APPEASING THE YELLOW GODDESS

CDR SATYABRATA DAM

I had long nurtured the dream of attempting Saser Kangri I through the 'impossible' west ridge. Much later when I read Brig Khullar's book that described their successful expedition through the 'impossible' route, it fuelled my imagination further. As our pre-Everest exercise, we wanted to go for Nanda Devi during autumn 2003 but again the Uttaranchal State decided otherwise with the Chief Conservator's office assuring us that the Nanda Devi sanctuary was now closed for good to any further expeditions, irrespective of it being a defense or civilian expedition. Thankfully this time they informed us well in time.

As pre-Everest plan B, I had jotted down Saser Kangri I (7672 m) through the west face in my diary. Suddenly it became a reality and my office in Delhi burst into action. We collected expedition reports, which were scanty, maps, called up everyone we could who had ever been on Saser Kangri western approach, and I started digesting Brig Khullar's book, A Mountain of Happiness in right earnest. I got the Indian Navy team a week earlier than scheduled at Delhi and started the physical conditioning. Saser Kangri from the west was a challenge and we were excited beyond imagination. What prompted our adrenalin was the fact that no one had succeeded in reaching the summit of Saser Kangri I from west except the one in 1987 led by Brig Khullar, which comprised of some of the finest Indian and British climbers of all times. They numbered more than 50 and carried nearly 30,000 kgs of load. We had a team of eight, of which two were on their virgin expedition and a team of 6 climbing Sherpas. We carried around 1500 kgs of load and we had a short window to climb. Beginning end August our timing was also bit late for climbing in east Karakoram as the winter sets in early. Many people had lost their limbs and life on Saser before us. An entire team of Border Security Force was wiped off on the west face in 1995. The mountain had a notorious record of massive avalanches, rock falls, crevasses from the west. Few expeditions had attempted the route and none had managed to repeat it. I interacted with Col Ashok Abbey, the leader of the successful Indian Army expedition to Everest and Lhotse and the present Principal of Nehru Institute of Mountaineering, who was a young Captain on the 1987 expedition. He gave invaluable suggestions about the mountain and the hazards involved. He repeatedly told me to be extremely cautious about cold injuries and avalanches.

Photos 49 to 54

Ridge leading to Saser Kangri I from peak IV.

Article 12 (Cdr. S. Dam)
49. Ridge leading to Saser Kangri I from peak IV.

Climbing rock band before Camp 2 on Saser Kangri IV.

Article 12 (Cdr. S. Dam)
50. Climbing rock band before Camp 2 on Saser Kangri IV.

On west ridge of Saser Kangri IV.

Article 12 (Cdr. S. Dam)
51. On west ridge of Saser Kangri IV.

Saser peaks from camp on South Phukpoche glacier.

Article 12 (Cdr. S. Dam)
52. Saser peaks from camp on South Phukpoche glacier.

On west ridge of Saser Kangri IV.

Article 12 (Cdr. S. Dam)
53. On west ridge of Saser Kangri IV.

Summit of Saser Kangri IV, with Plateau Peak in background.

Article 12 (Cdr. S. Dam)
54. Summit of Saser Kangri IV, with Plateau Peak in background.

We landed at Leh on 26 August. Over the next three days we did short walks and sightseeing trips to gain height gradually and acclimatise. We finally reached and set up our roadhead camp at Panamik on 30 August right beneath a huge rock face. The trail ahead was bare and rocky. On 31 August we started our route opening to base camp and first load ferry. The boulder-strewn trail from Panamik zigzagged up through the brown landscape. Soon we reached the place where the trail narrowed further and met with the Phukpoche Lungpa and turned due north. At several places we had to fix ropes as the landslides looked rather treacherous and the ferociously flowing Lungpa to our left did not look a welcome sight. At around 4000 m we came across two huge rock faces that had narrow path at the base and further a very slippery face going down into the Lungpa. We fixed this patch and crossed this part in a single line. But towards the end one of the porters slipped and was grabbed in time by another, though he dropped his load and we lost precious articles of shelter. The trail gained height gradually and about 6 hrs later we walked into the grassy base camp site at 4750 m. A conspicuous stone temple marked the place well. It overlooked the confluence of North and South Phukpoche glacier. We dumped our loads and returned even as the sky darkened and the wind picked up its strength.

We established and occupied base camp on 4 September through a heavy hailstorm that continued all day. The wind was also strong and the place was freezing cold. Our route opening to ABC commenced on 5 September. Walking straight down to the stream ahead we climbed onto the central moraine of South Phukpoche glacier and followed the cairns left by previous expeditions, atop the moraine ridge. As we advanced, gradually the Plateau Peak, a virgin peak of 7310 m, opened its magnificent flanks. Around 5100 m we rounded the glacier and saw the Saser massif in its immense entirety. It was a memorable but sobering sight as we never again saw it so clearly against a blue sky. The shimmering west face and the dreaded west ridge loomed menacingly. This was not a mountain to be trifled with. After gaining another 200 m we left the moraine ridge and stepped onto the flat glacier basin amidst rocks and placed our advance base at 5360 m, we could cover the distance from BC to ABC in less than 3 hrs. No sooner had we occupied ABC on the 8th, immediately a blizzard hit us. Murphy's Law: If anything can go wrong, it will works quite well in the mountains. Right ahead, facing northeast we could see along the extent of the glacier all the way to the base of the west ridge and the trail did not appear too difficult or hazardous. The sky dropped snow all through the night and the temperature plunged well below zero.

Summit of Saser Kangri IV, with Plateau Peak in background.

The white dawn next morning ushered in a bleak landscape totally draped in snow and clouds. We could only see the lower flanks of the west ridge and the icefall and everything above was completely shrouded. A heavy blizzard added to our dismay. But we went ahead regardless. I had also overlooked the basic fact that snow and glaciers look totally deceptive under failing light conditions. Very soon we stepped into an amazing field of crevasses that was as complex as any I had seen. Our route marking flags came in handy as we kept putting them at short distances and plunged in and out of gigantic crevasses in search of a safe passage through the glacier. Intermittently the glacier shook as thundering avalanches roared down the Plateau Peak and Saser west face. We soon realized the reason for Plateau Peak to remain a virgin till date. The west approach to the peak was so unstable and hazardous that it would be insane, even for a mountaineer, to attempt it. No one could reach even half way up that face on Plateau Peak (7310 m). Meanwhile we floundered through the zero visibility and the raging blizzard. The mean glacier gradient was not steep so the height gain was not so apparent but the tumbling ice seracs and the gaping crevasses made all the difference. The surrounding rock ridges to our west dropped big boulders that fell and cracked loudly on reaching the moraines. As we inched nearer to the bottom of the west ridge, from where we would climb sharply, the crevasses and the icefall gained in proportion. The jumble of ice looked from another world. We could barely walk straight for few metres, as we had to weave through the crevasses using snow bridges as wide as the width of our shoes. We always crossed one man at a time with careful belays. We resorted to step cutting at many places. As the day progressed so did the blizzard and the snow chips caked our clothes and face and any part of our exposed skin felt the fury to its fullest extent. Eventually we reached a thin platform at around 5800 m, surrounded by crevasses all around, and dumped loads for the day and beat a hasty retreat. Plateau Peak kept its bombing all through the night as snow and blizzards continued unabated and the temperature registered around 14 degrees below zero. Over the next two days we continued load ferry through the weather. Finally on 12 September we occupied C1 at 5880 m, after shifting it up from the earlier dump point, at almost the same place where the 1987 team had their camp. C1 was located on a big ice shelf or cwm girdled by the Saser and Plateau Peak massif ridge to our north and circling to northeast. Apparently, we were safe from the avalanches. Soon I would be proved wrong.

On 13 September we left early with moderate loads for route opening on west ridge. The icefield gained height gradually for about 100 m and lead to the ice wall that climbed steeply to meet the west ridge. The ice wall had an initial gradient of about 40 degrees. We dug in a ledge at the bottom and kept extra equipment etc, then started up the wall under the overcast sky. We intended to fix the wall since it would ease the subsequent load ferries. As we climbed higher, with me jumaring up at the rear, the wall grew steeper with every pitch. Soon the inevitable snow started falling like cotton wool. Only the lower half of the Saser west face was visible, as the rest remained shrouded in thick clouds. About 10 pitches later we sighted old ropes further to our left, close to the rocky outcrops from the west ridge. By now we were mostly on our toes as the gradient was around 60 degrees. We fixed 13 ropes, reaching just below a flat rock face on west ridge and returned to C1. By now we were so used to the avalanches that no one stirred even if a large one broke off with a loud clap. A little after 4 p.m., as I was enjoying a steaming cup of tea with one of the Sherpas, while everyone else rested inside the tents, in front of my eyes almost the entire west face of Plateau Peak broke off and fell in a slow motion towards the glacier. I was struck by the sheer spectacle as I watched the mammoth body of snow and ice; fall almost in a slow motion, describing a parabola. I followed its path right till the bottom where it disappeared momentarily into a depression. And then it rose like a huge tsunami multiplied in its ferocity many times over, covering the entire glacier and headed right for us. I had no idea what the strength of this avalanche was, but I knew it was large enough to bury us all and there was just no place for us to run or hide, neither the time even if we had a refuge. The thunderclap that resounded from the mountain faces reverberated like hundred roaring jets. In few seconds the avalanche would go over us. We had brand new MH and Bibler tents, specially reinforced for heavy winds and avalanches.

The immense body of snow thundered over us for what seemed eternity, bending the tent poles almost to the ground. Huge chunks of ice pounded us incessantly from all sides. I expected the tents to be torn into shreds any moment. The avalanche passed over us in less than three minutes, leaving a scene of devastation behind. We emerged from our tents, everyone unscathed, and dug out the tents and our equipment dumps. No one showed any sign of stress or fear, proving once more that mountaineers were a bit stupid.

On 14 September a half of the team at C1 went up for further route opening. Another load ferry took place from ABC to C1 by the rear team. From C1 the entire west ridge including the rock band could be observed. Around two hours later we saw the team at the yesterday's high point. Soon they reached the ridge and as I could imagine, were exposed to the windblast from the other side. They returned after having reached around 6600 m, about two pitches short of the rock band. Rajkumar confirmed that the ridge was indeed an unpleasant place to be as the cross wind, blowing all the way from the Siachen catches the exposed climber. Next day only 3 Sherpas and I went up for a load ferry till the previous high point. The others rested at C1 and the rear team came up to C1 from ABC. The weather worsened as we climbed higher. We jumared up the ropes after digging them out of the thick layer of snow and the entire trail had to be stamped again. The moment we crested onto the ridge the wind almost uprooted us. Thankfully, all of us were clipped securely on to the fixed rope. It was sheer madness to try and go further. I was wet inside, intensely cold and exhausted. Finally we reached the dump point and returned hastily to the warmth of C1.

On the 16th Amit, my deputy, lead the team to open the route on the rock band that would be the most hazardous and technically difficult part of the climb. They left around 4 in the morning amidst a freezing gale. They returned after 12 hrs, having fixed 4 ropes from the previous high point. The route had been very tough and technically difficult. The rock band was aligned at an average gradient of 70 degrees, with severe mixed climbing grades. As we discussed the route, I realised we would take few days and all our energies to crack the rock band, before we could place our C2. The height gain from C1 to C2 was more than thousand metres and would be the crux of the expedition, as I predicted then. Once again, I would be proved wrong. Next day another group of climbers and Sherpas left around 3 a.m. to take up the task from where it was left. By the end of a very hard day, they managed to fix another 4 lengths and open the route till about 6900 m. On 18 September we finally negotiated the west ridge and crested atop the snowfield. At C1 the team was divided into two, with one team going up first and opening the route to the Col between Saser IV and Saser I, while the other would support by ferrying load and equipment. I knew we had to work fast since the weather continued to be bad and we had to minimise our exposure above 7000 m, where our C2 was placed.

On 20 September, Amit, Bhanoo, Rajkumar, Sange, Nima, Urgen, Tashi and I left for C2. The day was the clearest so far in the expedition and we enjoyed breathtaking views all around. The summit of Saser Kangri I looked deceptively close and poised elegantly above us. As we climbed on the west ridge, the entire length of South Phukpoche glacier fell from us, snaking its way like a white road. The orange tents of C1 glistened against the white background. The peaks of the Siachen and east Karakoram rose from the west with their conical summits reaching for the sky. The rock band was a total jumble of tumbling rocks, hard blue ice, sharp pinnacles, loose rock slabs, shifting snow, in short the works that compose a climber's worst nightmare. On reaching C2 at 7000 m, two of us went up further to see the route to the col, while others pitched the tents and prepared the camp for our stay. Tashi went back to C1. The col and the ridge connecting Saser IV to Saser I was hidden by the ridge that rose sharply over C2 and therefore the most dreaded part of the route to Saser I remained invisible. Though Saser I looked very close due to the fore shortening, most of its ridge remained hidden. From C2 we observed a huge crevasse cutting across width-wise on our route. As we had noticed earlier from C1 that there wasn't any possibility of our going under the face above C2 and approach the col from beneath the snow mushroom a little to the right since that entire face was a severe overhang and could collapse at any moment. I recalled the words from Brig Khullar's book that described the ridge and the climb above C2. Surprisingly the book had made no mention of any crevasse beyond C2. We had a very complex task ahead of us and the weather had worsened again. Our recce on the 21st revealed what I dreaded.

On climbing above the crevasse immediately above C2 we discovered a complex maze of crevasses and broken seracs scattered right on our path to the col. As we surveyed it, I realised the reason why everyone had failed before us to repeat the 1987 route to Saser Kangri I. It would take a very long time and a huge quantity of ropes, snow stakes, screws, etc to make a passage through the crevasse field, which was apparently not there in 1987. We opened the route as far as we could and managed to reach beyond the col till about 7300 m. The ridge ahead of us was totally corniced to the north and had a sheer ice wall of 90 degrees. The snow was too soft for any practical purpose. We sank to our waist and had no way of knowing if we stood on firm ground or on empty air that would collapse with our next step hurtling us to our death thousands of feet below. It was a most unnerving experience to say the least. The weather showed no signs of letting up. Everything conspired against us. The temperature remained at an average of minus 20 during the day, plunging to minus 30 during the night. While we were contemplating about Saser I, the round summit of Saser IV looked tantalisingly close and a safe proposition. By sunset, I had made the decision of attempting Saser IV first and go for Saser I if we felt physically up to it and the weather improved.

Starting at around 5 a.m. on the 22nd, Amit, Bhanoo, Rajkumar and Sange Sherpa summitted Saser IV at 9 a.m. While they were climbing, and I was alone with Urgen at C2, I learnt the news of a major accident over the radio, on Pancha Chuli that had killed 9 members and Sherpas the same morning. Three of our Sherpas lost their relatives in the accident, including Urgen who lost his elder brother. It was an Indo Tibetan Border Police expedition. We had to immediately send three Sherpas back home to Darjeeling and this was a severe blow to our own expedition. I knew now for sure that our fate on Saser I was sealed and I would have to return another day to climb that last 350 m to the elusive summit. The summiteers, along with Urgen descended to C1 and I was left all alone at C2 as I wanted to go up for Saser IV with the second team that would occupy C2 on the 23rd. Around 1 p.m., my trusted Sherpa pair of Samgyal and Pema Norbu came up to keep me company.

Around sunset on the 22nd, when Samgyal served me some hot soup, I realised that the altitude, the cold, the exposure had exhausted me and another night at C2 did not seem very welcome, so I decided to go for Saser IV the same night or early morning with one of the Sherpas and descend to C1 on the 23rd. Samgyal suffered from headaches, so I left with Pema a little after midnight and crunched my way up the trail that the first team had left. The climb was objectively easy but the cold and the wind made it very unpleasant. Around 4 a.m., just a little below the summit, the first red streaks scattered across the black sky and the neighbouring summits suddenly appeared as red dots on the horizon all around. It was far too supernal and amazing a sight for me to describe in words. We just stopped and stared, all our agonies forgotten for the moment. We hurried our pace and summitted Saser IV a little after 5 a.m., just as the orange disc of our mighty neighbour broke the eastern horizon over Tibet. Finally we had no more to go and we collapsed on the snow, next to the prayer flags that the earlier team had put on top. Soon we got up and I decided very foolishly to once again go to the col and have a close look at the ridge beyond. Perhaps my mind refused to accept that Saser I was now beyond our reach.

We went down directly from Saser IV summit to the Col and found that this path had far less number of crevasses than the one we had opened from C2 to the Col. Once again we reached our high point where we had dumped a whole cache of new ropes, stakes, ice screws, carabiners, and other technical gear. But I realised again that the odds were totally against us. I paid my obeisance to the mighty mountain gods and retraced my path back to C2. The second team had already started their climb for C2. Samgyal, Pema and I abseiled down, crossing the second team, lead by Balaji on their way up. They all were fit and raring to go for Saser IV. I wished them luck and finally reached C1 with a sigh of relief. I was quite certain that the second team would reach Saser IV easily and we all would reassemble at C1 on by 24th noon. Once again, by now I had become used to it, I was proven wrong. Soon after we descended to C1, the weather worsened further. It was complete white out. I could not see the fingertips of my outstretched hands. I knew that finally the weather had closed for good and would remain so for a long time and it was time for us to depart. This time I was proven right.

But our immediate concern was to get the team down from C2. We had to get them down with the first light. Descending at night was out of question. I radioed Balaji and told him to pack up everything and start descending at the earliest. He sounded little disappointed as he confirmed that it was sheer madness up at C2. It was a grave situation. They had a long way to descend through the rock band and the exposed west ridge and if the weather continued as it was then we had some real perils ahead of us. At C1 we barely slept, looking out for the slightest signs of improvement in the weather. Nothing altered, but with the first light the place looked a little less gloomy. The upper team began their desperate ordeal to stay alive and descend to safety. There was nothing we or anyone else could do for them. It was a classical case of every man to himself on mountains. Though it was futile, we trained our binoculars at the white wall of snow, beyond which we knew lay the west ridge. Balaji came in once to report that they had reached the rock band and the conditions were horrible . They had to literally grope and find the ropes and the anchors by feeling of touch as they were more or less blinded by the furious blizzard. The rocks were slippery as oil and powder avalanches constantly barraged them in waves after wave.

As soon they cleared the rock band and started down the west ridge, I left with a Sherpa for ABC to open the route through the glacier that had now become totally different. All the others stayed behind to render assistance to the descending team and to wind up C1 completely. At any cost, everyone had to reach ABC by the 24th evening. The weather was far too bad to prolong our stay at C1 even by another day. Eventually everyone reached ABC around 3.30 p.m. and we celebrated the reunion and the ascent. Our tents flapped helplessly in the tempest. The prayer flags we had placed atop our ABC shrine had already shred into tatters. We returned to base camp on the 25th, literally driven by the snow and wind. Two days later we were back at Panamik and had a grand campfire with dancing and rejoicing in true Sherpa style, to which our team members had gained mastery by now.

On 30th early morning when the Indian Air Force aircraft, which carried us, took off from Leh, the commander of the aircraft invited me into the cockpit. As the aircraft careened over the lofty Karakoram mountains before making a U turn for Chandigarh, I caught a brief glimpse of Saser Kangri I, glowing under the morning sun, like an isolated star amidst the clouds, and almost by reflex I gave a crisp salute, before taking my place behind the pilot.

SUMMARY

The Indian Navy attempted Saser Kangri I (7672 m) through the west ridge during Aug - Sep 03. The team climbed Saser Kangri IV (7415 m) but failed on Saser I. The team comprised of Cdr S Dam (leader), Lt A Pande (Dy leader), Lt Cdr A Kankan, Lt Prabhakar, Surg Lt V Bhanoo, MCERA Rajkumar, RPO Kanna, LMA Rakesh Kumar, Sherpas Sange Puri, Ang Tashi, Nim Dorje, Dawa, Urgen, Pema Norbu. Saser IV was climbed on 22nd and 23rd September 03.

 

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