Thieves, Liars and Mountaineers: On the 8000 Metre Peak Circus in Pakistan's Karakoram Mountains (2 page)

The first day of the expedition starts at 6am with 130 porters assembling in the compound and fighting over our loads. We stand and watch for some time, but at 8am I get bored and decide to start off on the trail with some of the rest of the group. Today's walk is best described by three words: sun, dust and sand. For six hours we walk along the wide desert gorge of the Braldu River, sometimes on a path carved in a cliff face above the river, sometimes across stony ground, and mostly across flat sandy plains. Most of the time I amble along at my own pace, although the presence of our 130 porters and those of other expeditions bound for K2, Broad Peak and the Gasherbrums means that the path is full of traffic and never quiet. Occasional views of snow-capped peaks are glimpsed between clouds from time to time, but most of the big mountains are further along the trail.

I walk for a time with Gordon and Arian. Gordon has brought a bright orange umbrella in Skardu to keep off the sun, and when he first brings it out Arian and I can't avoid laughing at him. Arian is a French environmental student who tells me his main focus for the expedition is not the summit of Gasherbrum II like the rest of us, but to clear Camp 4 of the detritus of previous expeditions. He's brought a handheld video camera with him, and films monologues of himself to camera as he walks along. At one point I see him filming a stream where lots of litter has been dropped onto its banks, and decide to make my own contribution to his film.

“F------ disgraceful, isn't it,” I shout as I walk behind him and clap him on the back before continuing on.

I look back, but the dark expression he gives me suggests this may not make it onto his final footage.

Rock hewn pathway approaching Jhola campsite

Jhola campsite is built into sandy platforms above a major tributary of the Braldu River at 3150m altitude. It can be recognised from afar by the numerous grey plastic portaloos which pepper the area alongside camp. I arrive at 2.30 but have to wait another two hours for all our tents and kit to arrive with the porters. Salman our trekking guide is having trouble with his knee, so Gordon, a paramedic, summons Gorgan, an osteopath, to take a look and give it his considered opinion. It doesn't take Gorgan long to realise the injury is not a serious one, and he concludes it can be treated easily with a poultice doused in alcohol tied around the knee joint. There's just one problem: we're in Pakistan, and alcohol is not so easy to come by. I've not so much as had a whiff of it since arriving in Islamabad. While Gorgan goes off in search of the remedy I let Gordon know that a few members of the team have much the same problem as Salman, and if any alcohol can be found then it might be wise to obtain quite a lot of it as a precaution. Unfortunately I don't think he treats my request with the seriousness it warrants.

An early but efficient start today. I'm nudged awake by Ian at 5.30, and by 6am we not only have all our things packed, but the tent packed away as well. Still, I'm the last of our team to leave Jhola campsite at 6.45 after I've breakfasted and washed. Apart from Bob, Gombu and our liaison officer Major Kiani of the Pakistan Army, whom I overtake about an hour out of camp, it's the last I see of the rest of them until I reach Paiyu campsite in the afternoon.

About fifty metres out of camp I hear voices behind me, and it seems all 130 of our porters have decided to leave camp together. I step out of the way and let them all pass, but for the rest of the day I find myself leapfrogging them every few minutes. They walk more quickly than me, but only in short bursts before they have to stop and take a rest, and frequently I find myself stepping off the path to let a group of them by only to see them stop just a few metres later.

In this way my walk continues for the next seven hours, and the scenery, although moderately dramatic, is monotonous. I continue to follow the Braldu River upstream, a wide grey steep-sided valley which snakes its narrow path along a broad flood plain. The path alternates from dusty trail to sandy beach to pebble-strewn beach, occasionally climbing a trail cut into the left-hand valley wall, but usually keeping to the valley floor. I'm in and out of sun all day as the clouds close in above the valley sides and keep the mountains hidden from view. The grand mountain views are still to come, and for the moment I have to be content with this dusty valley.

I reach Paiyu campsite at 1.30. It's in a sheltered spot among broad-leaved trees, though as dusty as everywhere else. It will be our home for a day as we stay here a couple of nights to acclimatise. Although we've only been walking for two days and climbed just 350m, we're already at an altitude of 3400m and need to let our bodies adjust.

At dinner this evening sleeping arrangements are discussed. Gordon now has a tent to himself and is feeling abandoned. Some people prefer their own tent, while others prefer to share.

“You can sleep with Ian if you like,” I suggest.

“Are you pimping me?” Ian replies.

“I'll offer you two sheep and a goat,” says Gordon.

“It's a deal,” I reply.

“But what's in it for you,” asks Arian, looking in my direction.

“Well, I now have a tent to myself and a goat,” I reply.

But before I realise what I've said, everyone is roaring with laughter.

A rest day at Paiyu camp to help us acclimatise before climbing above 4000 metres tomorrow. At morning tea Anna's husband Philippe, who has set himself the formidable target of climbing Gasherbrum II, Gasherbrum I and Broad Peak this season, produces the research that he's done into the three mountains prior to coming out here. He's put together a little pack containing details of the trek into Gasherbrum base camp, day-by-day summit routes and camps for the three mountains, and photographs of the various routes. It's great reading, though I feel less confident about G1 after reading it. The introductory paragraph says that only 265 people have climbed it to date, but then it goes on to say, “it also has the lowest death rate of any of the 8000m peaks, though this may be because only really experienced mountaineers would consider attempting a mountain as technical as Gasherbrum I.” Hmm … make that really experienced mountaineers and me. The crux of the climb appears to be the Japanese Couloir, a 4 to 8 hour ascent on fixed ropes of slopes at an angle of 45 to 55º. This is steep, and Phil, who has been up it, adds that parts of it are up to 70º. I know I'm going to really struggle on this and may well find it a little beyond my abilities. The positive side is that we'll be tackling it after G2, and I'm sure a successful ascent of G2 followed by some rest will boost my confidence no end.

Philippe, who has climbed Everest, will be attempting the three summits “unsupported”. I'm not exactly sure what this means. He's only paying for base camp services from Phil, although he has also hired the services of Serap Jangbu Sherpa to assist him. Presumably he will be doing a little more load carrying than the rest of us, and also digging his own tent pitches, something we're intending to leave to our
dream team
– Phil's description of our team of Sherpas: Tarke, Pasang Gombu, Pasang Lama and Temba – as this can be quite exhausting at very high altitudes. Whether Philippe will also be helping to fix the ropes on some of the more technical sections, however, I'm not sure. When many teams are attempting to climb a mountain at the same time, rope fixing is usually done in cooperation, with teams sharing resources. So-called “independent” climbers rarely take part in the rope fixing, though they often make use of the ropes. In these cases, they are sometimes asked to make some sort of contribution, either financial or by providing ropes and anchors, though there is little other teams can do if they refuse. In Philippe's case, he is helping to fund Serap Jangbu's salary for the expedition, who will almost certainly be helping to fix ropes.

Paiyu campsite, with the Trango Towers in the distance

Our conversation leads to a discussion of just how much support you should take on an expedition. Phil believes in making life at base camp as comfortable as possible so that his climbers conserve their energy and are in the best possible shape for the climb. He tells us about an incident which occurred on Everest this year when a climber called Mike Farris purchased ‘base camp only' services from Phil's company Altitude Junkies, and hired no additional Sherpa support. His plan was to do all his own load carrying of tents and food, break all his own camps and cook for himself, because he wanted to be able to say he'd climbed Everest unsupported. To give him credit, he did reach the summit wholly under his own steam, but was reportedly so exhausted that he got into difficulties on the way down. Other teams noticed him walking in an uncoordinated fashion, and he ended up being carried back down the mountain by other teams, was badly frostbitten, and will almost certainly need amputation. If true, then not only does this sound incredibly stupid to me, it can hardly be described as climbing Everest unsupported, as climbing a mountain involves not just getting up, but getting back down again. Although he was probably in some degree able to assist his evacuation by walking (rarely does anyone stop to carry down an unconscious person from those altitudes), he would almost certainly be dead without their help. It can be said that he was taking liberties with the goodwill of other climbing teams and the Sherpas who have worked incredibly hard to save his life. Although he probably wasn't in any state to ask for this assistance, on a mountain as busy as Everest there are always going to be people who feel it their duty to assist a climber in danger of dying.

I personally favour comfort on expeditions – you're supposed to be on holiday, after all. The 8 porters, 4 kitchen staff and 2 guides Mark and I hired for our Mera and Island Peak expedition last month may seem extravagant, but we completed the climbs with minimum fuss and camping was no hardship to us, so we could simply appreciate the scenery and enjoy ourselves. Gordon tells me about an expedition he once organised to Baruntse, near Makalu in Nepal (a mountain, it happens, that Mark and I walked past during our expedition). To save on costs, he told the Nepalese trekking agency he'd employed to arrange the logistics that they'd do without a kitchen tent and kitchen crew.

“And then the f---ers brought a cook and kitchen tent for the porters!” Gordon continues. “Every night they were dining in comfort while we were trying to get MSR stoves working in the porch of our tent. Man, I'm never doing that again. And we didn't get much above Camp 1, so the whole expedition was a bit of a farce.”

I spend most of today reading my book. There seems to be a bit of competition going on for the attentions of Cassidy. Yesterday, while I was ambling along slowly with the likes of Bob and Major Kiani, everyone else was shooting off ahead and reaching camp long before us. I ask Gordon, who's a few years older than most of us, why he was walking so quickly – there's simply no point in over-exerting at this stage of the expedition, as this is what usually leads to altitude sickness and we have a whole two months ahead of us.

“Well, I know it's better to go a little slower,” he replies, somewhat candidly, “but I didn't want Cassidy to think I couldn't keep up.” Hmm … methinks this is perhaps a decision driven more by the dick than the brain!

In the mess tent Gordon, Arian, Ian and Cassidy play cards for forfeits such as making each other bed tea and carrying water for each other on trek. I sit alongside them reading my book and get accused of being a spoilsport, but why would I want to get up before 5.30 tomorrow morning to make tea for someone? When I finally do join in after the forfeits have ended, I have a lucky streak and beat them all easily. I end the afternoon with the wholly erroneous reputation of being a card genius which I'm only going to be able to maintain by not playing again.