Day 10: Yukhin peak

It was a long, cold night but I'd managed to remain warm and cosy. The first noise began at 2.30am where a Russian team and their Sherpas began their push to camp 2 on Lenin. The sounds of zips, harness attachments and intense discussion alternating with quiet apprehension filled the cold air. I briefly drifted back to sleep as they began their ascent, only to be woken by the same team at 5am. I later learned that they were forced to turn back due to the conditions; snow fall and extremely poor visibility. The route to camp 2 follows snowfields, glacial moraine and a complex ice fall scattered with hidden and open crevasses. These dangers coupled with poor visibility provide a recipe for disaster and I was glad the team had made the wise decision to turn back. The next discussions began at 6am, as another Yukhin peak team gathered and their Sherpa guides expressed concerns due to the weather conditions. I later discovered that the team had descended to base camp. So what did this mean for me? Would I also be turned back? The intrigue and apprehension surrounding the conditions denied me of any further rest, so I climbed out my the tent. I frantically shoved on all my layers and left the warm safe haven of my tent behind.

The first thing I noticed was the wind. Strong with an icy bite that attempted to cut through my endless layers. Then the snow. Floating at pace from heavy clouds and residing in my wild looking hair. The visibility was poor, making it impossible to see further than a few tents away. Being exposed to the morning's elements gave me an appreciation and understanding of all the decisions that were made throughout the night. So was this it? Would this be the end of the road for my adventure? Denied of a summit and sent back to base camp, to receive all the luxuries I had not earned. I struggled with this concept but equally understood and respected the risks. Sergei stood outside his tent, staring at the sky with a concerned expression. "What do you reckon?" I called over. "It's not good, not good at all. We wait for Roman" he replied.

I headed to the dining tent where Patrick and Darren had their plates piled up with pancakes and eggs. I asked them what they thought to the conditions. "It'll be rough, but that's what adventures are about. We can always turn back, but we have to at least try right", Patrick said positively. Roman entered, looking annoyed by the fact that he had to leave his tent and was being faced with a challenging decision. Ultimately, we didn't know the mountain and relied on our guide to make the safe decision. As disappointing as being turned around would be, if it was the right decision based on purely logical safety reasons and not a lack of will or motivation then I would make peace with it. "What do you reckon boss?" Darren addressed Roman. We explained other teams had descended and pointed at the worsening conditions. "What do you want to do?" Roman questioned. "You make decision", he continued. I summarised all our thoughts, explaining we wanted to give it a go but also wanted to ensure we weren't making a reckless decision and that safety was paramount. "We go then" Roman concluded. Not fully satisfied with the reasoning behind his decision or if he'd even allowed for any contemplation, I followed up "And we can rely on you to turn us back if higher up things are worse?" He nodded. A verbal confirmation would have relaxed me more, but I knew not to push. A few members of the group decided they didn't want to ascend any higher. A decision based on multiple factors; questioning why other teams had descended, exhaustion from illness and exertion to get to camp 1 and a potential lack of trust in the guides. Patrick, Darren, Alex and myself decided we'd give it a go. "Let's stick together, if any of us feel uncomfortable or not well or unsafe then we all turn back", Patrick suggested. We all agreed. We had grown close and trusted one another to take care of each other, more than we did our guide. We would use Roman as solely a navigational tool.

We left camp behind and our fellow team members along with a couple of Sherpas wished us good luck. Our names were placed in the camp log, so in case of emergency it would be clear to any rescue mission how many people were missing. Camp was thriving, full of all the climbers waiting for a weather window for their camp 2 push. The initial ascent was gentle and we moved slowly and purposefully, aiming to remain in control of our heart rates and breathing rates. Visibility was poor so we remained as a tight group with Roman ahead and Sergei behind. We had no idea of how long to expect for the ascent, the direction we were heading or the challenge we faced. "This is a ridiculous idea", Alex laughed. "We could be back at base camp on our bean bags, laughing at scary Russian men." We were told to "pause" as Roman fought the elements to light a cigarette. A little further into the ascent, we reached the snowline which slowed our pace further as we trudged through the pristine, white carpet.

Eventually we arrived at the most significant section of the climb. A series of switch backs heading into the dense clouds, an incline of around 35 degrees. Lined with rocks and snow, looking intimidating and brutal. At this point, the fear of altitude sickness had left my body. There were bigger challenges to consider. The steepness of the route, the weather conditions, the unknown distance or elevation gain. "Summit, this way. Steep, hard" Roman pointed into the sky. "Are you serious? You expect me to get up that, I'm sorry what?" Alex hysterically questioned the situation. Patrick and Darren offered reassurance and we ordered ourselves strategically in a boy, girl, boy, girl order in case we required their strength or assistance at any point. Roman had disappeared into the clouds saying "Follow." Patrick laughed saying, "If we lose him, we'll just follow the smell of cigarette smoke!" The ascent was repetitive and tough. Step, slip, regain balance, breathe and repeat. That beautiful, painful monotony of a summit climb. Your mind focused entirely on the task in hand, other thoughts are futile and energy draining. Every ounce of your being must cooperate to allow your body to keep going.

It was around 2 hours of the same brutal snow lined incline, the steepness did not relent. Surely we were approaching 5000m, I could sense it from the absence of oxygen. Every breath was becoming more of an effort and becoming less efficient in bringing fresh life to my muscles. But we persisted. Most importantly, we laughed and helped each other. We didn't let the poor visibility, the wind, the snow, the steepness phase us. We stuck together and aimlessly walked into the clouds. Roman came into view, perched casually on a rock with a cigarette hanging out his mouth. He offered no reassurance or information about how long the climb would continue and the clouds allowed the summit to remain elusive.

"This is our life now Amy! This is how it all ends", Alex dramatically shouted over the wind. I reassured her that tomorrow we'd be eating piles of cake and condensed milk in our bean bags while we played our favourite game of Base Camp commentary. "Look!" cried out Patrick, as he pointed to a small opening in the dense cloud. I stared upwards and in the distance I could make out the outline of a flag, flapping aggressively in the wind. It was far away but it was confirmation that there was actually an end goal, the summit was a reality and that was enough to spark a fire inside of me and renew my energy and desire for the summit. The final push was unforgiving. The snowy rock lined with an old tattered rope, that you can use to haul yourself up. The route was slippy, steep and it was difficult to breathe. But the flag was there, drawing me in and I was willing to overcome any obstacle I needed to get there. We clambered over a final sketchy section to arrive on the summit platform where a post read "Yukhin peak, 5130m." We collapsed onto each other, hugged and laughed and cried. Roman simply smoked and remained indifferent throughout. I said to Roman, "Are you proud of us?" I was determined to get some praise from this hard shell of a man. "You are in good physical condition. Put your thicker gloves on", he instructed. "Awww he's so caring and protective Amy, I just melted listening to that", Alex joked. Sergei joined us and we took photos on the summit before commencing the descent.

Anyone who's climbed to a steep summit will understand that behind the facade of elation is the fear of the descent. If it was that steep to ascend, how is that going to feel coming down? Roman suggested it was too dangerous to descend the same route, as it would be extremely slippy with a high chance of injury inducing falls. "There's another option", he explained. "We scree run down the other side." This was definitely the safer option, although the route looked intimidating, it was far less terrifying than the route we ascended. Roman went first and rapidly disappeared into the mist, offering limited instructions on technique. Patrick coached Alex on her technique, explaining to keep her weight back and dig her heels in. The slope was ridiculously steep and was a case of trusting the process, allowing a rhythm to form and remaining in control as much as possible. In no time, we were back in the snowfields wired on adrenaline with wide smiles and fast heartbeats.

It took a couple more hours of relatively relaxed hiking to return to camp, where the others waited and made us tea. We told them how wise it was to remain at camp, as we sipped tea allowing the adrenaline to dissipate. "We're not going to forget that any time soon, what an adventure", Patrick remarked. "I will happily forget that", Alex replied sarcastically. We piled our plates at dinner, no longer overly conscious about getting ill as the goal was completed. Roman provided a classic briefing; "Breakfast 8, descend 9" and then produced some A4 cardboard sheets that he placed on the table, sliding them in our direction. It was our certificates. "No ceremony", I said in a hearttbroken tone. "Is it because we were as slow as turtles?" Alex questioned. Roman almost formed a half smile as Alex and I took over, presenting Patrick and Darren with their certificates and dramatically shaking their hands.

The summit had been so much more than I dreamed off. Wild weather, a dash of adversity, challenging ascents, camaraderie and achievement. I couldn't have asked for more from Yukhin and as I lay in my sleeping bag protected from the cold night, I felt a glow of content entwined with pure relief wash over me.

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Approach to the summit

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Roman and Sergei on the summit