The Chango Chronicles - 1998 : Third Time Lucky

It was a relief to take the bulky double plastic boots off, peel the socks off my feet, make myself comfortable on the flat boulder and admire the silver glint of the quartz crystals embedded in the rocks around me. The orange glow from the late afternoon sun lent a magical quality to our campsite which helped me to ignore the fact that I had just broken a cardinal rule of the outdoors : never leave your feet vulnerable!

With camera in hand, I hopped around from boulder to boulder like an excited rabbit, trying to avoid the deep snow drifts in between, in pursuit of the perfect picture. All it took was a split second of inattention - my right foot slipped, a sharp edge sliced through the inside edge of my ankle, missing the vein by a couple of millimetres. The blood stained the snow red where the heel had landed.

 I rest my injured foot on a boulder at the camp below Pt.6484m.
Leo Pargial (left) and Corner Peak form the backdrop 

The peaks around us - Leo Pargial, Granite Peak, Corner Peak, even the peak we had come to climb - were indifferent to my plight. They continued to bask in their stony isolation. Fortunately, Ramgopal and Ravi who had accompanied me on our little jaunt above Base Camp were more sympathetic.

Three years had gone by since my last visit to the Chango Glacier (see http://taccidental.blogspot.ca/2014/01/the-chango-chronicles-1995-grip-on.html ), three years in which I had certainly grown older but not necessarily wiser, as the above incident amply illustrates. With the defeat at the hands of Granite Peak in 1995 still vivid in my mind, I decided that a scaling down of ambition was in order. I now had my sights set on a peak with no name which was suspected to be 6484 metres high. It is the very first summit that comes into view as one labours up the Chango nala towards Lake Camp and is the first prominent peak on the true right bank of the glacier.

Pt. 6484 m from Base Camp (Photo by late Arun Samant)

Arun Samant and Anil Chavan had set their sights considerably higher - they wanted to climb the tallest peak of the glacier, Leo Pargial. Though it had seen many ascents, none had been made from the Chango glacier. All the parties had approached the mountain from Nako. I could understand why the altitude appealed so much to Arun and Anil. You could call the four of us (excluding Ramgopal who was a local 22 year old lad from Chango) "The Everest Rejects". Let me explain.

In 1997, Hrishikesh Jadhav was planning a civilian expedition from Maharashtra to climb Mount Everest in May of the following year. The climb would be funded largely by a corporate sponsor. Arun convinced me to try for a spot on the team, together with himself, Anil and Ravi Wadaskar. The funds needed for the expedition amounted to at least ten million rupees, a sum which could easily have paid for ten apartments of the size that I was living in! Who could resist the temptation of an opportunity to climb the highest peak in the world by having to spend only a token personal amount? In 1996, individual clients from the western countries were already forking out as much as US$ 60,000/- to commercial operators for the opportunity to climb Everest. Like everything else, mountain climbing had been packaged, promoted and sold as one more product the consumer might like to buy!

Map by late Arun Samant for The Himalayan Journal

Fortunately, we did not make the team, and decided to go off on a private little adventure of our own.When Arun asked for suggestions, I threw the Chango bait at him, making out a very convincing case : the area would be empty, without the hordes that invade Everest and the popular peaks in India, there were fine climbs to be attempted on virgin summits, I knew the glacier quite well after my two previous visits and we could go in the monsoon months when travel arrangements and getting time off from work was so much easier than in the summer when almost everyone in India was going somewhere. Arun was hooked and with his usual efficiency began the planning process. He was a structural engineer by profession and brought his talent for meticulous execution to the table.

But the monsoon has other perils lurking to waylay the unwary traveller. Our original plan to arrive at Chango from Spiti (via Kullu and Kaza) had to be jettisoned when the road to Kullu was blocked by a landslide. This resulted in the four of us being dropped off at Shimla's "Lakkad (literally Wood) Bazaar" bus stand by the two vans we had hired in Ambala. It was close to 1 am and raining. With a plastic sheet covering our 30 pieces of baggage, we stood shivering in the cold under our umbrellas, waiting for the bus.

The bus to Thangi pulled in at 4:30 am and by the time we had loaded our luggage we were thoroughly soaked. Two days later it was a relief to finally check into the now familiar Rest House in Chango. However, we still had a few hiccups to overcome : Chokdup Negi, Our Man in Chango, was away in Tibet on a trading trip and had not returned home. This gave us time to thoroughly dry out all our equipment on the sunny compound of the Rest House.

Drying Day in the compound of the Chango Rest House

The tinkling of the bells round the necks of the mules announced our departure on the 5th of July and the slog up to the first approach camp wasn't made any easier because of familiarity. A few stray bushes of wild roses stuck out from the stony earth and provided welcome relief to eyes squinting in the harsh sunlight that bounced off the browns and ochres of the surrounding rocks. Stands of turmeric yellow corydalis, pink primulas and the large red veined leaves of wild rhubarb lent colour to the landscape as we stepped on to the grass of Lake Camp the next day. A brief rain squall drove us into our tents. We listened contentedly to the patter of the rain drops on the tent fly as we sipped chai . Then there was an excited shout outside. One of the muleteers yelled, "Indradhanush!" and we emerged just in time to witness the magic a rainbow can perform anywhere in the world and bring out the child in us. Perhaps it was a good omen.

Dorji and Ramgopal shelling the justly famous Chango peas at Lake Camp 

Finally, ten days after having left Mumbai, we established and occupied Base Camp on the 8th of July at exactly the same spot that we had used in 1995. It felt great to be hopping around the same boulders and stones again, and to see that the cairns we had erected three years earlier were still intact. Even the little shrine that Harsha had lovingly constructed to house his little idol of Ganesha was undisturbed. Perhaps the gods would relent this time and allow our supplications to bear fruit.

Base Camp. L to R : Ramgopal, Aloke, Ravi, Anil, Dorji, Arun

Chokdup makes fresh rotis at Base Camp

Up at the high camp for Peak 6484 m where I now cleaned and bandaged the wound, the only thing that resembled a ripening fruit was my ankle. I cursed my stupidity when my foot would not even fit into my boots. The throbbing pain persisted in spite of swallowing a pain killer, and the anti inflammatory drug that I popped seemed to have very little effect on the swelling. Five days had already elapsed since we arrived at Base Camp, the weather was great, and the time to climb the peak was now! Ravi and Ramgopal seemed content to give my foot time to heal, hoping we could all climb this mountain together.

Ravi (left) and Ramgopal at the camp below 6484m

However, that was not to be. On 17th July, Ramgopal and Ravi set off at just after 6 am and reached the top in five hours. Traversing the slopes of the south west face, they came to the bottom of the rocky south ridge which they followed all the way to the summit. We were thrilled that the expedition had achieved its first success, and that too a First Ascent. It was time to head back to Base Camp.

Ramgopal on the summit of 6484m

Leaving behind the tent, some food and the gas stove with a couple of cylinders, we made our way down. Tying the laces on my boots very lightly, I was able to walk slowly. I was exempted from carrying any load: Ramgopal and Ravi took my sleeping bag and a few personal effects and gallantly escorted me back the next day to the Base Camp where I immediately washed my wound with Dettol and warm water. I began to feel the curative powers of a lower altitude almost immediately.

While I had been feeling sorry for myself and reaping the harvest of my folly, the others had been busy. Arun, Anil and Dorji had set off to climb Leo Pargial. Dorji had been helping Chokdup do some building work around his house when he was persuaded to join our motley group. Packing enough food and fuel for five days, they had gone to the head of the glacier, made a right turn and camped below the mountain. From another camp at 6300 metres above the west col, they reached the summit on 18th July, a day after Ramgopal and Ravi's ascent of Pt.6484m. It had been a magnificent effort under very trying conditions and a wicked wind chilled them to the bone at the top. Dorji, instead of being elated at having climbed his first Himalayan summit, was dejected because the view into Tibet that he had been promised by Arun was snatched away by clouds, robbing them of the splendid panorama that they might have otherwise enjoyed from the top of Chango's highest peak.

Anil Chavan high on Leo Pargial (Photo by late Arun Samant)

The view north from Leo Pargial (Photo by late Arun Samant)

The three of them staggered into Base Camp on the 19th, exhausted but victorious. We gathered in the kitchen tent to listen to their story and bask in the glow of supreme satisfaction that emanated from the trio.

Anil (left), Arun (centre) and Dorji are all smiles after climbing Leo Pargial

Four days later, Arun, Anil and Ravi left to attempt to climb Ningmari (Flat Top), leaving me alone with Chokdup. I kept busy cleaning up the tent, washing the dishes, attending to my wound which was showing some signs of healing but still not robust enough to shove my ankle into my climbing boots. The weather had been as close to perfection as I had ever seen in my three trips to the glacier. Now, with barely ten days remaining before our stint at Base Camp would end, I was beginning to get a little anxious. Though the expedition as a whole could justly be classified as having been already successful, it felt like salt had been firmly rubbed into my wounded pride. I needed to stand on top of one of the peaks to rehabilitate my ego.

The stars leave their tracks over Ningmari

Chokdup readily agreed to help me find my lost self esteem. The two of us returned to the high camp below Pt.6484m and reoccupied the tent which had been left there. In the twelve days since I had come up here the first time, most of the snow en route had melted and we had to negotiate a terrain characterised mostly by boulders and scree. It took me six hours to reach with my newly healed (I hoped!) wound and even though I carried a light load I was exhausted by the time I reached the tent. My inactivity over the last ten days had surely contributed to my lack of fitness. Chokdup, who had arrived half an hour earlier, welcomed me with a cup of tea.

The snow at this campsite had melted away 

We spent the next morning going up to the col from where we could peek into the Cholo Tokpo glacier with its unclimbed peaks. After a brew and breakfast, Chokdup scampered up to the top of the right hand rock pinnacle with the ease of an ibex. I was impressed and took comfort in the thought that I had chosen the right companion for our climb the next day. Satisfied with our little foray, we returned to the camp to spend the rest of the day sunning ourselves and enjoying the gorgeous vistas.

Chokdup making chai on the col

Chokdup waves from the top of the pinnacle

The Cholo Tokpo glacier from the col

At 3:25 am on Monday 27 July the starry night sky sparkled with the brilliance of diamonds, but we still needed our headlamps as we left the tent. In an hour and a half we had crunched up to the col and by 6:30 had arrived at the two big rocks that jutted out from the south west face. It was extremely cold, which was a good thing. Here was an opportunity to climb the peak in a direct line on the face on ice. I quickly demonstrated the basics of belaying off ice screws to Chokdup who nodded. Lesson over, we set off up the face, taking almost three hours to climb 6 pitches. Only once did I feel really vulnerable, when a rock the size of a large pumpkin whistled by a few feet from my head like an artillery shell and sent a shiver up my spine. I looked up and saw the sunlight creeping over the top of the mountain and knew that we would be targets in a shooting gallery of loosened rocks very soon.

The view across the SW face to Granite Peak and Leo Pargial 

Chokdup near the exit gully

When the sun flooded the face in a blinding halo of light we were already on top of the exit gully and out of harm's way. At 10:30 am we stood on the same summit rocks that Ravi and Ramgopal had been on exactly ten days earlier. Chokdup had come equipped with a bunch of small prayer flags which he proceeded to release into the wind. They floated away soundlessly into the Cholo Tokpo. I was content. My prayers had been answered, and with a vengeance. This was unarguably the clearest day we had seen on the glacier thus far. Needless to say, I went berserk with the film advance lever and shutter release of my trusty Nikon FM2 camera! I could look into Tibet and its brown hills in the distance. It was a view that Dorji would have certainly appreciated.

The mountains of Tibet form the horizon behind Granite Peak

Ninjeri as seen from the summit of Pt.6484m

Looking across the steep upper pyramid of Ninjeri I could see our old adversary - Granite Peak. Seeing the upper portion of that mountain from this perspective was daunting : how on earth did I imagine that I had the skill and capability to reach the summit? It demanded climbers more competent than I, surely, to tackle its challenges.

Chokdup and I took the blue route whilst Ravi and Ramgopal had taken the red route

Corner Peak, on the other hand, looked like it could be climbed by an amateur like me. It appeared much lower as well, from the vantage point of Pt.6484m.

I hold on to the Indian flag on top of Pt.6484m

With that objective in mind, Ravi, Chokdup, Ramgopal and I trudged up happily three days later to pitch our tents on a broad snow shelf below the northwest face of the mountain. It was the same shelf where Ajay, Harsha and I had camped five years earlier (see http://taccidental.blogspot.ca/2014/01/the-chango-chronicles-1993-first.html ) in our abortive attempt to climb the peak. The snow conditions were perfect and we were in a buoyant mood; so much so that Ramgopal had tied a lock of his sister's hair as a pennant to a long wooden staff that he carried. The sister had recently had her head shaved before joining a Buddhist nunnery and Ramgopal intended to plant her hair on the summit of Corner Peak as an offering to the gods!

However, the gods appeared not too pleased with these plans, for as soon as I lit the gas stove to brew some chai for the four of us the whole contraption exploded in a ball of flame and I just about managed to pitch it out of harm's way into the snow. In spite of the "Fire Retardant" label on our tent, I knew that the nylon fabric could easily have been reduced to a small pile of fused polyester fibers, rendering us homeless. When the stove had cooled, I examined the unit. An irreparable leak in the sheathed metal cable connecting the cylinder to the burner was the cause of the near disaster.

We dispatched Chokdup and Ramgopal to fetch the robust MSR XGK II from Base Camp while Ravi and I settled in for a frugal dinner consisting of some theplas (a sort of long-life paratha) and dal, topped up with a mango candy. Our only stock of water was what little we had left in our bottles and we rationed out the sips.

Waiting for the other two to return the next day, we had to escape the intense heat build up inside the tent as the little cirque turned the snow into a giant reflector. We lay on our mats outside being simultaneously broiled and frozen. The heat only served to increase our thirst.We stuffed our water bottles with snow and wrapped them in black polythene bags and placed them in the sun. Even so it would be a long time before we were rewarded with a few sips of snow melt.

Ravi sunbathes while we wait for Chokdup to turn up with the stove

Eventually, Chokdup appeared with the life saving stove and some kerosene, but minus Ramgopal. The latter had begun to suffer a prolonged bout of vomiting and nausea at the bottom of the snow shelf and decided to return to Base Camp. Three days earlier he had helped Arun and Anil descend all the way back to Chango as they planned to switch to greener pastures below Raldang Tower near Kalpa after they had failed to climb Ningmari due to stone fall hazards. Perhaps his rapid return to over 18,500 feet below Corner Peak had taxed even his hill bred constitution, just as it had affected Chokdup in the same manner three years earlier below Granite Peak.

The end result was that Chokdup planned to go down immediately and chaperon Ramgopal all the way to the more conducive altitude of Lake Camp where he could convalesce before returning to Chango. We said goodbye to Chokdup and immediately began a prolonged session of hydration. It was the last day of July.

My addiction to tea generally works in favour of my climbing partners as they can slumber on a bit longer while the Chai Demon drives me to start the brew. I began the process at 2:20 am and took 45 minutes to make 6 mugs. Four mugs went into the flask for the climb while I roused Ravi with his wake-up cuppa.

We were on the move by 4 am under a starry sky, the pools of light from our headlamps helping us to solo up some steep ice. Dawn found us at the base of a vertical section where we roped up, I climbed it quickly, brought Ravi up, and found ourselves on a small shelf. We took a tea break here before tackling a horrendous vertical crevasse that split the face with a deep gash. Ravi went exploring with some trepidation, found a way in and out of it on to another steep slope of ice. We climbed this without incident and suddenly found ourselves on the lip of a huge field of ice that led gently to two summits.

A couple of soccer fields could have easily fitted on the summit ice field

Taking the rope off, we trudged in forty five minutes to the snowy hump which had appeared to be the highest point. Of course Murphy's Law was at work here as well, because when we reached it, the other rocky point appeared decisively higher. Wishing to leave nothing to chance, we went to the other one and indeed it was higher by about 5 metres! We built a cairn here and I enjoyed the privilege of indulging my passion for chai at the very summit of Corner Peak!

The view of Granite Peak from the summit was stunning

We spent almost two hours on the summit area before descending back to the tent which we reached at 4:30 pm.

Ravi on the slightly lower snowy summit

Though rather diminutive in height when compared to its more glamorous neighbours, Corner Peak had provided us with the perfect ending to a delightful holiday in the mountains. The climbing was always interesting, not too technical, it presented us with intriguing route finding problems, I never once felt out of my depth, and the reward was the second First Ascent that the expedition had achieved.

Chango 1998 marked the culmination of an affair that had simmered on and off for 5 years. Though I had been the obsessive suitor through all the three expeditions, I owe the little measure of success at the end to all who shared in the adventures around that broad ribbon of ice. Each one of them was instrumental in getting me up Pt.6484m and Corner Peak, and we all owe much more to Chokdup and his band of friends and relatives for contributing to that success. Everyone that we came into contact with in Chango made us feel so completely at home that I shall forever cherish in my heart this enchanted corner of Kinnaur.

This post is dedicated to the memory of Arun Samant 

(1948-1999)

For the official report on this expedition, please refer to "Chango 1998" by Arun Samant - Himalayan Journal 55 (1999). Page 120.

For more references please see the end of the article "Tango in Chango" by Aloke Surin - Himalayan Journal 52 (1996). Page 73.

The apricot harvest had begun as we returned to the village

The Chango Chronicles - 1995 : A Grip on Granite Peak

"To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive," wrote Robert Louis Stevenson. The Scottish writer had obviously not sampled the delights of road travel in the Himalaya. Stuck in a traffic jam on National Highway 22 below Rekong Peo, I could only hope that we would arrive at Chango the same day. A collision between a lorry loaded with rocks and a bus operated by the Himachal Roadways Transport Corporation had effectively sealed off the narrow road. The respective drivers had gone to Peo to summon the police while all manner of wayfarers emerged from jeeps, buses, lorries, cars and vans to inspect the damage and use the opportunity to urinate into the gorge of the Sutlej, flowing in a sparkling, flat, muddy ribbon far below to our right. Rajesh Thakur, whom we were paying Rs.3800/- to transport Franklyn and me from Shimla to Chango in his blue Maruti van, chattered inconsequentially with his buddy Om Prakash.

Three days earlier our flight from Mumbai had landed into the 41 deg C oven known as Delhi. We transferred to the Old Delhi railway station, baking for a couple of hours before diving into the air- conditioned bliss of the Howrah-Kalka Mail. The narrow gauge train from Kalka to Shimla was a sheer delight, its 103 tunnels spanning 95.5 km providing us with five and a half hours of travel bliss. At Rs.143 per head for First Class seats and no extra charge for our considerable luggage, it was a steal. (Railway addicts will love this BBC documentary http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZFHw3L1FXvw on the Kalka - Shimla Hill Railway)

Kalka - Shimla train at Barog station

An hour later, the police turned up, with an official photographer in tow who began to take pictures with his vintage Rolleiflex Twin Lens Reflex camera. The formalities over, the two vehicles involved reversed and went on their individual journeys. We followed in the wake of the lorry, stopped at Yangthang for a late lunch, and reached the haven of the Rest House at Chango at 5 pm to find it locked. Franklyn went into the village to look for Gimmet, the caretaker, and returned instead with Gimmet's wife who opened the doors for us. We moved the seven kit bags, two totes and two rucksacks indoors.

My journal from 7 July 1995 reads - "It feels good to be back in this wonderful village. The air is balmy, the roar of the Spiti river is in the background....the temperature is a pleasant 23 deg C.....a half moon in the sky and the orange glow on the rocky peaks....exquisite." The locals, as always, welcomed us with a smile.

A generous lunch was in store for us at Chokdup Negi's house the next day, comprised of peas, onions, radishes, rice, dal and potatoes supplemented by meat brought all the way from Kaza in Spiti and accompanied by a chutney made from fresh green chillies and mint. Luckily, we had completed all the expedition shopping and the arrangements for the mules before this rich repast, because we could barely stagger back to the Rest House where we collapsed for a refreshing siesta. Chokdup, who was Our Man In Chango was already up in the glacier with the advance team but had instructed his brother to organise our move up into the mountains.

Moonrise from Base Camp

We were a full eight weeks earlier in the season than in 1993 ( for that story see http://taccidental.blogspot.ca/2014/01/the-chango-chronicles-1993-first.html  ) and hoped that this would give us the right weather window to make an attempt on Granite Peak. Jishnu Das and Pyar Singh had arrived more than two weeks earlier with a group of students from St.Stephen's College in Delhi whom they were ostensibly introducing to the joys of Himalayan climbing up in the glacier. This would give the pair a head start as far as acclimatization was concerned and they could therefore, by default, spearhead the first moves on Granite Peak. Harsha (who was trailing a couple of days behind) and I would form the support team. It was a complicated arrangement, and was to affect how the game played out in the end.

I had met Jishnu for the first time a couple of months earlier through a common friend, Mohit Oberoi, at the sandstone climbing pit in the front lawn of the building housing the Indian Mountaineering Foundation in Delhi. A keen rock climber, he was looking for an opportunity to tackle steep rock at altitude. His climbing acquaintance, Pyar Singh, who lived in a village near Uttarkashi in the mountains of Uttarakhand, would also come along. Jishnu was almost two decades younger than me and Pyar Singh could not have been more than thirty, just like Harsha. At almost forty, I was decidedly the old fart of the team! Franklyn was the same age as me but fortunately he harboured no silly ambitions like trying to climb Granite Peak.

Lake Camp had considerably more water than in 1993

Our arrival at Lake Camp coincided with the departure of Neha and Girish, the last of the students, going down to Chango. With the help of Chokdup, who would remain with us for the remainder of the trip, we quickly established an Advance Base at around 18,200 ft. below the towering ramparts of Granite Peak. It was an impressive location. Situated at the centre of what could be termed the Chango Ice Cap, it commanded gorgeous views of Leo Pargial, Ninjeri, the two rocky summits of Pt.6180m (between which hung a steep ice field like a bed sheet hung out to dry), Corner Peak (6370m), and away to the west the sweeping curve of the glacier receded into the horizon. Marco Pallis, who had made the first ascent of Leo Pargial in 1933, had come up from the village of Nako to the west col of the mountain and was so impressed with what he saw that he wrote - "I can imagine nothing better than a season's climbing with a base camp well up on the Chango glacier.There is an abundance of suitable sites and every variety of climb within easy reach." (Himalayan Journal Vol VI page 124). Looking around me, I agreed wholeheartedly.

To the north east, the east face of Ninjeri plunged in an impressive sweep down to the glacier

Advance Base at the foot of Granite Peak (6585 m)

To the south towered Leo Pargial, 6791 metres - the highest in Chango Glacier

Further east, the attractive rocky summits of Pt.6180 metres pierced the sky

Sketch map of area

In just twelve days, I had moved from the enervating heat and humidity of Mumbai at sea level to the crisp cold air (on the first night at Advance Base the temperature plunged to minus 17 deg C) beneath Granite Peak. Up here, it was not the heat, but the altitude which made me move slower. Things improved as the days went by and I hoped I would be able to keep pace with the young lads. None of us had ever done any serious rock climbing above 18,000 feet before, so this was going to be an interesting experiment. As for me, I was considered an average climber even at sea level!

The cliffs rearing up to the peak were steep and raked constantly by rockfall; one day I saw a block the size of a grand piano detach itself from the south face and come hurtling down. Our only hope was to access the south west buttress (which formed one corner) from the right, negotiate a hanging ice field on its flanks, and try to ascend what we instinctively called The Tower, a vertical pillar which appeared to relent in angle after it merged with the upper sections of the cliff. We thought that it might be possible to ascend these sections and gain the crenellated ridge that swept up to the summit. The summit block was separated from the ridge by a significant notch. Almost 3,500 vertical feet of rock armed with hidden surprises and always protected by the unpredictable weather lay between us and the top. Nowhere was there any level ground to pitch tents. The plan was to progressively fix rope as much as we could, then move quickly up these and bivouac at some suitable point, try and reach the top from there and then descend as rapidly as we could. Even in theory, this seemed like a crazy idea; buoyed by the optimism that always accompanies the start of any venture, we sorted out the gear and prepared for our first step on the granite.

Jishnu and Pyar Singh (foreground) reach the base of the climb

Pyar Singh, Jishnu and I hiked up in 20 minutes to the start of the climb. Shod in rock climbing shoes, Jishnu set off on the first pitch with aplomb while Pyar Singh belayed him. I was content to watch the proceedings, take photos and enjoy the sunshine. After a while I dumped my load of extra ropes and equipment and went down the glacier to where we had cached some spare ropes and food two years earlier, near our 1993 Advance Base. I also managed to dig out 3 tins of milk powder and a couple of noodle packets buried for two years in the moraine. The sky had darkened by the time I returned to our present camp at 5 pm. and soft snowflakes began to fall. It snowed for four hours before letting up.

Jishnu leads up the first pitch, trailing a rope to fix. This was a rock climber's dream - perfect rock, blue skies, sunshine.

The next day, 18 July, was my turn at the sharp end of the rope. While Jishnu relaxed at Advance Base, Pyar and I jumared up to the top of the ropes and took it in turn to lead the next couple of pitches. I wrote in my diary that night - "The climbing was ...... delightful, up easy angled rock, the sun came out and it was warm. Except for gasping at altitude, everything seemed under control".

Pyar Singh (left) and Jishnu enjoy the view and the sunshine on a ledge. The tents of Advance Base can be seen inside the circle.

The snowy whiteness of Leo Pargial was in stark contrast to our mountain 

On the third day of climbing, we arrived finally at the base of the Tower. Chokdup now augmented our team and his tremendous strength helped us carry all the gear up the fairly steep ice field to the band of very broken ledges from which soared the Tower. While Chokdup and I lolled in the sun soaking in the gorgeous views, Pyar and Jishnu went to work and by the end of the day they had climbed and fixed rope to within 10 metres of the top of the Tower. The climbing was quite exposed and there were a couple of really tricky sections : I could tell by the way Jishnu remained stationary for a long time, contemplating his next move. Finally, it took Pyar's greater strength, agility and boldness to complete the section. By late afternoon the clouds had moved in and a cold wind was stirring.

Climbing on The Tower : Pyar Singh leads

Glowing with satisfaction, we came down to the tents at 6:30 pm to find that Harsha and Franklyn had arrived from Base and pitched another tent. The next day was declared a rest day by common consensus, the rationale being that now since we had a safety line all the way to the Tower, our next move would involve packing a couple of days' supplies, make the broken ledges our base and then try and move further up the mountain without having to descend to Advance Base. Chokdup took the opportunity to go down to Base to pick up more food and goodies while Jishnu, Harsha and I took a stroll towards Pt.6180 m and the north west face of Granite Peak.

Pt. 6180 m

The upper portion of the north west face of Granite Peak as seen en route to the col that separates it from Pt.6180m.
The actual summit cannot be seen from here. The high point in this photo is the northwest shoulder of the peak

The next day we stood at the bottom of the fixed rope. Chokdup (who had descended to his village to attend to an eye infection) had been replaced by Harsha who would be stepping on to Granite Peak for the first time. Electing to go first, I jumared up the initial section just when snowflakes began to fall. By the time I was halfway up the next pitch, the weather had deteriorated even further, the snow falling thick and fast, soon maturing into a full blown storm. We retreated back into the tents.

Two days later as we moved up again, while I was climbing up what I called The Grey Slabs, the expedition fell apart. Pyar Singh's reluctance to continue with the climb had become increasingly apparent. He voiced his fears about the weather and about our rather less than ideal speed. He said that we did not have much of a chance of reaching the top under the circumstances and suggested we call off the climb. His concerns were of course justified. We were heavily laden and were forced to move slowly, we were no match for his level of fitness and skill, we were a long way from the summit and there could be any number of serious obstacles further up our route. Jishnu opined that if Pyar was pulling out, then he would do the same. With Harsha still trying to acclimatize to the altitude, I was left with no choice. The dull grey weather matched my mood.

Over the next couple of days we helped Jishnu and Pyar move all their stuff down to the Lake Camp, lured by the prospect of eating the eggs that were still available there. Franklyn stayed back at Base, nursing a deep gash below his right thumb, sustained when he fell on the moraine. The 26th of July was the clearest day since we had fixed rope on The Tower and the sense of regret was partly alleviated by the smell of frying eggs and tea, wafting on the decidedly more oxygenated air as we sat on the turf next to the water. I wrote a letter to my wife and handed it over to Jishnu to post when he got to Delhi. To complete our diet, Chokdup suddenly appeared from below, bearing  a gift of fresh apricots from the village. His eyes were much better and he accompanied Harsha and me back to the Base Camp late in the evening. Even though reduced in numbers, we were not yet ready to throw in the towel. We moved back up the glacier once again.

A howling wind greeted us at the base of Granite Peak and we crawled into the shelter of the big North Face VE25 tent that we had left standing. An hour later it had subsided enough for us to venture out and pitch Jishnu's little Tadpole tent which he had been kind enough to leave behind for our use. For the next 5 days Granite Peak remained shrouded in mist and cloud, appearing totally hostile. To make matters worse, I caught a bad cold and nursed an irritating sore throat. Snow fell intermittently. To kill time, we walked around on the glacier all the way to the Kuru Tokpo Gap below the west col of Leo Pargial and climbed a steep snow gully on Pt. 6180 m to see if it could reasonably lead to the big hanging ice field that separated its two prominent summits. The gully branched to the right and led to a rather enjoyable traverse to the right, all the way to the top of a waterfall which drained the ice field. We filed this away in our memory as we had a backup plan to attempt to climb this attractive mountain if we didn't go back to Granite Peak.

The Ninjeri Gap and the gully on Pt. 6180m

Discovering that Jishnu had somehow mistakenly taken all our ice screws and some of the rock hardware down to Chango, we dispatched Chokdup in the hope of intercepting him before he left the village for Delhi. Ever obliging, Chokdup disappeared into the cauldron of cloud that constantly swept up the valley. Harsha and I went up the first two sections of fixed rope on Granite Peak, straightening it out and reinforcing the anchors on which our lives would depend. After an absorbing day on the rocks we returned to enjoy the tea that Franklyn had waiting for us.

Two days later, Chokdup returned, completing the over eight thousand feet ascent from Chango to Advance Base in one single push! He was absolutely exhausted by the time he staggered into camp. If it had been any of us, we would probably have died from such a superhuman effort. He had the ice screws with him. We had no time to lose, with only 5 days left before we had to start withdrawing from the glacier. Our vacation was coming to an end, we had families and jobs to go back to.

On the first day of August, Chokdup, Harsha and I set off for a last ditch attempt to climb Granite Peak. We were barely ten minutes from the tents when Chokdup began to vomit violently. His retching spewed out the dinner of the night before and he reeled with nausea. Perhaps he had come back up too quickly and needed to rest a day. We quickly redistributed our loads, told him to stay back and continued. A thundercloud, accompanied by flashes of lightning, added drama to our efforts as we hauled ourselves up the ropes. At a little after 5 pm we decided to bivouac, just below the ice field. The MSR stove behaved impeccably even as it began to snow, purring away steadily and kept us supplied with soup and noodles. The snow continued steadily halfway into the night. Tucked away in our bivouac sacks and clipped into an anchor, we spent a fairly comfortable night.

I woke up to an indifferent dawn.



The view from our first bivouac

In the morning we could look down at Advance Base. We saw two tiny figures moving around the tents. We hollered and waved our hands and made signs that we were going to move upwards. One of the figures seemed to have seen us and waved his hands in return. I rappelled down two rope lengths to retrieve some gear that we had left on one of the ledges and was back at our bivouac spot to relish a breakfast of Tarla Dalal's moong dal halwa which Harsha had been preparing. Thus fortified, we packed up and were preparing to get on with the business of moving on when the ropes below us tightened and a grinning Chokdup appeared over the lip of the cliff! We let out whoops of joy, thinking that reinforcements had arrived. Our cheer turned to despair when we saw that he was carrying an empty sack.

Franklyn, seeing me going down the ropes earlier, had interpreted it as a sign that we were coming down and had asked Chokdup to go up and help us down with our loads. The black humour of the situation was further exacerbated when it began to snow in earnest. Chokdup helped us move up the ice slope to another spot to spend the night while he quickly descended into the clouds. We spent a fairly miserable day at this spot, in and out of the mist. The night was no better, the ledge on which I was perched was curved like a boat and too small for me.

Our second bivouac 

A piton proved useful as a spout

When the morning came and the weather continued in the same vein, we knew we were beaten. But being the cussed souls that we are, we were not going to give up without a token fight.

"How about trying to push Pyar Singh's high point just another rope length?" I proposed to Harsha. He looked at me dubiously. Even though he knew it was going to be futile, he was sporting enough to say,"Okay, you give it a shot, I shall belay you".

Leaving everything except a rope and some basic climbing gear, we hauled ourselves up the Broken Ledges and proceeded to the base of The Tower. As we turned the corner, a wicked wind swept across the mountain and whipped the snow around our faces. With gloved hands that were numb with the cold, I climbed the Tower awkwardly in my double plastic boots. The rock was wet and slippery. Visibility kept changing, flurries of snow would blind me temporarily as I scrabbled for a toehold. I thanked God that I was clipped into the fixed rope, and I wondered how hard it would have been for us to use our ascending devices with our loaded rucksacks on our backs. I was panting with the effort as I hauled myself up another few feet to the top of the first fixed rope on the Tower.

My futile attempt to go beyond Pyar Singh's high point.

I certainly felt out of my comfort zone. In fact, if I somehow managed to progress beyond Pyar Singh's high point - which was highly unlikely - I would be putting us firmly in the disaster zone. Being married with a five year old son positively helps when taking critical decisions in the mountains. Adopting as my guiding principle the sound motto - "He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day!" - I decided to call it a day and rappelled off the Tower even as the storm increased in intensity. By the time we descended to our last bivouac spot our hands were numb.

Packing everything up and shoving the excess gear into the empty rucksack that Chokdup had brought up, we retreated down the ice to the ledge where we had spent the first night. We left the extra sack clipped into one of the piton anchors and began the harrowing abseils down to the glacier. It was dark by the time my feet touched down on reasonably level ground and we staggered the short distance back to the tents. I slipped a couple of times in the fresh snow with the fatigue. "I was tired, thirsty, frozen cold and damp", I was to write later in my diary. Granite Peak had shrugged us off as if we were some pesky little insects.

Our attempt on Granite Peak. This photo, taken 3 years later from the summit of Corner Peak, gave us an idea of  how far we were from the top!

In the next couple of days we stripped the mountain of all the fixed rope except the ones on the Tower. We left only a few pitons and some slings which might bear mute witness to our passage many years hence. Chokdup's brother Gimtey and his friend brought the mules up to Base Camp and helped us move down to Chango.

Gimtey (left) and his friend don all the hardware as we prepare to leave Base Camp

At Lake Camp we revelled in the smell of grass and the colour of the myriad wildflowers that were sprouting from unexpected crevices and cracks around the boulders that dotted the landscape. A cold rain squall did not dampen our spirits as we raced down to Chokdup's house for a hot and welcome meal.

Two days later we boarded the Shelkar - Chango - Rampur bus, to once more travel hopefully! However, our travails were not yet over. The bus went on a diversion to the village of Leo down a frightening stretch of dirt road,  packed passengers in like sardines into and out of Peo, and a stout Kinnauri lady with her little baby gleefully sat down on my lap. I would have gladly offered her my seat and stood up but she would have none of it. She insisted that we could both complete the journey sitting down - by which she meant that she would be sitting on me! Franklyn and Harsha, seated on the bench seat behind me, guffawed with laughter. Fortunately, a month of going up and down on the glacier had strengthened my thighs and I survived.

All afternoon the rain had been pelting down and it was announced at Jeori that the road ahead was closed due to a landslide. We were stuck.

However, there is always a silver lining to any situation. We hired two Maruti vans for Rs. 200 each and zipped up the 17 km to Sarahan, home to the famous Bhimakali temple, and checked into the Hotel Shrikhand to spend the night. Here we proceeded to drown our sorrows in a case of beer which gave us a good night's sleep, leaving us fresh the next day to admire the flamboyant plumage of the world's first captive bred Western Horned Tragopan in the pheasantry above the village.

Illustration by Allan Sutherland

With never a dull moment during the entire trip, I had no doubt that I would return to travel up National Highway 22 to Chango again!

View from the Broken Ledges

Traverse at Lake Camp : the challenge was not to fall into the water!

Franklyn (left), Jishnu and Harsha en route to Advance Base