My travel diaries
Saturday 18 August, 2007 - Camp 3 to the summit, Muztag Ata, China
We wake up at 6.30, proceed to get ready and brew up water. It's -30ºC in the porch of the tent, my sun cream has frozen solid and there's no way I'm going to get anything out of the tube.
Toby has become the organiser, and his voice is heard outside our tents.
"It's a perfect day out here. Let's try and leave between 8.30 and 9 if that's OK with everyone."
We've had perfect weather on several occasions over the last few days, but rarely has it lasted, and sometimes it's quickly changed into whiteout conditions. Nevertheless, we couldn't have hoped for a better start than this. Outside the tent I fiddle with my harness, lace up my boats then struggle with my snow shoes. I'm finding the back heel strap very tricky to tighten up and my fingers are losing warmth quickly. Frustration boils up and I feel sure that everyone is waiting for me again, or has set off without me, but when I'm finally ready, I'm far from being the last, and the only person to have set off already is Dave, who is expecting to be much slower than us on his skis.
At 8.45 the rest of us set off together: Toby, Lindsay, me, Geoff, Juliet and Luigi. Galjen is breaking the trail at the front and Kaji, Leela and Abdullah are sweeping up at the back. There has been a lot of fresh snow, making it harder work for Galjen, but he is a superman and it doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest as he slowly zig-zags up the snow slope. He's been on the summit of Everest already this year, after all. A lot of people are setting off for the summit this morning, but we seem to be the quickest group. Before long we are looking down at the tents of Camp 3 with lots of little coloured figures coming up the slope behind us. Up ahead there are only one or two people, and Galjen gradually brings us up to them.
Breathing difficulties
Early on, Toby and Lindsay stop in front of me. "Are you knackered?" I hear Lindsay say.
I presume she's joking. How can Toby, that fine specimen of physical fitness, be knackered? Nevertheless, they stop for a while so I walk past them and keep going. After about an hour's walking Lindsay's voice is heard behind us.
"Galjen, can we just stop for a minute?"
We all turn and look back. She comes striding up the hill purposefully at a speed that would probably kill me at this altitude.
"Toby's having breathing difficulties," she says.
Sure enough, Toby catches up with us, then collapses in the snow, breathing heavily. This is a big surprise as, Lindsay aside, he's by far the strongest in the party.
"I'll keep going," he says, "but I can't go as quickly as this."
But some of us are unsure about this. If it were anyone else then we might just assume they were tired and let them soldier on, but Toby - tired? There's clearly something wrong, some sort of altitude problem. We're due to make radio contact with David at 10 o'clock, so I suggest to Toby that he carries on till then and lets David make the decision for him.
At 10'clock my altimeter flips past 7000m. Reception is intermittent, and Geoff tries to explain to David what has happened but is unable to manage a full conversation. Without trying to influence his decision in any way, I do my best to outline to Toby his options. If he returns to Camp 3 now and rests for the remainder of the day, he will be able to make a second attempt tomorrow with David, Scottish Jeff and Orna, having spent an extra night acclimatising and not tired himself out too much today. On the other hand, the weather is unlikely to be as good as it is today, which continues to be perfect for a summit attempt. If he continues today, he will have perfect weather, but if he has to turn back much higher up, he will be more tired tomorrow, and perhaps not fit for a second attempt. While he is considering this, Galjen, who has remained silent until now, speaks out.
"I think you should go down. If you get seriously ill, what can I do?"
This makes Toby's mind up for him. It's very sad for him - he's done everything right until now - but it's probably the right decision, and we're still hopeful he can have another go tomorrow.
The endless horizon
By now, Luigi has dropped far behind us. Galjen and Lindsay are much quicker, but they keeping waiting for the rest of us to catch up. Juliet, Geoff and I are a similar speed, with Dave, making bigger zig-zags than we are, falling a little behind on his skis. Lindsay makes the next radio call an hour later, explaining that we are at 7150m and four of us are still going strong with Dave not far behind. After this everything blurs into utter tedium as we slog it up an interminable snow slope. Always it looks like the slope ends just above us, and I keep hoping for a turn or a ridge or something just to provide some variety, but always the slope continues unchanging - there's just more of it. But gradually it becomes more gentle as we approach the summit. It's now cold and windy, minus 20ºC plus a big wind chill, with spindrift getting blown across our faces. My sun cream has remained frozen and I know my face is going to be weatherbeaten again. I sometimes pull my balaclava over my mouth to shield it, but then my glasses steam up and my breathing is inhibited.
I keep up the slow plod: 20 paces, then a few seconds' rest. Geoff, meanwhile, walks more slowly but without stopping. I keep overtaking him and then, thinking that I've left him far behind, watch him waddle past again in his snow shoes as I pause for breath after a 20 pace burst. Eventually he seems to get a burst of energy from somewhere and I can't keep up with him any longer. He and Lindsay disappear beyond the white horizon. Then, just ahead of me I see Juliet wave her walking poles above her head as if in celebration. A minute or two later the featureless white sloping landscape is broken by the appearance of a band of grey rocks ahead and to the right. Then, straight ahead of us the summit appears, marked by two cairns and, curiously, a banner of Buddhist prayer flags fluttering between them. I later learn these have been put there by Galjen while he was waiting for us.
Summit success
At 2.15 I reach the flags, throw down my rucksack and rest. I'm relieved and glad, but at no time was there any doubt I wouldn't make it. It's now bitterly cold and very windy. Lindsay, who has been here for a while already, is keen to round everyone up and head down again, but I want to stay here for longer and take it all in when I get my breath back. I try to take some photos, but the cold has frozen my camera and I can't get it to work. Fortunately, Juliet's hasn't, and she takes a photo of me standing on the summit.
I stay up there for about 20 minutes after the others have left. Beyond the cairns is a cliff overlooking some smaller snow-capped summits. To the left of the cairns is a continuation of the featureless white plateau we have just been ascending. Somewhere beyond this is the deep cleft between Muztag Ata's broken halves. Between the cairns and the band of rock is a range of snow-capped mountains on the far horizon. I later work out that these are the Karakorams and K2 must be dominating the vista, but I'm too tired to be paying as much attention as I should be. Eventually, having seen enough, I start descending. I soon pass Dave just reaching the summit on his skis, the fifth and last of us to do so. I pass lots of people still coming up, but after not very long the line ends and I seem to have the mountain to myself. Some skiers pass me, and I imagine that one of them must be Dave. It takes me about two hours to reach Camp 3. I keep stopping to sit in the snow, rest and take in the amazing view to the west.
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