ELLIOT—DAY 15 Had a good rope skills clinic with Pete before our trip up the icefall, super happy to have his experience in the party since we have never been on a rope together before. The clinic was interrupted by me finding a lost-looking pika (a rabbit-like mountain dweller) in the gear annex of the dom. A rush ensued, as we had been without fresh meat for weeks. The hunt was more opportunistic than planned, and we spent a lot of time chasing the terrified pika around with ice tools until we had it cornered. Pete hastily improvised a spear with a ski pole, guide strap, and climbing knife and we put the poor creature out of its misery. Pete cleaned it. After four hours of slow boiling, the meat was still tough with the adrenaline of the poor pika, but surprisingly tasty. We later discovered that pikas carry bubonic plague and eating them is inadvisable. My turn next. I took a breath, then inched forward. Halfway, my rope went taught. Ryan had decided to clean the gear right as I was in the middle and forgot to give me slack. Those five seconds standing on that fucked piece of ice lasted an eternity. “Clean that shit later! Give me rope!” I made it across, shaking. After seven hours, we made it through the gnarliest icefall and found camp at the base of the coveted Dream Line—like something out of a Dr. Seuss story. This was it. We set up tents in the middle of the glacier surrounded by our alpine amphitheater. Weather coming in and we’re unsure if we’ll get a break to summit. RYAN—DAY 19 It’s still windy, but this morning the clouds dropped to be-come an ocean below the icefall. The sun was rising through the U-shaped summit, the morning rays casting long shadows and backlighting our peak as spiraling rotors of powder dump into our Dream Line. Although a beautiful sight, this large amount of snow—the biggest storm of the trip—is concerning. If there’s a large avalanche in the couloir, the result would be catastrophic. Soon the clouds rose and engulfed us again. WILL—DAY 17 We didn’t get up as early as I’d hoped. They say travel through ice when it’s most cold and solid, but we got to the base of the icefall around 10 a.m. There were two routes up. One required a traverse under a massive rock wall that had two potential serac climbs. We went with the other—a direct route up the heart of the icefall. Pete led. The first piece was mellow, but the next section brought us into a massive ice wall corridor, 50-foot seracs surrounding us from every angle. Suddenly, we were all on edge. The only way through was a true ice climb. Pete climbed with 50 pounds on his back and skis. I nervously snapped pictures to ease my mind. An overhanging block kept hitting our skis, so we topped out like beached whales. Elliot screamed profanities the whole way. We were 50 feet up on top of a massive serac, the crevasses below deep and dark. We approached a bridge of ice three feet thick and two feet wide, crossing a 15-foot-wide crevasse to the next serac. It was exposed with long drops into a black abyss. Pete led as the three of us prepared to catch his fall on a single ice screw. Luckily, the bridge held. PETER—DAY 21 We awoke at 1 and 3 a.m. to assess the weather. No one was sleeping well because the wind was howling at camp. Can only guess what it’s doing up high. We rechecked the forecast—still looking better for tomorrow and next day, but then shutting down in 72 hours. We need to send and then retreat through the icefall before the next storm hits. More stove problems. Not just clogged jets, clogged fuel line. We cut apart a USB cable to poke and clean the line. Reality of low fuel, food dwindling and a third day of weather hold. Couldn’t see 60 feet out of tent. Tajikistan 055
The Ski Journal Volume 14, Issue 1: Page 55
