Yukshin Gardan Sar
- Karakoram, Pakistan -
…The rope is fully tensed. Matthew must have fallen in another crevasse. I hold my belay system diligently and kneel down in the soft fresh snow to better control the forces that are pulling me across the edge into a deep abyss. All around us the blizzard has completely engulfed the giant, jagged peaks of Shimshal valley, many of them over 7500m high. Visibility has been reduced to less than 20 meters. I feel so weak that I can barely manoeuvre the rope to rescue Matthew out of the ice tomb. The last 2 days have been particularly hard, as we had no chance to make water and prepare water. If it wasn’t for the towering seracs marking the crevasse edges, we would have been long dead. Where are we you may ask? It must be hell…
The Climb
In the summer of 2015, as part of a multidisciplinary project entitled the Karakoram Anomaly Project, Mathew Farrell and Sergiu Jiduc attempted to climb a remote and poorly explored 7000m+ peak in the Hispar – Muztagh Group, a sub range of the mighty Karakorum Range of Pakistan. Known as Yukshin Gardan Sar, the mountain measures 7530m above sea level and lies about 15 km northeast of Khunyang Chhish (7852m) and 5 km northwest of Kanjut Sar (7760m), - two other giants of the of this planet, barely missing the membership of the 8000m+ club. Yukshin Gardan Sar is flanked on the northwest by the Yazghil Glacier and on the northeast by the Yukshin Gardan Glacier, which both drain into the notorious Shimshal River.
Yukshin Garden Sar is a technically difficult mountain that had not been climbed since 1986. With only three small teams attempting their luck on the mountain it is fair to say that the peak is poorly documented in literature. In fact most peaks of Shimshal valley, have neither been climbed nor properly described. The route via the south face of Yukshin Gardan Sar that we attempted had never been climbed before and no information whatsoever was available about this face. Therefore our risk assessment was primarily based on Google Earth Maps and on site observations. It is worth mentioning that the sense of perspective in the Karakoram can change dramatically – the shear size of glacier features here is enormous and beyond anything we have ever seen.
Having already established a base camp on the western lateral moraine of Yukshin glacier, the next important leg of the mountaineering quest was to set up an advanced base camp (ABC) from which we could attempt several ascents up the extremely fragmented ice fall that was separating us from the col. The terrain was very complex, riddled with hanging seracs and menacing crevasses, but so remote as to make any hope of help impossible. No wonder no one has ever tried to climb this route.
In addition to the objective hazard posed by the nature of the glacier, the changing and unpredictable weather conditions and the extreme cold were not on our side especially in the high camps. Every big mountain constructs its own microclimate, which can be very unpredictable. Therefore, weather forecasts for big and remote mountains, are only 50% accurate, making decision-making quite difficult. Experience, and on-site observations as well as intuition play a major role in deciding whether to push forward or abandon a climb. We tried twice to reach the summit from camp 3 at 6400m. However, our contingency time ran out and so did our supplies. Two failed summit attempts due to the extreme cold (-35ᵒC) and high avalanche risk resulted in an overconsumption of our supplies. We decided to get off the mountain as soon as possible. On day 10 on the mountain we were in camp 2 (5800m) and here we realised that our gas was used up. This marked the moment where our situation became very problematic.
In addition, all around us the mountain was strongly expressing its presence with frequent rock and ice avalanches blasting from the rupture of hanging ice seracs and running down the south face barely missing us. To make matters worse the blizzard, which started during our summit attempts, was omnipresent.Not having enough gas to melt snow in order to make water and cook food was a huge problem especially since we were a long way from safety (2000m level difference to be precise). In addition we were experiencing whiteout conditions, and feeling exhausted and lost. The survival mission back to advance base camp took us 3 days and involved no water and food whatsoever, falling in dozens of crevasses, and dragging ourselves through fresh deep snow on possibly the worst glacier we have ever been on in our lives.
We even tried to call for a rescue helicopter from the military, but these issues take time, a commodity we could not afford at that time. However, in the end our strong motivation, good teamwork and luck pushed us to safety. We descended safely to ABC without being rescued by a helicopter. This was due to an inspired decision to cross the icefall laterally and enter the north face of the mountain where we found water and abseiled in a steep and gigantic gully using some 40+ rappels.
“He who climbs upon the highest mountains laughs at all tragedies, real or imaginary.”
— Friedrich Nietzsche
Fatigue is a moment of surrender. We are more aware of our surroundings; we feel rather than think and this leads into our first discovery, an icy couloir, carved into the vast, limestone north face of the mountain. Inside this gully, a voluptuous world made of calcium carbonate and hundreds of million years old little fossils. Long and sinuous, the gully has holes in its fabric and a white snow and blue ice cover. In its details, we see beauty that is the result of consequence. Everyone should be so lucky to witness such grace.
Why did we attempt this mountain? Nobody has been on it since 1986 when a Spanish team comprising Alejandro Arranz, Iñaki Aldaya, Alfredo Zabalza, and Tomás Miguel climbed it via the southwest ridge. In fact only three teams have ever attempted this mountain and no human being has ever set foot on the southeast face. A world first on this face sounded like an interesting mission.
However, Yukshin is a esthetically beautiful mountain! A rock and ice pyramid, almost perfectly symmetrical towering more than three and half kilometres above Yukshin glacier, it cuts the sky like Poseidon’s trident. Climbing this majestic peak would have been a great honour. We also appreciated the fact that the mountain is located in the valley where our scientific research was being carried out and thus an attempt to climb it meant easier logistics as we could avoid moving our camp to another valley.
Our real lives are a night sky, full of constellations. Everything we anticipated is only half of what happened; remote is a definition, not an emotion. Connecting to the endless is possible; out in the dark and in the wild is where we allow it. Packed up, listening for an engine, it was a lifetime ago that we were friends. Now we are a family whose only purpose is to keep moving. If we could, we would stay out here, forever. This is our real life. This is where we belong.
Lewin’s equation described human behaviour as a function of personality plus environment. It was the first theory of understanding human nature that gave importance to a person’s momentary situation, rather than relying entirely on the past. As humans, we have all encountered turning points, moments of decision-making that will affect the course of our lives, whether we recognize it in the moment or not. To be steadfast is to have known the weakest part of yourself and moved through that territory into an unwavering commitment. No one here is rough or raw. They are unshakable, tightly bound, like industrial cable that will not fray, meeting whatever happens with muscle and guts, humility and grit.
Read the full story in the Outdoor Journal!
My quest for beautiful lines up mountains where I find peace and clarity through intense mental focus where I can tune everything else out and just focus on that next step will continue. Risks are always calculated but there are moments when it just doesn’t feel right. Having a passion can be both a great uplifting thing and a curse.