K2: Floating on the Baltoro

baltoroWe’ve spent the last two days making our way towards K2 Base Camp along the Baltoro Glacier. Today we are camping at Goro 2, about 14, 000’. The weather continues to be mixed with rain showers and little sun. We are hearing reports from K2 Base Camp of snow.

Yesterday, I felt good and found myself in a swift pace and soon was separated from the team. A recent collapse of an ice wall on the Baltoro had forced a new route so instead of the normal six hours, we were looking at eight or more to reach Urdukas.

I approached the terminal moraine of the Baltoro and once again was impressed by the immense size of the rock wall and debris. Making steady progress higher, I soon was traversing the moraine proper following a faint trail of rocks and dirt, looking for anything not in nature’s random order.

I forced a steady pace with my mind switching between the trance that comes with trekking and the focus required not to twist an ankle on the loose rocks.

I followed an ever-present group of porters ferrying our team’s and other’s gear to the base camps of four of the 14 highest peaks on earth. They moved swiftly, with grace, not seeming to look for loose rocks, it was almost as if they floated.

Soon I found myself moving along with them, at their pace. In one short segment, I stopped looking at the rocks and focused on the moment. I was second behind a porter with a wooden frame holding a large blue plastic barrel, probably carrying food.

Behind me were four more porters. We moved in unison, almost touching; a fluid motion that was even, steady, poetic. Skipping from boulder to trail, from dirt to ice it was if we were one moving together, in one another’s footprint.

I was lost in the moment, not thinking about my pace, my breathing, my steps anything other than moving forward. I too was floating.

Then the lead porter suddenly stopped. He sat heavily on a large rock, resting his load against the stone. The others followed suit. I returned to reality and kept moving albeit at my own pace, once again looking at the trail, minding my steps. I was no longer floating.

As I navigated the Baltoro, I found myself alone, a bit lost in the rocky ruble, looking for signs, a hint, of which way to go. Then I would hear a whistle, a clear “Hello.” Looking around, a porter would point towards my interim milestone. I raised my hand in simple gratitude.

For 8 hours, this continued. I never felt alone, I always felt safe and every smile was retuned with a larger one.

Pulling into Urdukas, the sun came out for a little while, it was nice. I perched high on a rock buttress above camp. My view was astounding. The Baltoro stretched out behind and in front of me, towering rock walls soared two to three thousand feet above, glaciers poked their way from the high valleys defining the sharp edges of seeming impenetrable rock fortresses.

I was reminded of the power of the little things in life. The small water flow, a steady breeze, tiny grains of sand; all conspired to create what I was seeing. It made me think of how when we as individual become focused on making a difference, our joint efforts can redefine a fight. Alzheimer’s is such a struggle, it takes all of us, large or small, to join together to make a difference. Each effort counts, each effort matters.

Climb On!
Alan
Memories are Everything
#K2CureAlz

PS I am now tracking my progress on this page https://www.alanarnette.com/blog/k2-2014/

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13 thoughts on “K2: Floating on the Baltoro

  1. Alan, my family and I enjoyed meeting you in Austin and we are all talking about your presentation, your insight and your journey. Thank you for your boldness. We are all cheering for you.

  2. Stay safe out there! I hope we can find a cure for Alzheimer’s Disease, it’s a terrible disease to have that many people do not understand. Also, I hope you summit and come back safely from K2! Climb on!

  3. For the ones tracking the progress, happily noted that Alan has reached the far end of Concordia, as of 12:31 PM Pakistan time. Hope all is well, and hope to see today’s dispatch later. Trek on, guys, almost there !

  4. Allen. Your description of moving up to base camp is awesome ! I hope you are considering writing a book! I look forward every day to see what is happening Climb on and be safe!

  5. Hello Alan and friends. I have been following the progress keenly. And what gives me the most satisfaction is the fact that YES you have a bigger goal in life than most, but you have been blessed with an eye and a heart, for the little things in life.
    You can say that I have been waiting for someone to give due importance to the fine details that constitute THE PROCESS.
    I have been through almost the same, only I got the SHIGAR valley experience on my way back ( mud and rock torrent from the mountain of the Japanese ).
    So happy to see it all again through your words and lens.
    So looking forward to you and all the others making it to the top and back, safely, and wishing you all the best in the higher objectives, HIGHER than the mighty K2. Climb on………

  6. Hi Allan- reading your discription of the trek in to base camp was something I relate to but never could say it like you just did, Today I am going out to my 150 foot cliff on the Alberta Praire to get ready for Chopakalka. Your story will inspire me as I am training today. Thanks for sharing your life out there.. continue keeping on.

  7. Almost to base camp – wonderful progress, Alan! Your description of floating along caused me to remember the experience I shared with my brother as we navigated the high country of Yosemite a couple of years ago. It was a magical time and a precious memory. It sounds like all of your training has paid off and put you in optimal shape to reach your goal of summiting K2! I’m enjoying following along from home and, yes, I join you in your efforts to make a difference in reaching our shared goal of conquering Alzheimer’s – not just for ourselves, but for all who will follow. Continue to lead, and Climb On!

  8. Beautiful image–floating in harmony with the group.

    Best wishes,

    Jim

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