{"id":16961,"date":"2013-09-18T00:40:21","date_gmt":"2013-09-18T06:40:21","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.alanarnette.com\/blog\/?p=16961"},"modified":"2013-09-18T00:46:15","modified_gmt":"2013-09-18T06:46:15","slug":"manaslu-2013-dramatic-changes","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.alanarnette.com\/blog\/2013\/09\/18\/manaslu-2013-dramatic-changes\/","title":{"rendered":"Manaslu 2013 – Dramatic Changes"},"content":{"rendered":"

The thin white nylon rope snaked straight up, the footpath went directly
\nahead rounding an icy corner before gaining elevation. I looked around
\nfor guidance on the route to Camp 2 on Manaslu but found myself alone;
\nno teammates, Sherpas, guides from other teams – no one around. I was
\nalone and needed to continue climbing this 8th highest peak on Earth.<\/p>\n

Manaslu is a different mountain in 2013. The low snowfall has left the
\nprevious route fraught with crevasses. The fixed line from last year is
\ndrawn tight a hundred feet in the air with aluminum pickets swinging in
\nthe wind. Movement of the glacier and snow had changed what was known.
\nThe Sherpas had to work very hard to find a new route through a
\nlabyrinth of house sized ice blocks, frozen icy walls and steep snow
\nslopes between Camps 1 and 2. This section is known as the technical
\ncrux of the normal route and it was living up to its reputation. Even
\nlong time Sherpas shook their head in amazement at the difference in the
\nroute this year.<\/p>\n

As I looked at my options, I choose to follow the rope. The footpath
\nended on a thin sheet of ice creating a deadly snow bridge over a
\nbottomless crevasse. The gully was a better option. The climb was steep,
\nperhaps 60 degrees which in climbing terms is steep. The snow was
\nalready mushy at 10AM this morning.<\/p>\n

We were one of the first teams to do an acclimatization rotation to Camp
\n2 so there were no steps kicked into the narrow gully. I took my jumar
\noff my harness and attached it to the rope as I simultaneously kicked
\nthe front points of my crampons into whatever I could gain on
\nthis narrow, one hundred foot tall snow gully. I kept my 70cm, long
\nhandled ice axe out using it as another grip. I wished for my two short
\nhandled axes I used back in Colorado for ice climbing.<\/p>\n

Step by step I gained elevation, my breathing increasing as I was
\nquickly passing 20,000 foot in attitude. My pack was loaded with my down
\nsuit, sleeping bag, pads, food and water. It was a load that emphasized
\nthat I had taken the right approach to training the previous six months
\nby climbing my 14ers with 30 to 40 pound packs. As I crested the top of
\nthe gully, I paused and looked behind. I wondered how it would feel in a
\nweek or so when we returned for the summit climb.<\/p>\n

The route continued in a teasing series of steep up-climbs followed by a
\nbrief plateau. The route switchbacked painfully, showing no mercy. More
\nshorter gullies required a repeat of the initial “bottleneck” section in
\nthis area often called the Hourglass. In what had taken three hours in
\nprevious years was taking climbers five, six even eight hours in 2013.<\/p>\n

I settled into my 8000 meter pace trying to find a steady rhythm, a pace
\nthat made progress but did not tax my cardio beyond its capacity. My
\nmind went into a place between subtle awareness and a subconscious
\nautopilot. The clouds formed quickly then dissipated bringing out a
\nharsh sun that told me to take off my shell jacket. But just as quickly
\nthey returned along with a slight breeze that made me glad I had it on.<\/p>\n

I followed the rope, clipping in with my carabiner as I hopped over
\ncountless crevasses of varying widths. I was climbing this mountain, not
\nhiking. It felt good. It felt real.<\/p>\n

Climbers from various teams spotted the white mountainside ahead and
\nbehind me now. I lost track of my five teammates. As I took a break to
\nfinish off my one liter of water, I looked around. The view revealed
\nhigh Himalayan mountains in all directions. Snow covered, sharp summits,
\nlong ridges; the variety of mountains offered so many more climbing
\nchallenges than this one popular peak. Many climbers were using Manaslu
\nas a warmup for Everest. In many ways, this section was more difficult
\nthan anything they would experience on the world’s highest peak.<\/p>\n

Once again I crested a slope but this time was greeted by a single
\nyellow tent, a classic, a Bibler. I went past it to gain yet another
\ncrest but this time saw more tents – a pair of lines with 20 tents in
\nall. They belonged to Himex. Ours was on a ridge slightly higher
\nrevealing an unobstructed view of Manaslu’s South Pinnacle and the route
\nto the higher camps – three and four – the route to the summit.<\/p>\n

I dropped my pack heavily on the snow. Phil Crampton greeted me. Paul
\nwas already there. It had taken me five hours. I felt good as I sat on
\nmy pack to remove my crampons. Phil congratulated me as Paul had made a
\nbrew to replenish my empty bottle. I returned the favor for my following
\nteammates a bit later in the afternoon.<\/p>\n

Phil then gave an ominous warning. “Do not walk around here in your boot
\nliners. It is icy at night and if you slip you will fall into that
\ncrevasse.” He said pointing downslope to a huge open crack nestled
\nbetween steep snow covered walls. “There is a body in the crevasse from
\nlast years avalanche.” He paused and stared.<\/p>\n

The next two nights went slowly as my body reacted to the reduced oxygen
\ncontent. I shared a tent with PK. We took turns melting snow to
\nrehydrate meals, for hot drinks or just simple drinking water. Each pot
\ntook over 30 minutes to melt at this altitude.<\/p>\n

Around sunrise and sunset the winds would pick up. The midday heat
\ninside, and outside, the tent was tortuous. There was no escape, the
\nonly choice was to strip to the bare essentials, sip water and stick a
\nbare foot or hand outside the tent into the cold snow.<\/p>\n

With the sunset, a welcome cold enveloped the tent. Down jackets went
\non, and socked covered feet into the warm sleeping backs. Wool knit hats
\nprotected our heads. With an unexpected urgency, the tent walls
\ncollapsed against our bodies. The tent began to take on a life of its
\nown as it breathed in and out. The wind was stressing the design of tent
\nat 21,000 feet. Billowing in and out we lay quietly in the tent watching
\nthe movement. The roar of a nearby avalanche subsumed the roar of the
\nwind. The mountain was alive.<\/p>\n

Just as quickly as it started, the wind stopped. The jet stream was
\nnearby creating microburst, tiny weather events not found elsewhere on
\nthe mountain – random and violent.<\/p>\n

PK picked up a where he left off with one of his stories. He served 25
\nyears as a California prison guard and had entertained our team for
\nweeks now with stories not to be believed. Just then I heard. “Alan,
\nAlan Alan!” It was Louis in the next tent. “Can we borrow your stove?”
\nWe had just finished our brew for the night and they were having
\nproblems with theirs. He gingerly walked over, sticking a down covered
\narm into the vestibule to take our stove. He and Paul in one tent, PK
\nand I in the next, Phil and Dan one over and Sherpas Tarkey and Dorge in
\nthe last. Our small team was at Camp 2 working feverishly to make red
\nblood cells required for the summit push.<\/p>\n

Now back at Base Camp, we are monitoring the weather forecast.
\nPrecipitation is expected in a few days, so the game begins to push to
\nbeat it or to wait for another window. Time is on our side but with such
\ngood weather this year, everyone is eager to get up and back down as
\nsoon as possible. We know winter is around the corner and once it starts
\non these extreme mountains, the climbing season is often over.<\/p>\n

We pass the time reading, talking, visiting with other teams, comparing
\nnotes. Base Camp is now filled with climbers from around the world.
\nFamous ones climbing without Sherpa support or supplemental oxygen but
\nusing the fixed lines, ladders and routes put in by the commercial
\nteam’s Sherpas.<\/p>\n

Commercial teams like ours follow well known formulas on Manaslu – climb
\nhigh, sleep low. Most climbers contribute a small sum of $100 to pay a
\nbonus to the Sherpas who fix the lines above Base Camp. Then there are a
\nfew teams who use the resources but do not pay, for some reason they
\nfeel justified in following their own set of rules.<\/p>\n

The atmosphere is light. People smile, laugh easily; shaking hands with
\na genuine appreciation for our common goal. I have been humbled to be
\nrecognized on the mountain from my website. But most of all, was
\nacknowledged for my work on Alzheimer’s through climbing by one European
\nteam leaders. We compared notes on our experiences of this disease and
\nagreed that more needs to be done: research, awareness and for caregivers.<\/p>\n

So while Manaslu presents us with a challenging season, life goes on at
\nhome. Families are desperately missed. We drift off to sleep each night
\nwith thoughts of those who mean the most to each of us in life. We are
\nhere on our own journey ing inward goals but recognize the sacrifice
\nand support of those around us who make this possible.<\/p>\n

Climb On!
\nAlan
\nMemories are Everything<\/p>\n

\"\" <\/a><\/p>\n

\n<\/div>\n

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