Walking with Giants — Great Heights
Posted Tuesday 9th November 2021
Contents
- The Less Travelled Dudh Kosi Route
- Ascending to a Serious Misfortune
- Evacuation and Progress Upward
- Arrival at Gokyo
- Great Heights and Thin Air
- Across the Grain
- A Last High Pass
This story started in Kathmandu in November 2003. After a few days of cultural acclimatisation, we flew to Lukla (on the third attempt) and then started walking. Altitude acclimatisation demanded a fairly cautious ascent into the high mountain valleys and passes. On the fourth night after leaving Lukla we were camped in the village of Kumjung. This story picks up from that point…
The Less Travelled Dudh Kosi Route
Everest, Lhotse and Ama Dablam — the great spectacle above Kumjung.
Sunday morning, but no one day looked any different from any other. We went back to early (06:00) rising this day, and in fact left Kumjung before the sun had reached the village. The track left from the same end of the village as we had entered so we had a limited appreciation of the village itself, although it would seem to be both prosperous (from the well kept look) and off the main trekking trail (no track-side ‘shops’ of any consequence).
Initially the trail contoured around the north side of a valley but quite quickly developed into a rather airy affair cantilevered out from the side of a sheer drop. Flagstones supported on timber bracing were a sure sign that we were in space in a manner of speaking. The porters took an alternate route that rose steeply through a rock cleft in the ridge above and in so doing probably concentrated the hard part of their day into a relatively short period.
In the airy part of the track, we were confronted by a trio of runaway yaks coming from behind and a group of loaded beasts heading in the opposite direction. Prudence suggested we should secrete ourselves in a safe refuge among the rocks on the uphill side until both lots had sorted themselves out and gone past. Quite how the two groups of beasts got around each other will remain one of those endearing Nepalese mysteries. In time the track turned around the nose of the ridge and sidled slowly up a grand open hillside to the village of Monjo La.
Trekkers, yaks and, high up the hillside, porters converge on Monjo La.
The sun shone brightly making the gentle uphill seem harder work than it really was, no doubt exacerbated by the altitude which reached around 13,000 ft. Part of this section was enhanced by the distant flute and mandala playing of the porters well up the hill side on their short cut route.
Monjo La was an excuse for an extended stop, with lemon tea, before descending the long switchback track down to Phortse Thanka (3640 m / 11,940 ft) next to the now rather smaller Dudh Kosi. Camp was made in the yard of a tired looking lodge on the east bank of the river, reached by a cantilever log bridge.
As seems to be the custom while we are acclimatising, the actual trek only took half the day. In this case, we had lunch after arrival at our camp site, following which everyone occupied their afternoon exploring locally or just lazing around.
Ascending to a Serious Misfortune
The morning wake up call coincided with a brilliant orange cloud show over the peaks to the south, which was a diversion from the pervasive cold closer to home. The track, back over the log bridge, took a very steep ascent to join the main trail some 70 metres above the river which certainly ‘warmed’ the group up and served to highlight the issue of diminished stamina recovery. The track to Dole ran above the south side of the river and initially climbed steeply. In several places waterfalls adjacent to the track were frozen solid and provided interesting, if not somewhat hazardous, diversions.
It might be bright and sunny but the waterfalls and trekkers remained frozen.
The forest was predominantly leafless deciduous beech (?) trees which steadily thinned as we gained elevation. At the third major waterfall they were more or less left behind and we soon found ourselves contouring across a huge slope well above the now vertically distant river. Rounding a corner on this track brought us face to face with Dole; one of those locations which give no warning of their existence until you are there.
Camp was made at the Cho Oyu Lodge, just across a small side stream. One lodge claimed to be at 4220 metres while the one next door and at the same level preferred 4080 metres / 13,380 ft, in either case well into the zone where considerable care needs to be taken getting to higher elevations. The map and GPS tended to agree with the latter.
Dole village with the blue camp tents visible. The airport was one of the paddocks partly hidden by the rock.
In the time before lunch Glenda and Judith engaged in some curious posturing in the name of yoga, to which one of our porters (Adhikan) responded in kind. Christine, in a moment of exuberance, suffered the worst possible outcome by rupturing her Achilles tendon, clearly stopping any further participation in the trek.
How things can change in an instant — one moment all is well and the next is a disaster, in this case an incapacitating injury and a serious evacuation problem to be attended to. The initial rescue effort was directed to a horse evacuation and to this end Poon was sent back as far as necessary to find a suitable animal and driver. At the earliest this would be a next day departure, so the trek basically had a layover day (or days) until evacuation had been accomplished. The evening was a relatively sombre affair.
Poon, the horse and horse driver arrived barely two hours after morning wake up — an early start for them. After some executive discussion it was decided that a horse would be inappropriate due to the steep descents and possibility of accidents, so the somewhat annoyed horseman and his steed were paid off and sent home.
Poon and Min set out around 10·00 to walk to Namche to arrange a helicopter evacuation through our ever-reliable fix it man in Kathmandu. The earliest possible helicopter arrival was reckoned as mid to late afternoon with a following morning arrival, when clear weather could be relied on, more likely.
Evacuation and Progress Upward
The usual early start preceded a trek over to the yak paddock that on this occasion, was to be Dole Airport. Christine was carried on the back of a number of porters in turn as well as Purna (cook) thus saving both time and any further risk to the damaged foot. For around an hour we waited hopefully (but without actually knowing) for the sound of an approaching helicopter.
Eventually there was a faint sound but it died away, only to reappear some minutes later approaching rapidly. In short order the helicopter (a Eurocopter Squirrel — similar to the one that made a daring rescue from high on Everest in 1996) swept up the valley, made a full circle around the landing paddock with Purna waving wildly in the centre then came in to a very gentle landing on what must have been the only bit of level ground in the region. According to the Aircraft book the Squirrel must have been close to its operating ceiling, certainly with a load aboard.
Min and Poon emerged, much to our relief, after which Christine, Martin II and baggage were loaded up with considerable rapidity and the copter took off and swept away down valley all in a matter of minutes. It was quite an emotional moment.
By the time the now reduced trekking party arrived back at the camp site most of the gear had been packed and gone on its way up valley. We followed at about 09·20 and apart from the initial climb up from Dole had a wonderful stroll through open but steep country with grand mountain views fore and aft and the odd glacier peering over bare rocks in clefts left and right.
A side valley at Luza revealed a stunning scene for a short time.
Not far before we reached Machermo we passed through the settlement Luza which had a memorial rock on the approach to an Italian who died here of altitude sickness around 10 years earlier. Machermo (4400 m / 14,440 ft) was a clean and attractive village in a wide side valley. It is difficult to imagine how the village could have been swept by an avalanche that wiped out a Japanese trekking group in 1995 (?) but such is the claim.
By now we had risen well above the tree line and in fact well up toward the upper part of the valley. Nearly all the time now we had one or more glistening white peaks in sight, the almost opalescent glow of the mountains contrasting dramatically with our immediate rocky surroundings.
Not only did the mountains dominate our surroundings but the extraordinary sculpting of the ice and snow was daunting in the extreme — huge vertical flutes surging down off ridges with razor thin tops, hanging glaciers almost hovering in space, great faces of almost bare rock with delicately picked out ice lines along geological lines and all of it spearing upwards well above where we were.
These things were the dominant part of where we were for the next five days or so, making a huge and unforgettable impression while we were in their proximity.
We camped, as usual, in a lodge yard, but since Min was an old acquaintance of the lodge owner, we had access to the sunroom for most of the afternoon and evening including for Paddys Bar and dinner.
Arrival at Gokyo
The usual morning process preceded a departure around 07·40. As the altitude increases the temperature (at least at night) drops and on this day, it wasn’t until we topped out on the hill above the village that we were in sunshine and able to warm up to a happier state.
A village expedition dog adopted us at Machermo and accompanied us on our way for the next eight days as it turned out — a spirited creature that took a while to develop a sense of track etiquette that was comfortable for its human companions. Once over the first hill the track more or less contoured for a few kilometres while the Dudh Kosi, which had been well below us since Phortse Thanka, rose up to meet us.
Whilst the river was flowing quite vigorously there was plentiful ice on rocks and in side gullies, reminding us that it wasn’t all that warm even in the sun. As we approached the terminal moraine of the Ngozumba Glacier the track took a line up the sidewall on the west bank. In places it was teetering off the wall with high crags overhead on one side and very little on the other. In the midst of this was a section where the track was completely iced over — quite a scary proposition.
The track scrambles up the west bank to the Ngozumba Glacier Moraine while Cho Oyo rises up in all its opalescent brilliance.
At the top of the climb the track crossed a stream on a small bridge then followed between the lateral moraine and several magical green lakes through to Gokyo. At each lake we stopped and fiddled around taking photos, while lunch was laid out in the sun overlooking the second one.
At one point I bounded the short distance (forgetting how illusory distances can be at high elevation) to have a look over the glacier. It turned out to be a vast, wide rubble covered lumpy tract running through an incredible array of rock slopes and pinnacles. Gentle creaking and groaning which intermittently came from below were a reminder that it is all rather impermanent.
The vast detritus capped glacier with its source with Cho Oyo, still 4000 metres higher than us, dominating the head of valley.
The afternoon walk to Gokyo (4771 m / 15,650 ft) was a short affair interrupted for a picture shoot under the prayer flags at the entrance to the village. Accommodation was on the rather restricted space of a terrace in the centre of the village, not far from a comfortable sun room with a somewhat daunting view of tomorrow’s target — Gokyo Ri. Right below the town the largest of the three lakes, Dudh Pokhari, glittered green in the afternoon sun, but turned to grey as soon as it went into shadow.
The yaks did their final duty for us this day, and once unburdened they set off for home with their genial driver whistling and chatting away to his charges as they disappeared down valley. Paddy’s Bar also disappeared for the time being in deference to the high altitude.
Indoor dinner was punctuated with the spectacle (if that is the word) of head torches slowly descending from Gokyo Ri. after having observed sunset over the Himalayas. The first trekker to arrive back was a Japanese girl in a rather wet condition, apparently having fallen into the stream at the top of the lake. Not a good way to go at this altitude and in these temperatures.
Great Heights and Thin Air
Since today was to be an out and back day walk, wake up was 30 minutes later than normal followed by breakfast in the adjacent dining room. Once this was over, we collected our day gear and set off for the summit of Gokyo Ri — just under 2000 ft above our camp location up a steep but open hillside (hill in the Nepalese context, mountain in ours).
It was steep and unrelenting, in full sun but with a chill breeze to temper things a bit. The track itself was formed by years of trekking so was navigationally easy and moderately demanding underfoot. Jill led the way, with me not far behind and Paul in sight a bit further back again, while the rest slowly dropped from view behind. The green Dudh Pokhari and village of Gokyo were mere miniatures down below us.
Gokyo and Dudh Pokari beside the glacier, from near the summit of Gokyo Ri.
The summit is a rocky rubble strewn area, inevitably be-decked with prayer flags, with stupendous views to all points of the compass. Eastwards was the most inspiring — a flank of Everest, rearing up from the somewhere beyond the other side of the kilometre wide Ngozumba Glacier immediately below us.
Everest, Lhotse and Makalu dominate the eastern view.
Northwards Cho Oyo filled the horizon above the glacier which it gives birth to, while in other directions there was pinnacle after pinnacle; range after range of snowy and icy peaks. Between these monster mountains a distant peak was visible well inside Tibet.
Hanging glaciers and great drifts of ice dominated part of the northern skyline.
The savage chutes and cliffs, particularly on the middle reaches of Everest, were in distinct contrast to the terrain that we are used to back home.
Unbelievably steep ice fields and avalanche chutes coyly hide in a cul-de-sac but nothing can hide their dramatic impact.
There were at least five of the fourteen 8000 metre peaks visible at the one time. Everest and Cho Oyo were unmistakable but identification of Lhotse, Nuptse, Makalu was difficult in among the jumble of high peaks.
A large amount of film was expended but even then, I doubt if justice was done to the location. In fact, it is impossible for me to describe the impact of Gokyo Ri in ordinary words. Never before have I had such a commanding view of so much of the planet from one location and never have I seen so much snow and ice, let alone the transitory beauty of the extraordinary natural sculpting that surrounded us.
Our Sherpas brought up a kettle of warm cordial and biscuits with them for a high level morning tea, a bit of a surprise but very welcome in the thin air and low temperatures — the air pressure was around 520 mb, barely half that which we are used to. Around an hour was spent on top before descending back to the village.
The uphill trek took two and a half hours but downhill it took only around one third of that. I had a good day and finished bounding down somewhat in the lead. It was not a competition of any sort — just a bit of exuberance and a lot of gravity on my part, although that was to some extent to the exclusion of views while concentrating on foot placement on the way down.
Lunch was provided after our return and the afternoon was spend largely relaxing, which after a fairly arduous morning, was very welcome. The day’s high point (GPS) was 5364 metres (17,600 ft), which was the highest point on the whole trek, albeit by only a small margin
Across the Grain
Today we went cross country, from Gokyo across the Ngozumba Glacier to the foot of Cho La; a pass that leads into the valley that leads up to Everest Base Camp or down to Namche Bazaar. We had an early start (before the sun had reached into the Gokyo valley) and within a fairly short time we took a contouring line up the lateral moraine to the ice track across the Glacier.
Most of the way across the glacier was not raw ice but rather rocky detritus that in time would build up the terminal moraine a couple of km south of where we were. I am not sure how many years that would entail. Occasional rumbles and grumbles from beneath our feet reminded us of where we were.
The Sherpas were punctilious about keeping everyone on the track, which given the unstable and treacherous nature of glaciers was a wise precaution. Even so it went close by the top of crevasses and ice cliffs that in themselves were a strong deterrent to wandering. Every so often ice was the feature; in crevasses and sinkholes and in one place an ice mound. We took around an hour to do the crossing, wending our way through ice and rubble, around small frozen lakes and at a judicious distance from ice clefts and crevasses, to the far lateral moraine.
Crossing the glacier — frozen lakes, ice heaves, crevasses, sink holes and rubble, accompanied with underground rumblings to highlight its impermanence.
Once back on terra firma it only took around half an hour before we stopped at a lodge at Thagna (a collection of a few buildings, not a settlement as we would know it) for an early lunch. By that time, I had realised that my exertions of the previous day had left me with something of a stamina deficit (slow energy recovery) which meant I was finding going uphill really hard work. This stamina deficit thing afflicted everyone at some point along the way.
After lunch we had a long uphill drag up what was a rocky wasteland to a ridge which topped out at 5119 metres. It was slow going since the rocks made for a rather rough track where care needed to be taken. Even after we passed the high point, we had a rough passage while dropping down to a rocky wasteland at Cho La Phedi, under the lee of the pass of the same name. This was the highest camp of the trek at 5046 metres (16,560 ft).
The way to Cho La was a barren valley to a camp at foot of the pass.
Tents were scattered among the boulders on rock terraces while the kitchen was a tarpaulin strung between a pair of outsized boulders. Given the somewhat depleted energy levels of most of the party an early night was called. The ‘expedition’ dog, which picked us up at Machermo several days ago, remained with us (having included Gokyo Ri in its itinerary) and continued to do so until we got back to a long way below where we current were located.
A Last High Pass
Sunday again. Daylight revealed that our camp site had been used by previous groups, some of whom were less than punctilious about cleaning up than we would have liked. A modified early morning call with tea, but no washing water, in deference to the altitude saw the group move out, still in shadow, at around 07·20. The route was through rubble strewn gully angling up toward Cho La (pass) around 1000 ft above our camp site.
At one point, as the gap narrowed, we were able to look straight up an avalanche chute which, although it was snow free, was entirely capable of dropping rocks and detritus without warning. We did not tarry in this point, and the Sherpas would not have let us even if we wanted to. They were acutely aware of the dangers of such places.
The track steepened and most of the remaining distance was covered scrambling through rough rock fields up to the summit at 5347 metres (17,540 ft), where we met the Cho La Glacier. In the gap just before the glacier we had a crowd picture stop which included the trekkers, the Sherpas and porters and a couple of small groups that we met going the other way — hardly the place we expected to find anyone at all.
The higher ramparts of the glacier had strange ice strata where normally lateral moraines would have formed.
The summit glacier occupied the same valley that we needed to descend so, in this case, we had to walk down it for around a kilometre. All around were great slabs of hanging ice and sculpted rock cliffs with the relatively tractable surface of the glacier spread between these somewhat threatening features.
Stacked ice slabs decorated the surrounding mountains of rock.
The walk was fairly easy, albeit strictly contained to the marked track, until we reached the ice and snow covered moraine.
Snout of the glacier — we descended down the rubble on the right.
Having worked our way through that lot, with some difficulty, we progressively found ourselves in a valley widening out to a cold but sunny upland park like place. Lunch was set out in a windless corner where everyone was able to relax and refuel in the knowledge that the hardest was over for now.
We were still surrounded by mountains of ice.
The afternoon was spent meandering down the widening valley, through a number of manageable ups and downs to a derelict yak herders pen overlooking Cholatse, a frozen lake in a deep cleft below our camp. The camp was quite remote from any form of habitation.
Cholatse lay in a deep cleft next to our camp site, completely frozen.
All things are relative, and in this case the return of marginally thicker air had the effect of improving energy levels and morale.
