Day 11: Descending to base camp

Aug 22

4 min read

Updated: Aug 25

My sleep was deep and undisturbed. No climbers could leave through the night as the weather was still not safe enough to ascend to camp 2, so camp 1 remained still and quiet. I woke before my other team members, possibly due to the excitement of returning to base camp, coupled with hunger following the previous days exertion. I knew breakfast wasn't served until 8 but there would be hot water for tea in the dining tent, so I bundled up in all my layers and headed over.

A few climbers layered in down jackets and hats clutched teas, looking frustrated that the weather was preventing their progress and they remained incarcerated at camp 1. A Sherpa I'd shared a few smiles and waves with sat alone drinking tea and called over, "Morning sister!" and gestured for me to join him. His face was weathered, with dark wind burnt cheeks, a permanent sunglasses tan line and a friendly smile. He was 57 and had worked on 7000m and 8000m peaks across Nepal, Pakistan and Kyrgyzstan for 40 years. He began as a porter and now is a lead guide in Nepal. He'd lost count of his Everest ascents and every 8000m peak I named, he'd climbed it - pulling up photos on his phone of Annapurna, Makalu and Lhotse. What I find fascinating about Sherpas is they are in my opinion the most talented mountaineers in the world, their physiology perfectly adapted to environments where most of us would perish, but they don't show an ounce of ego or arrogance. I asked him about his experience on Lenin. "It's crazy sister, people come here and they don't know how to put on crampons. They go from Everest base camp trek to here and I teach them everything" he explained. "There are many accidents and deaths each year, people go without guides and get into trouble quickly. It's not a simple mountain, it's just cheap", he continued. He explained the various risks and what you can do, if anything, to mitigate them. There is a section of the mountain called the frying pan, a high-altitude ice plateau just short of camp 2. The snow walls trap and reflect intense solar radiation raising daytime temperatures which dramatically raises the risk of avalanches, shifting cravesses and serac collapses. You must clear this at night to minimse these risks as many fatal accidents occur here, including the 1990 enormous avalanche killing 43 climbers, on record as one of the worst mountaineering incidents in history. Our respective teams arrived and the camp bell sounded, indicating breakfast was served. I wished him good luck for his future climbs and in return he smiled saying,"You should return to Nepal, everyone is always welcome!"

Other than a few complaints of aches and poor sleep quality, the team were in good spirits. Alex and I ate breakfast while taking turns to list all the things we were excited for at base camp. "The cake, scary Russians, beanbags, camp beds with pillows, toilets", the list was endless. "I want to scrub camp 1 off my body", Alex shuddered. As we were late in the season, the squat toilets were rough here and in desperate need of being emptied. The smell was unbearable and the risk of illness when diarrhoea was so rife was inevitable, so many people choose to go behind rocks. Apparently, camp 2 and 3 are worse, you are literally pitching your tent next to frozen excrement. Roman entered the dining room and we cheered saying, "Morning boss, how are you?" We detected a glint of a smirk, was our endless enthusiasm and our mission to break through his hard exterior finally working? "The fast ones can go ahead alone today, you know the route. I stay with turtles", he stated and was met with laughter to which he began to smile. "We did it", I whispered to Alex! Patrick, Darren, Alex and I (otherwise known as the non- turtle members of the group) began the descent, retracing our steps back through the valley towards base camp.

A view back towards the summit of Yukhin peak

As it was morning and there had been little opportunity for snow melt, the river crossing was much safer and didn't require the assistance of a horse. We helped each other with Patrick and Darren pulling Alex and I over, ensuring no final disasters would ruin the success of the trip. We made quick progress, stopping occasionally for sugary snacks and to admire the glacier below. We ascended traveller's pass with ease, showing our bodies had fully acclimatised to the altitude. From here, base camp came into view and it was a beautiful sight! "Ahh look at all those facilities", I cried out. This boosted our motivation further and in no time we were back in our Russian military vehicle being driven the final 4km to camp.

The remainder of the evening was spent playing our favourite games of base camp commentary and who can get a scary Russian mountain man to smile. We sampled the local beer which the brand name translated to "golden goose" and had a picture of a mischievous goose on the front. We danced with Sherpas who marked the end of their climbing season. Their dancing ability competes with their climbing skills! Roman downed vodka after vodka with Sergei until he opened up to us, saying he only ever guides Russian people and it's different. "No smiles, no laughs. The briefings aren't funny like you make them", he explained. In his own Russian way, he'd warmed to us and said he enjoyed our positivity and jokes even though he initially did not understand how to deal with it. His style of guiding was unique indeed but comments such as, "make decision" and "you walk like turtles" were unforgettable and made him truly iconic. He had made the trip memorable, whether it be for the right reasons or not, it didn't matter. At around midnight, we crept back to our tents having thoroughly celebrated our adventure. We now were faced with the long journey back to Osh, then to Bishkek, then home.