Kang Yatze 2

But at 12.30, the porridge was cooking and I sat in the mess tent having an early breakfast. My Nepali climbing guide Nima, was confident we were OK to go. And at 1.30AM we set off into the night, head torches illuminating the falling snow, as we somehow found the stone cairns leading a way up the ridge. 

Although I could feel the altitude making the climb harder, I think I felt well acclimatized, after trekking for 9 days at high altitude. Of course it was hard and breathless, but I only had a slight headache, which a Nurofen soon took care of. It must have been cold, as my hydration drinking hose froze and soon I could not drink. I recall Brigitte Muir had warned of this on the Island Peak trek. But I found that if I shoved the hose in my jacket, it thawed in a few minutes and I soon got the precious flow of water happening again. 

Drinking lots of water is crucial at high altitudes.

It seemed like endless up and endless night, but finally at a small strand of prayer flags we were at the "crampon point”. I think elevation was about 5400m. The sun began to rise, amid a clouded and misty dawn. Kang Yatze 1 looked down on us with a stern rocky face. Who dares come up to these heights? Its fearsome ice cliffs and broken blocks of ice as big as small buildings showed that despite it size it could deliver destruction at any time. I now understood its bipolar character. Our side was a huge snow cone, the other side a nasty mix of crevasses, ice cliffs and steep fluted chutes and a knife edge ridge.

Once the crampons were on my boots the ascent began. The snow seemed innocent enough at first. Just a big climb up the snow. Nima broke the ground, but I soon found the snow was so loose and fluffy that following steps did not amount to much ease. Every step collapsed and the climbing began to seem very hard indeed. I had thought I would be going up hard pack snow like on Island Peak. Normally this route looks like this (on the YouTube clips I had seen). Hard snow, just a big hill to climb in crampons. Perhaps a bit like when Steve Gottschling and I went up Ngaurahoe, (North Island New Zealand, in a raging blizzard) in 2011. Hard snow, that crampons bite into. Not this sugary, loose junk.

Nima looked like he was climbing into space, the sky was a dark blue in this high atmosphere. And the cone of snow loomed higher , and slowly the slope became steeper. The mountain appeared to have no end to its heights. There were times when I had to stop short of Nima by only a few steps, to regain my breath and energy. But we pressed on, his Nepalese doggedness to climb ever upward amazed me. These people really are made in the mountains! At least the views were astounding, so at any rest stop I had time to shoot photos and drink in the amazing views.

Slowly we neared what appeared to be an increase in the steep slope. Then we started following the edge of the cornice that led to the summit ridge. Nima had said that this section would be steeper. Understatement!

As we inched our way up the steep section, suddenly I heard a surreal “whooomph!”. Deep and bassy, I have never heard such a sound. I looked to my left and saw a 20m crack zigzagging its way toward the cornice line. I didn’t think to take a photo. I just stood there wondering if anything else was going to happen. Nima calmly said, “The new snow, it causes avalanche”. 

“Good to know” I thought…

Time seemed to escape us. 10m seemed like 100. What looked like it would take 15 mins took 45. The altimeter now showed 5900m, then creeping slowly over 6000….

The slow progress was my fault I’m sure, as Nima would just push (seemingly effortlessly) upwards. I struggled along behind him, often taking 3 steps before bending over my ice axe gasping. Then with a grunt and groan, I would try and manage a few more steps. It was heartbreaking work, the snow never had any structure, the ice axe would plunge in and not grip anything. Sometimes the snow seemed wet in appearance, and the ice axe made a metallic squeak as it went in. It would give some hold then, but mostly it was just soft and powdery. Great for skiing and snowshoeing. Not for crampons and axes. 

Finally at about 11.30am it looked like we were near the top of the endless slope, yet I felt I had reached my limit of energy. After all I still had to make it down. We had been climbing since 1.30am. I suggested to Nima that we were high enough. After all the true summit of KY 1 was not our goal. 

The second summit is more of a ridge point, although it still has a highest point on a rocky bluff. We were literally at the most, about 60m below that, at 6140m. 

The views were fantastic. At that point I felt happy, well above my goal of 6000m and with amazing views. I went over to look at KY1s summit, near the cornice line. Just as I approached it, about 10m away a large section broke off and tumbled into the abyss below. I took the hint and stepped back from the cornice after that!!

We ate some lunch. Well what I could eat of it, since I was almost too exhaused to eat anything. Then photos were taken of the amazing vistas across the Markha Valley, Stok Range and Zanskar Mountains. My prayer flags meant for the summit cairn were laid to rest in the snows. The mountain had given us a pardon and allowed a climb, although Nima confirmed that “normally people don’t climb here in such deep fresh snow”. Yep.... I had that figured for sure!

But the mountain had also given me a few signs that it held the aces. Even a “trekking peak “ deserves respect once it becomes a 6000 m one.

Our descent was uneventful, but mesmerizing (perhaps it was the thin air). Snowballs of all shapes and sizes, dislodged by our boots would hurtle down the steep slope, gaining speed , breaking into two or having erratic paths if they were oddly shaped. It kept me amused on the long walk down anyway. 

To save some time I glissaded (slide on my bum) for about 50m past the crampon point. It must be the skier in me, but why put up with the hassle of snow over loose rock when you can go down a smooth slope of virgin snow?

Namgyal had thoughtfully sent one of the kitchen boys up with juice and biscuits, 300m above the camp (in sneakers). What a welcome sight he was, although when he offered to carry my backpack I declined. I would rather he carried me!

By 4.30pm we were back at base camp. A 15 hour odyssey. And now I have six times two. Two peaks I have climbed over 6000m. Perhaps now it is time to think about going up a number. To lucky 7?

Now I play it all over in my mind like some mental case. Did I have enough to keep going? Should I have rested and then gone for the summit? We had enough time, we could have come down with torches if need be. Was it too dangerous?

I am not unhappy. I just dont deal well with ‘unfinished business’(see my other blogs!)

But I won't do Kang Yatze again, no need. 

It was fun and amazing.

 But what ever becomes my “next time”, I will remember that I don’t like to leave things incomplete. At least I have something to work towards….