Gasherbrum II (2006)
Friday, June 23. "We flew to Skardu" may not sound beautiful to you, but they're music to my ears. I'm laying in a motel room in Skardu after a 45 minute plane flight, which allowed us to avoid two grueling days of driving up the Karakoram Highway. So far the trip has paralleled my experiences the previous two years--long plane flights, jet lag, mind-searing heat in Islamabad. I've also seen a number of my Paskistani friends, and look forward to seeing others in the future.
Mike and Saad Tariq Siddiqi (click)
On Thursday I gave the Alpine Club of Pakistan $500 donated by my friends and family for earthquake relief. The money will be used to help rebuild schools in the earthquake zone. Another $500 went to the American Alpine Club's fund for earthquake relief.
Monday, July 3. We arrived in Base Camp yesterday. The trek from Paiju was mostly uneventful, in relatively good weather. We had some snow on the hike to Concordia, but by the time we stuffed aboutt 20 climbers in a cook tent and ate some food, the weather cleared and the hike to our actual campsite was in good weather.
The mountain is very crowded, with many more expeditions to come. There was a meeting today about the fixed (permanent) ropes. This issue is more difficult each year. Here's how it works. The first teams on the mountain must fix the ropes if they want to climb. Later teams (and individuals like myself) don't have to spend the time and money to fix the ropes, so these earlier teams want us to pay for the use of their ropes. On the other hand, there is enough rope in camp to fix the route 4 times, so why should we pay when we can set another set of ropes? At this point, I can proceed without paying anyone so in true local style, I'll ignore the problem until I need to deal with it.
Gasherbrum Base Camp (click)
July 15, Gasherbrum Base Camp. Lots of folks have summitted in the past week as the result of an extended period of brilliant weather (the best in the past three years in the Karakoram). So many have summitted that one person has decided to claim the top without even going there, we think! We arrived a few days too late to make any serious summit attempt, and now we're stuck in the first major storm in several weeks.
There are a couple of major 'issues' on G2 this year. First, the icefall and glacier between Base Camp and Camp 1 has deteriorated rapidly, and there are many large crevasses spanned by some very delicate bridges. So close attention needs to be paid to ropework, and even then most of us has poked a leg or more into a crevasse at this point, with little or no consequence. The second problem is the location of the route between Camp 1 and Camp 2. Only those who put in the fixed ropes have much good to say about it. The route runs right up the middle of the avalanche runout for the whole upper face. We may need to move parts of the route to the more traditional slopes to the left.
The icefall below C1 (click)
However, the biggest obstacle I've faced so far is the heat. Even at C2 (6400m) the sun has been fierce! By putting our sleeping bags on top of the tents we've been able to languish the hours of 9 to 4 inside our tents.
Some techical details for the climbers in the audience. BC to C1: 5000m-5900m, icefall with rotting seracs, generally stable, then glacier w/ Alaska-sized crevasses w/ very thin bridges, deteriorating daily (probably the crux of the route!). C1 to C2: 5900-6400m, poorly placed fixed ropes (follows almost exactly the shadow line right of the route marked on the photo on the background page, threatened by seracs and avalanches in the lower half (we may move this). I haven't been higher yet, but steep snow is the worst of the lot above 6400m. Fixed rope is all 7-8mm perlon, anchors are dodgy, though.
July 29. On July 25, I reached the summit of Gasherbrum 2.
Crowds on the ropes below C3 (click)
First off, I should say that with the nearly perfect weather we've had this year, almost everyone who has tried to reach the summit has done so. G2 is maybe the second- or third-easiest of the 8000m peaks, so the technical problems don't exist that you find on other peaks. That being said, it's still one of the tallest peaks in the world and I'm happy to have climbed it.
After the snowstorm that dumped on us from July 13-16, the weather broke for the better again and everyone prepared to head up again. On the 17th I was struck by a bit of 'bad stomach' which left me without energy (and also a day behind everyone else). As a result I didn't head up the hill until July 19.
Finally I was ready to go on July 25. I decided to leave between midnight and 2am (simply because I didn't have an alarm clock). I slept with my two base layers of clothes on and draped my sleeping bag over me. When I got up I only needed to put on my down pants and jacket, fasten my harness,drink a cup of hot chocolate, and go. At 1:30 when I left it was perfectly clear and surprisingly warm. Of course I was wrapped in down clothing from head to foot.
Going to C3 (click)
The route from C3 to C4 sucks. It used to be all snow, but now is mostly a ramp of gravel, festooned with multiple crappy ropes. In the middle of the night, at 23,000 feet, alone, on bad ropes--I guess this is what I came for! It was a relief to pull up into Camp 4 (7400m / 24,300 ft). Except that I had an acute attack of minor diarrhea, so getting the harness and down pants off in time was challenging.
The next 300m of ascent was snow plodding. I reached a bit of a plateau where I left my down gear, stove, and anything else I could think of to minimize weight. It was warm, perfectly clear, and with no wind. Another 100m up snow took me to the base of the final long snow slope to the summit.
And here the fun started. I'm at 7700m / 25,300 ft. The track goes up the slope above in a wide zig-zag, first right, then left, then right again. To the right one can see far into China. Two people are sitting at the first zig, one is below me, and one at the top left. I'm plodding up to the right when I see a red flash above. The top climber (Spanish) had fallen and was pinwheeling down the slope. I stared directly into his eyes as he spun by only feet away from me; he protected his head and I realized that I was absolutely unable to help. Amazingly he landed on the only level patch of snow in the whole area. I yelled to his partner below to come up, and all of us converged on the groaning climber, afraid of what we would find.
Looking down the final ridge (click)
He was alive, but for how long? He was conscious, could move his limbs, but very quickly it was clear that he had a sore neck and was having trouble staying awake. The two other climbers were Poles, including the leader Krzystof Wielicki. He yelled, "Here you go again, Mike, another rescue at 7700m." Last year I helped rescue his business partner Artur off of Broad Peak.
We had no rope, tents, or stretcher. If the fallen climber had serious injuries he was dead. I was afraid of skull/neck fractures, brain trauma, or internal bleeding. Krzystof got on the radio and had a tent, sleeping bags, and doctor sent up from Camp 4. The uninjured Spaniard was on the radio with his doctor. It was about 1pm when the Poles descended. Should I stay with the Spaniards, go down, or go up? I told the victim's companion that there was nothing we could do (medically speaking)--his friend could die in an instant or could just as easily be OK. So I would go on to the summit and stop on the way back and aid as needed. Was that ethical? Even a skilled physician would only be able to describe what happened to the poor guy if he had internal injuries. Helpless in the face of a perfect day, I went on up.
The remainder of the climb up the snow was in a well-packed track, the snow almost perfect in its hardness. There were no ropes (the Koreans had removed their ropes, but not all of their trash). Then there were ropes so I clipped in. There was one curious rope, very cheap-looking. I finally saw that the sheath was gone and I was hanginig on the inner core only! Noting that fact with the disinterest that high altitude brings, I kept going.
On the summit (click)
I finally reached the top of this slope, expecting to find a longish summit ridge. To my surpise I peaked over and saw that it was less than 100m to the summit! I walking along the path below the knife-edge ridge and popped up to the summit at the criminally-late hour of 3:45pm.
I stopped a the 'rescue tent' and the victim looked much better. Still lacking anything in particular to contribute, I headed down at an easy pace, picked up my gear, and passed through a cold and windy Camp 4. The descent down the crap rock was accomplished with sparks (from my crampons) and curses as I hung on the frayed ropes. I managed to pull into Camp 3 about 9pm, after dark but only by an hour. Along with seemingly half of Europe, I'd summitted Gasherbrum 2. And I was the first American of the season by a whole 15 minutes.
P.S. The Spaniard descended with the help of his teammates and was flown off to Skardu. You certainly know more about his current state than I do. I'm very happy that he survived his fall with so few injuries. The Polish team deserves all credit for getting resources to 7700m as fast as possible.
August 22. I'm home, with my luggage only a week late. I'm enjoying bacon, good beer, and sane drivers on the roads. So here are some reflections on the trip.
Gasherbrum 2 was something of a slut this year, allowing almost everyone who wanted her to have her. We had a lot of great weather and great snow conditions. Since the climbing is technically easy, there were few obstacles to success. Interestingly, the great weather led to a lot of rockfall danger on K2, so there were few summits on that peak.
Trying to get to Islamabad (click)
To my knowledge, there were only three Americans attempting G2 and none on G1. There were a few on a Broad Peak/K2 commercial trip. Why so few Americans on the Baltoro? Peaks like G2 and Broad Peak are relatively easy climbing and provide valuable experience at altitude for those attempting harder high peaks. I'm guessing that most Americans go the Cho Oyo - Everest route, looking to bag Everest without actually working hard at it.
The fixed ropes between C1 and C2 were very poorly placed, but nobody had the energy to place another set. Seeing 8 to 10 climbers hanging from the same poorly anchored rope gave me the willies. Similarly, the route to C4 used to be a snow slope but is now a slope of steep gravel and loose rock. The ropes here were cut and frayed. You clipped into 2-3 ropes and hoped that one held if you fell.
The fact that somebody fixed ropes on most of the fixed sections turns the route into a 'via ferrata'. The Koreans removed their ropes on the summit ridge, leaving a little bit of steepish snow to climb and descend unprotected–much more sporting.
Messner said that one does not climb 'solo' on these routes, but as a 'parasite'. I agree. I used the fixed ropes and followed an unavoidable set of steps in the snow. However, most of the ropes were not necessary and in several cases (like when a bunch of climbers were descending on them) I just skipped them.