2004 Unclimbed China Expedition Updates

18 July 2004

www.summitfootprints goes live...

23 August 2004

The lesson we've learnt in the last few days is 'never think your completely sorted to far in advance'! There we were thinking we had everything organised and it was time to put our feet up, sip a few wines and wait to get on the plane. All the equipment and food etc had arrived from our wonderful sponsors and last Wednesday night our man in Lhasa finally came through with the permits (after 12 months of 'no problems-they'll be ready very soon'). What could possibly go wrong?? Thursday morning the Maoists blockaded Kathmandu. ARRRGGGHHHH!!

Nothing like bit of panic to spice up the days pre-departure. We've decided that being able to get from Kathmandu to Lhasa in a months time is sufficiently uncertain that we're not keen on the risk. So it's off to Chengdu instead. That involves major ticket rescheduling and lightening fast visa applications- not aided by a general collapse of the Lhasa telephone system which meant that our permits couldn't be faxed through as required. No worries- we get on the plane in five days time and get our passports back from the embassy in four (hopefully), I'm sure it will all come together before then. A little bit of hysterical giggling and a good farewell party seemed like the best response to it all.

Of course our problems are nothing compared the issues facing the Nepalese. We can only hope that it all resolves itself sooner rather than later.

25 September

Spitting Tacks but Moving On!

The 2004 NZ Unclimbed China Expedition

Hi from the MutchiValley. Our new plan is well and truly underway with a glorious basecamp established amongst the yak pastures yesterday afternoon. It was quite an adventure finding the correct valley in pea-soup fog with no-one knowing where we were supposed to be. Thank goodness for GPS technology! Our peaks Daddomain (6380m) and Longemain (6294m) remain a complete mystery, the only clue we have as to what they look like is a photo taken of the Daxue Shan area from several hundred kms away. The unknown adds a lot to the adventure but we are getting itchy for the weather to clear so we can see what we’ve let ourselves in for. It has been consistently cloudy since we started walking and last night we got 15cms of new snow.

The four day walk in to basecamp was fantastic with our team of 17-and-a-half horses (including the very cute foal), our ‘guide’, cook, and five local Tibetan horsemen. Those guys were hard as nails but wonderfully happy, warm and open. We had some great evenings together around the fire and it was sad to see them ride off into the snowstorm this morning. The guide and cook are a required part of climbing here, and what a great idea they are! We’ll never be able to go climbing by ourselves again. Sitting around basecamp like Lord Mucks being plyed with coffee and enormous plates of great food is proving remarkably easy to get used to! They are both great fun and Xaio mei is a student of Tibetan Buddism.

Hopefully tomorrow we’ll head up the Longemain valley and with any luck get a glimpse of our peaks. We’ve discovered that this area is in the GanziTibetanAutonomousPrefecture so we remain the Unclimbed Tibet expedition – just as well, we were having an identity crisis.

7th Oct

We had our prayers answered and woke this morning to a clear day and a very snowy scene, only the second we have experienced in the five weeks we have been in China! It was an excited Jo and Sean that threw a few bits and pieces in packs and headed off to see what Daddomain and Longemain hold in store.

We stomped 1000m up the ridge behind basecamp and were rewarded with fantastic views into the Longemain cirque. We fired off photos and gabbled excitedly about possible routes, problems and strategies.

Suffice to say that Longemain is an impressive beast with a huge, icecliff infested west face and a lengthy heavily corniced and very exposed ice-ridge from the col.  Dadomain is a little more elusive and hid it’s true summit from view but the summit ridge looks amazing, and bears a remarkable resemblance to the Grand Traverse on Aoraki -- only considerably longer and many kilometers higher! The key to both ridges will inevitably involve establishing a high camp on the col between at 5800m, gained from the neve via a very stiff looking climb through a rock band. In turn the neve is guarded by a vary nasty and active looking icefall…

We are immensely relieved that the peaks are aesthetically inspirational yet technically feasible from this Western side. We were more than a little worried that peaks were either going to be totally uninspiring “pavlovas” or death-on-a-stick ice-cliff nightmares from this side of the range.

If the weather stays clear tomorrow we will head up and try to find a route through the icefall.

Longamaine 6294m

13th Oct –Mutchi Gu, Basecamp 3870m

Hi all

We’re back enjoying the fleshpots of basecamp after four days up on Longemain. Walkmans, green grass, non-dehy food, and thick- oh so thick oxygenated air, take on a whole new meaning after even just a few days up high.

Five days ago we established an Advanced Basecamp up under the icefall at 4700m,although the term is a little grandiose for a rubbish bag full of crampons, iceaxes food and fuel. However we did spend a couple of nights there. From up close and in good weather, it became apparent that the icecliffs in the western cirque of Longemain were much more threatening than first thought. It is necessary for us to acclimatise on whichever route we attempt which means that we would have had to pass through the icefall and under all these cliffs four or five times. So, after much navel gazing and umming and ahhhing we have shifted our sights to Longemain’s SE ridge.

To access this ridge a  long coulior leads from the glacier up to a col at 5270m. This coulior is a nightmare of deep, loose snow over ice and rock and proved to be desperately hard work. Every evening thunder-storms sweep in from the Tibetan plateau and dump a huge amount of graupel/hail which sweeps down the coulior in a torrent of polystyrene balls and fills in our hard won footsteps. Every time up we will have to wade our way back to the col with fresh tracks. However, we now have a camp established in a beautiful spot on the col and feel like we have a real toehold on the mountain. It’s obvious though that Longemain won’t give up without a fight. In just four days we got hit by lightening, our stoves have completely clogged with bad fuel, and on the last night at Camp 1, the lighters we use to start our stoves decided that the altitude was all too much and refused to work. No dinner, no breakfast and, worst of all, no tea, makes Jo and Sean very grumpy indeed! There was nothing for it but to retreat to basecamp to celebrate Jo’s birthday. Hard work though it is, there is something special about discovering the intricacies of a mountain no one has attempted before

We’ll head back up after a couple of days enjoying fine food and basecamp luxury.

Jo and the Horseman

Daddomaine 6380m

20th Oct – Mutchi Gu, Basecamp 3870m

 Back down from up, with a wonderful unclimbed summit danced on (or at least shuffled on)!

We waved Leah off from basecamp on the 15th as she trotted off into the murky mist. She’s pretty tall and her pony about half her height so we were reassured that if the cantankerous looking beast got attitude she could probably just stand up…

Next day dawned somewhat reluctantly through the murk so we happily went back to our crappy novels, but a day later a Protestant sort of guilt wore us down and we heaved packs up to the glacier Camp 1 again. Vivid memories of unexpected afternoon lightening strikes on our previous carry stopped us early in the day with an uncertain conviction, but “acclimatization stop” or early onset “High Altitude Lethargic Excusaemia” is always a ready justification. Just as well we said the next day, as the initially promising cramponing up ‘Purgatory Gully’ gave way to high-angle knee-deep demoralizing crud.

Above our lightning-proofed Camp 2 snowcave the ridge was really very pleasant in an increasingly hypoxic sort of fashion. Small rock steps (diabolically loose, high angle-scree – reassuringly familiar for NZ climbers) and small ice-cliffs interspersed spectacular sections of sweeping ridgeline that contrasted most photogenically with the arid hills of the Tibetan Plateau behind. Camp 3 happily coincided with a need for tea and a “that’ll do ya” from the altimeters at 5800m. Sean was reluctantly persuaded of the benefits of another snowcave (freedom of artistic architectural expression, positive exercise benefit, lightning proofness etc). “Can’t believe I’m doing this” says Sean as he shovels another cubic meter of snow aside… “This is what students are for!” Only a few short gasping hours later we could luxuriate in another icy haven. Domestic bliss was ruined only by Jo incorporating a revolutionary innovation in snowcave interiors – an over-stove exhaust vent. Unfortunately this persistently covered Sean in spindrift and drips. Hours of entertainment were also to be had with a oxygen saturation monitor. Objective medical science occurred in a fiercely competitive environment, and, with a winning SaO2 of 69%, it was very temping to head for home on the basis of incompatibility with ongoing survival. In many hospitals this figure would automatically get you a room without a view in ICU.

Summit day was clear and cold and eventually a wavering line of steps was established (?gasped ?sobbed) through the lines of ‘shrunds’ and crevasses up to the summit ridge, where a magnificent view of Mt Gongga Shan was to be had. This stunningly beautiful sacred summit rises a bit more than a km or so above our peak and looks very K2ish – that is, definitely a peak for another weekend and more comprehensive insurance. From here the final summit slopes steepened in a series of ice-cliffs and ice-mushrooms. We found a cunning line of ramps though these up until the last 50m or so, when the final sustrugied wall seemed to completely block the route. It looked as if we were going to have to chop and hack our way up steep crap ice (tears of frustration and exhaustion were close) but fortunately Sean found a highly dodgy weakness of steep and loose snow and was prepared to lead it.

The summit was a fantastic windswept vista across the high plains of Tibet, the cloudy low lands of Sichuan and tantalizing fantastical spires somewhere to the south (bearings noted). We flew our prayer flags and stomped happily home to Camp 3 and down to basecamp the next day after a leisurely midday start. We’ve now a few days of pampering in BC – yummy Sichuan food, coffee, mahjong and yaks, and it’s getting perilous close to the point where we’re going to have to get off our backsides and have a look at Longemain’s bigger neighbor, the impressive 6380m Daddomain. Maybe tomorrow… More chai?

Sean in the Camp 2 snowcave on Longemain

31st Oct – Mutchi Gu, Basecamp 3870m

Sean’s slightly scruffy visage peered down at me while I glared up from my own little powder snow nightmare. It was steep and nasty and loose and the rocks sloped the wrong way and wouldn’t stay put, and the powder kept going down my gloves and I wasn’t having much fun.

“Having fun yet”, inquired Sean?

“Why do we always end up climbing on shite rock in crampons?” he goes on. “Homesickness”, I suggest…

It was day 2 of our ‘scree-slide from hell’ access route onto the West Ridge of Daddomaine, the very route we’d walked a considerable distance trying to suss out alternatives. There was one as it happened – a massive 1600 meter odd super-steep face with vast swathes of ice-flutings that saw the sun for about quarter of an hour each day (literally, we timed it). We’d been on something similar only bigger in Argentina only a few years ago and havn’t yet recovered from the experience, so here we were in “super-size-me Garbage Gully” instead… However, all good things come to an end and after a considerable amount of cursing and many near misses with falling rocky missiles we hauled ourselves onto the icy slopes of the West ridge. It was suddenly chilly, and the point of “hmmm a cup of tea would be nice about now” had long been reached when a convenient hole appeared – a wonderful ‘shrund’ opened invitingly amidst a whirl of icicles. A beautiful spot to call home!

Further up the steepening ridge we found no such pleasant shelter for Camp 3, more of an exposed ledge chopped out of the ridge at 5800m. A bitterly chilly spot with –14 degrees in the tent during the day… What with numb fingers and ice building up on the inside of the tiny tent from our frozen breath, it all made for exceedingly difficult early morning starts. So we didn’t. Surprise surprise for those who know Sean to be such a morning person?

Day 6, (summit attempt day) dawned clear and breezy. And cold. Really cold. Sean’s nose protruded from the tiny hole in the front of his sleeping bag and contemplated the world (and breakfast in particular since it was his turn). Breakfast is no small matter at altitude! Melting the water for the day, cooking the dehy spud mush and defrosting your digits while struggling with a recalcitrant stove takes about 2 hours! Hard to believe but most welcome as you snuggle back into the depths of your pit and snooze on blissfully.

Our route up the West ridge involved climbing up and over a subsidiary summit then traversing along it’s south-eastern face and then hopefully finding a way onto the true summit. The plan then became vague since we’d never been able to see the southern aspects of the true summit and we could only hope it was actually possible!

We eventually left our little yellow Summit Tent at a slightly more respectable hour of day than intended and committed our toenails to a long and steep slope above the tent. The subsidiary summit was gained by midday and found the traverse to be nicely icy rather than the high-angle powder we expected, which had our calves out crying soon enough as we teetered across on crampon front points.

By mid-afternoon we could at least see the summit – access looked reasonable enough with a series of icy couloirs heading up and round out of the wind but we looked at each other somewhat doubtfully. The wind was getting up, we were wearing everything we posessed and the short autumn day was getting on. Not to mention a touch of exhaustion, mild AMS symptoms and good old fashioned laziness… We made a turnaround time of 1600hrs and funnily enough that was exactly the time we eventually hauled our tired bodies onto a bitterly cold windswept summit.  A bleak place at that time the Daddomain summit, but pretty special to be the first to cavort (cautiously) on a 6380m summit with the Tibetan Plateau laid out at your feet.

Some hours later, as we descended the ice face above the camp the wind had settled and the last of the setting sun caught the face. We were enveloped in an indescribably beautiful, golden world. Our axes sent sparkling shards of ice tinkling down towards our tent and the world was laid out before us. It’s moments like these that make climbing worthwhile!

Sean flys Tibetan prayer flags on the summit of Longemain

Summit footprints Website Update- 6th November 2004

Well the expedition has more or less wound up now. We're back in Chengdu attempting to deal with the, literally, millions of people and back-wheel to back-wheel bicycles. We left basecamp on the 1st November, a pack-up aided by a hoard of over helpful children. Now as a few of you will know, Jo is very particular regarding how his equipment is packed away. The sight of a dozen kids all clamouring to stuff his carefully arranged piles into his bag at the same time was a great giggle.It was a wistful moment turning our backs on Longemain and Daddomain for the last time. They had>dominated our attention for the best part of five weeks, but with with lots of shouting, whistling and general hoo-haa, our wee pack-train of 12.5 horses, five Tibetan horse drivers and the four of us headed off down the valley, leaving our mountains to their solitude once again.

Six hours and a sore "Ass" later we rode quietly through the twisting, mystical forest in the mist and halted Mr Ed in front of the Gongga Monastary. 500 yrs old this incredible place feels like it hasn't changed at all in that time. A old wizened Lama leant out of a small upper-story, wooden window to check out the new arrivals standing in the fog and then with much clattering and banging wobbled down the stairs and lifted the huge wooden log that bars the inside of the door. We looked around nervously, wondering what lurked out in here in the cloud that required a bar that size to keep it out. Inside and out, the Monastary felt like a mediaeval time warp, but the Lama's made us feel very welcome, huddling around a smoky fireplace, feeding us yak-butter tea and Tsampa.

Wandering outside in the morning we were absolutely gob-smacked at the vista. Gongga Shan (7556m) reared above the Monastary like a frozen tsunami, an evil looking plume blowing from its summit. For the next few days Gongga was to hold us in its thrall. We never got sick of looking at it, searching for new lines, wanting to climb it and yet at the same time, wanting to not want to climb it. Funny thing with the mountains! We spent our time wandering around the Monastary and through the surrounding magical forests. It is the type of place where Unicorns would live and Nima, one of our horsemen, showed us around the many, many spots of Buddist mythology. It was a fantastic few days.

On the 5th Nov we left, feeling strangely calm and not a little sad to be going, and wandered down the track to the village of Xi Mei. Another wonderful night, our last, with the horse drivers, singing, dancing and arm wrestling. The next day we rode up and out of the Mutchi Gu valley and down to the village of Luiba and the road end. From the pass we waved good bye to the valley that had treated us so well and supplied us with a grand adventure. The peaks of the Daxue Shan hid behind their afternoon veil, although Gongga Shan stood above the cloud daring us to return. Maybe we will!!

Now we're out, we've got our head around the, somewhat confusing, political boundaries of this area. Although the Daxue Shan Range lies in the Ganzi Autonomous Tibetan Prefecture, it is not, in fact, in Tibet. It lies firmly in the far west of Sichuan although culturally, its appears to be  populated by Tibetan peoples. So this makes us officially the "2004 NZ Unclimbed China Expedition". All very confusing!