Tears of remembrance
So Plan B worked itself out, we made it up the pass, all the way to the top at 5,400m where there stands a tea room. Two weeks ago the tail end of cyclone hudhud blew through this pass, trapping hundreds of trekkers at high altitude - 5,400m is proper high - higher than Everest base camp, higher than even military helicopters can attempt any rescue. Those trapped at the tea house faced a decision - go with a guide who said he would lead them down the mountain, or stay put and succumb to certain altitude sickness and hypothermia. Those who went down the mountain perished, along with many others, 39 in total. Those that stayed put survived. Hundreds of others were rescued but face amputations (frostbite) or trauma. This hike I did to that tea house constantly remembering those that both perished and suffered in conditions that were unimaginable to us on a bright clear windless day, you were in my thoughts all day.
Tears of suffering
Its never going to compare to the suffering faced by those on this Pass two weeks ago but our suffering started a full 15 hours before we even set foot on the Pass. At 4,200m we arrived at Annapurna base camp, our accommodation was "basic" - mud floor, mud walls and a corrugated iron roof. By 2pm on Tuesday when the sun went behind the mountain it immediately got cold. Real proper cold. By 5pm the whole group was shivering even inside four seasons sleeping bags. It was so cold overnight (around -18 degrees) that the inside of the windows iced up. Up at 4am, still -18 degrees and into layer upon layer upon layer - I had two trousers, 5 shirts / jackets, two gloves, two hats.
When we hiked up to base camp on Wednesday and turned the final corner to face Thorung La I immediately knew there was no way I was going to reach the top, a trail zig zagged through the snow as far as the eye could see. I went for a 30 minute trip up the hill later on and that confirmed my view, way too tough for me, I've never trekked before, let alone up a mountain. But I said I would join the others for the 5amdeparture and just do an hour or so before turning back. Which turned into 2 hours and I was still going strong amid the most incredible beauty and tranquility. Experiencing sunrise whilst on the side of a snowy mountain is really really special, a magical moment. Then I found myself at the front of the group, and then it was just me out front on my own, alone with not a soul or sound (apart from a distant avalanche that rumbled across the valley...). And then the sun finally hit the trail and warmed bodies and souls and I knew even though I was only half way up that I was going to reach the top - and in doing so would be the first person over the top from our side of the pass that day - that felt pretty cool for a boy from the flatlands of cambridge.
I've been above 5,000m twice before and I know the suffering that follows - an hour of the most incredible sufferfest - a few steps forward, stop, catch breath, repeat times 1,000. Suffer Suffer Suffer. Repeat...
Tears of joy
Step by exhausting step the top got nearer. But so many false summits. I thought I was only 20 minutes away and stopped to chat to someone coming down after crossing from the other side. Nah, an hour still to go he said. That was annoying... But then later others were stopping and shaking my hand, telling me only one more false summit, a few more minutes and the tears of joy came, the summit was reached. An incredible experience and over the next hour or so all of the rest of the group also made it to the top and safely back down again, a joyous end to a tearful day.
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