Rest Day
Trip Start
Mar 23, 2012
1
18
35
Trip End
Apr 22, 2012
Sughet Jangal Chinese Base Camp, Gilgit-Baltistan, Pakistan
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Hira and Bishnu went off on a recce to the camps further up the glacier. There was a flurry of activity after breakfast, when everyone decided to do their washing in the stream. I washed one item but saved up the rest for the quiet days to come. Wet clothes soon adorned every rock, bush and bit of line strung between tents. Some pitches looked like a giant game of cat's cradle.
Washing bodies seemed popular too - Simon, Rob, John L and others discovered what they called a plunge-pool. This bit of glacial melt-water had ice round the edge and Simon's thermometer registered it at 6C - a whopping 2C more than air temperature.
There was much whinnying and yelping and apparently shrinkage of manhood as they braved the cold water. Thankfully it was not visible from the main campsite. Naked bottoms from afar was quite enough. By all accounts Abdul jumped in too, wearing his long-johns for modesty.
Up above camp, a short, breathless distance uphill, was a loo-with-a-view. Someone, possibly even from Shipton's expedition in the '30s, had built a small wind-break wall next to a rock feature. There was a pit flanked with flat stones and some ingenious person had stuck a tent-peg as a loo-roll holder. There was even some fossilised toilet paper, which might indeed have dated to Shipton's day. The view over the Karakorum on all sides was fantastic.
Further over, above base camp, there were three piles of rocks. One had been left by the Japanese expedition. I could read 31/8/1982 and the symbols for Japan on the wooden plaque wired to the stones. Presumably that was the date the expedition left base camp. I assumed it was a memorial to Yukihiro Yanagisawa, who died on the 15th August 1982, on his way back down from the summit. The characters carved into the wood looked Chinese to me, but Akbar assured me it was Japanese.
The second pile of stones had an aluminium shovel hammered flat and attached to it. It was for the Russian climber Igor Benkin, who died high on the mountain in August 1996. You can read about the Russian expedition here.The third memorial had no plaque anymore. Akbar claimed it was a Dutch memorial, but I can find no evidence on the internet for a Dutch fatality on K2 at all, let alone on the north side. It seems more likely to have been built for the Spaniard who died of exhaustion in 1994 or three South Koreans swept away in an avalanche off the North Ridge in 2004. It was a lonely place to end up in; beautiful, but lonely.
Robin and Simon went for an explore further up the valley, where they found a glacier and another grave, and John L went up the hill to meet Hira and Bishnu coming back down. On the way down, John felt the call of nature and ducked down behind some rocks. Hira suddenly started yelling to him to get up. Two snow leopards were slinking away less than 200m from where he was crouched. By the time John had his trousers back on, the leopards had gone.
It was Annmarie's birthday, so I mentioned it to the chefs, Tendi and Abdul, whom I swore to secrecy. Actually, given that Tendi's first language is Nepali and Abdul's is Uygher and both of them thought I was saying "cigarette" instead of "secret", it is not surprising that it somehow leaked out. What is amazing is that they managed to create a wonderful coconut and meringue cake with chocolate topping in a desert at nigh on 4000m, on a two ring heater, and despite having no common language between them. I'm impressed.
During the afternoon I had another long chat with Akbar, who has a good sense of humour (when he isn't stressed). He was telling about his feisty two and a half year old, who beats up boys twice her age, and his younger daughter and baby son. It was good to learn a bit more about him and to discover more about his Uiger background.
We all dressed up for dinner - the theme was the Eton Boat Race or Henley Regatta. I'd brought a little black headband with a rose design as a token gesture, but I was totally outclassed by Chris's willow hand-made straw boater and David's cardboard one (plus paddle made from a walking pole). Kat had a silk sleeping-bag liner scarf and diamante ear-rings, whereas Mo had his liner as an excellent Arabic head-dress. It was tied on with bungee cords, which made him a little light headed! The piece de la resistance, however, had to be Charles (or should I say Charlene), who had turned his liner into a beautiful silk evening dress and wrapped his scarf at a jaunty angle round his woolly hat. He had some padding in appropriate places to complete the transformation. Well, when I say appropriate places, I mean they started off at the right height, but slipped as the evening wore on, until they were somewhere near his knees.
Undaunted, Charles had arranged a pub quiz. We were divided into three teams: we (Mo, Chris and Nigel) were the Axe and Cleaver, the others were the Beijing Arms and the Cock and Bull. Nigel was the go-to man for quiz questions. It was a good laugh and amazingly our team won a snickers bar each.
It was a late night for us all, as we didn't get to bed until about 9.30. Sleep, as usual, remained elusive. High altitude insomnia sucks.
Chinese Base Camp: 3900m.
