Page 17 - 2015 AMA Autumn

zag of the slow ascent I alternate hands in pockets to try and keep the blood flowing. It’s no good, I’ve lost the battle. I stop, breaking the walking rhythm and pull out the big down over mitts. I apologise to my partner for the delay and continue, now restricted to wearing technical oven gloves.
We cross a small crevasse and enter onto a long exposed ridge. It’s still dark and the wind has picked up. My face feels the biting wind and tingles with pins and needles. It’s a battle with the elements, the wind parries with an icy blast, I repost with a balaclava pulled up over my nose. My toes are painfully cold, the elements are definitely wining.
A glimmer of hope appears on the skyline as the sky begins to turn from black to a light turquoise. We continue to climb.
There’s a certain hypnotic rhythm to high altitude climbing. It’s the challenge of keeping the ascent fast enough to avoid descending on soft snow in blazing sunlight verses inducing a heart attack from the thin air and generally working too hard for the conditions. I’m pleased to say I’m winning. The mountain and elements today are letting me ascend.
There’s a definite light blue haze over to east. The sun will soon be here. My feet are still cold, stomping and wiggling my toes seems to help a little. I wonder whether it’s worth buying a set of double boots for future trips?
Ahead a rope team has stopped on a small col. We catch up and have a brief chat about progress. They’ve decided to head down. Their feet and hands are cold, the descent down a rock ridge is tricky having taken a party of six Chilean climbers a few years before. Small metal crosses on the ridge mark the fatal incident.
The rope team’s decision is a difficult one having spent so much effort to get to the col, a mere 300 m from the summit. Everyone is responsible for their own safety
and the summit is only the half way point. Most incidents occur on the descent and that collection of small metal crosses far below is a stark reminder for getting it wrong. The group descends wishing us luck for our summit push.
There are only two teams in front of us now. It’s getting lighter and we can switch off our head torches. The rising sun gives us hope and lifts our spirits as we continue higher. We meet another team descending, their smiling faces confirming we’re not far from the summit, “No esta lejos”. Spanish for not much further, I hope so.
The ridge line in front curves slowly away, a severe drop to the right. The angle eases and I can see a small party atop a small dome not far away. The walking angle levels out and I realise we’ve reached the summit, elation, joy and big smiles.
Why do we do this? Endure the early morning starts, cold hands and feet, urinating into empty bottles, feeling tired, headaches, upset stomachs and strange foods. It certainly isn’t just to reach the summit of distant mountain. That’s just a bonus. I guess it’s the friendships you make on the journey to the summit, your fellow climbers. Some were friends before you started, others have become friends along the way. Meeting guides, porters and cooks and sharing a love of the mountains which transcends all language barriers. Why do we choose to put ourselves into such places when there are easier, warmer alternatives out there. For me, it’s the privilege of being in a special almost spiritual place that requires all that effort and self determination to be there.
The glory of the summit is taken in with relief, elation and summit selfies. As much as I’d like to be able to stay and soak in the majestic views and sheer grander of the Illimani summit we must descend.
The return journey goes by so quickly with flashes of the ascent in reverse. There was the col we stopped at. It seems not that far
from the summit now. My legs are feeling the day, trying to keep a steady pace and not trip over my crampons or catch a gaiter.
We break before the final ridge descent, take in some water and food from our pockets. My water bottle has blocks of ice floating inside and one large piece inside the neck. The water has a sharp, clear quality from the coldness. It saps some of the warmth from my core but gives me energy. Time to descend the final leg, the metal crosses nearby haunting us of the consequences of a mistake.
We enter onto the high glacier camp for hearty greetings and congratulations. Tales are swapped of the ascent and epics of defeat for some.
Although the legs are tired my body feels strong with the lower altitude and warmth of the sun. The day is not yet over as tents need to be dropped and kit packed ready for the afternoon descent to base camp. Another long walk. Why am I doing this again?
Ex Altiplano Tiger was organised by Major Al Mason, AGC (ETS). The expedition was conducted in Bolivia in June 2015 and was aimed at introducing soldiers to high altitude climbing. The majority of the team as a minimum standard had a Winter Mountaineering Proficiency qualification and very little experience of alpinism or overseas travel to developing countries. The team used High Earth Climbing Expeditions based in La Paz for all travel, guide, Portering and catering require- ments. The team successful summited the following:
Condoriri Region
Point Austria 5300m
Pyramid Blanca 5300m
Alpamayo 5400m
Illusion (5330m)
Mirador Peak (5325m)
Huayna Potosai via the normal route 6088m
And finally,
Illimani via the Normal route 6438m
4 old blokes at the summit of Illimani 3 being reservists
ARMY MOUNTAINEER 15