I had just finished taking out the eight pegs holding the outer of our two-man tent in place and was waiting for Daria to clear the tent. The combination of wind and snowfall was fairly uncomfortable at 730 in the morning. It had been snowing continuously for the past 12 hours. I had expected Daria to be done with her gaiters by the time I finished shoveling away snow from each of the tent sides and taking off the pegs, so that the unhappy task of packing the tent could be done quickly. Instead, Daria was so weak that she was barely done with one gaiter. I had no choice but to endure a short shivering wait outside as she finished.
Daria and I arrived at the little colony of Bharatpur the day before to attempt the moderately challenging peak, Mt. Yunam. We had ascended to an altitude of somewhere around 5200 meters the next day all ready for spending the night there and going for the summit the next morning. Given my climbing history during the past month, I was fairly confident about my acclimatization. Daria had not been higher than 4200 meters in this season, but her fine health in Bharatpur (~ 4600 m) made me think highly of how her physiology reacted to altitude.
We had arrived at our intended campsite after a three hour walk from Bharatpur. Throughout the day, our bodies seemed tuned to the altitude. The weather was implacable though; cloudy skies gave way to heavy fog and snowfall later in the day. We resolved to wake up at 2 in the morning to take a look at the weather and go for the top if possible.
It started around 10 in the night : Daria couldn't sleep; her cough made it impossible. Her temples throbbed with pain as the altitude finally struck her a blow. Her rasping breath left me in doubt that her lungs were getting filled with fluid, a strong sign of Pulmonary Edema. With the weather as it were, it was anyways impossible to make a bid for the summit. We managed a couple hours of sleep till Daria woke me up at 7 in the morning to tell me that she had had enough. We just had to go down now. She could take it no more. Even walking 5 steps made her breathless.
Daria finished her gaiters and came outside. As I worked around the tent taking it apart step by step, it hit me how bad Daria's condition was. She huddled on the mat spread on the snow next to our backpacks, unable to help me in any manner except in the smallest tasks like handing me the peg cover. That was when some of my initial optimism started to dissipate. I ended up tearing the outer of my tent with my shovel and also my tent cover trying to hurry around.
We started walking with each of us carrying our backpacks. I had tried to minimize Daria's load; hers only had her sleeping bag, clothes and personal gear. Mine had the food, fuel, tent and common gear. The sleeping mats we rolled up together and I carried them in my hand. However, the moment we started, Daria took two quick stops to catch her breath with just five steps separating them. That too, she would bend down at her waist as one does after running a sprint. Clearly, the load arrangement was wrong. So I took her backpack from her and decided to carry it on my front. Daria would only carry her ice axe and the mat roll.
Despite the lack of weight, Daria felt incapacitated during the initial ten minutes of the walk. At one point, she sat down and cried out that she couldn't do it. Daria's a hardcore girl, and didn't really require more than a few words of encouragement to understand the situation and be prepared to endure.
We had to plunge down a couple of otherwise easy snow slopes which were now covered with a foot deep snow layer. I started down first with my awkward load with Daria close behind. Multiple short rests happened during this section where Daria would put the mat roll on the slope, sit on it and allow the huffy-puffiiness to settle down. I think we probably took around a half an hour to get down these snow slopes. We settled on a rock cleared of snow and rested for a while. Daria expressed her anguish at her low energy levels and how she had never felt so exhausted in her entire life. She was coughing up sputum with traces of blood in it. Meanwhile, the weather did nothing to encourage us. The snowfall just wouldn't stop.
The next part of the walk was quite intimidating. A long scree slope down to the stream below beckoned. While this by itself was not bad, the problem was the layer of snow which now covered the slope. A misstep could possibly mean shattered bones or a trapped leg. On top of it, with a pack hanging on my chest, my vision was also compromised. My partner was so weak. Snow flew around us. It was a thoroughly depressing situation.
As we were about to begin, Daria suggested that we leave one or both of the bags behind. While this would alleviate my troubles to some extent, I'd have to come up the same evening or the next day to retrieve the bag(s). This made me look at the idea with some aversion and I rejected it until the time when walking with both packs would become unbearable.
I started the walk on this section with much apprehension. I slipped multiple times. Daria too. Each time Daria would fall, it seemed that the fall also damaged her already fragile enthusiasm. She would repeatedly argue after every seemingly bad fall of mine, that I leave at least one of the packs behind. But, we carried on. Her strength seemed to return as we got lower with her joking that now she didn't stop before forty steps and she was planning to increase the gap to fifty steps soon.
As we reached the stream, I started to feel much more positive. Bharatpur was just a flat walk along the stream away. We were near water too. The difficult sections were over. We walked for some distance downstream and crossed the stream; this itself proved to be a moderately painful experience for me, having to cross more than once to ferry all the load across.
We reached Bharatpur some minutes later where I expected Daria would be much better off. She wasn't. She barely ate over the next two days, managing just a couple eggs. For the most part of the day, she would lie down and try to sleep. The night gave her no respite. She coughed through most of the night, managing only some sleep in phases. I confess I did not think on the day we got down to Bharatpur, that we should head lower still right away. But even if that had to be done, it would have been near impossible with Baralacha remaining closed due to snowfall and roadblocks.
During the time we were gone, the old owners of the tent shelter we had stayed at in Bharatpur had gotten worried about our state. Uncle said had we not arrived the same day, he would have gone down to Sarchu to report to the police that we had gone missing on the mountain in serious bad weather. The young lad who worked there had tried to view and help us with his torchlight late the previous night, in case we had forgotten the way down. Biru bhai, the go-to guy for climbers in Bharatpur, said we were asses to head up the mountain and sleep there.
The trip finished with a fairly uncomfortable 18 hour ride in the cabin of a truck to Manali. It would be three days before Daria got anywhere near to the point where she could be said to be healthy.
Daria and I arrived at the little colony of Bharatpur the day before to attempt the moderately challenging peak, Mt. Yunam. We had ascended to an altitude of somewhere around 5200 meters the next day all ready for spending the night there and going for the summit the next morning. Given my climbing history during the past month, I was fairly confident about my acclimatization. Daria had not been higher than 4200 meters in this season, but her fine health in Bharatpur (~ 4600 m) made me think highly of how her physiology reacted to altitude.
We had arrived at our intended campsite after a three hour walk from Bharatpur. Throughout the day, our bodies seemed tuned to the altitude. The weather was implacable though; cloudy skies gave way to heavy fog and snowfall later in the day. We resolved to wake up at 2 in the morning to take a look at the weather and go for the top if possible.
It started around 10 in the night : Daria couldn't sleep; her cough made it impossible. Her temples throbbed with pain as the altitude finally struck her a blow. Her rasping breath left me in doubt that her lungs were getting filled with fluid, a strong sign of Pulmonary Edema. With the weather as it were, it was anyways impossible to make a bid for the summit. We managed a couple hours of sleep till Daria woke me up at 7 in the morning to tell me that she had had enough. We just had to go down now. She could take it no more. Even walking 5 steps made her breathless.
Daria finished her gaiters and came outside. As I worked around the tent taking it apart step by step, it hit me how bad Daria's condition was. She huddled on the mat spread on the snow next to our backpacks, unable to help me in any manner except in the smallest tasks like handing me the peg cover. That was when some of my initial optimism started to dissipate. I ended up tearing the outer of my tent with my shovel and also my tent cover trying to hurry around.
We started walking with each of us carrying our backpacks. I had tried to minimize Daria's load; hers only had her sleeping bag, clothes and personal gear. Mine had the food, fuel, tent and common gear. The sleeping mats we rolled up together and I carried them in my hand. However, the moment we started, Daria took two quick stops to catch her breath with just five steps separating them. That too, she would bend down at her waist as one does after running a sprint. Clearly, the load arrangement was wrong. So I took her backpack from her and decided to carry it on my front. Daria would only carry her ice axe and the mat roll.
Despite the lack of weight, Daria felt incapacitated during the initial ten minutes of the walk. At one point, she sat down and cried out that she couldn't do it. Daria's a hardcore girl, and didn't really require more than a few words of encouragement to understand the situation and be prepared to endure.
We had to plunge down a couple of otherwise easy snow slopes which were now covered with a foot deep snow layer. I started down first with my awkward load with Daria close behind. Multiple short rests happened during this section where Daria would put the mat roll on the slope, sit on it and allow the huffy-puffiiness to settle down. I think we probably took around a half an hour to get down these snow slopes. We settled on a rock cleared of snow and rested for a while. Daria expressed her anguish at her low energy levels and how she had never felt so exhausted in her entire life. She was coughing up sputum with traces of blood in it. Meanwhile, the weather did nothing to encourage us. The snowfall just wouldn't stop.
The next part of the walk was quite intimidating. A long scree slope down to the stream below beckoned. While this by itself was not bad, the problem was the layer of snow which now covered the slope. A misstep could possibly mean shattered bones or a trapped leg. On top of it, with a pack hanging on my chest, my vision was also compromised. My partner was so weak. Snow flew around us. It was a thoroughly depressing situation.
As we were about to begin, Daria suggested that we leave one or both of the bags behind. While this would alleviate my troubles to some extent, I'd have to come up the same evening or the next day to retrieve the bag(s). This made me look at the idea with some aversion and I rejected it until the time when walking with both packs would become unbearable.
I started the walk on this section with much apprehension. I slipped multiple times. Daria too. Each time Daria would fall, it seemed that the fall also damaged her already fragile enthusiasm. She would repeatedly argue after every seemingly bad fall of mine, that I leave at least one of the packs behind. But, we carried on. Her strength seemed to return as we got lower with her joking that now she didn't stop before forty steps and she was planning to increase the gap to fifty steps soon.
As we reached the stream, I started to feel much more positive. Bharatpur was just a flat walk along the stream away. We were near water too. The difficult sections were over. We walked for some distance downstream and crossed the stream; this itself proved to be a moderately painful experience for me, having to cross more than once to ferry all the load across.
We reached Bharatpur some minutes later where I expected Daria would be much better off. She wasn't. She barely ate over the next two days, managing just a couple eggs. For the most part of the day, she would lie down and try to sleep. The night gave her no respite. She coughed through most of the night, managing only some sleep in phases. I confess I did not think on the day we got down to Bharatpur, that we should head lower still right away. But even if that had to be done, it would have been near impossible with Baralacha remaining closed due to snowfall and roadblocks.
During the time we were gone, the old owners of the tent shelter we had stayed at in Bharatpur had gotten worried about our state. Uncle said had we not arrived the same day, he would have gone down to Sarchu to report to the police that we had gone missing on the mountain in serious bad weather. The young lad who worked there had tried to view and help us with his torchlight late the previous night, in case we had forgotten the way down. Biru bhai, the go-to guy for climbers in Bharatpur, said we were asses to head up the mountain and sleep there.
The trip finished with a fairly uncomfortable 18 hour ride in the cabin of a truck to Manali. It would be three days before Daria got anywhere near to the point where she could be said to be healthy.
This seems uncharacteristically reckless of you !
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