ALL ALONE WHEN TIME DISAPPEARS

Translated by Mark Bension

MASAFUMI TODAKA

29 JULY, 1.20 a.m. Bathed in the light of the full moon with no wind, in a deep, deep blue stillness of night I leave the 7900 m attack camp behind. I can see faintly out of the darkness the bottleneck towering like a giant above me. The snow is hard-packed with very little trail-breaking. No better condition could be available than this for my climb without oxygen. Still half asleep, my body and I move slowly towards the bottleneck. After about two hours I caught up with the Italian climbers who had started out before me. Gradually the slope of the snow face steepens. As I near the entrance of the bottleneck the loose surface snow becomes deeper.

Dawn breaks. As the sun rises off the eastern horizon the first light reaches the summit of Broad Peak. Then in order Masherbrum, Gasherbrum, Chogolisa, are illuminated, and then the summit. My sleepiness melts away and at once my heavy body comes awake.

I clear the bottleneck and start into the traverse. The Italians are struggling in deep snow. I call out to them and take the lead in trail-breaking. The snow is unstable and formed into a cornice, turning the traverse into somewhat difficult proposition. For my descent, I leave fifty meters of six millimeter rope behind as a fix. I check the time. It is already 9 a.m. The deep snow in the bottleneck had ended up taking more time than I thought. From here it is a straight climb to the summit. My chances for the summit depend on how long it will take to get through the snow on the steep slope in front of me. Looking towards the upper part of Triangle Rock, I start breaking trail.

The snow is waist deep, my body condition is really good. I feel like this is what I have been waiting for. I let my body relax, smoothly taking deep breaths, keeping my speed even and rhythmical not to overdo it as I break trail. There is at least another seven or eight hours to the summit, I have to climb in such a way as to not leave myself fatigued. Being where I am right now, I can't help but be happy. From the very core of my body I feel a joyous overflowing strength bubbling up. I am over 8300 m now. There are only two things floating around inside my head, climbing and then descending. That's all. The progression of time has disappeared. That is merely a figment created by our consciousness. In actuality, our existence consists of only a series of instants. Just like the shutter of a camera, our consciousness condenses all into single instant. I reached Triangle Rock after about two hours. I was making good time. Two years before it had taken four hours. From here the snow face becomes even steeper. The snow became softer by another grade, it went from being waist deep to chest deep, walking becoming something more like diving. Using both arms I work my entire body through the deep snow. I had hardly eaten anything in the last three hours but strangely my body still moves on well, climbing, climbing. I am opening up. My existence fades away, no I guess more correctly put, my individual being fades away. Energy flows through my body. It is the overflowing, infinite power of the universe, inexhaustible...

I am opening up, opening up. There is no closing, no isolation. There is no being confined to the small world of myself...

Noon, in one I hour I cleared the snow face and came out on top of a small ridge. 8400 m. Another dreaded, soft snow face. I would have to be careful in descent. I have to descend before dark with sufficient reserve energy. The majority of accidents on K2 occur while descending here. From here at 8400 m on, death is like a partner. I am conscious that I am in the danger zone, when the ability to recognize the danger is lost, returning alive becomes very difficult. That is what no-oxygen climbing in ultra-high altitudes is.

I was debating for quite a while. To climb or not to climb. If the snow conditions were good, I could be at the summit in another four hours. But, if the snow was anything like what I had up to this point, it would be difficult. After about twenty minutes the Italian climbers caught up. They too seemed worried about the time and debating as to what to do. They looked quite fatigued.

I looked up above me. From here on up is where the wind is. The snow shouldn't be deep. I still had lots of energy. I felt no incompatibility with the mountain and the surrounding world, it felt right. If I could keep my consciousness from drifting, I would be all right. I started climbing towards the summit again. I slowly climb along the Chinese and Pakistani border. My five senses become emancipated. They melt away. Into the white snow covered slope, into the sky, into the mountain, into space...

I crossed the first peak. In front of me there was another, about eight meter high peak. That would probably be the summit. I approach the snow face, using both axes I throw myself into the climb. 'Ahh, there is still another peak.' I sat down on snow. The hands on my watch had moved to show 4 p.m. I wonder how much further I have to go. Feeling discouraged I made radio contact with my wife Yumi who was watching by scope from the Broad peak base camp. She told me that the summit was close. Breathing was difficult. I had climbed that last hump in one shot and until I get my breath again I can't move. The summit has to be that peak right in front of me.

Into the beautiful finale. The pure, white snow mount piercing into the indigo blue sky. I stand up, I start towards the summit. As if savoring the significance, I take the final steps. All thoughts have ceased, time has disappeared. Only by instinct to move higher, I climb. How can I express it? My footsteps, one by one are recorded into the untouched, pure snow mount. As if they are the only ties I have to the world beneath.

Tranquillity, what quiet, what a deep world, 29 July 1996, 4:20 p.m. enveloped by snow I stood on the highest point. Then, I kneeled down on top of the snow, savoring the meaning of having climbed K2.

Solo, aloneness. That is where all things become one.

Expedition details: Japanese FOS (Feel Our Soul) K2 Expedition 1996 - Climber - Masafumi Todaka (34); base camp manager. Yumi Todaka (27)

Route : K2 south face, no-oxygen, solo, alpine style.

Dates : 13 May 1996 - Entered Pakistan. 6 June arrived at base camp (5200 m). For purpose of acclimatisation and route verification climbed on the southeast ridge initially. 8 June - 4 July, climbed over 7000 m three times. On account of long term unstable weather, high winds and new snow on the upper parts, abandoned the south face attempt. Changed route to the Abruzzi southeast ridge. 11 July, first summit attempt. Abandoned attack at 7900 m due to bad weather. In this bad weather, C2 tent was blown away in high winds along with valuable surplus supplies. 20 July, second summit attempt. Abandoned attempt at C2 due to bad weather.

26 July, third summit attempt. Became tent - bound in C2. In the evening attempted to move to C3 but due to high winds gave up at 7200 m and returned to C2. 27 July, having recovered from the previous evening's fatigue, left camp at 2 p.m. Pitched a tent at 7100 m on a rock crag. 28 July, reached summit camp (7900 m). Same day in the afternoon four Italian climbers joined me in summit camp. 29 July 12.20 a.m. summit camp departure. 4.20 p.m. summit of K2. 30 July descent to base camp. 9 August returned to Japan.

SUMMARY

A solo ascent of K2 by the Japanese climber on 29 July 1996.

 

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