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->

Dispatch #6: Well, Here We Are, Then

The queue to descend the Gondogoro La.

We left Base Camp for our trip over the Gondogoro La. This is one of the 'Top Five Treks in the World' and I'd been over it two years before. It takes you down a different valley and is shorter as well. I thought we'd all agreed to take it easy on the trek down--three and a half days down, including two easy days at the end.

We left Base Camp on August 1, which was a bit of a surprise as the porters didn't arrive until that morning. I was carrying far more stuff than I wanted to carry; all of my photo gear, tripod, computer, plus a jacket and water and sundry other stuff. Close to 30 lbs. The major obstacle of the day was to cross the Abruzzi glacier. There was some fairly tricky climbing up and down the ice in running shoes, and the pack didn't help. After we got across the glacier (which took three or four hours), I slowed down and walked at my own pace.

We turned the corner and headed up the Vigne Glacier. I was now back on terrain I'd walked before. I followed the cairns up the moraine and knew I'd have to cross the (flat and easy) glacier to reach Ali Camp. Well, somehow I missed the actual turnoff. No problem, just turn right--I could see the camp in the distance. All was well until I hit a major glacial stream. Melting during the day produces a lot of water, and it collects in these streams. This one was about 6 feet wide and 2-3 feet deep--a real torrent. Crap. I assumed that if I walked upstream that I would find the crossing. Well, I walked and walked. I finally found a spot to cross with difficulty. As the light began to fade I finally made Ali Camp, about 90 minutes after the others.

August 2 turned into an exhausting day. We arose at 1AM for the crossing of the Gondogoro La. This meant the shouting (by staff) actually started about 11:30. After a miserable 'breakfast' we started out. My pack proved a curse as I moved slowly, along with our cook. However, I knew that we'd left too early and that speed meant arriving at the pass in the dark.

After crossing the glacier flats we started uphill. The pass has fixed ropes and steps cut by the local maintenance crew. Our cook, in the dark, didn't follow the best line to the ropes. A few feet shy of the ropes I heard a girlish scream and he disappeared down the slope. I wasn't worried (no danger) and was a bit glad he got a fright (we didn't really care much for him). He climbed up the right way and followed me up the ropes.

I arrived at the top at about 4:30, and others had been there for a while. We could see all four 8000m peaks on the Baltoro, but clouds hid some summits and the photo opportunities were poor. We worked our way down to the other side and found a long line of porters and hikers waiting to descend the fixed ropes.

The hard part is getting down from the pass. The first 1000 ft. are fixed rope down loose, steep rock and ice. The danger is getting hit by falling rock. I decided to wait for a while--just too many people--while the others went ahead. After an hour I started down, and in another hour I was down on the glacier. One more hour through some rock, grass, and flowers let to Xhuspang Camp.

I thought I only had a couple more hours to walk, but on arrival the other guys said they wanted to press on to Shaicho, probably seven hours ahead. This would save a day. I was not pleased because this violated our agreement--I wanted to enjoy the trip down! It turns out that our porters weren't provided with the food they needed and really did have to get down. So I put my head down and hiked. I did insist that a porter be hired to carry my pack as I knew it would crush my soul to carry the thing another seven hours.

Paul Kwakkenbos going down the glacier below Xhuspang (behind his head).

So I hiked. We were held up for an hour at a stream crossing. The glacial melting was immense and the river was about two feet higher than normal. Boulders and rocks were grinding, and the water level would surge by a foot from time to time.

Finally across, we trudged the last hour or so to Shaicho through a mini-sandstorm and down a ridge wooded with junipers/cedars and tree roses. I arrived at Shaicho Camp at 4:30, unhappy with the 15 hour day. The local 'restaurant' killed a couple of chickens and fixed french fries to accompany them.

The next morning we left for Hushe, the beginning of the road. After 2.5 hours I arrived (again with my pack), accompanied by a small horde of kids asking for stuff (and taking stuff off of my pack. I arrived in town and found our group.

We headed down the valley and stopped at Manchula Rest House for delicious fried chicken and french fries. Soon thereafter we stopped again for our 'real lunch' (don't ask...). We finally got to the K2 Motel in Skardu about 6:30pm.

August 4 was a 'rest day' in Skardu. I walked back and forth into town doing errands, nothing much special happened.

Landslides closed the Skardu road.

We left for Islamabad about 9am on Aug. 5. Little did we know what we were getting into. First, one member of our party who is enamoured with medications (I'll call him Dopey) took a cocktail of four pills to knock himself out. On a normal drive that might have been OK, but this wasn't a normal drive. The road was blocked in multiple places and we followed the road grader for hours. Finally we reached an impassible landslide. Our guide went ahead and scouted, then recommended that we turn back. So we did. Four more hours of driving and we were back in Skardu.

The Skardu road was impassible for days, requiring luggage to be carried around the blockage.

In the backdrop of all this tension, we had 'Dopey' with his eyes rolled back in his head, staggering around, falling in the mud, He was totally incapable of taking care of himself. The climbers, our guide, and our driver were disgusted. Of course 'Dopey' thought he was acting normally, telling us how proud we should be that he takes so few drugs! Typical junkie rationalization. This is the second time in three trips that this has happened to me. It's not my job to shepard a junkie back to Islamabad. What a pain in the ass.

It's now 10am August 6. We are probably going to sit for the day and wait for the roads to improve. But maybe not...This is Pakistan...I'll let you know in the last dispatch.

Cheers,
Mike