Lost and found may 5

After 5 nights and 6 days on the mountain I am back at basecamp. When I woke up two days ago at camp 1,  buried in snow I knew there was no chance of climbing this mountain this year, with more cold wind and snow on the way.

I wrote my last farewell in case I didn’t make it down the icy snowy slabs, packed up camp one: encased myself in goretex, put on the boots and crampons and began the laboriously slow process of descent, not leaving until 1:00. JT and Rob were pinned down at camp two, not able to ascend or descend, I found out later. I made the treacherous descent down the slabs, rappelling on the icy fixed lines until they ended, then sliding and scraping the final 200 feet. I put on approach shies for the long delicate tedious walk through the boulder field. I could barely see from one cairn to the next, the entire mountain was in a cloud. My hope was to get to Rob’s beyond the boulderfield, or somehow find shelter in the collapsed tent at advanced base camp, or make it to the meadows where we had left a tent. Rob’s tent was gone, they had taken it up with them,  I could not find the advanced base camp because of the snow. So I set out for the meadows. It was very foggy and getting late, soon it would be dark. The fog cleared for a brief moment and I could see the ridge, an began the long walk down. Amazingly my feet were not cold even though my shoes were soaked. I prayed I would find the cairn that marked the turn off the ridge, which I did, I came to the cairn we called the tree because it was a large rock wrapped in a ribbon with a twig sticking out. I was on the steep slalom down, confident I would soon be at the meadows. But the fog grew into a snowstorm and I could not see the trail, footprints, or cairns. It was dark and I tried the headlamp which was almost useless in the blowing snow. I backtracked hoping to find a sign of the trail, and then just started walking off the ridge in the direction where I thought the meadows tent might be. I was lost, alone in a snowstorm at night in the Himalayas. I walked and found no tent, gradually the storm cleared and  I started a zig zag walk along the moraine looking for the meadow. After walking for an hour I started looking for places to camp. I found a relatively flat place next to a large rock. This was it. Every move could mean life or death, and I really wanted to accomplish my goal of returning with 10 fingers and 10 toes. Carefully and methodically. I made my preparations. Dry socks, feet inside inner climbing boot, clearing  of the snow (it was becoming very cold under a bright moon). Pumping up the sleeping pad, putting on the large down jacket, laying out the sleeping bag, getting in the bag with all layers on except the hard shell gortex which were draped over the bag. Then lighting the stove and melting snow, boiling water first for the water bottle that went in to the bottom of the bag, then to hydrate the dinner that would provide energy to shiver all night. I was encased in down, I prayed that skies would stay clear. I didn't know if people survived this kind of thing at this altitude. I wondered if those cries I thought were Himalayan wolves or jackals. I wondered if my last memory would be a Himalayan boulder field buried in snow, lit by cold moonlight. I had to stay very still in one position so as not to roll off the pad or disturb the architecture of sleeping layers; I even slept a little and woke to see a brightening sky. It was morning I was alive! a little lost but had survived the Himalayan night, it was not snowing, in a few hours the snow would reach my rock. It was a bright morning. I slowly defrosted everything, packed up and headed toward the ridge. What a gift. I was alive and happy about it. I found the trail (had walked right past the turnoff for the meadow) and decided to walk up to advanced base camp and retrieve my climbing tools and ice screws. Nima was there looking very concerned. He gave me lots of hot tang and almonds. I guess no one knew where I was and no one dared to venture out because of the snowstorm. So slowly I walked down to base camp, stopping to marvel at every rock and lichen, collecting bits of the mountain. .Rob and JT made it down from camp 2 after the storm cleared, but no one of us made it to the top. Now there is gear to be retrieved and packing to be done

a mosaic of lichens and stones, a path disappearing into the mists moving over the mountain like ghosts, I walk so slowly collecting bits of white and yellow stone, like in a dream,Chris passes by, my friend who brought me here, then Ram, the server, with a thermos of hot orange tang, like an angel, here, drink this, then takes my 60 pound pack, light as a feather and disappears down the trail as the yellow tents of heaven appear among the scattered white stones, I walk on flat stones across the river into the endless mist...

the lichen

the soup

the trail into the sky

the cairn

the tree

the ocean

campsite

 

There was an avalanche which blocked a river about 200kilometers northwest of the capital of Nepal (Katmandu). The flooding that  followed has brought tragedy. Many are killed, more are missing.