more downright was the reaction of Paul Brian of the Scottish Expedition, 1968. Dr. R.A. North in 'The Descent of Lunkho" XXIX-69, describing their disappointment because an Austrian party had beaten them to the summit, wrote, 'We had been forestalled from another valley; my regret, Ian"s chagrin, Paul's "the bastards"."

Though Everest is not in India, we Indians have always had some sort of proprietorial feeling about it; I am sure if we were Nepalese we would resent this. (How difficult it is to be Big Brother!) So, I suppose it was inevitable that the Indians felt that they must climb Everest and prove something, and expeditions were mounted in 1960, 1962 and 1965.

Indian climbing had come a long way and surprisingly fast. But to go for the 'big one" was surely nationalism more than mountaineering. Brig. Gyan Singh, in 'Indians on Mount Everest, 1960," XXII-59/60, gave an account of the first attempt. A pre-Everest course in autumn 1959 enabled the selection of 13 climbers. From Camp VII at 27,600 ft. Gombu, Sonam Gyatso, and Capt. Kumar attained 28,300, but 'strong gales whipped the men's faces with such force that they had to turn sideways to advance at all." They were forced to retreat and 24 hours later the monsoon broke, a week earlier than expected.

'If we were disappointed," wrote Gyan Singh, 'we had also reason to be proud. Mountaineering is, for Indians, a relatively new sport. Yet we had been fit, and I think properly so, to challenge the world's loftiest summit....Not the least of our achievements was the stimulus to mountain climbing in India provided by the publicity which accompanied our efforts.'

Then the Chinese claimed they had pre-empted the Indians, stating that three Chinese mountaineers had reached the summit on 25 May 1960, the first successful climb from the North. They had had at most two years climbing experience; 25 other mountaineers reached altitudes of 8,100 to 8,700 m. The expedition consisted of 214 persons, one third of whom were Tibetans. It included workers, 'serfs who had just been freed from serfdom.' There were 17 Masters of Sport, 18 First Grade Sportsmen and a great number of Second Grade Sportsmen.

The average age was 24.

'The Conquest of Mount Everest by the Chinese Mountaineering Team,' by Shih Chan-Chun, in XXIII-61, is reprinted from the Alpine Journal. It is quite frankly an unbelievable account and the editor of the AJ, T.S. Blakeney, adds over six pages of comment, to show that the claim is 'not proven".

The New Yorker used to have a regular feature, 'Items we never finished reading..." Shih Chan-Chun's account would qualify for that. Here are some extracts. They are not meant to be funny.

'The Base Camp had been established by the advance party...which, battling against hurricanes and snowstorms for half a month, had also set up Camp I and Camp II and Camp III...... the team gathered in the clearing of the Base Camp to watch our national flag hoisted to the strains of our National Anthem. Every one of us had the same will: "We will never give up until Mount Everest is conquered." '

'Tornados tore past the slopes and churned up huge columns of snow....with their accurate judgement and excellent mountaineering technique the scouts inched their way up, cutting each step with their ice-axes. Danger lurked at every step of their march '...the Second Step (8570-8600 m) which had been regarded by Western Mountaineers as unscalable. At 21.00 hours Peking time we reached the foot of the three metres high vertical slab at the top of the Second Step."

All times given are Peking time. Could patriotism be more devoted? Blakency's calculations showed that the final climb was at night, whatever it was in Peking.

At 8830 m their oxygen ran out. 'They glanced at each other. It was Wang Fu-chou who spoke first: "We are shouldering the glorious task of storming the summit. Can we turn back ?" "Press ahead!" was the determined answer." The final climb took 19 hours during which they had not a mouthful of food or water, except a piece of dried mutton and some ginseng soup.

It was 04.20 hours Peking time. 'With great excitement, Konbu drew from his rucksack the five-star national flag and a small plaster bust of Chairman Mao Tse-tung, placed them on a boulder and secured them with small stones.

'Summing up our conquest of Everest, we must in the first place attribute our victory to the leadership of the Communist Party and the unrivalled superiority of the socialist system of our country."

Had they mistaken Rum Doodle for Everest? What staggers one in such an account is not whether they really got to the summit, but that human beings can be so completely brainwashed and reduced to talking such drivel.³

The Indians were back on Everest in 1962, and Suman Dubey described this in XXIV-62/63. John Dias was the leader and the redoubtable Angtharkay, now 55 years old, was the Sirdar.

Nawang Tsering was hit by a boulder 'the size of a watermelon" which shattered his liver, and he died 12 hours later. A few days later, an avalanche on the Lhotse face poured straight down on Sonam and his group. Four Sherpas were swept down 600 ft to the edge of a crevasse; there were two cases of broken bones and two of severe shock.

The great rush to Everest had not yet begun, and if my mathematics is correct, this was only the sixth expedition to get to South Col. Yet Suman wrote, 'It seems strange to find such a junk heap at this outpost of existence. Hundreds of oxygen bottles and thousands of tins lie uselessly about. The most precious items recovered were unopened tins of ham, soups and beans. I also found a peculiar plastic contraption which looked extremely scientific and efficient but without any apparent use on the South Col."

On the summit attempt, Gurdial felt dehydrated and 'told Hari (Dang) to take his place instead of endangering the success of the others... a typically generous gesture." Sonam Gyatso, Mohan Kohli and Hari got to about 28,600 ft. but clouds enveloped them, conditions deteriorated and they turned back at 3 pm. They had a nightmare descent; at one point Sonam slipped taking Hari with him, but luckily Mohan held them. They were lost and thought they would go direct to the South Col, but blundered into their tent at 10 p.m.

The Americans came next, and unlike what one may expect of the richest country in the world, they had found it very difficult to raise funds. Norman G. Dyhrenfurth had been on Dhaulagiri with the Swiss in 1960, he now led the American expedition to Everest in 1963. The team consisted of 19 Americans (including William Unsoeld, James Ramsey Ullman, Barry Bishop, Jim Whittaker, Lute Jerstad) and one Britisher (Lt.-Col. J.O.M. Roberts, naturally, as transport officer), and a liaison officer nicknamed 'Noddy". Nawang Gombu of the HMI, who had been with the Indians in 1960, played an important part in the expedition. This included a scientific programme in glacio- physics, human behaviour and biology. They had 909 porter loads.

Dyhrenfurth and Unsoeld told the story in 'Mount Everest, 1963," XXV-64, and it is one that holds interest from beginning to end. The approach march itself provided adventure. A chain bridge across the Likhu Kliola broke and several porters fell into the torrent; fortunately the only damage was bruises and cuts. Two days later a terribly burned woman was brought to the camp. A1 Auten the communications officer contacted Kathmandu via a HAM in Australia and the only helicopter available was sent out to fetch her; she made an amazing recovery in hospital. Then there was small pox; another message to Kathmandu and vaccine was sent by runner and plane; over a thousand people were vaccinated and the disease was contained.

In the Khumbu icefall, an ice cliff collapsed burying Jake Breitenbach and killing him instantly. It was impossible to recover his body. Ang Pema had mild concussion and had to be carried back.

Well, of course they got to the summit all right, passing the remains of the camps that their predecessors had left behind - including that of Raymond Lambert and Tensing in 1952. May 1st, Big Jim Whittaker and Gombu went up though the weather was stormy. After the bally-hoo of whether it was Hillary or Tensing who had first set foot on the summit, it is worth quoting their arrival: 'Big Jim approached what appeared to be the final dome, he stopped and waited for Gombu to come up to him: "You first, Gombu." "No, you go first," was the small man's reply. Then Jim said, "Let's go together," and side by side they walked the last five feet.' (They didn't disclose the names of the summit team, but pressure from outside was overwhelming, and 'as in the case of Hillary and Tensing, all our efforts at stressing the team effort were largely in vain.')

But they had finished their oxygen. On the way down, Jim 'found it necessary to heed what would appear to be the highest call of nature in mountaineering history.' The effort of unharnessing and re-harnessing took time, Gombu was on top of the South Summit. Jim climbed up to him, lost his footing and found 'himself hanging from the rope upside down, with the pack pulling him backwards. He shouted, but in the howling of the wind Gombu could not hear him and kept pulling on the rope with all his might, making it even harder for Jim to right himself.' At last he managed and climbed up at five minutes per step.

Edmund Hillary, camped at the foot of Taweche, had 'looked up toward Everest on May 1 and declared the weather "impossible." ' Down at the lower camps, they had not expected an attempt to be made that day. Dyhrenfurth and Ang Dawa were waiting for them at Camp VI with hot drinks. They all ran out of oxygen and the descent to the Col was a nightmare: 'by the time we reached the Col we were as close to death from oxygen-starvation as I ever hope to get.'

The Sherpas had more high carries than on any previous expedition. 'I am convinced that their amazing performance was due primarily to the leadership and popularity of Jimmy Roberts.'

They had decided to abandon the idea of Nuptse and Lhotse but after the summit had been duly climbed, they turned their attention to the West Ridge.

Camp IV-W was carried away by wind at night with four Sherpas and two climbers; miraculously it stopped on the brink of the Rongbuk glacier. Jerstad and Bishop went to the summit by the voie normale and waited for Unsoeld and Hornbein coming up from the West Ridge. They gave up and began their descent, the West Ridgers reached the summit at 6 pm. an amazing performance. 'My thoughts were heavily weighted with history - the early attempts via the North Col - the drive and vision of such men as Mallory, Norton, Smythe, Shipton and Tilman...." wrote Unsoeld. They raced down and caught up with Jerstad and Bishop at 9.30, but had to bivouac. Unsoeld and Bishop had frozen feet and from Namche they were helicoptered to Kathmandu.

J.O.M. Roberts" experience with transport and Sherpas on Everest with the Americans in 1963 was distilled in his report in XXIV-62/63. In the same issue, he explored new country with a light party and four Sherpas, finding the way to Dhaula IV. An avalanche buried boots and crampons and the rope that he had 'cleverly brought, would round himself, from England."

So, back to the Indians, and when they do get to the top, it's a population explosion there as well. The 1965 expedition placed nine men on four separate ropes on the summit! And the leader, Lt.-Cdr. M.S. Kohli, I.N. wrote Nine Atop Everest in XXVI- 65, a very readable account.

Kohli told us that there had been 21 attempts on Everest, 14 full scale expeditions, 4 reconnaissances, 3 solo trips. Three expeditions had succeeded.

The Indians were on the South Col by 12 April; it was already being called the 'highest junkyard in the world."⁴ They found 300 ft of rope left by the Americans (and left several hundred feet of their own); hundreds of feet of cine film, oxygen regulators, strips of tent fabrics, 'and most surprising of all, Hari Dang's wallet containing a couple of hundred rupees in Nepalese and Indian currencies of the 1962 Indian Expedition!" (What was Hari hoping to buy up there?) They also found some cheese and Ovaltine; near base camp they found some Swiss leftovers: oxygen, karabiners.

Everyone except Gurdial used oxygen on the South Col. Their high camp was at 27,930, the highest ever. Cheema and Gombu reached the summit together; on the way down it was storming, and Cheema suffered from snow blindness. Sonam Gyatso (at last) and Sonam Wangyal; Vohra and Ang Kami; Rawat, Phu Dorji and Ahluwalia all reached the summit.

Once again, Gurdial Singh, as also Mulk Raj and Joshi, played selfless roles in ensuring the success of others. Gurdial, we know, always got his kicks out of pushing others into the limelight and avoiding any prominence for himself. The American expedition to Everest had enormous difficulty raising enough money to support the effort; the Indian expeditions evidently had none. A paradox? Yes, but life is full of them.

Ashoka Madgavkar, in 'After Everest - The Future of Indian Mountaineering,' reproduced in XXIX-69 from The Climbers Club Bulletin, 1966, raised some thoughtful questions about Indian climbing. 'Our best climbers still have so much to learn that in the West they would be rated as little better than tyros; hence the inclusion of a Sherpa in every summit party."

Here, the 'scaling of a summit must be made a matter of national pride so as to redound to the greater glory of the rulers and to divert attention from the real problems," he wrote. 'Let us not repeat the errors which stemmed from resurgent Hitlerian Germany's suicidal series of "North Face" attempts and culminated in the Chinese claim to have "conquered" Everest on a dark night..."

Madgavkar also pleaded for the creation of an elite of Sherpas, Ladakhis, Bhotias etc; and for the abandonment of the 'demeaning and pernicious system of subsidized expeditions."⁵

The banalisation of Everest had begun and the great rush to boast of having been on the earth's highest point was launched. If a recent news report is to be believed, up to 15 May 1996 there had been over 4000 climbers trying for Everest, and 615 had been successful. But mountains have their own pride and on 10 May 1996, Everest struck back at those who thought it required little skill or experience; there was a fearsome blizzard with temperatures dropping to minus 40 C.

Eight people died on the mountain. Rob Hall, a New Zealand guide on his fifth ascent of Everest (having led 39 people to the summit), was leading an 11 person group (presumably a package climb for those who had paid up to $60,000 each).⁰

An American client, Doug Hansen was unable to continue the descent, exhausted and frostbitten; Rob Hall, true to the code of a guide, stayed with him knowing that death for both was inevitable. He was able to call his pregnant wife in New Zealand on his radio telephone to say goodbye (his posthumous daughter was born on 21 July).⁶

The report of the call was on Internet, for the whole world to read about. While there is no doubt that everyone sympathised with Mrs. Hall, there seemed something indecent in reporting to the world on this last private call between a mountaineer waiting for death and his wife. Not only has climbing the world's highest mountain gone commercial but information technology has invaded our most private domains. Should some things not be left to the secrecy of the mountains and to man's innermost soul?

Scott Fischer, an American was also operating a commercial group on the mountain, and was among those who died.

The storm brought tragedies on the North Face of Everest as well; while Rob Hall was living up to the highest ethical standards of a mountaineer, on the other side, alas, there seemed to have been an unbelievable desecration of that code.

Richard Cowper of the British 1996 North Col Expedition wrote⁷ of the two Japanese and three Sherpas on 11 May, who, hell-bent to be the first to attain the summit that year, passed three members of the Indian Tibetan Border Police Expedition in extreme difficulty, without stopping or offering help. 'No words were passed. No water, food or oxygen exchanged hands,' wrote Cowper. 'This is a terrible case of summit fever. The end of morality is the end of true alpinism.'

There was more. A highly publicised South African expedition, six men and one woman recruited by contest, backed by the Sunday Times (of South Africa) and supported by Nelson Mandela, went off to plant their flag on Everest. The three most experienced climbers quit because of the 'despotic' leader Ian Woodall; the Sunday Times withdrew its backing. However, the South Africans helped with their radio link when the great blizzard came and earned praise and gratitude.

Woodall reached the top alone on 25 May, Ms. Cathy O'Dowd arrived 15 minutes later and their conversation with their parents from the top was broadcast to all South Africa. The third remaining member of the party, Bruce Herrod, reached the summit seven hours later and had to descend in the dark. Radio contact ceased after two hours and he was presumed dead.

This account is based on newspaper reports, notoriously inaccurate, and it is unfair to base ourselves on them. But the questions that arise: how come they were all climbing separately and unroped? How come Herrod was left to struggle up by himself? How come the two going down didn't meet him going up? Or did they? As the newspaper report said, 'Commentators...who were celebrating the achievement on Saturday morning, are now questioning Mr. Woodall's leadership. Mr. Herrod was his friend,...many are asking what happened to the mountaineer's code that puts rescuing the distressed above personal glory.'⁸

What would Everest tell us of this invasion and of this summit fever, if it could speak? Or rather, if we had ears that could hear what it doubtless does say? What would it say about the shattering of the solitude and peace it has enjoyed for millions of years? What would it say about those who come in humility to commune with it and learn? Of those who come because 'it is there'? Of those who come to 'conquer' it because it is the highest point of our planet? Of those who see it as a means of glory, national or personal, and publicity? Of those who feel it offers a means of joining the highest caste and proving one's superiority over other mortals? Of those who have paid their $60,000 and God damn it! they are going to get their money's worth? Of those to whom the local people are hewers of wood and drawers of water and whose reverence for the mountains are superstitions to be brushed aside with contempt? Of those who care not a rap about the rubbish and desecration they leave behind? Of those who bring their modern gadgetry and demand the food and drink - and the comforts - they find at home?

Ah, yes, Qomolungma; ah, yes, Sagarmatha; ah, yes, Everest: you who lived for a thousand ages of the gods in silence and solitude, symbol of all the mountains of the world, repository of the wisdom of past aeons, abode of the snows: perhaps one day we will learn to understand what you say about us.

 

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In XIX-55/56, Trevor Braham described the search for a practicable route in 1954; the Kangchenjunga reconnaissance was led by John Kempe and characterised by a strike of Nepalese porters. In the same issue, George Band wrote 'Kangchenjunga Climbed', reprinted from the Alpine Journal. Led by Charles Evans,⁹ the team consisted of eight climbers (including Joe Brown and Tony Streather) plus a doctor; Dawa Tensing, 45, was the Sirdar. The Swiss had conferred the title of 'King of the Sherpas" on him, because of his natural, dignified bearing and fine character.

The icefall made Khumbu look 'like a children's playground.' They were pinned down at Camp IV for 60 hours; Camp V, 26,900 ft., was buried by a snow avalanche and had to be laboriously dug out. They were all frozen and exhausted but the Sherpas still produced hot tea! Joe and George Band went to the summit but stopped five feet below the top out of respect for its sacred nature; Hardie and Streather did the same the next day.

There is an interesting section on equipment and on improvements since Everest. Oxygen cylinders were lighter. 'Oxygen has contributed more than any other single item in the climber's apparatus to recent high-climbing successes....it is worth its weight in loads. It made Everest possible; it made the final stages of Kangchenjunga swift and sure, and it played a significant part in this year's astonishing French triumph on Makalu.'

Pemi Dorje died of cerebral thrombosis down below on the day the 2nd team reached the summit and was buried near Pache's grave of 1905.

 

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The 'First Attempt on Makalu, 1954,' by Bruce Meyer and Fritz Lippman, XIX-55/56, provided an account of a combined scientific and mountaineering expedition organised by the California Himalayan Committee. It was led by William Siri (who was the deputy leader of the Everest Expedition in 1963) and the Sirdar was no other than Angtharkay. There were 14 Sherpas and Thondup was the cook. They took two porter loads of coins to pay their 250 porters but later learnt that paper money would have been quite acceptable!

They opted for the SE ridge and established Camp I at 16,500 ft. 'beside an emerald tarn beneath a tongue of the ice-fall. A more delightful camp-site could not have been anticipated....even a lone duck, presumably a teal, was observed for a few days on the lake."

Meyer used skis at 11,000 ft. 'to the great enjoyment of the Sherpas." They met Edmund Hillary's New Zealand expedition and helped when two of their members had a serious accident. Despite bad weather, they established Camp V at 23,500 ft, but heavy fresh snow made the summit impossible.

The French seem to do everything a bit differently. So they went to Makalu in 1954 (reconnaissance) and 1955 (climb) and had a most enjoyable time. And, oh yes, they climbed their mountain, '...no crevasses into which we fell, no avalanche that swept over the camp. At 8000 m. it was like the summit of Mt. Blanc. Nine of us reached the top; three successful attempts in three days; it was hardly a conquest. We didn't even get cold feet.'

Thus Jean Franco in 'Makalu - The Happy Mountain,' XIX- 55/56, adapted from Alpinisme et La Montagne. They quickly put out of mind the SE ridge of the Californians and went for the NW sector. In autumn 1954, they had climbed Makalu II and Chomo Lonzo 7797 m. In 1955, their Sirdar was Gyaljen Norbu. 'The Sherpas do not engage themselves on an expedition. They attach themselves to you and once they are with you, you can take them to the end of the world; you will only get one reply: "Yes, sahib."

The expedition had several veterans from Annapurna. Couzy and Lionel Terray reached the summit from Camp VI, where their shouts of victory were heard. 'The Sherpas shouted for joy with us....lifting us up and embracing us; which at that height and with the narrow space of Camp VI seemed almost excessive. I told Gyaljen that we intended attempting the summit again next day and asked if he would like to join us. He accepted with joy. We told the Sherpas that our success on Makalu was mainly due to them and we were proud to have been associated with them. They simply smiled and shook our hands. These men of the Himalaya are extraordinary." And the day after, four more reached the summit on two ropes. Indeed, a happy mountain.

The Hillary expedition 1960-61, XXII-59/60 and XXIII-61 had its permit for Makalu cancelled 'owing to the unscheduled ascent of Ama Dablam." Hillary flew to Kathmandu and straightened things out but later had a mild stroke and had to be evacuated.

J. Harrison described the ascent of Makalu. The Sherpas who had carried to Camp VII , 27,000 ft. were 'involved in a fall" (whatever that means) and Ang Temba had to be carried down. Ward, who had taken over the leadership from Hillary, fell sick and became delirious at Camp V, Mulgrew collapsed between VI and VII and became unconscious, Anullu had a cracked rib, Nevison showed signs of pneumonia. The Sherpas performed wonders getting sick people down. 'Like so many others before me, I learned what wonderful people the Sherpas are. I shall always treasure the memory of them as in Makalu's howling wind they cheerfully risked their lives to save that of my friend Peter Mulgrew."

 

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Lt.-Col. J.O.M. Roberts seems to have been on just about every major expedition in Nepal. In 'Round About Dhaulagiri," in XIX- 55/56 he described his trip with George Lorimer and four tested Sherpas to Dhaulagiri-land.

Angtharkay, then in Switzerland, arranged the Sherpas. Pasang Dawa was going to be their Sirdar but got pneumonia, and so 'they lost their Sirdar, their cook and their most experienced climber." Ang Nyima took his place.

As porters, they used men from Butwal, and then Kamis, 'the menial metal-worker caste...." who once the bargain was made, stuck to it and carried well. 'Their toughness and fortitude in wind and rain in more or less open camp sites at over 12,000 ft. with little firewood amazed us." Then there were Bhotias and yaks, 'who demanded a quite impossible sum to take us the remaining three days to Mukut," but hard bargaining by Lorimer reduced this by half.

The Gurkha rifleman Hastabahadur, shot 40 snow pigeons, snowcock and hill partridge, later two bharaL.'I don't suppose many climbing expeditions have before consumed so much meat in the Himalayas or featured roast partridge on the high-altitude menu.' Apart from this, 'the close presence of game gave an added fascination to our walks and exploration below the snow line. One day while by myself I saw within a single hour two herds of bharal, several coveys of partridge and snowcock, two hares, and the usual snow pigeon.'

They decided to attempt Putha Hiunchuli 23,750 ft. On the final assault, Lorimer and Lhakpa had to turn back but Roberts and Ang Nyima continued to the top, 'conscious of warm feet and the fact that I had never been so high...' Roberts also felt good when 'about 200 ft. below the summit, I cramponed slowly past a young man who had been to nearly 28,000 ft. on Everest.'

If Pasang Dawa couldn't go to Dhaulagiri with Jimmy Roberts, he did so with the Austrian expedition of six, described by the leader Fritz Moravec in 'Dhaulagiri, 1959,' XXII-59/60. Ang Nyima was with them too. Pasang 'again proved his outstanding qualities, no matter what the conditions on rock and ice.' He brought 13 Sherpas and 'we could not have wished for a better team.'

Moravec had reported on the Austrian Karakoram expedition, 1956, in XX-57. They climbed Gasherbrum II, 26,369 ft. The Balti porters had 'performed well.' When they reached the Baltoro glacier, the Balti porters demanded boots; the 150 pairs the expediton had brought 'proved far too narrow ...a serious crisis developed, which was solved by our slitting open the uppers of every pair, after which they fitted.'

Six previous expeditions had attempted Dhaulagiri; the Swiss had opened a route on the north face, but the Austrians opted for the NE spur. Four camps were set up fairly quickly; then disaster struck. Heinrich Roiss fell into a crevasse near Camp II and by the time he was rescued, he had died. Camp III was buried under snow and a tent torn. Camp IV was very exposed and when Pasang Dawa and Sherpa Pasang were spending a night there, a gale carried away the tent and they had to spend the night without protection. Then Ratay and three Sherpas were at Camp IV when an avalanche nearly suffocated them.

Three attempts on the summit were frustrated by strong winds. 'Three times have I come high on this mountain," said Pasang Dawa, 'but the Gods don't want us to invade their habitation.' (Pasang Dawa had also been with the Argentinians in 1954, when they had used 27 charges of explosives to blast an artificial platform for their high camp.)

But finally even the Gods relented. Kurt Diemberger wrote 'Dhaulagiri, the "White Mountain" : A Chronicle of the 1960 Expedition,' in XXII-59/60. This was an international group constituted by the Swiss and led by Max Eislin. It included Michel Vaucher, Norman Dyhrenfurth and Diemberger. Eight men reached the summit on two different days.

In autumn 1965 Jimmy Roberts was back in the Dhaulagiris 'With the Royal Air Force on Dhalagiri IV,' XXVII-66, reprinted from the AJ. The Royal Nepalese Army placed aircraft at their disposal to shorten their approach, and Roberts gave a list of places accessible by short take-off aircraft. But he rightly said, 'I cannot myself imagine any mountaineer in his right senses voluntarily foregoing the pleasures of the walk towards the mountains as a preliminary to a pre-monsoon expedition when the rhododendrons begin to bloom and spring is in the air.'

Weather conditions were bad and they had to abandon the attempt; however, Ghustung was climbed twice.

'Dhaulagiri II,' by Hiroshi Sugita, XXVII-66, is the account of the All-Japan Himalayan Expedition 1965, to Dhaulagiri II, 7751 m. There were eight climbers and 16 Sherpas with Tenzing Gurmi as Sirdar. They had a difficult approach march of 66 days; a Tibetan horse fell with two loads to his death in the Kali Gandaki ravine; two Sherpas were lost in an avalanche and their bodies recovered only after a search of three days. A small pox epidemic closed all routes adding to the delays.

'As a last resort we made a final quick ascent within a short space of time after establishing the Base Camp by the Mukut Khola.' Camp III was set up but then Jhamang Tenzing slipped and fractured his backbone and had to be rushed back to Kathmandu. 'Thus the expedition to Dhaula Himal ended - long caravans; climbing of the high passes; heavy snowfalls; an avalanche; porter problems; and small pox!"

As against this, 'The American Dhaulagiri Expedition, 1969," written by three members, XXIX-69, described a wonderful approach march - 'The trek to the mountain defies description" - but tragedy on the mountain. The leader was Boyd Everett and there were nine others; Phu Dorje II was the Sirdar, and the LO Hari Das was exceptional.

A1 Read fell sick at Base Camp with pulmonary oedema, was unconscious for 32 hours, and got down in fresh snow with difficulty. He got expert medical attention in Kathmandu and recovered fully so was able to resume his work as Chief Guide in Moose, Wyoming.

On the mountain, while bridging a crevasse, an avalanche overwhelmed eight of them; Lou Reichardt had ducked behind a slight slope but was struck repeatedly by debris. When he got up, 'everything that was familiar - friends, equipment, even the snow on which we had been standing - was gone!...A triangular cliff of ice...had collapsed and the resulting debris had cut a 100 ft. wide swath across the broad basin, filled the crevasses and overwhelmed us."

He tried for an hour to find his companions, then went down for help. He returned with equipment and people but they had no success. 'Much in each of us died that day, and time spent alone with memories of past hopes, exertions and companionship seemed necessary then and appropriate later."

 

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Much as he disliked pretentious titles, Jimmy Roberts felt that "The British-1ndian-Ncpalcsc Services" Himalayan Expedition", god-fathered by Field-Marshal Templer and Gen. Thimayya, saved a lot of tedious explanation.

In 'Annapurna II, 1960", XXII-59/60, he described this expedition to the 3rd. highest unclimbed mountain. There were ten members, strangers to each other; in contrast, the nine Sherpas were a solid 'band of brothers." From the Indian Army, there were Captains Jagjit Singh and M.A. Soares. Annapurna II was climbed by three members, and Annapurna IV by several.

The Services seemed to favour the Annapurnas, and the following year, 1961,Lt.-Cmdr. M.S. Kohli, I.N. led an expedition to Annapurna III, 24,858 ft., XXV-64. The team of six included Sonam Gyatso, who had climbed Cho Oyu in 1958 and had been on Everest in 1960; seven of the Sherpas had been on Everest with Kohli.

They had trouble in the village of Manang; Jimmy Roberts had trouble too because his party had shot two wild sheep and had smoked: they were fined Rs. 50 (down from the original demand of Rs. 3000). They now came to Kohli's Base Camp and demanded Rs. 100, then upped this to Rs. 2000. Base Camp had already been looted by Bhotias. The Liaison Officer protested and was beaten up for his pains and taken into custody. To free him, they had to pay the amount demanded. Looted stores and equipment were returned; later a platoon of soldiers arrived to guard the expedition.

On the first summit bid, Chaturvedi slipped and 'went down before Sharma could hold him...both miraculously unhurt, having been splendidly belayed by Sonam Girmi." On the second attempt, Sonam Gyatso, Sonam Girmi and Kohli reached the summit at 4.15 pm. It had started snowing, and there was a thunderstorm but they got down to camp by 7 p.m.

The German Nepal Expedition 1955 described by Heinz Steinmetz in XX-57 climbed Annapurna IV.

 

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The Dhaulagiri accounts of Diemberger and Moravec had been translated by Hugh Merrick; Herbert Tichy's 'Cho Oyu, 26,750 ft." XIX-55/56 was translated by Barbara Tobin: was she the wife or daughter of Col. Tobin? Anyway, it is an attractive account of an attractive climb because of the deep feelings it expresses, the friendship between Sherpa and climber, and the success of Pasang Dawa Lama.

How important it is to mention dates, not only in accounts of expeditions but even in personal and unimportant letters. Here is Tichy beginning, 'At the beginning of September last year..." Well, September is a lovely month; in fact it's the month in which I was born some 73 years ago (1923 to be exact) so I naturally have tender feelings for it. But my dear Mr. Tichy, what is 'last year'? Especially in a Journal covering two years? Anyway, it was 1954.

Tichy had two companions and seven Sherpas under Pasang Dawa. 'It was good to be back on a rope with Pasang and Ajiba again, friends of my previous expeditions.' And later, 'Pasang led; every one of his movements showing sureness and experience.' They got up through the ice-fall surprisingly easily and the summit seemed to be within their grasp.

Storm at Camp IV, 23,000 ft.; tents flattened and Tichy's fingers frozen. They retreated to Camp II, and Helmut gave him injections, but his hands were useless. Pasang and the others left to give them more room. 'I could not give him my hand in farewell, and when he saw that he bent down and kissed my cheek. Apart from the torment of the pain and misfortune, I experienced a new feeling during the days that followed: the wordless friendliness and comradeship that united us and never let us feel alone.'

Then a Swiss Expedition appeared and said they would give Tichy one chance before coming up themselves. As Chris Bonington describes it in The Climbers, 'Tichy's recuperation was rudely interrupted by the arrival of a Swiss expedition looking for something slightly easier to climb after giving up on Gauri Shankar.' They didn't have permission for Cho Oyu but suggested they join forces and make a bid after Tichy. "Tichy. the philosopher, was now spurred into competitive action.'

Meanwhile, Pasang had gone down for stores. When he heard that the Swiss had arrived, he rushed back to the Austrians at Camp II, 'an incredible feat - in the course of three days he went from Marlung, 13,000 ft. over the Nangpa La, and up to the summit of Cho Oyu. He had heard of our meeting with the Swiss Expedition and had declared passionately, "If the Swiss reach the summit before us I will cut my throat."

So up again to Camp IV where six men spent the night, Tichy with his hands pretty helpless. They went for the summit, unroped, each at his own pace, with Pasang helping Tichy. Combined with Tichy"s obsession was a profound spiritual experience. Bonington quoted Tichy, 'The world seemed to me to be instinct with a hitherto unknown benevolence and goodness. The barrier between me and the rest of creation was broken down. The few phenomena, sky, ice, rock, wind and I which now constituted life, were an inseparable and divine whole. I felt myself - the contradiction is only apparent - as glorious as God and at the same time no more than an insignificant grain of sand."

Tichy resumed, 'Pasang came over to me, his ice-axe was stuck in the snow flying flags of Nepal, Austria and India which we had given him that morning. And I, normally no lover of flags, found that the sight of these symbols of my fatherland and the two countries that I think of and love so much, brought tears to my eyes. Pasang hugged me. Beneath his sun-glasses I saw that he too had tears in his eyes - for more than twenty years he had striven for a "very high" mountain. Today his wish was granted." (Among his near misses was K2 with Fritz Wiessner in 1939.)

'And when they got down to Camp IV, Ajiba was there. "Sahib," he said and hugged me tight."

Cho Oyu then received the attention of an eight member Ladies Expedition led by Claude Kogan; this included Loulou Boulaz of Geneva. I have a very special recollection of this and must add a personal note. Loulou, besides being one of the best known women climbers and skiers of Switzerland, was a colleague in the International Labour Office. I was lucky enough to meet her even before I got to Geneva (but that's another story) and she not only introduced me to Raymond Lambert who guided my early steps in climbing, but she herself took me with her on several outings. She had applied for special leave to go on the Cho Oyu expedition. The file arrived in the office of the Director General a couple of weeks before I was due to move into that office. The staff, knowing of my interest in mountains, kept it for me; when I arrived, I had one file on my desk, that of Loulou Boulaz's request.

There is no account of this expedition in the HJ, but the Club Proceedings in XXI-58 noted the plans.

It is difficult to write of Cho Oyu without recalling Nandu Jayal, then Principal of the HMI, who died at base camp in 1958. Every climbing death is a tragedy and a culmination; some are greater tragedies than others, and represent a yet more fitting culmination.

 

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The Japanese success on Manaslu needed a lot of ground work. There had been a reconnaissance in 1953 which had reached 25,425 ft; an expedition in 1954 (led by Y. Hotta of Nanda Kot 1936 when they had taken Japanese rice and mochi with them) which had been blocked by the Sama villagers because the previous one had profaned the mountain. Manaslu is revered as Kambung, who controls the prosperity of their crops; because the mountain had been profaned, their gompa had been destroyed by an avalanche. In 1955, three members went to negotiate with the villagers, and in 1956 Yuko Maki led the successful expedition. Together with T. Imanishi, Maki wrote the account in XX-57; the editor 'retained the original style as much as possible.'

The article, apart from its original style, is interesting, as it provides a lot of detail of what they wore and what they carried. The tents of Camp VI were red to distinguish it and Imanishi found 'that the colour tone calmed my spirits.' (One would not have thought red a calming colour.) In the evening, they ate rice and soup and munched some dried fruit. In the morning, they made Ovaltine, porridge, ate 2-3 biscuits and some pieces of Hittobe, 'a scientific food which was specially manufactured."

'We wore cotton vest and pants, cashmere woollen vest and pants, flannel cutter-shirt, sweater, serge trousers and eiderdown trousers; and above this a windproof jacket and trousers. We used stockings of two kinds, thin ones and thicker ones. Above our high-altitude boots we wore eiderdown overshoes, and fixed crampons on them. Woollen gloves and mittens of thin leather were used to cover the hands. We carried three oxygen cylinders each, fixed vertically into their frames. In our rucksacks we put our camera (with 150 feet of film), a Cannon camera with 25 mm wide-angle lens for taking monochrome pictures, and a Nikon camera with 35 nun wide-angle lens for colour. The total weight exceeded 45 lbs."

Gyalzen and Imanishi reached the summit.

 

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Gyalzen was the Sirdar when the French, having reconnoitred Jannu (XXI-58), climbed it (XXIV-62/63). Guido Magnone, Lionel Terray, Rene Desmaison were members of the final expedition. Terray, experiencing difficulty in climbing without oxygen, called up Wangdi to join him at one point. 'He, too, was climbing without oxygen but with positively disheartening ease; and yet, he was carrying hardly less than I was. Obviously, either Sherpas are supermen, or we are a race of degenerates..."

Two ropes, including Gyalzen, went for the summit. At 3 p.m. they emerged on a subsidiary summit and saw the true summit 'at the far end of a ridge at least 100 yards long. And what a ridge! None of us had ever seen anything so marvellously narrow; and a little cornice running all along its crest only served to heighten the effect." After a while, they had to sit astride the ridge, and it took an hour. They got down to their camp in the dark by 9 p.m. the next day, three ropes climbed the summit including Terray and Wangdi.

 

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Nuptse was climbed by six members of the expedition described by J. Walmsley and D. Davis described in XXIII-61; the party included Chris Bonington. Approaching the summit with Tashi, Davis 'stopped just short ...to enable Tashi to go through so that I could photograph him as he reached our goal. So it was a delighted Tashi who went through along the knife- edged ridge and trod the snows of the summit first, followed closely by myself....And what more could I wish for than to be standing on the summit of Nuptse with a Sherpa as my companion - one of those men who made Himalayan climbing such a delightful experience and who were always so wonderful to be with." Bonington, Pemba and two others also reached the summit.

 

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We've all seen photographs of this striking and impossible looking peak, a few miles south of Everest. J.H. Emlyn Jones, in 'Ama Dablam, 1959' XXII-59/60, described an expedition whose memory 'is clouded by the death of two of our number who lost their lives near the summit.'

There was an almost complete absence of potential camp sites, and when prepared, one couldn't move without being safeguarded. Mike Harris and George Fraser set off from Camp V for the summit; it clouded over and they were not seen again. As with Mallory and Irvine on Everest, one will never know if they reached the summit. Next day there was a blizzard; searches revealed nothing.

The Hillary expedition 1960-61 spent nine months in the region, studying the human body at high altitudes, looking for the yeti - which got the most headlines - and incidentally climbing Ama Dablam and Makalu. Norman Hardie described the Ama Dablam venture, XXII-59/60, and told us that ' "Ama" is "mother" in the Sherpa language, "dablam" a locket worn round the neck.'

An exciting account of an exciting climb that took a month; there was much use of 'etriers, pitons, paired ropes, and all the rest of the paraphernalia". Only sahibs carried loads to Camp IV, 'to the Sherpas" great relief", the summit was climbed in six hours and the team came down to Camp III where the 'Sherpas beamed happily at us, as pleased as we were, and plied us with mugs of hot, syrupy tea : "Shabash! Very good summit, sahibs."

On the way down, Gumi Dorji stood on a loose rock which gave way under his too-heavy pack and in a fall of ten feet, his leg snapped. 'Broken sahib - I will die..." Ward splinted the leg and somehow or the other they got him down.

J.G. Wilson described the Himalayan Schoolhouse Expedition 1963 in XXV-64; this was the continuation of the aid programme to the Khumbu area launched by Edmund Hillary. They built a school, constructed a water supply for Khumjung, while two doctors set up a clinic for a few months. Then they took time off to try Taweche 21,390 ft. and Kangtega 22,340 ft. They climbed the latter, but the weather was 'perpetually bloody awful" and Mike Gill philosophised at the end, 'You know, I think in some ways it is better not to have violated such a fantastic summit."

N.D. Hardie, in XX-57, spent some time with the Sherpa community after the Kangchenjunga expedition 1955. There seems to be a close link between New Zealand and the Sherpa area.

 

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'A wonderful mountain but of course quite impossible," said Jimmy Roberts of Machhapuchhare, and who better qualified than he to pronounce on the mountains of Nepal ? But Maj. C.G. Wylie persuaded Roberts to undertake a reconnaissance in 1956 and got together a strong party for 1957: Wilfrid Noyce, David Cox, Roger Chorley, Roberts; with Sherpa Ang Nyima. Wvlic's account is in XX-57.

On the mountain, Chorley was feeling ill and getting worse; in fact he had polio. 'A bunch of hardy Gurung youths came barefoot through snow and carried (him) down in a doko, a bamboo basket." Roberts went with him and returned a fortnight later, with reassuring news, 'five weeks accumulation of mail and large hunks of fresh meat of a luckless thar, which had been chased by the irrepressible Chomrong Gurungs who lacked a weapon, up a cliff from which it could find no escape. It leapt for safety, broke its leg in the fall and was dispatched with Roberts" ice axe. We later measured its horns and found them to equal the record."

At Camp II, their tents were all but buried by an astonishing flow of hail pouring like a torrent down the hillside. Snow slides were frequent; 'Noyce, Cox and I were....actually talking of avalanches when Cox looked up and said, "Here's one coming now." We had about two seconds before it hit us................. I struggled but the snow had taken charge of my limbs, and there wasn't very much to be done about it....I had been carried down about 50 ft.; the others, nearer the edge of the slide, not so far and none of us was any the worse.'

At one point, they had to go up and down the knife-edged ridge; Tashi had a brainwave. 'Why don't we tunnel through the knife-edge ridge, Sahib?' This would save a 25 ascent and equal descent; Tashi went at it like 'a veteran coal-miner...In two days we had a fine tunnel some 20 ft. long.'

Noyce and Cox went for the summit and got to within 150 ft. of the top; it would have meant cutting steps all the way up, a good two hours' work. A snowstorm came up so it was prudent to return; they buried the Nepalese flag and Union Jack.

Wylie ended his account: 'The Modi Basin offers several good new climbs....Two points, however, should be stressed: firstly, the party should be a thoroughly experienced one...secondly, they should pay particular heed to the religious beliefs of the Gurungs through whose country they will pass. These happy and hospitable people are not yet used to expeditions ...they are still not convinced that climbing parties will not bring disaster to the crops on which they rely so completely...We hope our party may have helped to allay their superstitions; fortunately no natural misfortune could be laid at our door, in fact our passage through their villages seemed to bring them rain or sun as required at the right time.

'....Certainly, we were happy to leave the summit untrodden, not believing the last 150 ft. to be of great consequence and feeling that the Goddess of Machhapuchhare should remain inviolate in return for the rewarding resistance she gave us. We hope she is equally satisfied in her continuing seclusion. We feel that this is how it should remain."

 

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'Looks impossible, you will never get up there!" the Sherpas told the German-Swiss expedition 1962, as they examined Pumori, 'The Daughter Mountain". Gerhard Lenser, in XXIV- 62/63 described how in fact they did.

They reconnoitred, acclimatised, waited out the bad weather, waited for the famous pre-monsoon lull which never came. 'The Base Camp of the Indian Everest Expedition, not far away, was also dominated by an atmosphere of nervousness, although softened by Asian resignation."

With Sherpas Nima Tensing and Nima Dorje who had been on Dhaulagiri, they tackled every type of pitch: walls, chimneys and corners, using some hundred ice and rock pitons and 2000 ft. of fixed rope. Camp III was set up at 20,407 ft. They used what they termed the 'Pumori-method": not stopping for any build-up, carrying everything that was necessary, a small tent and five days" provisions. And so Lenser, Hurlemann and Forrer got to the 'impossible" summit.

 

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'Let it be understood that the surroundings of the basin of the Baltoro are in fact the most stupendous in the world," wrote Lord Conway in 1892. 'Everest alone is higher than K2, Kinchinjanga (sic) almost as high, but both considerably surpass their neighbours....whereas K32 (The Hidden Peak) is only one of a group of vast peaks whose average height is much greater than that of any other assemblage of mountains on the surface of the earth. K2, the Broad Peak, Gasherbrum, the Hidden Peak, and Masherbrum are all mountains of from 26,000 to 28,000 ft.'¹⁰

 

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The indefatigable Prof. Ardito Desio had nurtured the idea of K2 since his first visit to the Karakoram with the Duke of Spoleto's expedition in 1929. After the war, he managed to raise funds but was pre-empted by Charles Houston in 1953 and restricted to a reconnaissance. He got his chance in 1954 and wrote of the 1954 Italian expedition and the first ascent of K2, in XIX-55/56.

K2 had been attempted five times, the first in 1902 and the second by the Duke of Abruzzi in 1909. Desio's party also had a scientific group; the climbers included Walter Bonatti, 24 years old, and Achille Compagnoni, 40. They had two winter training camps in the Alps. They couldn't get Sherpas so relied on 10 Hunza porters for high level work. What with desertions, snowfalls and other problems, base camp was established 15 days later than planned.

They had brought a windlass to drag up loads on special sledges made with skis and this was used between Camps I and II with excellent results. They also fitted up a light telepherique. Puchoz got a sore throat at C II, this turned to pneumonia and despite the doctor's best efforts, died. He was buried near the monument the Americans had built for Gilkey.

They experienced a bad storm with intense cold. They found plenty of ropes left by the Americans but for safety fixed their own so they could retreat in bad weather if necessary. Floreanini's rope slipped off its anchorage and he tumbled down 800 ft but luckily no bones were broken.

Achille Compagnoni and Lino Lacedelli went for the summit from C IX; their oxygen gave out on the way but they continued and reached the summit at 6 pm. On the way down, Compagnoni fell 45 ft. but in soft snow, and they got to Camp VIII at 11p.m. Next day the weather turned bad and they all came down, leaving everything behind.

Alas, like the Germans on Nanga Parbat, the expedition ended with misunderstandings and bitterness. Walter Bonatti, undoubtedly the strongest climber, was struck down with food poisoning at the wrong moment, and 'did his best to resign himself to a (supporting) role, which was particularly difficult, since he felt he was stronger than either Lacedelli or Compagnoni."¹¹

The following account is based on that of Bonington. Bonatti went down to fetch respirators for the summit duo, and started up again with Mahdi, one of the Hunzas. They failed to reach Camp IX and had a 'gruelling unprotected bivouac on a ledge Bonatti carved in the snow. Mahdi was not only bitterly cold but also terrified and hysterical." Bonatti kept calling out but there was no response; at first light he heard Lacedelli's voice clearly. He called for help but Lacedelli claimed he could not understand and returned to his tent. Next morning Bonatti descended while Lacedelli and Compagnoni crossed over to pick up the respirators and went to the summit and glory.

'This was the experience which, on his return home, drove Bonatti to his most remarkable solo ascent of the South-West Pillar of the Dru."¹²

 

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Karl M. HcrrligkofTcr's third Himalayan expedition, 1961, was to explore 'The Diamir face of Nanga Parbat," XXV-64. They used 2400 ft. of steel cable to assure the ice couloir to Camp II; three men bivouacked intending to attempt the summit but a blizzard forced them to abandon this.

They returned in 1962, with a slightly different team. Five men were poised at 23,500 ft. for a summit attempt; only three were well enough to continue after a midnight start. They reached the Bazhin Gap 25,630 ft. at 9 am and joined Hermann Buhl"s route. Low had a fall when he broke through an ice bridge; he was held and hauled up but lost his ice axe. They finally reached the summit at 4 pm after 16 hours climbing from Camp IV. They bivouacked 300 ft. below the summit and spent a miserable night in the 'highest open bivouac in the history of climbing.'

Going down next day, they unroped to go faster. Low was going very slowly and called to them. Kinshoffer turned to go back when 'a swiftly-moving shadow crossed his path. Low had fallen and was flying downwards on his back, without a movement to save himself, without uttering a sound.' He crashed into an 'excrescence" and sustained a head wound that proved fatal. Mannhardt, far below, heard Kinshoffer s shouts and came back up. Low was unconscious, with a great head wound and other injuries. They tried to carry him down but this proved impossible, so Kinshoffer stayed with him while Mannhardt hurried down to Camp III for help. Kinshoffer too began to have hallucinations; about 7 p.m. Low died and Kinshoffer started down at about 8.30, forgetting his rucksack with the cameras and summit photos under Low's feet; he lost his ice-axe, his crampons came loose. He reached Camp III at 9 am. 'For 56 hours he had withstood the deadly menace of his savage surroundings without recuperative rest, without liquid or solid nourishment.'

Both climbers had to be carried in hammocks and sling seats. At base, a memorial was erected to Low.

 

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Led by Tissieres, a party from Cambridge, including George Band, got up the Monk's Head on Rakaposhi in 1954. Roger Chorley described this in XIX-55/56. The Northern Scouts did not seem too keen as load carriers though they boasted of their achievements on Nanga Parbat. When taxed with this, they replied, 'Oh, the Germans gave us medicine three times a day, you only gave it to us twice!'

Chorley referred to complaints that articles on the Himalayas had too much about the approach. 'It is of course almost a truism that if you want to go climbing, the Himalayas is the last place to go, and for the participants the approach march is often the most enjoyable part of the expedition." And he quoted Shipton: Hunzais "diff icultto describe without indulging in superlatives."

They climbed the Monk"s Head, 2000 ft of ice; Wrangham and Alidad fell through a cornice but Band threw himself on the other side in text book style. Wind and snow forced them to abandon the attempt.

An Austro-Gennan expedition, written up by Mathias Rebitsch in XIX-55/56, had hoped to attempt to Rakaposhi but George Band's party had pre-empted them. They climbed a 7000 er; one of their party, Karl Heckler, had a fatal accident in the Hunza gorge. The Hunza porters get a good report from this expedition: across one yawning crevasse, they stretched a rope, 'then came porter after porter dangling down, some of them upside down, toppling over and dragged on by the weight of their enormous loads....None of the Hunzas showed any anxiety or nervousness; they certainly were good chaps................ Thanks to the exemplary team-work of sahibs and porters this perilous retreat had been successfully accomplished.'

A British-American expedition in 1956, led by Mike Banks, is described by Hamish Machines in XX-57. 'Base Camp was situated in a delectable spot where primulas and bubbling streams enchant a valley walled by stately peaks.'

An avalanche swept away a deal of fixed rope; Fazal-i-Haque had a fall but was unhurt; Bob Swift slipped on steep ice and fell 100 ft. but stopped before dropping to the Biro glacier; Mike fell into a crevasse, so did Bob Swift and Dick Irvin. They were caught in an electric storm and received 'several potent charges and an extra big one that almost stunned him and caused him to drop his rucksack which fell to the Biro glacier 4000 ft. below in the wrong valley.' Hamish got dengu fever; Issa Khan, cutting steps, was pulled off when his companion fell and they tumbled down 500 ft.

Mike and Hamish made a third attempt. Hamish fell into a hidden crevasse, Mike slipped and fell 20 ft., then they both fell about 300 ft. They discovered they were snow blind; another storm blew up and they struggled down to BC. Mike was seeing double. 'I think it would have been interesting to have given him half his allocation of food....on the way down to Base, several avalanches had a last try at scaring us."

Mike Banks was back on the mountain in 1958, and began his account in XXI-58: 'At 1.45 pm on June 25, Surgeon- Lieutenant Tom Patey, Royal Navy, and I stood on the summit of the 25,550 ft. high Himalayan giant, Rakaposhi." There were nine climbers from the British and Pakistani Services, patronised by the two Commanders-in-Chief. The Pakistanis included Capt. Raja Mohd. Aslam, 'a strapping officer of six foot three," and Capt. Shah Khan of the Northern Scouts, uncle of the Mir of Hunza.

They fixed 4000 ft. of rope on the Monk's Head, and it was a great triumph to get the porters up this rampart, 'entirely attributable to Shah Khan's influence and leadership.' Aslam and Shah Khan with six Hunzas were caught in a bad avalanche and swept 1500 ft. down but no one was badly hurt. 'The successful ascent of Rakaposhi was attributable to one predominating factor only - teamwork.'

J.P. O'F. Lynam - who spoke Urdu - with six others tried the NW ridge of Rakaposhi, XXVI-65. Lynam felt he preferred small peaks without all the heavy build-up; he was gloomy about the future of Himalayan mountaineering with increasing Government restrictions.

 

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'23,800 ft. of vertical walls presented climbing problems of a different order of severity from the "eight-thousanders" wrote Guido Magnone in XX-57 (reproduced from La Montagne et Alpinisme). Alpinists were now looking for tough climbing challenges and not merely for height; climbs for which elephantine expeditions with armies of porters were not necessary, no national flags needed to be planted on highest unclimbed peaks; and oxygen was carried only for medical emergencies.

What was bizarre about the Muztagh Tower was that two expeditions were going for the summit, unbeknownst to each other till much later, and both reached the summit from totally different sides of the peak 'which appeared impregnable."

The doctor of the French expedition was kept busy 'giving injections, opening abscesses, distributing poultices and pills to a population wretched both in physique and in circumstances to a degree that I have never seen: goitres, tuberculosis and dgeneracy are to be seen in almost all the inhabitants not only of Askole but of all the valley of Braldo."

Crossing the Dumordo torrent, several porters were swept a way and rescued in extremis; the whole camp was carried away by a torrent of mud and they had to rush for safety. They learnt of a strong British party led by John Hartog already on the Muztagh glacier, so they decided to try another route, the north ridge. 'We could not have found anything more terrifying."

The two expeditions met and became friendly and wished each other luck. The French winched up their loads. Their Liaison Officer, Capt. Ali Usman, was left at Ibex Camp, and 'What torment it must be for Ali, this unrepentant sportsman to be without a gun in this place swarming with game, bears, leopards, ibex and wolves." (I do wish he hadn't been called Ali.)

From Camp IV, the French saw two dots beside the summit; Ian McNaught-Davis and Joe Brown reached the summit, followed the next day by John Hartog and Tom Patey. The French undertook some extremely difficult climbing, 'at the limit of balance...of violent arm-pulls Certainly one of the hardest bits of climbing that has been done in the Himalaya at this altitude.' The snow had them tent bound; then they were able to continue and bivouacked at 22,900 ft. 'One of the most difficult bivouacs we have ever had.' Robert Paragot, Andre Contamine, Paul Keller and Magnone made the summit and had a descent of epic difficulty.

At Baltoro, Dr. Patey was waiting for them to ask Dr. Florence's help in looking after Hartog's frost-bitten feet; the French took Hartog and Paltey out with them. 'As we make our way back,' wrote Magnone, 'I think of the simple, warm welcome with which the British climbers greeted us yesterday. A few hours after our arrival, we were sat down before a banquet of Pantagruel; all rivalry disappeared, we celebrated our double success. I am sure that it was our new-born friendship that we celebrated that evening, the friendship of men lost on the edge of the world, joined in brotherhood by the same passion and the same ideal, just as much as we celebrated the beginning of a new conquest, the conquest of the finest and most difficult Himalayan summits."

 

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'Hermann Buhl had always planned to attack an 8000 metre peak with a small climbing party dependent on its own efforts. Our organization was therefore simple and to the point The Pakistan Government had not forgotten that he had been the first to plant the Pakistani flag on an 8000 m. summit, so our permit was easily granted." Thus Kurt Diemberger writing about Broad Peak, 'one of the last "eight-thousanders" still to be climbed", and Chogolisa 25,110 ft. in XXI-58. Incidentally, the sketch map of the Upper Baltoro Glacier accompanying this article is the most helpful that I - who've never been to the region - have seen.

Their 1957 party consisted of four climbers and a liaison officer. They dispensed with high altitude porters and oxygen. 'Buhl's plan was thus obviously a novelty in the history of 8000 m. ascents '

All four reached the summit of Broad Peak. Buhl had lost all feeling in his right foot - he had lost two toes on Nanga Parbat in 1953 - and had to stop; Diemberger followed the other two to the summit; they had already started down when he got there. He stood on the summit cornice alone. 'I wanted to know how it feels to stand clear on the very top of everything, with nothing but bottomless, boundless space around one....on the utmost summit of an "Eight-Thousander". I chanced it and the cornice held But I didn't feel happy. The loneliness of it was too infinite and oppressive.'

Descending, he met Buhl, unbelievably still coming up, so Diemberger turned about and they went together. They got to the summit; night was falling; 'but the moon came to our rescue,' and slowly and carefully, they got down to camp.

Flushed with success, they went to try Chogolisa. 'Our tactical plan was an original one having only one tent, we decided to use it successively as Base Camp, Camp I, Camp II, and so on." At Camp II, Buhl was full of plans for the future: Mitre Peak, Paiju, Trango Tower, Rakaposhi....

On the summit attempt, having passed all difficulties, they unroped. Suddenly, a raging blizzard was on them, 'We could hardly believe in so sudden a change in the weather." At about 24,000 Buhl said they must turn back. Diemberger was in the lead, 'At about 23,600 ft. I suddenly felt an explosive disintegration of the surface snow and instantly hurled myself on to the slope to my right, descending 30 to 40 ft. before stopping. I turned, but could see no one. The ridge rises to a small hump just here, so at first I thought nothing of it. But when there was no sign of Hermann, I hurried back up the slope full of foreboding. There was nothing to be seen of Hermann. He had disappeared." Diemberger got back to camp; a search was organised but they found nothing.

So it was left to a Japanese expedition led by Takeo Kuwabara, and described by him in XXI-58, to climb Chogolisa a year later. There were 11 members and they had nine high altitude porters. They found Buhl's tent with two notebooks, some biscuits, canned sardines, honey, a hat, film and so on, which they took back for Mrs. Buhl.

Kuwabara was not impressed with the porters. 'They were useless on account of mountain sickness,' he wrote, though later he said, 'the porters were in relatively high spirits.' And still later, the porters 'refused to proceed any further and unwillingly they pitched a tent there, 21,980 ft. knowing that this height would be disadvantageous for a dash to the summit.' Fujihara and Hirai, using a Camp IVa attained the summit; 'the top was too small to be occupied by the two.' The whole climb was filmed with a telephoto lens from Camp.

K.J. Miller, describing the Imperial College Karakoram expedition 1957 in XXI-1957, said that having met the Austrian party returning after Buhl's death and then having heard of Bob Downes death with the Manchester party on Masherbrum, found 'our impetuousness at seeing the Himalaya for the first time was greatly subdued."

The set up four survey stations, climbed Towitz 21,000 ft. and noted that the oasis near the junction of Siachen and Teram Shehr glaciers was 'a paradise for any mountaineer. Here at nearly 16,000 ft. one finds grass in abundance, lakes, ibex, many birds and gloriously coloured flowers."

 

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Or Kl, in case you've always wondered if ever there was a Kl. The Manchester Himalayan expedition 1957, described by Joseph Wahnsley in XXI-58, was the third attempt on Masherbrum. They were nearly flooded out at base camp but managed to dam the water; hardly an auspicious beginning to their climb.

Robert Downes began coughing and had to be carried off the mountain on a rope stretcher; when he was able to come up again, 'the HAP (high altitude porters) hugged and almost kissed Bob in their delight.' But later, at Camp VI, the cough and illness returned and 'he had great difficulty breathing. I held him up and gave him further treatment but his strength was slowly leaving him. His breathing was dying away; then he sagged in my arms. I could not believe that he was dead.'

The first summit attempt was defeated by snow and bad weather; the next was frustrated by Bob's death and a storm that penned them in their tents for five days. In order to get Bob's body down, they tied it 'with an air-mattress to a rope stretcher ; a stake was driven into the snow at the entrance of Camp VI.

Then 300 ft. of rope was led diagonally from the stake down the steep slope, another stake was driven into the snow at the loose rope end and the tension line made tight and secure. A rope leading from the front and a rope from the rear of the stretcher completed the arrangement ' A snowstorm made things worse.

Camp VII was established at 24,800 ft; another attempt was made with some difficult rock climbing, but Don Whillans lost his gloves, Wahnsley had frostbitten fingers and toes, so they turned back at about 25,300 ft.

The American-Pakistan Karakoram expedition 1960, led by George Bell, was described by Thomas F. Hornbein in XXII-59/60. It included McConnack of Gasherbrum and Willi Unsoeld of Nilkanta and Makalu.

There were 6 HAPs, later described as 'carrying mightily; only the Sahibs" ranks seem temporarily decimated: Tom McConnack and Dick Emerson at Base recovering from persistent sinusitis; Javee (Capt. Javed Akhter Khan) immobilized by snow blindness; Imti (Capt. Imtiaz Azim) slow to adapt to 21,000 ft; and Quresh (Capt. Akram Quresh) suffering a traumatic arthritis of the knees that was eventually to prevent him from going high."

Hornbein was carried down with a snow slide, 'by an incredibly powerful yet gentle force, enjoying that strange fatalism of thought that we really hadn't done too well on this mountain." Javed fell down a slope 'head over heels in ever accelerating bounds took one last huge bound and while still in mid-air slammed into the end of the rope....He lay there inert for a time then slowly began to stir, to unwind and untangle himself."

Two teams got to the summit: George Bell and Willi Unsoeld; and Nick Clinch and Javed Akhtar Khan.

High altitude porters of the Karakorams seem to get mixed reports, whether they are Hunzas, Chitralis, or Baltis. Hornbein praised their six: 'Our six HAPs had done a truly fantastic job, carrying in even the worst weather, with almost none of the "sickness" that seems so prevalent in the annals of Himalayan history.

They have become competent mountaineers as well as cheerful companions. On this expedition we were privileged to see them "come of age" by the standards of the Sherpas of the eastern Himalayas. To extol their contribution to our success is almost superfluous: without them Masherbrum would not have been climbed."

 

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Thomas McConnack had been on Gasherbrum I with the 1958 American Karakoram expedition, and he wrote about this in XXI-58.

There were seven Americans and two Pakistanis including Capt. S.T.H. Rizvi (the same as the LO with the Manchester Expedition to Masherbrum?). They were the first Americans to use oxygen, so two of them went to Switzerland to learn how the equipment worked.

Pete Schoening was chosen leader; there was a lot of voting and democracy that went on, the summit team was also chosen by vote. They had six Balti HAPs (presumably without the vote) and their 'overall quality was excellent." This is not quite what the Japanese thought on Chogolisa but individuals differ and so do experiences.<

Bob Swift's hand was in a cast because 'just before he left home, he had gently smote his desk in an effort to restore decorum in his classroom and had broken his hand.' (Who says school mastering is not a dangerous profession?)

At Urdokas they had the 'inevitable porter trouble but after Capt. Rizvi's announcement that he was a descendant of the Prophet nothing serious materialized.' Base camp was at 16,800 ft. where 'we discharged the remaining porters, cut the cast of Swift's right arm, checked our equipment and practised using the oxygen Next we were faced with the problem of how we were going to climb the mountain which loomed ahead of us.'

Schoening and Kauffman reached the summit in 10 hours from Camp V; then the weather deteriorated so they decided to evacuate. 'While this may go down in history as an "American" 8,000-er, we did not climb Hidden Peak as Baltis, Pakistanis or Americans but as mountaineers whose expedition had been made possible by other mountaineers, American, English, French and Swiss.'

In the same volume of the HJ, XXI-5 8, the Notes and Expeditions records that an Italian expedition, led by Riccardo Cassin and including Walter Bonatti, had gone to Gasherbrum IV. Bonatti and Mauri had reached both north and south summits, and had descended in a violent storm.

The Sceptre and Mitre peaks and several others were climbed by the RAF Karakoram expedition 1961, XXIII-61. They surveyed the area, made botanical studies - 'only the Ngamah held much plant life and zoologically, only ibex and ram chukor were much in evidence. Snow leopard tracks were seen and evidence of bears, but little else the people are unwashed and honest, and a few of the young speak Urdu; they learnt English quicker than we learnt Balti."

Doc Jones set up a dispensary for locals at Gol, and treated about 200 patients in one afternoon, including tooth extractions without anaesthetics 'but the courage of the Baltis made up for this In spite of all this practice, Doc Jones still broke one of my teeth when he tried to take it out later in the expedition," complained A.J.M. Smyth in his account.

 

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Dennis Davis described the 1957 expedition led by Alfred Gregory, XXI-58. 'Having enjoyed the luxury of climbing with Sherpas, this was a tough life, for not only did we have to carry the food up the mountain ourselves, but we had to cook it as well." They never had more than three fine days together, were snowed in and 'all our efforts had come to nothing."

Wolfgang Stefan's expedition of 1960, written up by Gunther Starker in XXII-59/60, was successful. Starker and Diether reached the summit from Camp III at 6 p.m., 'It was so sharp that we had to take turns in occupying its extreme tip.' They hurried down, lost their crampons, had a slip but Kiether held Starker, and they got to their tents by 9 p.m. However they both had their hands and feet frost-bitten. And then it took five days to get down in a raging tempest.

'All the porters came rushing wildly to meet us, shouting: "Dastoghil finished, Sahib: Dastoghil finished!" Crying with joy, they kept hugging us, kissing our hands and staring at us incredulously, as if we were ghosts returning from another world.'

 

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In 1958, the Austrians, having failed to get permission for the Hidden Peak, Gasherbrum IV, Chogolisa, or Rakaposhi, fell back on Haramosh, and their successful climb is described by H. Roiss in XXI-58. At Iskere, the Dayal gave notice in a trance that the project to climb Haramosh had annoyed the demons and spirits and there would be disasters: 2 sahibs and 3 Hunzas would die, and others would have a curse on them. The doctor fell 100 ft. in an ice couloir and broke some ribs; this showed the Dayal was right.

The anger of the Hunzas was concentrated on the LO Jameel- ur-Rahman who tried to keep them working; things worsened, he feared for his life and the Hunzas had to be sent home. This didn't end the mishaps: Roiss fell foul of an avalanche and dislocated a shoulder; 'this put an end to all local porters.'

Six new Hunzas were recruited; one was useless and sent back, '...we were by no means satisfied with the Hunzas as high-altitude porters by any normal standards. They were work shy, blatant malingerers producing every manner of illness in order to wangle rest-days. They were always making improper requests, and stole anything ..Our first crop of Hunzas had promptly sold ...part of the equipment which we had issued to them on the clear understanding that it would be theirs only when the job was finished...' And later at Camp I, waiting for the storm to end, 'we saw the Hunzas only once a day, when they came to fetch their rations. When the storm reached a high pitch of fury, we could hear them praying to Allah; they did nothing for themselves to ensure their own safety, they simply cowered, terrified in their tent. We had to force them to clear the snow from the roof and to repair the guy-ropes and poles.'

And yet later At Camp II there were five Hunzas going up to Camp III. Camp IV was 4000 ft below the summit; the summit team left at 1 a.m. and reached the summit at 2 p.m.; back to Camp at 8 p.m. The descent was an epic.

Somehow, this account of what was no doubt a heroic achievement, leaves a bad taste in the mouth, partly because of the description of the climbers' 'martyrdom', but mostly because of the contempt for the Hunzas demonstrated in such terms as 'cowered'; 'wangled'; 'malingerers'; 'stole anything', and so on. One immediately feels that the Hunzas had good reason not to be enthusiastic about working for this particular expedition. More appealing is the account that Erich Waschak gave of the Austrian Karakoram expedition 1961, in XXIII-61.

They climbed Mount Ghent 7400 m and Silver Throne; took home 60 plants and flowers, made meteorological observations. Wolfgang Axt reached the summit of Mount Ghent alone, and his broken English brings a freshness to the experience. 'The last slope to Camp IV is very steep I almost can't stay any more...finally I come to the lonely tent From the Camp IV col there is to climb a difference of thousand metres to conquer the peak the sun has perished behind the wonderful chain of Gasherbrum....I ..look for my comrades...What shall I do tomorrow probably the last fair day? I am alone....the success of our group depends on me only now. Finally I am determined to go I can't sleep any longer. At 2.30 I start for my bold attempt....A wind begins to blow the storm becomes stronger and drives ice needles ...over the ridge. ...I almost can't see anything. At 12.30 I reach the highest point, 7,400 m. I am the first human being on this lonely point....I fear frost bite...I move back It begins to snow. I feel very bad and exhausted I cannot distinguish between reality and appearance. I imagine a blue sea, green palms and a wonderful beach. I know that these thoughts contain a deadly peril I reach my comrades at about five. They congratulate and refresh me with delicious Ovomaltine.' Tirich Mir 25,237 ft (7692 m) Prof. Arne Naess, having climbed Tirich Mir in 1950, set off 14 years later to climb the South Wall of Tirich Mir East, 25,237 ft. XXVI-65. Two men reached the summit; during acclimatisation, they introduced their 'sports-minded' liaison officer Lt. Sabir Kamal 'to the enjoyment of downhill racing' on skis. G.F. White went to the Hindu Kush in 1963 and 1964 with students of the Peshawar University Mountaineering Club; the base camp in Rosh Gol valley could 'only be described as a climber's paradise.' In 1964 they went to Tirich Mir where Naess and the Norwegians 'were glad to have them attempt the West Peak while they were trying the unclimbed East Peak.'

 

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Capt. Henry Day described the Army Mountaineering Association's ascent of Tirich Mir, 1969, XXIX-69. 'The reputation of Chitralis portering for expeditions above Base Camp is not a particularly bright one,' he wrote. Khusamid-ul- Mulk, an uncle of the ruler of Chitral, accompanied them to BC and was of immense help. There were several enthusiastic skiers and the Barum glacier was 'found to be ideal skiing territory.' Three men reached the summit.

 

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'A generation ago it would have seemed incredible that by 1960 it would be positively difficult to pick an unclimbed twenty-five or twenty-six thousander off the map. Yet such, only seven years after the first ascent of Everest, is the predicament of those anxiously seeking their share in the Golden Age of Himalayan Mountaineering.' Thus Wilfrid Noyce, who finally went to Trivor 25,330 ft. with Don Whillans and climbed it. (Don Whillans led an expedition to Gauri Shankar, 23,440 ft. described by Ian Clough in XXVI-65. Raymond Lambert had declared the mountain impossible above 18,000 ft but the Whillans party reached 22,000 ft. The base camp was threatened by Tibetan bandits and the Nepalese militia came to help.)

On the return, Noyce spent a few days in Hunza. 'Lying in my sleeping bag beside the muddy Hispar I could not help being nagged by the eternal why? Why spend months, and years, and thousands of pounds, in order that we men may stand on a patch of snow for twenty minutes? And do not we, who build an altar to the Unknown Mountain and then harness ourselves so heavily that we cannot step out of the traces into the country around, deny ourselves pleasures of sight and sound, bird and flower, which we could have for comparatively little in cash and effort?'

'Achievement. It seemed a strangely nebulous word, just then. And yet, when I thought of the fun and good companionship, of the sheer beauty of those cloud visions, I knew that I had the best of at least one world. I remember shrugging my shoulders in my sleeping bag and laughing foolishly, aloud.'

 

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'Specially welcome were several teams of ladies who though newcomers performed significantly," wrote F.C. Badhwar, President of the HC, in his Editorial in XXVI-65.¹³ In XIX-55/ 56, Elizabeth Stark described the first all-woman expedition. All three members were from the Scottish Climbing Club; Monica Jackson had been brought up in India and spoke Hindustani. Pre-empted by Raymond Lambert from going to the Langtang, they went to the Jugal Himal and set up Base Camp in a 'delightful spot. The tents were sheltered by stalwart boulders, and round them grew primulas and cowslips. Above the camp towered a queenly mountain 21,844 ft. with the splendid name of Phurbi Chyachu. To our disappointment, the local people said this name meant "Rather like a chicken"."

Only one mountain seemed barely possible and Elizabeth and Monica Jackson reached the summit. 'I reached the summit half an hour behind Monica. She is only five feet one inch in height and seven stones in weight, but she is a really fast goer...she seemed jet-propelled."¹⁴

They called the mountain Gyalgen Peak after Mingma Gyalgen their Sirdar, because 'we were very pleased with the enthusiasm he and his men had shown throughout."

'We had achieved a great deal more than we believed possible when we set out, and we had experienced the delights of climbing in the Himalaya, the adventure of the unexplored, and the peace of the high camps. We could ask for no better than that."¹⁵

'Following hard on the heels of the Scottish Women's party, we have confirmed that women can organize and carry through a Himalayan expedition,' wrote Joyce Dunsheath of the Abinger Expedition 1956, XX-57. After being helped by Maj. Banon (no one passed through Manali without his aid) '4 Memsahibs, 4 Sherpas (Ang Tsering was Sirdar), 4 Ladakhis and 24 local porters set off for the great adventure.'

They climbed a lot of peaks including the Cathedral c. 20,500 ft; Eileen Gregory stayed on and climbed Deo Tibba 19,687 ft.

Anne Davies led the Women's Overland Himalayan expedition 1958, and wrote an account in XXII-59/60. The three women were backed by Lady Hunt, Dame Isobel Cripps and their husbands, 'all experienced mountaineers.' Anne spoke Hindi. Their aim was to survey the lives of women and children in Zanskar and in the countries they crossed, to make a film, and to climb, if possible, a virgin peak of 17-18,000 ft.

Wisely, they took a 5-day maintenance course at the Rover Works.

Waiting in Delhi for permission to go beyond the inner line, they met the Indians returning from Cho Oyu; some girls suggested they write to Jawaharlal Nehru. They did and received an invitation. They pored over maps with him, and he said, 'Well, I can see no objection to you young ladies carrying out your plans.. .I will see the Foreign Secretary about the.. .permits in the morning.' So they got their permits; off to Manali to Maj. Banon who got them two Ladakhi porters who had been with two of their husbands.

'The camp site at Kilang was ideal... Edelweiss and alpine flowers of every hue surrounded us On different days, Antonia and I had near shaves when we fell into two of these icy rivers.' They climbed their virgin peak of 18,500 which they named 'Biwi Giri' or Wives' Peak.

As a reward for their excellent service, they took their two Ladakhi porters to Delhi, their first visit to a city. When they left, 'Both of them were in tears as we said good-bye. We had walked 300 miles together, crossed five high passes and climbed a peak with them It is our great pleasure that we were able to make so many friends, especially in India, Pakistan and Zanskar itself.'

Joyce Dunsheath was asked to lead the first Indian Women's expedition to Mrigthuni 22,490 ft and she wrote an account in XXVI-65. Six Guide leaders had planned this expedition; they had seven Sherpas under Sirdar Tashi. Two parties reached the summit.

'Thus the expedition had been successful - the summit had been reached. There had been no accident or illness and I found considerable satisfaction in the fact that at 62 I was still physically strong enough to climb at high altitude. It is to the credit of these young women that they remained a happy, united party, not only during the arduous days of the approach march but also during the time spent at heights beyond anything they had ever before attempted.'

'Are there any peaks in the Himalayas suitable for two girls without any Himalayan experience to tackle alone?' asked Josephine Scarr, XXIII-61. With Maj. Banon's help, they set off as the Women's Kullu Expedition 1961, having arrived overland. Jospehine developed a tooth abscess and had to return 30 miles to Chattru where there was Indian doctor reading The Return of the Native. 'He was so delighted to have someone to talk to that it was nearly two hours before I could coax him away from discussing Hardy and the whole of English literature to the more immediate problem of my abscess ; luckily extraction was not necessary, and after only ten minutes' treatment I emerged cured.'

They climbed Lion Peak c. 20,000 ft, then succeeded on Central Peak, 'a beautiful pointed summit crowned by one block on which there was just room for the four of us to sit, our legs dangling into space.' Jigmet and Wangyal were with them.

The journey back was enlivened 'by the exchange of four gallons of surplus kerosene for a live sheep that provided four large meals for the six of us.'

Denise Evans wrote of the Jagdula expedition 1962, in XXIV- 62/63, when Dorothea Gravina and others went with Dawa Tenzing and eight Sherpas to the Kanjiroba Himal and climbed a summit of 21,500 ft.

Pushpa Athvale described her women's expedition to Kokthang 1966, XXVIII-67/68. There six women and they had Ang Temba and three other Sherpas with them. Camp II was at 18,800 ft. The summit attempt was on two ropes, and they reached 20,000 ft, 'the highest attained so far by any expedition to Kokthang.' That night they had 'a real nightmare with a thunderstorm and a heavy snow."

Returning from the Langtang, Peter Taylor, XXV-64, met Mrs. Leela Rao Dayal and her husband. She told him she had been climbing in the Langtang, but she looked so 'cool and composed that I assumed she'd been on a walking tour. It wasn't till I'd returned to Kathmandu that I learned of the accomplishments of this remarkable woman.'

And this remarkable woman described her expeditions in XXVI-65. When her husband Harishwar was held up by work, she went on her own with the redoubtable Angtharkay as Sirdar. She climbed to the Taweche Ridge to 20,000 ft. amidst some of the greatest mountains of the world: 'My life's dream had been fulfilled Angtharkay advised returning as our only equipment was a broken ice-axe of the first Indian team on Everest.'

On her second trip, she had collected a lot of equipment from a Japanese expedition, and again with Angtharkay, climbed a summit of 22,770 ft. And then there was yet a third trip that year.

This is an altogether delightful account, without heroics but with quiet achievement, following her early steps in mountaineering until she becomes an accomplished one. If my memory serves me right, she was a tennis champion in her youth as well.

In our unisex times, women's climbing still retains a special cachet. The 'Rendez-vous Hautes Montagnes' (RHM) is an annual meet of women alpinists; in 1996 they held their 29th meeting in Val Canali in the Dolomites, 20-27 July. Male companions were welcome.

 

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The accounts of expeditions to the giant peaks - the ones that Smythe would have categorised as duty rather than fun - have, it must be confessed, much of a muchness. The tons of equipment, the scores of porters, the base camp, the struggles through the ice fall, the establishment of camps, the to-ing and fro-ing between camps, the storms, the difficulties, the assault, the sickness and perhaps death, the triumph and the planting of flags, or the failure.

The accounts of the less glamorous trips - and we have well over a hundred of them - describing small parties climbing, trekking, camping, exploring, are sometimes more fun to read because they were fun to carry out. Some articles are extremely well written anyway; others are pedestrian, and record but pedestrian trips. Some names appear again and again, because as everyone knows, once you've been to the Himalaya, you always want to return: Gurdial Singh, Trevor Braham, Robert Pettigrew, James Roberts, Mohan Singh Kohli, Ang Tsering, Gyalzen, Dawa Thondup, Pasang. They saw the mountains as did one of Tolstoy's heroes, 'gigantic pure white masses delicately curved, the light fantastically intricate outline of the peaks showing sharply against the distant sky. He sensed all their immensity and their infinite beauty, and feared that it might be a dream.'¹⁶

The title of this section is, of course, completely misleading. Climbing the giants has lots of fun; climbing for fun has lots of severe difficulties. I've used it only to break up this inordinately long article into two and fool the editor into thinking there's some justification for it.

In a delightful article, 'Moderate Mountains for Middle-Aged Mountaineers', XXV-64, R.L. Holdsworth will have conducted you 'to all the Himalayan ranges I am familiar with and introduced you to enough moderate mountains to last you from middle age to the same state of decrepitude as I have unhappily arrived at.' And one meets a great many old friends: Jack Gibson, John Martyn, Gurdial Singh, Tenzing, Nandu Jayal, Nalni Jayal and others.

Middle-aged or not, dozens of articles reflect the joy of travel in the Himalaya with some climbing thrown in to add spice.

Gurdial"s 'Three months spent in Upper Garhwal and Adjacent Tibet' in XIX-55/56, covered journeys in 1951 and 1954; the first with Roy Greenwood and three Sherpas, the second with Lav Kumar who was 'the man to go travelling with in the hills."¹⁷ The article is redolent with the sights and smells of rivers, lakes, scenery to lift your spirits, flowers, birds: White-capped and Plumbeous Redstarts, Red-billed Choughs, Greenfinches, Eastern Grey Wagtails, Rubythroats, a Snow-cock with her brood; anemones, primulas, rhododendrons, violets.

One enjoys every aspect of the mountains with Gurdial, including his friendship with the faithful Diwan Singh and Kalyan Singh who had been so often with him: he is indeed 'The Complete Mountaineer". And all this I experienced in person when I went with him in 1958 to Mrigthuni (XXI-58). (We rather ungallantly pre-empted the ladies, XXVI-65.) For me this was the ideal Himalayan trip: four close friends, all the bundobust done by Gurdial before I arrived, a delightful trek, a successful climb of what Holdsworth would have termed a moderate mountain but a first ascent nonetheless.

Gurdial refused to write an account of Mrigthuni and forced me to do so; no doubt he forced Hari Dang to write of his two expeditions to the Nanda Devi Sanctuary in 1960 (XXIII-61) and 1961 (XXV-64). The first article is mostly about Hari's hunting experiences. When he shot a big male burrhel (I note, in passing, that the burrhel - like Leo Pargial - is submitted to many varieties of spelling) he asked, 'Perhaps (the burrhel's) focus was ... like mine, on the mystery and divinity, the beauty and complexity of all creation.

We were in empathy for a short moment. Why did I shoot him? I wish I could answer that." So do we.

Next year, they were with John Dias, Sum an Dubey and others. Bad weather defeated their attempt on Nanda Devi but they succeeded on Maiktoli 22,320 ft. Then to Trisul where Hari and John Dias attempted a night climb and encountered 'a silent electric discharge between differing masses of moist ionized air", a sight as awesome as this scientific description.

Suman Dubey was with Gurdial again on Kinnaur, XXVII- 66. They first attempted Reo Purgyol 22,210 ft (the mountain of many spellings)¹⁸ but half an hour from the summit they were enveloped in clouds and forced to retreat. They could have tried again but wanted to get on to Kinnaur Kailash. Deepak Kapoor developed pneumonitic pleurisy and though he was taken lower, passed away. 'The whole thing was inexplicable and the suddenness was shattering."

Gurdial suggested Reo Purgyol to Soli Mehta, whose trip there is refreshingly and amusingly described in XXVIII-67/68 (he spells it Leo Pargial, by the way). 'The Kinnaur porters are certainly as good as the Sherpas and are yet untouched by sophistication - as cheerful and hardy - much stronger than the miserable Garhwali - they are a joy to the mountaineer!"

And when he gets back, 'Beautiful scenery, the fresh air, the dizzy heights, the most wonderful companions - what more can one ask?"

Trevor Braham went with the Cambridge expedition to the Ratang and Parvati regions in 1955 (but couldn't accompany them in 1956), described by P. F. Holmes XX-57. They established once and for all the true height of Shilla (about 20,000 ft) climbed by a Survey of India khalasi in 1860, and supposedly 23,050 ft a record height until Longstaff's climb of Trisul, 310 ft higher.

Holmes' praise of the Ladkhi porters is worth repeating. 'A word must be added about the superlative quality of our Ladakhi porters, both in 1955 and 1956. Lolsun is as strong a man as I ever wish to see; Angrupp and Jigmet are uncomplaining and helpful men-about-the-camp; Sunom's sense of humour and fine cooking make him invaluable. All four are in addition excellent load-carriers. But Rikzen is in a class by himself he came with Trevor and me to every summit in 1955. This year, on more difficult climbs, he blossomed forth into a first-rate mountaineer. It is certain, that locally, Ladakhi porters like these will soon replace imported Sherpas. They are less expensive, more willing, less sophisticated and just as dependable.'

Trevor was with the Minapin expedition 1958, described by Dennis Kemp, XXI-58. The Mir of Nagar himself selected their high altitude porters, but when their liaison officer was recalled, they came out on strike. Then Trevor Braham, who had been held up in Rawalpindi, arrived: 'In no time Trevor, with his fluent Urdu, had engaged fifty coolies to carry our stores to the snowline, and selected seven men to act as porters." Trevor's leave ran out when they were still setting up camps and he had to return.

The men selected as high altitude porters had been given simple instruction in the use of the rope and ice axe 'but they were mostly disinterested except for Shuja, who volunteered to carry to Camp II as did Behrban. These two men were very loyal... and the only two worth recommending for future employment.'

From Camp IV at 21.500 ft. Ted Warr and Chris Hoyte went for the summit but clouds descended 'and we didn't see them again.' Next day they searched for them but saw no signs. 'We could scarcely take in the tragedy; they had been so fit and confident.'

Trevor Braham's own article on Swat and Indus Kohistan, XXIV-62/63 is particularly interesting for the history and background he gives of the region. His trip had become possible because he met the Waliahad of Swat 'during a weekend visit to Saidu Sharif from then on my path was miraculously smoothed out, and I was shown nothing but the utmost co-operation and hospitality by every State officer.'¹⁹

Trevor brings the same interest in the history of the region and its people to his article on Kaghan 1965 in XXVI-65. One learns much about this lovely valley drained by the Kunhar river. 'There are forests of deodar, pine and fir; alpine meadows, lakes; and a plentiful supply of huts and rest-houses linking attractive pathways." One also learns much about previous distinguished visitors to this region: A.L. Munnn, R.L. Holdsworth.

Trevor Braham was with John Tyson's expedition to explore the Kanjiroba Himal, described by John Cole, XXVI-65. 'Occasionally we saw well-armed bandits and had our stories prepared of how our Queen would drop bombs on them if they molested us, but they kept clear or came just to be photographed.' Tyson returned to the Kanjiroba in 1969, when a four year ban on the area was lifted, XXIX-69. Thondup's Dalphu 'porters were the toughest men I have known, and the country the most savage Nearly 10 years of effort have gone into the exploration of the hidden and elusive Kanjiroba Himal. Others will come and reach the highest point, but will not perhaps experience to the full the excitement of exploring unknown valleys, of piecing the map together, and travelling with such companions as I have had.'

Trevor's 13th. expedition was with M.H. Westmacott on 'A Visit to the Ushnu Gol (N-E Chitral) 1968', XXIX-69, but it was marred by a poisoned foot. They believed that they had found an area not already worked over by too many parties; however, they learnt there were no less than 15 Japanese expeditions in Chitral!

When they started negotiations for porters at Burzund, they found that 'demarcation disputes are not confined to British industry The men of Ushnu would not permit anyone but themselves to carry for an expedition in the Ushnu Gol. They were labelled rogues and robbers by the men of Wasisch, who themselves have a monopoly of the Ziwar Gol.' The porters struck the very next day; Trevor and Mike walked to Ushnu and engaged porters there.

Base camp was 'a pleasant spot at the foot of the Chhutidum terminal moraine, with lovely water and a mass of golden ragwort and purple river beauty the view to the south was dominated by the beautiful north face of Noghor Zom.'

Robert Pettigrew set off for Deoban and Indrasan, 20,410 ft. XXI-58; for allegedly crossing the Inner Line, they were arrested at Kyelang. Mike Thompson's equipment was held up by the Bombay customs so he devised a pair of boots and a Manali cobbler made them. One of the tents caught fire, they found the porters'aggravatingly slow and reluctant to increase speed.' They were storm bound on the mountain, and though they finally got to 1000 ft. of the summit.

Pettigrew was back in 1961, XXIII-61. They climbed Deo Tibba, the 'fulfilment of a three-year ambition for me'; failed to climb Indrasan; taught the Ladakhis to play cricket during a two day rest, did some surveying, climbed White Sail 21,148 ft. that Jimmy Roberts had climbed before. Prof. K. Onodera's seven-man expedition, described by him in XXIV-62/63, climbed Indrasan and Deo Tibba on the same day.

One of Pettigrew's ambitions might have been fulfilled, but he had others. In October 1963 he spent a fortnight among odd corners in Kullu, XXV-64, climbed a summit over 17,000 ft. and 'toasted the mountain in whisky while the Ladakhis sang haunting Tibetan songs'. A few years later, he was back, going 'Across the Sara Umga La', XXVII-66, examining Papsura 21,165 ft. and deciding that any pre- monsoon expedition in Kullu could expect to lose 25% of its time in bad weather. 'Despite the locals' view that the bad weather of recent summers can be attributed to the wrath of the gods at the impious scattering of Mr. Nehru's ashes from an aeroplane, or to Chinese Atom Bomb tests the uncertainty of Kulu weather, pre-monsoon, can be ascertained from every account of mountaineering there since the days of Bruce.'

And a tribute to the Ladakhis: 'There would be no expedition successes in Kulu without the participation of these hardy and cheerful hillmen.' A change of heart? Perhaps it was Ladakhis that Dr. W. Hamberger had with him when he went on a camping trip from Manali in 1960, XXIV-62/63. He climbed 'Baldor Parbat' named after their tireless porter, had to bivouac on the way down, and next day were met by their two other porters Sonam and Zumpi 'who came running towards us, waving their welcome. There were tears in our eyes as we hugged one another; for they told us how worried they had been repeating their prayer Chn Mani Pami Hum all night through.'

Pettigrew wrote of the Brucc's Solang Weisshorn": ' the Solang nullah is undoubtedly the most picturesque in Kulu." He was on an Indo-British expedition, organized by the Bombay Climbers" Club; the party included J. Nanavati, presumably the present president of the HC. Thanks to a herd of ibex who showed them the way to an idyllic site for Base Camp, they climbed the 19,450 ft. summit, having survived a wind slab avalanche, 'an eventful and memorable ascent." Back at John Banon's guest house, they celebrated 'the end of another Kulu campaign with a civilized cup of tea."

Pettigrew was back with a team of eight to climb Papsura, XXVIII-67/68. The twin peaks of Papsura and Dhannsura, the Peaks of Evil and Good, 'are said to vary in height according as Good or Evil prevails in the world. Needless to say. Papsura is significantly higher." Wangyal shot a mad dog as they left Manali, so they had to endure 'every type of mountain penance": porters striking, trying to reject the new ten rupee note, storms, an electric storm that caused the aluminium frames of their packs to administer mild but painful burns.

Coming down Avalanche Couloir in deep snow, Mike fell, Colin was jerked off and the two pulled Pettigrew down too. All three fell uncontrollably, 'at one point Colin and I were clasped in a fond embrace." They fell 1500 ft and Pettigrew dislocated his left hip. A stretcher was improvised from an air mattress, skis and aluminium pickets; John Ashbumer and Sherpa Pasang rushed to Manali in record time to return with a stretcher party. In the meantime, Geoffrey Hill and Colin Pritchard made a successful dash for the summit.

On Pettigrew's fourth season in Kullu, he climbed Kullu Pumori, 21,500 ft Maj. John Banon's guest house in Manali, the starting point for just about every expedition in Kullu, also served that purpose for J. O'F. Lynam, XXI-58 and XXIII-61, on his expeditions to the Bara Shigri. His party came overland, and bought all their food in India, saving delays at the Indian customs 'who were most helpful' (sic!). Also, 'we were well pleased with our porters, and there seems no reason for ever importing Sherpas into Kulu again."

The 1958 trip focused on survey work, the 1961 one on climbing, and they climbed a summit of over 21,000 ft. Lynam's big toe was frost bitten and he couldn't get his boot on, so he wrapped it in duvet hoods and scarves and put it in a rucksack - and slithered down. He 'soon acquired a technique of heaving the monstrous boot along by the rucksack straps."

Inevitably there were expeditions mounted by Cambridge and Oxford, by the RAF and by the Services, and by various enterprising Clubs and Associations. Thus the Cambridge expedition to Nagir ('haven of untrammelled splendour"), XXIII- 61, undertook glaciological and botanical studies on the Minapin glacier and celebrated Independence Day at Chait with feasting and moonlit dancing. The expedition members performed the Eightsome Reel, and 'This," wrote W.P. Gamble,'if the amount of noise it provoked can be the judge, was a resounding success."

An Oxford expedition of scientists went to Nepal in 1954, XIX-55/56 and climbed a rock peak of over 20,000 ft.; an RAF expedition went to Lahoul (via Maj. Banon) in 1955, described in the same issue. Fit. Lt. Nalni Dhar Jayal of the IAF was with them; they climbed Tambu or Tent Peak and others. Inst. Lieut.

M.S. Kohli I.N. led a successful expediton to Nanda Kot, 22,510 ft. XXIII-61; Ang Tsering was the Sirdar.

Ang Tsering had been on the Chamba-Lahoul expedition, 1958, XXI-58, porters recruited courtesy of Maj. Banon. The leader Hamish McArthur was taken ill coming down after an unsuccessful attempt on their mountain and died from cerebral haemorrhage.

There was the party from the Royal Warwickshire Regiment, including two Gurkhas, from Hong Kong, XXIII-61, advised by the ubiquitous Jimmy Roberts. Sadly, just before they left, one of their members fell 90 ft on a rock climb in the New Territories and was rescued by a daring helicopter pilot. Three major operations but he lost his right leg. The 'small and very inexperienced" party didn't succeed on their mountain, but 'We had the most splendid experience of our lives and we had acquired the taste for this sort of venture. We had met the happy, laughing people of Nepal and seen their home."

The expedition cost £900 and ended up with a credit of £23.

The Joint Pakistan-British Forces Karakoram expedition, 1962, wanted to try one of the two summits of the Khinyang- Pumarikish massif. Maj. Mills was the leader; the co-leader, Capt. Jawed Akhter of Malubiting and Masherbrum, broke his leg playing football earlier in the year and so finally there were 4 Brits and 3 Pakistanis. Above Camp III, P.J. Homiblow and Khurshied Ahmed saw something fall and realised it was Mills and Jones who had fallen 5000 ft. to the Pumarikish glacier.

The first Polish expedition since 1939 went to the Karakoram in 1969 and climbed the North Peak of Malubiting, XXIX-69. They tried the west peak but a violent snowstorm put an end to their attempt. On their return flight, 'we began to long for the Karakoram again."

A Japanese group wandered in the Himalaya, XXII-59/60, an author, a painter, a photographer, and a doctor, all "apprcciators of the beauties of the mountains." They had Dawa Thondup and two Sherpas with them. They went to the Jugal Himal and admired Gyalgen Peak that Monica Jackson and the 'intrepid ladies had succeeded in their brilliant ascent". Then to the Langtang valley 'extolled as one of the most beautiful valleys in the Himalayas." Fukata Kyuya then went upstream with one porter and met a group of lamas reading the sutras. 'Near by a Swiss had settled and was making butter and cheese. I was struck by the intrepid pioneering spirit of this man who could venture quite alone into this remote spot, so cut off from civilized society. He gave me a warm welcome and fed me with yak's milk and Tibetan tea.'

The Japanese were, of course, busy in the Himalaya. Dr. Yajiro Sakato's party climbed Noshaq in the Wakhan, XXII-59/60; a Polish team arrived at the same time and talked of joining forces but the Japanese were already acclimatised and didn't want to wait.

Sirdar Ang Tsering was with Akira Takahashi's party (XXV- 64) on the Big White Peak, the name they kept 'in honour of Monica Jackson's party, the discoverers and pioneers of this district.' Three parties reached the summit; 'I inform the Sirdar of our success. Sherpas are now all round me to shake hands...I ask them to boil some sweet sake and drink toast with the Sherpas."

Makato Numata's party climbed Mount Numbur, 22,817 ft. XXV-64. Baltoro Kangri, 7312 in was climbed by Dr. Seihei Kato's expedition XXV-64. Tt was found that the native high- altitude porters were not active at altitudes higher than 6000 m. so that we had to leave them at Camp I."

The Pakistan-Japan joint Karakoram expedition (XXV-64) to Saltoro Kangri 7742 m with 10 Japanese and four Pakistani members of the Karakoram Club of Lahore was successful. The Khinyang Chhish 7852 m. Expedition of Dr. Shiraki, 1965, had to take the porters that the Mir of Nagar selected - as others had had to do. T feel obliged to confess that we were 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."

They strung a 120 m. steel wire across the sheer cliff of the 'Bull's Head" and transported loads 'in the air." On the way to the summit, they unroped and a slab avalanche carried away Nakamura. A search for his body was unsuccessful and the expedition was abandoned.

In Nepal, Seiki Nakano described the climbing of Chamlang 7319 m. in XXVII-66. Soh Ainma and Pasang Phutar III were on the summit team.

Wilfrid Noyce had thought it incredible how quickly the number of unclimbed peaks had dwindled; Peter Taylor in 'Langtang Lining, 1964' XXVII-66 was happy to leave his peak for someone else. In a very well- written account that is a pleasure to read, he said, 'As the number of unclimbed peaks in the Himalaya dwindle year by year, no doubt those who still look forward to a "first ascent" read the results of climbing expeditions with a little anxiety let me put your mind at ease: Lining is still unclimbed and is likely to remain so for quite a few seasons yet.'

Having realised that the mountain was beyond their resources, they turned back, dreading 'the thought of the descent and keep putting it off by unnecessarily checking our gear " 'Lining, anyone? Not me, thanks just the same "

Peter Steele received a 'priceless invitation to visit Bhutan" through a meeting with His Majesty the King, and very sensibly went off in January 1967 (XXVIII-67/68) with his wife and two small children, to carry out a survey of endemic goitre. It was an idyllic trip with ponies, the children strapped on - Adam with his teddy bear. They encountered snow and gales, enjoyed splendid scenery, and he climbed a 17,080 ft. summit.

'The next day we met a fairyland beauty in the gorge. All the trees were laden with snow and the sun breaking through made shafts of light which reflected brightly off the white carpet flower blooms were bent by the weight of the snow." Weren't the children a nuisance? They were 'a tonic to the flagging spirit, the greatest fun and a passport to the friendship of the Bhutanese, who welcomed us as a family rather than as a mysterious party of explorers.'

S. Kunaver, writing about the Yugoslav expedition to the Trisul Group, 1960, in XXII-59/60 felt it should be described as an experimental expedition as it was the first Yugoslav venture. They climbed Trisul II and III, and got a lot of publicity which helped future expeditions from that country. (Oh, that they had stuck to climbing and tennis and not indulged in ethnic conflict!)

John Tyson, who had circled the Api and Nampa Massif in 1953 with W.H. Murray, spent three months in West Nepal in 1961 with two companions (XXIII-61), to map the ranges surrounding the Jagdula Khola and climb some peaks. They crossed the Bheri river by a bridge bearing the name of 'Henderson, Aberdeen' which had been earned up for 80 miles through the foothills in 1927.

'Not a single doctor visits this huge area and each night many pathetic cases were brought to us for treatment, often from distant valleys Not all our visitors came for treatment. The majority came to stare, for no white man had ever been seen in this part '

One evening a thunderstorm struck and their tent was filled with the smell of cordite. 'Grabbing the Sherpas, we stumbled down a steep slope and cowered in the snow while the zips of our down jackets glowed and lightning played on the ridge above. We escaped with our lives but the wireless set had been put out of action."

The climbs to their survey stations, mostly between 13 and 17,000 ft., 'often through snow-covered forests of great beauty, were among the most enjoyable days The forests abounded in game - bear, bharal, wild goat and ram chukor. Rhododendrons and azaleas flowerd side by side, and primulas, anemones and potentillas covered the open slopes."

Gordon Jones spent a fortnight Northeast of Pokhara, XXII- 59/60; he contrasted the local shepherds" practice of leaving dogs to guard the huts while they chased off after the flocks with the New Zealand practice which was the opposite. Near the eastern end of the Lamjung Himal, there was a meadow 'ideal for a rest camp, with a generous clear stream, a tiny lake, and fine views of Manaslu and Himalchuli. Even in September there were many flowers, mainly blue gentians and small ferns."

The Club Proceedings in XXI-58 recorded that a 'notable feature, deserving special mention, is the increasing interest shown by Indians in trekking and climbing. There is no doubt that this "feeling" for the mountains has come to stay." And in his editorial in XXVI-65, F.C. Badhwar referred to climbing clubs being formed in several schools and colleges.

H.V.R. Iyengar wrote an interesting account of a month spent in Sikkim, XXII-59/60, trying Kangchenjau. On the way, at Lachen dak bungalow, he 'noticed an odd-looking character whose face looked familiar." It was Angtharkay, who had been with Trevor Braham on Kangchenjau in 1949. He had retired from climbing and was working as a contractor, and 'proved to be charming and courteous, and to my astonishment very correct and formal." Iyengar reached c. 19,000 ft.

Lt.-Cmdr. M.S. Kohli I.N. wrote of Nandu Jayal's expediton to Saser Kangri, 25,170 ft in 1956 (XXV-64). 'The week I spent in Panamik will remain unforgettable in my life. Our camp was situated in a garden studded with poplar trees, on the bank of a brook and hardly a few yards from the great Nubra River.

We received the greatest hospitality from the local village folk "

They spent three weeks reconnoitering the peak and access; Kohli climbed a 21,000 ft. peak alone; and Nandu and two others climbed Sakang peak 24,150 ft.

Commodore S.N. Goyal led an expedition to Neelkantha- Chaukhamba, XXIII-61. All five members got to the summit of Chaukhamba after a bivouac at 23,000 ft, but Rawat suffered frost-bite and lost all his toes. The party to Neelkantha got above 20,000 ft but a snow storm drove them back.

The Commodore pays tribute to the Mana porters: 'No words can describe adequately the faithful service rendered (by them). Six of them risked their lives in attempting snow work up to 19,000 ft. and beyond The tough 45 year old Sirdar Pasang Dawa Lama and his colleague Ajeeba need no special commendation "

Sonam Gyatso led an expedition of 15 members to Kangchenjau, 22,603 ft, in 1961 (XXIII-61). Three members reached the summit; they also climbed Yulhekhang 21,090 ft and Chombu 21,000 ft.

Fifteen 'young amateur Bengali climbers" went to Mana 23,860 ft in 1961 and Biswadeb Biswas describes their attempt in XXIII-61, They had 12 Sherpas under Ang Tsering. They established Camp V at 22,500 but met a raging blizzard and had to turn back.

The Indian Army mounted three major expeditions in 1962; in XXIV-62/63, Capt. S.N. Dubey described the Mana-Nilgiri expedition led by Capt. Jagjit Singh. They made two attempts on Nilgiri Parbat 21,240 ft. but without success. On the second attempt, Dubey fell and pulled Dorje and Kalden off; luckily no serious damage was done.

Chanchal Mitra described the first ascent of Tirsuli 23,210 ft. XXVII-66; this was his second attempt. They had a blizzard at Camp IV; they reached the summit and got back to Camp V after a 17 hour day. 'We approached the mountain in a spirit of pilgrimage and it had been kind to us in allowing us to pay homage to the top. We are grateful to it."

B.P. Banerji described the climbing of Nanda Ghat, 21,690 ft. in 1961, XXVII-66. Tt was brought to a success mostly by young men with no formal training in mountain-craft and Sherpa porters could not be engaged for shortage of funds." The leader, Chaudhuri was an experienced climber.

There were nine members from Bombay of the Hanuman expedition, XXVII-66, and two teams got to the summit, 19,930 ft. There were also nine members on the Chaturangi Expedition, described by Sujit Bose in the same issue. A four man team reached the summit of Bhagirathi II, c. 21,500 ft. but had trouble on the way back. Karma, who had been on Everest, slipped and pulled the whole team down for over 700 ft. Amar died in the fall, Karma and Gyalbo were badly injured, Raj was almost unscathed. It was already dark. Gyalbo died that night and Karma the next day; Raj was brought down and IAF helicopters were able to fly him out after five days. He lost several toes.

In 1965, a Police expedition climbed Ganesh Parbat in the Zanskar Range, 21,430 ft. Sheoraj Singh described this in XXVI- 65; 'my chief adviser...was Gurdial Singh." Ten men reached the summit. In XXIX-69 Sheoraj Singh described a walk through the Great Himalayan and Zaskar Ranges and the ascent of a virgin peak 19,500 ft. in 1968, apparently a training course for the Border Security Forces. The Mountaineers" Club, Calcutta, organized an expedition to North Garhwal in 1968 (XXVIII-67/68) which climbed two peaks which they named after a mountaineer Gouranga and the Chief Minister of West Bengal, Bidhan Parbat.

Fit. Lt. V.P. Singh described the N.D.A. expedition to the Kumaon, 1968 (XXVIII-67/68); they aimed for Kalanka 22,740 ft. and Changabang 22,520. The technical difficulties were too great, so they climbed three unclimbed peaks.

Yashoda N. Singh walked 300 miles through Lahoul, Zanskar and Jaminu in 1968, XXVIII-67/68; he noted that in Padam 'Buddhists and Muslims intermix and participate in each other's festivals."

Maj. H.V. Bahuguna described the Indo-British expedition, 1969, in XXIX-69; they had difficulties with their porters from Manali; climbed Duphao Jot 20,011 ft. and Baihali Jot 20,602 ft. "What has indeed been the most satisfying experience is the admirable team spirit that manifested itself throughout we lived and worked together, ate the same food, pitched our tents and climbed together and shared the same fears and hopes."

The present editor of the HJ, Harish Kapadia, makes his first appearance in the Journal in XXIX-69 with his account of the Sunderdunga-Tharkot (20,010 ft) expedition, 1969. The Sunderdunga Valley, 'with its deep and narrow gorges, thick forests, lush green meadows, abundant wild life and the snowcapped mountains," offered beauty in all its forms.

Above Camp II on Tharkot, they were caught in an avalanche: 'We rolled and tumbled unconscious of everything else. I felt breathless and the swimming motions, which I did vigorously, helped a little We were all buried in the debris of snow. Luckily none of us was buried too deeply. Sherpa Wangchuk was free and came to help us, with blood running down his cheek. He pulled out Boga who was covered with blood and groaning.... then with his bare hands he dug Dawa out I was buried up to my neck and finding it increasingly difficult to breathe, I struggled helplessly shouting for help After some hard digging with hands they hauled me out by my arm pits, all entangled in ropes.

They tried to find a knife but there was none. Suddenly Wangchuk had a brainwave. He broke his Thermos flask and used its glass to cut the rope."

They struggled down to base camp; Boga had cracked two ribs and injured his skull. The porters were too frightened to go back to Camp II to bring down the equipment, but their fright was overcome when 'We offered some rice and money to the local priest who made the route safe by some wild gestures and prayers!"

Adolf Diemberger in XXVII-66 gave an account of the Teutonic thoroughness with which the German and Austrian Alpine Clubs planned their exploration of the Hindu Kush. The German Himalayan Expedition, 1965, described by Gunter Hauser in the same volume described the climbing of Gangapurna 24,443 ft. in the Annapurna Range.

John Ashbumer was overwhelmed by the breathtaking view on his first venture up the road from Kullu to Manali, XXVIII- 67/68. In 1967, on the lower slopes of Mukarbeh he had the tragic task of bringing down the bodies of his friends who had died at Camp I; he found 'the authorities and director of a local mountaineering institute uncooperative and obstructive." The following year, from Camp I, they watched a party from St. Stephen's College, Delhi, scale Manali peak, 'a staggering feat when one member's experience was limited to an ascent of Snowdon.' Gupturam, the apprentice cook, emerged from his sleeping bag at Base Camp 'to find a bear looking him straight in the face. Fortunately the uninvited guest wandered elsewhere ' With the help of Wangyal, an expert on ice and loose rock, they reached the summit.

There were other expeditions: the Netherlands Himalayan expedition, 1967 (XXVIII-67/68); the Second Czech Expedition to the Hindu Kush, 1967, in the same issue, which climbed Tirich Mir; Alfred Linsbauer wrote of his visit to the Chiantar glacier region in the Eastern Hindu Kush, 1967, XXVIII-67/68, with three friends from Munich, when they made 13 first ascents including Koh-i-Chiantar 6416 m; the Hindu Kush expedition of the group from Graz, 1968 (XXIX-69) who were pleasantly surprised when they arrived in Pakistan by car and the customs officers 'did not even look inside the car!'. They climbed several peaks, the main one being Shachiokun 6214 m.

Rudolf Pischinger's article 'Diran 1968' was reprinted in XXIX-69 from an Austrian journal; they climbed Diran or Minapin 7266 m. They had brought a novel oxygen generator which was supposed to release oxygen by decomposition of a chemical by body heat. '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.'

'Mountaineering is a game second only to the greatest and best of all man's games, life,' J.T.H. Allen quoted G.I. Finch in his very well-written account of the Manchester Karakoram Expedition, 1968, to Malubiting 24,451 ft. XXVIII-67-68. Trouble with porters - 'Beware the coolies of Dache' - police were brought in, but then it all worked out. Ian Grant tended the sick, and 'they presented us with fresh meat of a goat slaughtered with a pen knife. 'One of the locals came forward claiming to be a dyall, or fairy mystic, who could communicate with the fairies of the peaks. 'Submerging his head in the heavy smoke of a smouldering juniper, he became entranced and to a large gathering of locals and the expedition, he uttered omens for our success."

Camps were setup in 'magnificent scenery, enjoyable climbing where no man had trodden before, and technically interesting as well." Above Camp III, tragedy struck; a rock knocked Rip off balance and he fell at least 2000 ft. They finally found his lifeless body in a very dangerous gully, swept by stone and ice-fall.

While Colin Pritchard described the Mountains of Malana in XXVIII-67/68, when they climbed Jagatsukh 17,15 5 and Consolation Peak 16,800 ft, it was Dervla Murphy in the same issue who gave an absolutely fascinating account of the Malanis.²⁰ They had lived in their remote plateau for about 5000 years, and had their own religion, a primitive form of Hinduism, had never had anything to do with any ruling power, and took no part in the life of the nation. Most of their cash came from hunting the musk deer, which abounded there. The article deserves to be read in full; but one has to wonder, with fear, what changes must have come about since Dervla Murphy undertook her study of these isolated people.

Perhaps it would be right to end this article with a quote from her study: '...through yet another indescribably lovely valley - and it was yet another perfect day of clear, deep blue skies and warm, golden sunshine, with the air so pure that merely to breathe was a joy. It's not surprising that the Kulu valley and its side valleys were chosen by sages and saints in Vedic times for meditation and prayer - I'd choose them, too, if I were given either to meditation or prayer! And Mr. Nehru, as a regular visitor to Manali to get away from it all, is evidently in agreement with me.'

SUMMARY

A continuing series on the Himalayan Journals, its past and present relations.

 

Footnote

1. On about 5 May 1996, Andre Georges, the Swiss guide and companion of Erhard Loretan, climbed Dhaulagiri solo and without oxygen. He had nine companions at Base, and the final climb - fourth attempt - took 19 hours for the ascent and six for the descent. Ten days later he climbed Annapurna solo also without oxygen taking 22 hours forthe final assault. Next objective: Makalu. Meanwhile, Chantal Maudit, the French woman climber, was achieving her fourth and fifth 8000ers; on 10 May 1996 she climbed Lhotse and on 24 May, Manaslu: both without oxygen. Ang Tsering was her companion. She dedicated her climb of Manaslu to the daughter of her friend Rob Hall, the New Zealand guide who had just died with his client on Everest.
2. To mark the 40th anniversary of their climb, Albert Eggler wrote a special account in Les Alpes, 4/1996; he contrasted the two different routes taken by the Swiss expeditions of 1952 and 1956. Both expeditions were sponsored by the Swiss Foundation for Alpine Exploration.
3. The excellent book, Wild Swans: Three Daughters of China, by Jung Chang, 1991, gives some idea of how millions of people became hypnotised by Chairman Mao - such things have of course happened elsewhere as well.
4. In early May 1996, it was reported that 15 Nepalese climbers 'containing sacks will ...start to collect garbage on Mount Everest, often desribed as "the world's highest junkyard". "Our aim is to collect 1500 kilograms of trash in 50 days" said Dawa Norbu Sherpa, president of the Nepal Mountaineering Association." This is the fifth climb to retrieve garbage, and the first all-Nepalese one. (International Herald Tribune, 3 May 1996)
5. I cannot help agreeing with Madgavkar completely, though in doing so, I also cannot help feeling a humbug. In 1959, I was invited by the Sponsoring Committee to join the pre-Everest expedition and, if selected, the Everest expedition. Knowing myself to be a very moderate climber, I was amazed (but flattered) to be asked. It was not becoming modesty, or any belief that Indians should stick to more modest mountains that made me turn down the invitation, but rather the fact that I had just been appointed Executive Assistant to the ILO Director-General, and to ask for any extended leave was out of the question.
6. As Richard Cowper wrote in the Financial Times, 27 April 1996, 'Everest no longer provides the solitary experience of the past but it remains more than a jamboree for rich commercial expeditions." A recent ad in a British newspaper read: 'Climb Mount Everest! ..In Spring 1997 we willl be operating our 4th expedition to the world's highest mountain. The team will be professionally led and provided with full Sherpa and oxygen support. Price: US $ 39,000 per person. Applicants will need to demonstrate that they have adequate exprience "
7. Perhaps somewhat ironically, the latest issue of the HJ, Vol. 52, 1996, carries an article by Rob Hall on his climb of Makalu.
8. Financial Times. 18-19 May 1996
9. International Herald Tribune, 29 May 1996
10. Sir Robert Charles Evans died in December 1995; there is an obituary in HJ Vol. 52. 1996.
11. The Autobiography of a Mountain Climber, by Lord Conway of Allington, Jonathan Cape, 1920.
12. The Climbers, by Chris Bonington, 1992
13. I was on my way to the Cabane de Requin that weekend and passed the Mer de Glace terminus and hotel. There were dozens of people watching Bonatti's climb through telescopes; there seemed to me an unpleasant, ghoulish atmosphere about this, as if they were waiting for some disaster. We didn't stop and luckily, there was no disaster.
14. Fateh Chand Badhwar died in October 1995; there is an obituary in HJ Vol. 52. 1996.
15. I can testify to this personally. Monica, on old family friend, came to the Alps the following year and we spent a few delightful days in the Mt. Blanc range, culminating in the Dent du Geant; she let me lead only because I had a longer reach. Rene Dittert and Ernest Hofstetter happened to be doing the Geant the same day, and our paths crossed a few times. We all missed the last telepherique down from the Aiguille du Midi and spent a convivial evening together in the Torino hut.
16. Monica Jackson told me that initially her acompanions had been a bit concerned about being three women amongst several male Sherpas and porters; however, from the start the males behaved with great delicacy and gentlemanliness and the women's unease completely disappeared.
17. The Cossacks, by Leo Tolstoy, 1862.
18. Lav Kumar is a noted naturalist; witness his many articles in the Journal of the Bombay Natural History Society, including 'Bird Migration Across the Himalayas" Vol. 75 1978 pp. 212-213 and 'Rosy Pelicans Pelecanus onocrotalus Linn, in the Himalaya" Vol. 91 1994. p. 452.
19. I thought it quite amusing that that Leo Pargial (or whatever) be spelled in a dozen different ways; I realled Col. Lawrence's lighthearted strictures to his publisher about the variants he had used for the same place. But then I have just been reading Harish Kapadia's fascinating book Spiti, and find that Rio Purgyil (sic) and Leo Pargial are different species. I gave up.
20. At the time of writing this, Gurdial Singh and I are about to go to Saidu Sharif at the invitation of the person who must have been the Waliahad that Trevor Braham refers to, so I can hardly help taking a very particular interest in this account!
21. Dervla Murphy was an intrepid Irish lady; a mention of some of her books gives an indication of her adventurous life: Full Tilt: Ireland to India with a Bicycle: Tibetan Foothold: The Waiting Land: A Spell in Nepal: In Ethiopia with a Mule: On a Shoestring to Coorg: Where the Indus is Young. And her autobiography Wheels Within Wheels.

 

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