Page 17 - AMA Summer 2024

It was now daylight; we were on the upper snowfield and the exposure was a mind boggling 3000m drop to the glacier. The slope was a hard-packed wind slab with patches of soft snow. I was not happy with the avalanche risk. My first gut feeling was that it was extremely unstable and there was a 50% chance it would slide. I contemplated backing off. I always remind myself, no mountain is worth a life, returning is success and the summit is only a bonus. There are times when you have to push the risk level more so I dug an inspection pit, reassessed the slope and reckoned there was only a 10% chance it would avalanche. I let Pasang know I was prepared to accept this risk level and he followed me across the slope to the final steep 50m snow couloir which leads to the summit ridge.
By 9.30am I was warm enough to strip off my down suit. With no wind and the bright sun, it could have passed for a pleasant Alpine day but by 11am, the wind began to rise, signalling a change and I had to put my down suit back on. About 12 o’clock, we emerged out of the couloir onto the bare rocky summit ridge. As if to quash any rising sense of triumph, there was a body laid flat on the rock. I gazed at the well-preserved still clothed corpse. He was wearing his crampons and just lying there on his back as if sunbathing or resting and about to get up and climb on. It was certainly a grim, stark reminder of the seriousness of our situation.
There were only the two of us on Dhaulagiri, alone and with no one to help us. The Jet Stream winds had blasted away the snow, exposing bare rock on the summit ridge at 8100m. Pasang followed me up to the summit, his crampons skittering on the rock, he got out two Buddhist prayer scarves and I took out my picture of Fiona and Jay, my daughter and grandson. I gazed across to Annapurna where I had stood on the summit two years earlier. Now, I just wanted to get down, leave this bleak summit. The wind was becoming stronger and clouds were building up.
In the next edition of Army Mountaineer, we take up Alan’s journey from the summit of Dhaulagiri, out of the death zone and on to his final summit, Kangchenjunga.
ALAN HINKES OBE
Alan Hinkes is the first Briton to climb the world’s 14 highest mountains and one of only 12 people alive to have achieved this feat. Many have perished attempting this challenge. He began his mountaineering career whilst at Northallerton Grammar School, North Yorkshire. He progressed to the Alps with ascents of many difficult mountains, including the notorious North Face of the Eiger, eventually graduating to the Himalaya.
He works as an outdoor equipment technical consultant, writes for magazines and lectures on his exploits. He is an accomplished cameraman (filming 11 documen- taries), photographer, author, motivational speaker, environmentalist and mountain guide. His book ‘8000 Metres, Climbing the World’s Highest Mountains’ won TGO Awards Outdoor Book of the Year.
Alan was awarded the OBE in the 2006 New Year’s Honours List. He is an Honorary Citizen of his home town, Northallerton, Yorkshireman of the Year, an Honorary Fellow of the University of Sunderland, Honorary Doctor of the University of York, Honorary Doctor of Professional Studies at the University of Teesside, and has received the Outstanding Achievement Award from the Royal Institute of Navigation and the President’s Award for Outstanding Voluntary Contribution to Water Aid. He is involved in charitable work including Water Aid, the Cystic Fibrosis Trust, Duke of Edinburgh’s Award, British Red Cross and Mountain Rescue.
Alan lives in North Yorkshire and enjoys being in the hills, rock climbing and fellwalking. You will regularly see him in the Lake District and Yorkshire tramping the fells and moors, clinging to a rock face or climbing a frozen waterfall.
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