Nine days after leaving Kathmandu,
we established base camp. We found a perfect little sandy bench on which to
spread our 5 sleeping tents and the larger kitchen, dining and storage tents.
This little bit of paradise, facing south and capturing the sun's warmth from 8
a.m. to 5:30 p.m., is just 50 feet above the Barun
River, and 11,000 feet below Makalu's summit.
No one has ever camped here. This sense of the remote seems
to be a theme for the expedition. On the trek, we only saw 14 other
travelers.
This is in great contrast to the popular treks, like the trek to Everest
Base
Camp, which tens of thousands of trekkers and climbers will visit this
year. Makalu is just too remote and the trail is too difficult.
We were lucky, the road was just extended as far as the village of
Chinchilla, saving us two days of hot
and dusty trekking. Our gear was hauled up that road by a farm tractor,
dragging a home-made trailer. We sat in a the back of a low torque
Indian Jeep,
manufactured specifically for steep, rutted, and sometimes slippery
roads like
this one being carved into the Himalaya. The seats were slats of wood
and grab
bars were squeezed tightly or you'd be bounced out the back.
Once we crawled out of the jeep, choking on red dust, the
trek unfolded itself as a series of vistas and villages, each more
interesting
than the last. We passed a long afternoon, with monsoon like rains, in
the village of Num. In the grassy strip below the window
of our tea house, a family of chickens foraged and children played,
until the
rain turned to hail. Like clockwork for the last ten days, these
afternoon
thunderstorms, more violent (with hail and lightning) until 11,000 feet,
eventually turned to short lived snow storms, barely dusting the ground.
We
should be storm bound again this afternoon, this storm cycle seeming to
be
without end.
From Num we dropped to the lowest point on the trek, a
swinging bridge over the Arun
River (at 1600 feet above
sea level). From that bridge Makalu's summit
is 26,000 feet above us.
The trail climbed steeply from there for 4 days, crossing a
handful of 14,000 foot passes, still buried in snow. A leopard, hunting
the
open ground between the passes, left a trail of footprints on the snow.
We never
saw that elusive animal, nor the red pandas that also live in this
National
Park. We did see rhododendron bushes and trees (yes 60 foot tall
rhododendron
trees with pink and fuchsia blooms). We also saw dozens of orchids,
ferns the
size of cars and at one point over 20,000 caterpillars crawling on every
rock.
In the lower elevations, the wildlife was the scariest. Leeches inhabit
the
jungle slopes, and one bloodsucker squirmed into Ashley's sock.
Injecting an
anti-coagulant into her skin it then sucked and sucked and sucked until
satisfied. The fattened leech took a long nap in the comfortable and
warm
woolen socks, digesting its first meal before it could start sucking
more
blood.
With a scream, Ashley discovered first the still bleeding
wound. Then she found leech. It quickly died. Smothered, and then
shriveled by
a pile of salt.
Other than the leech, a few of our team suffered minor
stomach bugs and all of us were gripped by an overwhelming feeling of
enthusiasm. The trekking was so beautiful, and so very different from
the treks
leading to the other 8000 meter peaks. We woke up early each day, hoping
to
capture the early morning light on the next twist of the trail. Jungle
became
birch forests which lead to pine forests and finally to the open alpine
tundra.
Frozen waterfalls, some over 2000 feet tall, hung to the valley walls.
Imagine
a Yosemite Valley, with its rock buttresses now capped by glaciated
peaks,
throw in the remoteness and you can start to imagine the beauty of the
upper Makalu trek. Every step sparked our imaginations and
inspired our appreciation for this opportunity.
And then we saw Makalu: a
tower of ice and rock, thrusting 13,000 feet above us. The first
impression is
like that of K2: we are going to die. It is
too big, too cold, too steep. The sense of the impossible stops your
heart,
then your feet. "Is it too late to turn back?"
And it is this feeling of confronting a challenge so
incredibly daunting that brings us back to the 8000 meter peaks. Stop in
your
tracks. Catch your breath. And remember that Makalu, like K2
or Everest, is climbed in manageable chunks.
It starts with a day dream, turned into a conversation with
your climbing partner. It becomes a plan, executed in simple stages: get
gear,
ship gear, trek to base camp, establish higher camps, stand on summit
and race
back home.
Our trip is off to a great start. Not only are we in Base
Camp, yesterday we established our Advanced Base Camp. It is now time to
enjoy
a brief rest (2 days). Then Marty and I
are headed back up, to recon our proposed route. It should take us about
5 days
to explore the possibilities, adapt to the altitude and to learn more
and more
about the moods and weaknesses of Makalu.
Hopefully she will show us the way to the summit.
