The Yunam Descent

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.

Friendship Peak Climb

As spring turned to summer and skiing plans to climbing plans, I found myself part of a delightful bunch of people aiming for the summit of Friendship Peak. This colorful bunch of guys had only one hill-man in the name of Happy in it; so named, because of his infectious laugh and general demeanor. Honey worked in the Merchant Navy before taking some time out to live in Manali and learn paragliding. Zeph, from Mumbai had quiet a reputation in our group for researching anything and everything even remotely outdoorsy. Parveen, from Jind in Haryana was a strong lad with a fetish for Ultra-marathons. I, of course am a relatively drab character, so will skip any descriptions of self.

From left : Honey, Happy, myself, Zeph and Praveen

I would never have thought of climbing in early May, had it not been due to Happy. Happy convinced me that early starts would help us avoid any post-holing (plodding through deep soft snow) miseries. Plus, lower down the mountains, the snow should be compact. Given the weather forecast, we aimed for a four day climbing attempt, Manali to Manali, starting May 9.

I arrived at the cottage these guys were managing near Vashishat, in late evening, fully loaded and packed, only to find a merry group munching Golgappas without a care in the world. Aashima laughed and quipped that Honey hadn't even sewed his sleeping bag yet,  so what was I doing being so ready and all ! I swear my eyes rolled back into my head at this. Sewing a sleeping bag ?? Who's ever heard of that ?? Turned out that some fiber and polyester stuff that Zeph had researched had to be knit, carried and slept in by Honey for "testing" purposes. Omg !

The climb prep included Zeph weighing each and every thing in every one's rucksacks and suggesting modifications to lighten loads. Sadly, Praveen's undergarments came in the line of fire facing total rejection, before Praveen jumped in fury and took a stand in favour of his balls. My hopes of a lively camp between day climbs jumped up several notches ! :D

Fueled by scrambled egg and tea (thanks Aashima), we literally ran to catch the bus to Solang, and found to our dismay a jam-packed bus which wouldn't even stop. Around this point, Zeph asked Happy if they shouldn't ask the bulldozer coming along for a ride; after all, we all would easily fit in it's scooper !!!

The picturesque village of Solang

We downed some parathas in Solang before beginning the boring walk to Dhundhi. Fortunately, one of the trucks going to the Rohtang tunnel site came along, and the jumpy ride came as a welcome reprieve. Going by the less-used and generally not known, Gaddi (himachali shepherds) trail, we reached what was to be our campsite in around three hours. I couldn't place any of this valley, even though I had camped here a couple years ago during my Basic Mountaineering course. The river was totally covered with snow, visible only by the noise of it's gushing flow. The Bakkarthach side was completely sheathed in snow as well. Our camp stood parallel to Bakkarthach, on the opposite side of the river Beas.

Zeph near Dhundhi

 As we set up the tents on snow and prepared to heat up the stuffed chapatis that Happy had skillfully prepared, Zeph became visible somewhere faraway. Happy went back to inquire and see what was happening. Turned out that Zeph after being left behind, had kept his sack somewhere and gone on ahead to find us and make sure if he was going in the right direction. So he went and came back after 90 minutes with his sack !

As everyone dozed and relaxed after lunch, I buzzed Rinku Sir and Kaushal my location. Yes, the BSNL cellular network works in that whole valley!

Panoramic view around Day 1 campsite; to the right is Bakkarthach

One of the objectives of this climb was also to assess the usefulness of dehydrated food for outdoor purposes. We had come along with a generous supply of dehydrated rice, pulao, dal mash, rajmah, spinach, gobhi, banana and pineapple ! Apart from being extremely light to carry, it allows climbers and trekkers to eat like kings ! I can testify this from the fact that we had some tasty rajmah chawal that night. Had I been trekking alone, I would have fed myself some boiled khichdi, probably uncooked.

We called it a night after a couple of hours of playing Seep. Zeph resolved to sleep outside in the chilling cold. Honey made Zeph kind of anchor his air-mattress with an axe well-placed and dug in his fall line. I tossed and turned the entire night, hardly getting much sleep. Somewhere around midnight, I remember being astonished to find myself in a small pit the shape of my sleeping bag. The soft snow coupled with the warm temperatures had melted beneath the tent in the shape of me !!

I woke everyone up the next day at 0530 with maybe the best chai I had ever made! No idea how I did that. Praveen had had a bad night, what with a sleeping bag that was not at all suited to the low degrees. His nagging foot injury in addition had him decided against proceeding any higher. We ate muesli and prepared for what we thought would be a grueling day climb to up-to 14000 feet. Everyone save Praveen changed into their snow boots and began the steady climb to Lady Lake. Praveen packed and left an hour after we had left.

We zig-zagged, side-stepped and duck-walked two hours to the base of the gully that is known as Lady Lake. Happy was certain that it's Lady Leg, and not Lady Lake. The reason : when the snows recede, the gully is still left with snow and resembles the leg of a Lady. The sensual instincts of early mountaineers have left a mark here!

Zeph, after starting out from camp(lower left corner) on day 2

Day 2, at the edge of some avalanche debris

Happy and I ended the day's walk with happy reminiscing of Climbathon, the climbing meet where we met last year. We pitched camp at the head of the long winding gully, on some flat snows. Unlike yesterday, there was no running water around, and we promptly got the stove burning and melting snow. We had climbed from 11500 feet to 14500 feet that day; and from 6000 feet to 14500 feet in the last two days without any rest days or load ferries to aid acclimatization. I fully expected the altitude to smite us some mighty headaches and nauseous horrors. We were being way too audacious on our season's first climb.

all swell at 14500 feet

We all had tea and decided to go straight to dinner, since none felt like lunch. And suddenly, my stove gave out. We had just this one stove with us to carry us through and now it was acting up. It wouldn't fire up on either petrol or butane, and my mind flooded with memories of the two hungry days I spent camping last year when again, my stove had badly failed me. We coaxed, begged and hoped it would start, but it didn't! So I took out my tools and decided I'd have none of this! Each and every nut was opened and checked. The jet was dismantled and thoroughly cleaned, even though Honey's toothbrush had to be sacrificed. More than an hour of hopelessness, meddling, hacking and sooty hands later, the God of Stoves blessed us with some healthy fire in this stubborn child of it's.

Zeph declined in health that day. The altitude hit him really hard. He had a splitting headache, vomited some times and declined all food. Happy lost his appetite completely and had nothing but water. Honey and I seemed well, and my stomach rumbled it's disapproval at the lack of contents inside it!

the water ritual

I woke up Happy the next day at the decided time, 330 AM. And then he woke us up half an hour later with the wonderful tea he had brewed. Happy hadn't slept the entire night thanks to the altitude, but seemed to feel quite alright. We shifted places and started to brew the tea that we would carry high up, and made a complete mess of it when I ended up spilling it inside the tent. I felt like a total idiot for minutes afterwards as we scrambled to salvage our fabrics and mop it up.

We got into our shoes, gaiters and crampons one by one. Honey didn't have any crampons, and we hoped the snow would turn soft as the day advanced so that he won't be troubled. The face of Friendship Peak in front of us comprised a significant glacial region that had to be bypassed by first traversing right under it, and then traversing left over it. Just before we began the traverse, the first rays of the sun lit up the summit of Hanuman Tibba and the image of it's golden top with Honey and Happy on the slope below me gave me reason to pause. Happy asked Honey if they should rope up now. But, who had Honey's harness ? Not me, said Honey. Not me, said Happy. Not me, said I. Lousy idiots, all of us! So we decided we'd rope up using double bowline knots when the moment required.

Summit day : Hanuman Tibba glitters in the golden morning

The first right traverse took a complete hour to finish. The left traverse initially comprised slopes that clearly seemed to shout, "Don't fall, or you'll die". Coupled with the unrest in my stomach, it made me double anxious. I just had to dump, and dump I did. Just as I finished, Honey came around laughing and took a photo of the historic dump site.

Looking towards Manali .. Deo Tibba and Indrasan are faintly visible in the distance

Happy on the first traverse

The end of the left traverse was a col, from which a walk along the ridge would take us directly to the top. I sped a bit ahead of the two, and was already on the ridge side-stepping over the steepest slopes I'd seen so far when I started to panic. The reason was that the snow was uneven, like a wave, and I thought it might mean that the upper slopes had avalanched before. I faced the slope, toe-kicked up the steep slope and found a huge rock a bit below the ridge-line, to sit on and collect my thoughts.

That gorgeous ridge !!!

Honey and Happy appeared some distance below and seemed to be doing well. They turned towards the ridge further below from where I had turned. Sitting there, I reasoned that an avalanche this close to the ridge-line was unlikely and so side-stepped on. Less than five minutes' later, a pole with a flag-line appeared at the head of the ridge signalling the summit. I rushed on and reached it soon enough. I peered around the pole to the other side, half-hoping that some more distance had to be covered. Instead, I saw an endless drop into the abyss that snatched away a couple of my heartbeats. I had reached the summit, and had almost been scared to death!

Summit!

The summit was a twenty-foot patch of rock surrounded by snow and ice on all sides. My mind was quite blank. I did register that I had completed my first self-sufficient climb. Even though the altitude was moderate, I had made it to the top in less than three days. This was celebratory stuff. Unfortunately, the weather gods seemed pissed. The sun hardly shone, and the clouds around the summit blocked all the great views I had anticipated. Now and then, the clouds parted, revealing a world I had only dreamed of till then. Knife-ridges, a massive tumbling glacier in front across the Beas, the gigantic hulk of Hanuman Tibba, distant ranges to the Rohtang side and a glacier that flowed calmly to the Chandra river. It was so beautiful!

View from Summit, Lahaul side

Through the mist, I saw Happy and Honey steadily working along the ridge. They were still not roped up. Now and then, Happy cut steps in the icy snow for Honey. All seemed safe and in control. As they reached me, all was smiles and hugs. We had reached the top in record time. We were probably the first people to reach the top this season. And Honey didn't have a single mountaineering course or climb in his belt!

Happy and Honey. Climb On!

Wuhu!

We kept sitting up there for a while to let the feeling and the views soak in. BSNL was around with a full signal, and Happy called one of his climbing buddies up. I rejected the idea of sharing this with a person who wasn't there. After a summit snack of Oreos, Happy and Honey roped up on a short rope we found right there on the summit. Then Happy and I gave Honey a revision of all the self-arresting techniques. Happy joked that this had to be the most absurd point in time in the whole climb to give Honey lessons in self-arrest : right at the top!

Happy led Honey, while I walked below their rope, hoping to assist in arresting any fall Honey might have. Ten minutes of traversing later, we reached my rest-point, where we had to vertical step down the face (face in to the snow, and use your toes and ice axe to move down). Five minutes of this, and we were on benign terrain by comparison. We heel-dug, glissaded, bum-slid and slipped our way to our high camp, where Zeph sat melting water.

On some tricky snow conditions on the Friendship ridge

Much safer here

Congratulations were poured, tea was brewed and an argument ensued. Zeph wanted to stay; he felt fine now. The three of us wanted to leave; we were tired and hungry. In addition, it was too cold, water had to be melted for cooking or drinking, Honey had no smokes left and the weather forecast for tomorrow mentioned much rain. Through much reasoning and some emotional atyachaar from Honey's side, Zeph was persuaded.

Zeph makes the most of the ride back home :D

We made a fast descent to our day one campsite from where Zeph decided to proceed by skiing down. Three hours later, we were at Dhundhi and an hour after that, arrived home thanks to the ride in the back of that Institute-owned godforsaken truck. Much beer, chicken and conversation flowed that night. 14500 feet in the morning to 17500 feet in the day to 6000 feet in the evening, all on foot. Damn, it was a crazy day.