K2 in the moonlight, with our base camp in the foreground. © 2004 Mike Farris
This is a diary. I've made no real attempt at good writing and haven't included much introspection. The first bits are copied verbatim from my written diary; I quit writing partway up the hill and am just now (August 24, 2004) writing the rest of it.
If you want to know what happened earlier in the trip, visit Jamie McGuinness' Expedition Dispatch page.
Our story so far...After the rescue of Fabien and Yannik, we sat around base for almost a week waiting for the snow to stop falling and wind to stop blowing on the mountain. Weather forecasters kept predicting a good weather window, but it was always 4-5 days away. We were scheduled to leave base camp for home on about July 28, so time became a precious commodity. For several days we went to bed thinking we'd start up the mountain, only to change our minds in the morning due to bad weather. On July 19, we decide to head up the hill...
K2 in the moonlight, with our base camp in the foreground. © 2004 Mike Farris
July 19. Ok, we're finally moving. We fuss about in the morning, counting on clouds to keep the snow hard. I take off about 9:40, winding through the maze of glacial pinnacles. It takes the usual 90 minutes to reach the base of the fixed ropes. As we start up the ropes we meet the Iranians, dejected and tired, on their way down. Why they tried to summit in the face of the bad weather (all predicted by the forecasts) is beyond me. We tell them to spend a couple of days in BC and come back up behind us. They shake their heads and go down.
Unfortunately the snow is soft and mushy. Jamie and I plod up to Half Camp (5300m/17,400ft). The French (Olivier, Pierot, Denis) come up behind in our tracks. The slopes up to C1 are soft and unpleasant. Temperatures have been warm during the stormy weather and the new snow is getting its first taste of sun. As I approched C1 I kicked down a chunk of snow which cartwheeled down the slope. Just like in the cartoons, this triggered other rolling snowballs and eventually the whole slope was rolling in a semi-avalanche which just missed the French. I saw none of this-Jamie told me about it later.
Jamie ascends to Camp 0.5 at 5300m. © 2004 Mike Farris
I arrived at C1 (5600m/18,400ft) about 3:10pm, quite tired from slopping through the wet snow. Jamie and the French arrived a few minutes later. I was in a bit of a pickle. I had counted on getting to C2 that day, but the late start and bad snow meant that I'd have a hard time getting there before dark even if I wasn't tired. Problem is that my sleeping bag and down jacket were up there. So I borrowed Olivier's down jacket, put on my down pants, wrapped my feet in my polarguard pants. and went to bed at C1. In the end, I was too hot. Jamie and I both lacked silverware (at C2 again) so we improvise there as well. I eat my usual freeze dried stuff while Jamie cooks noodles and sausage, which smells real good. Amazingly, this is the only night on the mountain that I slept in the same tent with another person!
Camp 1 on Broad Peak, looking towards Concordia. © 2004 Mike Farris
July 20. Jamie and I wake slowly-there's no hurry as we're only going to C2. Jamie passes gas that smells exactly like the sausage he ate last night, a rude wakeup. A bit of breakfast leads to some more lounging until 8:15, when I begin packing. Jamie forgot his harness, so he'll wait for it to be brought up by Malte (who's doing the BC-C2 run today). Ibrahim, Amanda's porter, shows up, a good effort from BC.
The route from Camp 1 to Camp 2 and above. Camp 1 is out of sight at the lower left, Camp 2 is at the base of the tracks near the top of the photo. Total elevation change in the photo is about 2,000 ft. © 2004 Mike Farris
Ibrahim and I take off a bit after 8:30 on an arduous climb to C2. Much new snow, no tracks, and I'm in the lead again. Without the fixed rope, this would have been a serious climb. We get to C2 (6100m/20,000ft) to join Amanda, who has been up here alone for a couple of days. The weather is crap (more snow and wind) and we fuss about who gets what tent. One tent will confortably sleep two (but is full of stored gear); one tent sleeps one; one sleeps three but in on a platform in the middle of a snow slope. The French arrive-they were thinking of staying in C1-so I set up my little tent. Luckily I pound in a couple of snow stakes for anchors, because the wind starts to really blow. This is the first nasty wind my superlight tent has seen, and I'm finally getting a bit scared-there's a thousand-foot drop about two feet downwind of my tent. If the tent self-destructs I might not have time to react. So I collapse the tent poles and open the door, filling the tent with wind-driven snow. I slide down to Jamie and Amanda's tent and yell for them to make room. They're not real pleased (nor would I be) but I slide in anyway.
Thirty minutes later the wind drops a bit and I repitch the tent. I clean out the snow. At dusk, it's calm and cold. I write in my diary and drift off to sleep.
July 21. Will this terrible weather never end? We've had strong winds, spindrift, snow, and fog since 5 am. Every bit of new snow will make conditions even worse up above. The sun peaks through occasionally, teasing us. I spend most of the day in the tent, paring down my pack to essentials only. Every ounce I save may make the difference between success and failure. I decide to take 3 days of food (plus a bit extra). At 6pm it's snowing steadily with little wind. The extra day probably helps my acclimitization; I haven't been any higher on the mountain than this. Gordon and Haruki come up, and the game of musical tents continues. Since there is no room at the inn, Jamie heads up into the mist for C2.5, but stays in another team's tent just above C2. It's lonely in my little tent, but at least I have a guaranteed place to stay.
July 22. Taqui (our high-altitude porter), Malte and I saddle up and head for C2.5 at 6700m (22,000 ft). The standard C3 is at 7000+m, and given the conditions and our acclimitazation we don't want to go that high in one day. Malte labors as we head up the slope above C2. Taqui and I pass him and Malte eventually heads back to C2. Taqui and I don't really benefit from the tracks of the False Canadian team and Jamie, who moved up ahead of us this morning. The route skirts a number of pinnacles, with a number of fixed ropes. Taqui and I each share the chores of going first. I can feel the altitude as we work to make steps that will hold our weight. Finally Taqui takes off up the hill (he's got to get back to C2). I find a rocky flat spot about the size of a coffee table and empty my bowels. The False Canadians descend out of the mist and we chat. They warn me about snow conditions on the slope above and head down the fixed rope.
Taqui in the mists 300 feet below Camp 2.5 (22,000 ft). Visibility is actually pretty good at the moment! © 2004 Mike Farris
Another 100 meters and the fixed rope ends, along with the visibility. For a while I can follow the tracks that the others left just a few minutes ago. Vaguely I can make out what looks like the sharp edge of the ridge 50 feet to my left, but everything else is a white, gauzey haze. Finally I'm stuck-no tracks, no visibility, no wands (bamboo tomato stakes are used to mark the trail). I know that Jamie is nearby, so I shout- but sound travels about 10 feet under these conditions. I wait 15 minutes (or so it seemed) and finally the mist parts and I see Jamie only about 100 feet above me. I fix his position and finish plowing upwards.
I was expecting to see a number of tents; instead, I see Jamie digging a hole. The tents have all been buried in an avalanche. Chris and Jurgen (the Austrian team in our base camp) have a crushed VE-25 tent under about 3 feet of snow and ice. The poles have been snapped like matchsticks. Jamie has spent 2 hours digging out the main body of the tent. Once I arrive, Jamie quickly excuses himself and scurries back to C2. I've lugged all of my summit gear up here, so I either lug it all back down or stay here in crappy weather. I opt to stay, even though there is obviously an avalanche slope lurking above. I figure that windslab has formed on the slope and that it would remain stable for the moment. I dig for another 2+ hours trying to rescue the tent, but finally give up and extract most of the gear, then pitch my tent on top. The hole should provide some protection in case of an avalanche. It snows and storms all night, with the strong southerly wind continuing to howl. I'm snug in my tent, cut into the slope.
The route goes from the ridge (lower left) towards the rock buttress (lower right), close to Camp 3 (23,800 ft). The route then goes up (a lot more than it looks) and left to the obvious notch at 25,600 (7800m). Foreshortening is severe in this photo. © 2004 Mike Farris
July 23. Alone at Camp 2.5 at 22,000 ft. There is nobody higher on the hill, and the stormy weather continues. Late in the afternoon I look out and see a solitary figure approaching. Good, I'll have somebody to talk to. It turns out to be a single Russian. This fellow and his partner have become shadowy legends in just a few days. They are supposed to be climbing K2; it's unclear if they have permission to climb Broad Peak. They wander up and down the mountain, using whatever tents are handy. We were very worried that they were using our gas and/or food (didn't seem to be the case). Anyway, this guy shows up at C2.5 after Jamie explains that there are no open tents. He asks if he can sleep with me and I decline the honor (my tent is way too tiny). Finally he heads back down to C2 and I'm alone again for another night. The weather begins to clear that evening and it's finally calm and quiet as I drift to sleep.
Our intermediate camp at 23,000 feet. Masherbrum is the big peak in the background. © 2004 Mike Farris