Intro/route photo

Photo gallery of the trip

Trek timeline

1:Four beautiful words

2:The high Sahara

3:Base Camp at last

4:First foray on the mountain

5:A summit, finally-->

6:Well, here we are, then

7:Reflections

Dispatch #5: A Summit, Finally

July 29

On July 25, I reached the summit of Gasherbrum 2. It's taken a couple of days to get down, and a couple more days to get up the energy to write a short description. Last night I seemed to have more lyrical prose ready for this dispatch, but it must have been the Scotch.

First off, I should say that with the nearly perfect weather we've had this year, almost everyone who has tried to reach the summit has done so. G2 is maybe the second- or third-easiest of the 8000m peaks, so the technical problems don't exist that you find on other peaks. That being said, it's still one of the tallest peaks in the world and I'm happy to have climbed it.

After the snowstorm that dumped on us from July 13-16, the weather broke for the better again and everyone prepared to head up again. On the 17th I was struck by a bit of 'bad stomach' which left me without energy (and also a day behind everyone else). As a result I didn't head up the hill until July 19.

Lots of climbers heading to Camp 3 and Camp 4

A couple of days in Camp 1 while the weather remained ambiguous, a day or two in Camp 2, then decisions to make. I really wanted to make an attempt from C2 (6400m or 21,000 ft), but the chances of success were lower. In the end I opted to establish a Camp 3 (6900m or 22,600ft) and go from there. Rather than carry a single large load (20kg or 45 lb) from C2 to C3, I split it over two days. In the meantime, a number of Italian climbers on our permit reached the summit.

The route to Camp 3 went up some steepish snow.

Finally I was ready to go on July 25. I decided to leave between midnight and 2am (simply because I didn't have an alarm clock). I slept with my two base layers of clothes on and draped my sleeping bag over me. When I got up I only needed to put on my down pants and jacket, fasten my harness,drink a cup of hot chocolate, and go. At 1:30 when I left it was perfectly clear and surprisingly warm. Of course I was wrapped in down clothing from head to foot.

The route from C3 to C4 sucks. It used to be all snow, but now is mostly a ramp of gravel, festooned with multiple crappy ropes. In the middle of the night, at 23,000 feet, alone, on bad ropes--I guess this is what I came for! It was a relief to pull up into Camp 4 (7400m / 24,300 ft). Except that I had an acute attack of minor diarrhea, so getting the harness and down pants off in time was challenging.

The next 300m of ascent was snow plodding. I reached a bit of a plateau where I left my down gear, stove, and anything else I could think of to minimize weight. It was warm, perfectly clear, and with no wind. Another 100m up snow took me to the base of the final long snow slope to the summit.

Spanish climber at 7700m on Gasherbrum II. Krystof Wielicki (POL), unknown Pole, and the Spaniard who fell are descending above.

And here the fun started. I'm at 7700m / 25,300 ft. The track goes up the slope above in a wide zig-zag, first right, then left, then right again. To the right one can see far into China. Two people are sitting at the first zig, one is below me, and one at the top left. I'm plodding up to the right when I see a red flash above. The top climber (Spanish) had fallen and was pinwheeling down the slope. I stared directly into his eyes as he spun by only feet away from me, he protecting his head and I realizing that I was absolutely unable to help. Amazingly he landed on the only level patch of snow in the whole area. I yelled to his partner below to come up, and all of us converged on the groaning climber, afraid of what we would find.

He was alive, but for how long? He was conscious, could move his limbs, but very quickly it was clear that he had a sore neck and was having trouble staying awake. The two other climbers were Poles, including the leader Krystiof W. (sorry I don't have his spelling correct). He yelled, "Here you go again, Mike, another rescue at 7700m." Last year I helped rescue his business partner Artur off of Broad Peak.

Diagram from the top of the summit ridge (~8020m), showing the area of the fall. Climber: Nick Rice.

We had no rope, tents, or stretcher. If the fallen climber had serious injuries he was dead. I was afraid of skull/neck fractures, brain trauma, or internal bleeding. Krystiof got on the radio and had a tent, sleeping bags, and doctor sent up from Camp 4. The uninjured Spaniard was on the radio with his doctor. It was about 1pm when the Poles descended. Should I stay with the Spaniards, go down, or go up? I told the victim's companion that there was nothing we could do (medically speaking)--his friend could die in an instant or could just as easily be OK. So I would go on to the summit and stop on the way back and aid as needed. Was that ethical? Even a skilled physician would only be able to describe what happened to the poor guy if he had internal injuries. Helpless in the face of a perfect day, I went one.

The remainder of the climb up the snow was in a well-packed track, the snow almost perfect in its hardness. There were no ropes (the Koreans had removed their ropes, but not all of their trash). Then there were ropes so I clipped in. There was one curious rope, very cheap-looking. I finally saw that the sheath was gone and I was hanginig on the inner core only! Noting that fact with the disinterest that high altitude brings, I kept going.

I finally reached the top of this slope, expecting to find a longish summit ridge. To my surpise I peaked over and saw that it was less than 100m to the summit! I walking along the path below the knife-edge ridge and popped up to the summit at the criminally-late hour of 3:45pm.

A few minutes later another climber appeared on the ridge. As I thought, it was Nick, whose aversion to dark starts carried through to summit day. He almost caught me due to the time spent with the Spaniard. It was cool and breezy in our light clothing, but the views were astounding (sorry, but I'll post photos soon). All major peaks were visible. We each made a quick phone call home (thanks to Nick) and headed down.

Spanish climber at 7700m on Gasherbrum II. Krystof Wielicki (POL), unknown Pole, and the Spaniard who fell are descending above.

I stopped a the 'rescue tent' and the victim looked much better. Still lacking anything in particular to contribute, I headed down at an easy pace, picked up my gear, and passed through a cold and windy Camp 4. The descent down the crap rock was accomplished with sparks (from my crampons) and curses as I hung on the frayed ropes. I managed to pull into Camp 3 about 9pm, after dark but only by an hour. Along with seemingly half of Europe, I'd summitted Gasherbrum 2. And I was the first American of the season by a whole 15 minutes.

Broad Peak and K2 from the summit of Gasherbrum II.

Cheers,
Mike

P.S. The Spaniard descended with the help of his teammates and was flown off to Skardu. You certainly know more about his current state than I do. I'm very happy that he survived his fall with so few injuries. The Polish team deserves all credit for getting resources to 7700m as fast as possible.