Mera and Island Peak - 12 Oct to 10 Nov '18
Written by Leader Olan Parkinson, November 2018
Cold. The coldest it has been for me on Mera Peak. I have experienced it at the other extreme, with it being warm enough to encourage one client to strip off for a summit photo, to this time where it was too cold to have more than 30 second rests, too cold to take gloves off, cold enough for frostbite, too cold to allow proper summit celebrations.
Mera Peak is only a third of the way. It takes a lot of effort, but I think that the realisation once Mera has been tackled, that you still have only started this trip, can be a tough pill to swallow. There is still the Amphu Labtsa pass, a worthy objective in itself, and then if everything goes your way, Island Peak. This expedition is a hell of a journey, physically, mentally and emotionally. Doing it in Autumn just adds a little more flavour.
A day or two into this trip you soon realise that you are in it for the long haul. It’s a 10-day acclimatisation phase before you even get onto Mera Peak. But those of you who have suffered with AMS or symptoms more severe will know the reasoning behind this is sound. It’s not easy trekking and there is incessant up and down through the forest, which for some proves tedious. After-all you come to Nepal for the mountains; good things come to those who wait (unfortunately, one team member couldn’t wait and left after one day, due to injury).
This is the first test that this expedition throws at you. Climbing big mountains involves a lot of repetition, a lot of apparent monotony and this acclimatisation phase is a great opportunity to get your mind into that place where it can deal with it. For some that is a noisy place and requires some real discipline to achieve that peace of mind.
However, the perceived monotony does come to an end at Khare (5,100m). This is the point that most altitude issues start to make their presence known. Thankfully for this team it amounted to little more than headaches. Again, this is due in part to the tried and tested acclimatisation profile. Weather forecasts were now consulted in earnest and the departure for the Mera La delayed by a day. We can train ourselves, but the weather of course plays by its own rules. Strong winds were forecast, up to 80 kph so we adjusted our itinerary accordingly.
The climb to the Mera La is tough. Two thirds rocky and a third on the glacier. This will be the first time climbing properly above 5,000m and it brings with it all the uncertainty and apprehension that it rightly deserves. Training at Khare had gone well but applying these techniques in anger for the first time is always a nervous time. As usual the crampon point is a bottlenecked affair, so we wait for some teams to move on and we subsequently get crampons fixed on the glacier, clip into the fixed line (30-35 degrees) and make steady progress climbing and traversing the glacier. Very suddenly this is real. Here a mistake has real consequences, there are long icy slopes and big drops. Conversation is reduced to just the necessary. Concentration compulsory.
In due course we make the Mera La, no views though, instead, cloud cover. Visibility maybe 30m. Traversing an almost alien environment in these conditions is always surreal. In a strange way the dangers are accepted, and you become quite focused, whether this is from experience or just self-preservation I am not sure, but the senses become quite attuned to every sound, every ghostly image of another climber in the distance. It can be quite peaceful.
The short down-climb to base camp, on the edge of the glacier is tackled without incident by the majority of the team and very soon we are at our base camp. At the moment it is a far better site than previous years. Dry and somewhat sheltered but still with the same amazing views of Mera Peak, Chamlang, and beyond. We would spend two nights here (5,300m) heading out onto the glacier again the next day for some acclimatisation and rope- team practise.
Base camps are a weird juxtaposition of a safe relaxing place and somewhere where you have to make serious and important decisions that may affect your summit attempt. What should you carry in your pack? What should you wear? Timings. Health niggles play on your mind, are you fit enough? Strong enough? It all starts to get very imminent. These concerns grow exponentially climbing to High Camp (5,800m). The climb to there from the Mera La gives you plenty of time to doubt yourself. This, I think is the second test presented to you on this trip. On the climb to High camp you are mentally ‘tick listing’ aswell as assessing your performance on this day. After-all this is only the climb to High camp; but it’s hard, it’s not even the summit day, how can it still be two hours to high camp? You have to accept that you are as ready as you will ever be and to an extent, let the chips fall where they may. The whole team, passing the second test, made it to high camp without any trouble.
Sleep. So important on a high-altitude trip. Yet when you feel you need it most it tends to elude you. Well it does for me. Saying you sleep at high camp, at 5,800m is a very loose statement at best. Your mind is preoccupied and there is that perpetual, ‘am I going to wake up on time’ feeling, ironically, preventing you sleeping, as mentioned. Inexorably that 1.30/2am call comes. It’s almost a relief. Get out of the sleeping bag and get dressed and get out of the tent. Like ripping off a bandage, do it fast and get moving around, get the blood flowing, force down some porridge and tea, yes, the cook team do all that up here!
And then the doubts come.
It’s very, very cold. Not dark though, the just waning moon is out. Other than the cook team issuing instructions no voices can be heard. The only other sounds are the rustling inside tents of bags being packed and the distinctive sounds of carabiners and other metalwork on harnesses. But you can feel very alone. For some this is an absolute first. For others they know what’s coming. Both mindsets can be equally unnerving. People deal with it in their own way. Some need time alone in the tent, others seek out company, while others still voice concerns and possibly seek a way out that is not of their own volition. In my mind, starting is the hardest bit. Once you are going then it’s almost too late, decision made. Unless you are sick I think just get yourself to the start of the climb, and then tie in and then start walking. The decision that’s right for you will soon become apparent. I gave this advice to some. And for some they got their answer very quickly. I have said it before. It’s rarely an easy decision to turn back, but as is often the case, if there is any doubt then there often is no doubt. 6 of the Mera and Island team 3 Sherpas and I summited, in very cold conditions.
There is no doubt that the summit day is testing but I don’t think it is the next test of the trip. Yes, you can learn about your fitness and grit but that is what you came there for, you are sort of expecting it. The real tests are the ones you don’t expect. The descent to Kongme Dingma is the next one. It’s a long day. Up at 2am, climb to almost 6,500m, back to High camp around 8/9am have some food, a short rest then walk for about 4 hours to Kongme Dingma (different to listed itinerary). You are tired, you no longer have the adrenaline to keep you going, the only motivation is that you know you have to do it. That is difficult. For me it’s a good indication of the character of team members. There is no glory of a summit at the end of today. And what if you didn’t summit that morning? That’s even more difficult. Doubts. Possible encroaching disinterest? The thoughts in a tired mind of the two days walk to come, then the 5800m pass, and another 6000er? It’s a lot to be thinking about; furthermore, three members of the team elected to go down from the Mera La back to Lukla. One had summited the other two had not. No consistency of thought patterns there? However, if someone decides to go down then it is generally the right decision for them at that time. So, the remaining 7 continued down into the Honku valley.
Two days in the remote and very quiet Honku lead us to the base of the Amphu Labtsa. There is a small Italian team behind us who seem intent on letting us go ahead and fix the route/abseils. Our team perform excellently on the pass. Dealing with rogue porters, rockfall and the sheer physicality of crossing that pass. It certainly seems that the training has sunk in and all Jumaring and abseiling is despatched without any issues. Once over the pass and all technicalities behind us another two hours saw us at Jagged Globe’s preferred Island Peak base camp at Dolban.
We now had a rest day, under the slightly austere gaze of Lhotse, Nuptse and of course the slightly more benign Island Peak. Here now came the third test. The forecasts were bad. Again, High winds were predicted (70-80kph) for the next 4 days. This meant that even if we condensed our walk out and tried to wait the weather out we would not have time to climb Island Peak and make our flight out of Lukla (definite Deja-vu for me). When you are faced with this news you either just accept it or you try and think of some way that maybe you can sneak success. We of course waited our two days and kept an eye on the forecasts. They didn’t change. 4 of the team had decided not to attempt Island Peak anyway. So, I was left with three who were holding out hope. I gave them the options, the reality of the weather forecast hanging overhead. Upon discussion amongst themselves and with other members they decided that it wasn’t worth the risk.
I do feel it a valuable exercise to encourage people to think through the situation. They definitely made the right decision. We could have mobilised the porters and Sherpas, carried tents, food, water all the way to high camp. To sit there experiencing what we already knew was going to happen. Just to turn around and walk out. ‘Courage and strength are nought without prudence.’ Another test passed.
And so, the walk out. A time for reflection, recuperation, and some celebration. It is also a time when melancholy can set in, home-sickness, boredom, impatience and frustration.
As I mentioned at the beginning, these long trips involve emotional and mental tests aswell as those physical in nature. Remove the physical challenges and the others are what you have left. If you use this time constructively you will grow. You will become a stronger climber and develop skills that you will use in other areas of your life. All expeditions result in a degree of anti-climactic feeling for the individual. It’s inevitable, and also normal. It doesn’t however take away from the achievement. The majority of the team spent a month in Nepal in the Autumn, with temperatures averaging -8 in the tents at night, withstanding -25 on summit day on Mera. They climbed to above 5,800m, some to above 6,400m. They crossed a technical and dangerous pass, walked for days and days, dealt with illness, loss of appetite, each other, disappointment at Island Peak, (The Spice Girls! Tim) and all the thoughts, aspirations and fears associated with such a trip.
There was no failure just challenges, and these guys rose to each one.
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