RUSHING UP BHAGIRATHI

YURI KOSHELENKO

THAT summer in Leilak valley was marked by a number of a brilliant ascents on the north wall of Ak-su. Friends and competitors met together in a big tent and remembered their ascents. The north face of Ak-su (5127 m) is a prime object for extreme technical ascents; it has a nice 1500 m vertical granite wall, that bounds to the left and right by a non attractive 1000 m buttresses, but ... this wall is climbed by Russian climbers so many times, it has so many routes, that some climbers in that tent had up to 10 such ascents.

Russian climbers were so long bounded behind the iron curtain of USSR, having possibilities to compete only with each other. The changes occurred only in beginning of 90s, but it concerned substantially high altitude ascents.

And somebody from that warm company said: "Bhagirathi'. Nevertheless on December, 1996 the conference of the Russian Mountaineering Federation took place. I met Alexander Odintsov and was invited to join the program that was first named "The Russian routes on the walls of the world". The word "Bhagirathi" grew. This mountain became the center, that formed the whole project. It started in Norway, on the Troll Wall, in 1997. The year 1998 was connected by our destiny with Bhagirathi.

The vanishing dream

This expedition seemed like the vanishing dream, in March, 1998, after my trauma on Petit-Dru. Doctors could not tell me when I would get better and I had determined my own deadline, middle of August, to start the Bhagirathi expedition. First time in my life I was able to prepare for the expedition for a whole 6 months. I didn't work, but only trained myself and rehabilitated myself due to some last years money savings. Some hurry resulted in some ashes in my spine. Nevertheless, on 14 August, I shouldered my 35-kg haulbag and departed to Moscow to join my friends and start our expedition.

All together

Our team met in Delhi on 17 August. There was 5 members from St. Petersburg — Alexander Odintsov, lgor Potankin, Vladimir Kachkov, Andrei Lukin, Ivan Samoilenko (our cameraman) and me, Yuri Koshelenko from Rostov-on-Don. It seems like monkeys take the place of cats in this country. The penetrating sweet fragrance spread along streets of the 'main Bazar' like a lilac puff of smoke. Rickshaw drivers clung on clothes by bolts sticking out from their vehicles, tradesmen gesticulated and — it was strange — some said Russian words.

Organising our expedition, we successfully combined with getting an impression about India. It is the country of a child's dreams and youth's intentions.

Haridvar — the doors of Ganga differs much from Delhi. It is a city of a tireless pilgrimage by thousands of Hindus. I was surprised by the openness, friendliness and smiles of those around us, there was sign of aggression towards foreigners.

We entered the Himalaya, stuffiness of the plains changed by the freshness of the middle mountains. The aspiration to see our mountain quickly went with a continuous holiday, and I wanted to elongate it. We hired porters in Uttarkashi and bought some food, and then continued on our way.

The first impression

The day was ending, clouds floated along the slopes, moistening the air with rain, and making an uncomfortable and dark atmosphere. We settled for the night in Bojbasa. There we met an American team with Pete Takeda and started a conversation, during that we discussed our plans with each other. Pete intended to make first ascent on Shark's Fin Meru. Suddenly in the heart of the talk the faces of my friends got an enthusiastic expression and their eyes looked toward the valley. Bhagirathi took a cover of mystery off, shining by the clean snow and amber brilliance of its walls. It opened for a welcome or, may be, it was some sign. My heart filled with respect for this beauty of Bhagirathi. Later, in evening, I came alone down to the river bank, and, considering Ganga as a living noble creature, asked her permission for our ascent.

Gaumukh

The birth place of Ganga, is covered with legends and revelation for any Hindu. It is by sight not more than a glacier's edge and the river, that flows out of it is without any mystery. But you need only to quieten your mind and let your looks flow with the river, and you are filled with a spontaneous quiet gladness and peace, power, sensitivity and goodness. But if you want to feel the sensations like this, you will have to stop, not run by.

The first week of September

27 August, the forward troops of our column reached BC at Nandanban. Rains put to this beautiful place a sad tint. But by 1 September, it seemed like the weather had improved, and we took this occasion for reconnaissance, photography and carry a part of our gear to the base of the wall, west circus of Bhagirathi III.

The wall seemed nearby. It charmed, frightened and gave birth to doubts. The upper part of the wall was named by us the "black schist tower", seemed especially terrible. The light and dark bands, elaborate labyrinths and pendulums. The most sorrowful circumstance was the route we planned hadn't any snow, therefore no water. There were some icicles on the roofs in the upper part of the "black tower" and some firn on ledges in the lower part of the wall — and nothing more.

The plan of this expedition was that two teams make two new routes, with a probability of some interaction on the summit ridge. The main route was planned on the center of the wall, between Catalan and Slovenian routes, information about which we drew from the "Annales of G. H. M.". The second route we would discover during our climb. The first team: Alexander Odintsov, Igor Potankin, Yuri Koshelenko; and the second one — Vladimir Kachkov, Andrei Lukin.

Ivan Samoilenko, according to our plan would be our high altitude cameraman, and shoot a film about both ascents. There was also possibility for him to join to any of the groups.

By 6 September, we had realised our possibilities. Kachkov-Lukin decided to make the route along the cracks to the left from "Impossible Star". Our route would start on the center of the wall; and may cross in its lower part with Slovenian route, because the relief in lower part of our route was not a key part. Then our route would lie along the left corner of the huge prominent buttress that we named "The paunch" and then continues upwards to the roof in a form of a "7", that we named "the Poker". This roof divides the wall into two parts: the right part, more dark and old, and the left, younger one, being during the changing. Then to the bound of the black schist tower and along this tower to the roofs "left and right eyes". Then we would planned go to the left, to the west ridge, where we planned to join with the second team and organise a joint descent. The plan was made. We started it realization.

The Element

7 September, the door in the sky had opened, and the snow fell down, confirming the fact that mountaineering depends strongly on the weather. During the rare pauses we tried to work on the routes, but the only result was as a rule a search for our gear, which was burried under an avalanche of snow at the foot of the wall. By the end of September, we had spaded several hundreds cubic meters of snow, but had done only a first short step of 2.5 pitches. We had our bold plan were breaking down like dominoes, the necessity to change was ripening them. Therefore, our joining with our second team seemed very natural. We decided to mobilise our efforts on the center of the wall and the mountain came to meet, but slightly, as if opening the door that may close any minute.

The winter ascent

The September was ending, the mountain changed strongly; some amount of a snow was added, so we didn't worry about water on the route. The lower and the right parts of the wall due to its relatively flat relief was covered with snow, but the center of the wall was not changed, only in some places were white spots visible.

27 September, Igor Potankin and I approached to the base of "the paunch", the place of relatively safe bivouac.

On 28 and 29 September, our two pairs started by turns; 29^th we started climbing along "the paunch", 30^th Alexander Odintsov and Ivan Samoilenko joined us. Alexander had some problems with his health and hesitated long until he decided to ascent. Ivan ascended to shoot film. That day it was snowing again, snow avalanches began to rustle and it was very much like some winter Caucasus ascent. We all froze at nights in spite of all the polartec and thinsulate. The snow dust penetrated everywhere, wetting the contents even in waterproof packages. We climbed along the left corner of "the paunch" on a huge, overhang to the left, inside corner, that covered us from the precipitation during the climbing. Potankin, Kachkov and I leaded by turns. The wall yielded us very heavily; an extremely dangerous free relief, an overhang destroyed roofs, hard frost and bad weather hindered from a quick ascent. In addition the psychological and physical tiredness that was accumulated during two and a half weeks of approach to the wall affected the climbing. Maybe there was the safe decision to give up, but we had persistence and trust in miracles and we kept on the battle. But mistakes were accumulating, Odintsov was worse, many times we should make moved our camp, but we were waiting for his decision.

Finally, on 4^th in the evening Alexander decided that he together with Ivan descent. Some ray of hope appeared. The last rope I fixed hung in the center of the wall, above "the paunch". From this pitch we could see the alluring way to the right sector of the wall, slightly sloping and rich in relief. Our route went on the desperate overhangs and each next pitch moved us several meters away from the vertical. But it had some positive: all the falling stones flew by behind the belayer; when the huge plate under the roof "the poker" started to move away from the wall, I solved the only problem: "how to avoid contact with it?".

The sections to "the paunch", dangerous unstable mix was free climbed for the most part, but in the central sections we used aid climbing, except some parts that we climbed free. The leader had not only to balance, but also had to analyse sensations in his quick freezing fingers, constrained with rock shoes.

The roof "the poker" although it was not huge, was "the raisin" of our route. I went out through the bend using very thin and short pitons and camalots (it was impossible to understand how it held). All the chain of aid anchors trembled threateningly. I experienced several exciting minutes, when the probability of my fall was extremely high. When I had descended in my portaledge I felt like the air due to happiness.

The pitches after "the poker" were relatively easy, but we were approaching the "black tower". We knew, that it was, in essence, the key part of the wall.

By 10 October, Igor and I had approached to the base of the aspide slates. We found three things here. Firstly the planned route to the left was dangerous and illogical, because it leaded us to the destroyed and protruding roofs, that seemed like the boxes of a cabinet. Secondly, to the right was visible the huge break in the tower, like the inner corner. It was the only logical exit from the wall. Thirdly, 200 meters to the right, on the black rocks of the foot of the tower we saw fixed ropes, that led to the southwest ridge. We decided that there ropes were related to the Sloven route and therefore were determined to climb to the break in the tower. Because then our route would not cross with Slovenian route.

That day Igor leaded and belaying him, I felt in full measure the overpowering and dark atmosphere of this black tower. He climbed on the breaking off holds, stopping periodically, taking off his rock shoes and waving his foot to heat it up. Even in the afternoon, when the sun appeared, the dark beauty of this place towered in my mind. The nervous effort was extremely high; every moment I was expecting a fall. It was redoubled due to absence of on trust the anchors. The rock consisted of layers like antagonists eating each other.

Next day, I got the pearl of this tower - the pitch leading to the break. I had choice. I had to climb through the roofs. I hammered in an horizontal piton and told Igor "Watch me". But, when I started loading the anchor, the roof started to segregate under the weight of my body. I returned to the previous point. The rock refused to hold the iron. Finally I approached stealthily using a sky hook and succeeded to set the bolt on relatively safe rock. The climbing further seemed harder. The long pitons I had stored up especially for this case were handy. Setting there pitons seemed like more the burying than hammering. The overhanging slates were covered with some white thin coating, maybe the product of some chemical reactions in my eyes which caused tears. I had climbed some time ago on the destroyed volcanic rocks Kukurtlu on Elbrus, but slates seemed as a monster there compared to those volcanic rocks.

This terrible pitch took five hours, but it was the last technical puzzle on this wall. Although the break we climbed consisted of the same rocks as below, only slightly sprinkled with snow, it wasn't overhanging. On 13 October, we reached the edge of the wall.

The summit

On 14 October, 4.5 hour it took for the ascent from our last camp-V, Igor and I were below the white dome of the summit, waiting for our second pair. All these days, weeks, months this was the main place of our lifes, the center of our dreams and aspirations. We had reached it, all we need now was to wait till the boys would step up and then to make several steps upwards together. Upwards to meet the sky and then the way down.

The wind of the summit rushed in our lungs, magic pictures of the skies pierced our eyes. The clouds like the sky army were approaching us with imponderable steps from behind Shivling and Kedarnath. We read the word "storm", stretched along the horizon. The pressure of the storm forced its way through each rush of the wind. In spite of the beauty of the summit, we had to descent. There is no good ascent without a good descent.

The hard return

On 15^th October, we started our descent from the last Camp-V. The majority of us preferred the descent by the way of ascent. Now we had to realise this, may be it was not the best plan. Our tactics were as follows: I descend first, then complete, if needed, a belay station, wait for Vladimir and Andrey, and then Igor would bring up the rear. It was snowing from the night and the tireless wind blasted like a spiral gust into the bowl of the wall. During the ascent we kept several ropes in most difficult sections for descent, but it didn't solve all our problems. The wall overhaung strongly and in some places I used my hammer as a grapnel to reach the belay station. It was snowing heavily in the afternoon, the snow painted all around in its dull-white colour. Numerous slanting rappels exhausted us, the nervous effort rose. In there conditions I made the decision to spent the night at the place of our Camp-II. The storm became stronger, but we were able sleep a few hours and relax.

16 October, we had to descend the much dangerous section, the lower part of the wall. There was a blizzard accompanied by ground wind and the visibility was about zero. The wailing of the wind dampened all the sounds and the only method of perception was the sense of touch. Three jerks of the rope — "the way is open". Reeled ropes turned into snow-ice briquette, armored with kapron. Waiting for my friends on the belay stations, I counted up to ten snow avalanches. We had luck as none of the avalanches brought to us some present like a stone or ice block. When we reached the place that was before the bergsrund, we found ourselves in the most dangerous situation. We had to descent along the 400-meter length steep snow slope, practically without any belay. The small snow avalanches were not so terrible, but we knew that there could be big ones. We had to spend our three residuary ropes rationally. It was made complicated also by our haulbags and by our assembled portaledges and because we had only one ice-axe. Using this ice-axe, we had descended to the place where we were able to reach the ice. We joined our ropes and dropped it down, first fixed it to the ice-screw. I and Vladimir took the haulbag and, kicking it, glided down along the slope. We were near the end of the ropes and ready to unfasten when a big avalanche caught us. It dragged and pressed us stronger and stronger, stretching the joined ropes like a guitar string, flowing into us like a small-grained cold and giving birth to a burst of uncontrolled emotions like helplessness and fear. Fortunately, it lasted for several seconds, but we didn't have to rely on the same mercy in the future. We had to get out to a safe place. We dropped our haulbags again down along the slope and started descending "like the rolling haulbags". When we reached the foot of the slope, I stopped, waited for Andrei and Igor while Vladimir dragged the haulbags to ABC. In an hour, after floundering between the stones of a big moraine, our team reached a small yellow tent that was heaped with snow up to its gable.

We congratulated each other on the victory and didn't know that, in a sense, we were in a hurry.

17 October, we had to descent to BC, the ordinary time was about hour and a half. "Why have breakfast? By that time we'll have reached the BC", said someone. In the meantime the construction of our tent was cracking under the pressure from the wind. We took a bite from a reserve that was left behind and moved forward into the snowstorm. We were hardly finding the right way, swimming across banks of fresh snow. We were tormented by wind and cold. It seemed like there was no patience. When will this ascent end?! The mountain held us with a death grip. Any step was like a trap. The most hard place was a ridge of moraine. The fury of the wind reached its apogee. Stepping forward, one could fly up, and in the next moment roll down along the steep slope. The hurricane enlarged the space and compressed the time. We found ourselves in the face of the next soon problem: the huge field and slopes of fresh deep snow. The usual method on our foot was inapplicable and we used the only other method — swimming, rowing, rolling and slipping.

What time is it now?, I said 2 p.m. It seems like we'll not reach until evening, I answered Andrey. Let's drop our rucksacks, said he, I won't drop mine. I have in it two sleeping bags, karimat and flash-light, I replied. The snow was up to the waist, then more. And Vladimir went down on all fours and crawled. It became the only way forward. And we began moving exactly so, by turns, diving between the stones, like a Tibetan pilgrims. It was a fair play: the holy mountain, the holy place. Bhagirathi had tested us up to the end. The twilight was approaching, the snowstorm and the darkness made the surrounding landscape practically, unrecognizable. How long is the way down? The big and middle moraine began. It is near the meadow Nandanban, five minutes in normal conditions. The light from our flash-light is rushing about a snow holes. "Let's stop and spend the night", said a voice in front of me. "Let's take some rest and move further", I grumble Igor. To the left in the dim light of our flash-light appeared a stone heap - control point, practically fully covered with snow. We were in direct view from the BC. But how could we find it in such a huge area? We could walk all night and not find our camp. And suddenly from far away, like from a whale's belly, appeared a light. The light of the pure star. The light of our friends, waiting for us. This usual flash-light became for us the symbol of victory, symbol of the final chord in the play of ascending this mountain, the supreme award and deliverance.

SUMMERY

An expedition to Bhagirathi III in 1998 by a Russian team. The team made a winter attempt and had to return from very near the summit because of deteriorating weather.

 

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