Swenson recounts fifteen expeditions over 35 years to the monster mountains on the Pakistan border; 28,251 foot K2 is probably the most familiar to people who don't read this kind of literature. It's worth noting that less than half of these several month trips -- involving illnesses, treacherous snows, awful weather, freezing nights, and other hardships -- ended in success. That is, if by "success" is meant reaching the summit of the intended target peak. For this mountaineer, often the journey is the reward -- though during his career he did summit both K2 and Everest, the highest mountains on the planet.
Though Swenson is obviously an extraordinarily accomplished climber, his story makes it clear that climbing mountains of this remoteness, size, and scale may demand as much sheer stubbornness and willingness to suffer as technical finesse. He seemed to always know he could dredge a little more out of his hurting body. This is clearer here than in any other mountaineering narrative I've ever read.
And he only had the chance to put himself through his chosen pain-fest over and over because he is a superb organizer. This sort of climbing expedition is all about organization: assembling a compatible team, clearing bureaucratic hurdles, buying supplies, hiring armies of porters to move the supplies close to the peaks -- all that has to be done successfully before anyone tries to climb anything. Swenson recounts learning to do it, making local friends who stood ready to help, and avoiding the sorts of inter-personal conflicts that tear apart climbing teams. Coming from my experience, I suspect this guy would have been terrific on a political campaign -- same skills there.
But while all of this is interesting, I probably would not have been writing about this book if it had not for Swenson's final theme: how he sought to age gracefully in a young person's sport. The book's final chapter recounts his expedition in 2015 to two Pakistani peaks, Changi Tower (very technical climbing at 21,325 feet) and K6 Central (higher at 23,294 feet). He wanted to mentor some young climbers, share the complexities of the logistics in Pakistan's high mountains, and introduce them to his many Pakistani friends. He chose Graham Zimmerman and Scott Bennett, both highly accomplished mountaineers who had no Karakoram experience. He launched off with plenty of trepidation.
And so his team with its local porters, cooks and government minders took off for the mountains. Swenson used his experience to identify and lead them in setting up a secure advanced base camp (ABC) at over 17,000 feet from which they could move on the summits.My main concern was our age difference. I’d recently turned sixty-one, and I’d be spending a couple of months in Pakistan trying to keep up with two under-thirty-year-olds. ... Changi Tower and K6 Central were still unclimbed [by the routes he planned], largely because it was difficult to reach them.
But climb on he did behind Bennett's brilliant lead up treacherous snow cliffs.... While dozing that afternoon in the tent, I realized my work to establish our ABC was winding down. What should my role be now that we were getting into position to start these climbs? Scott and Graham were stronger, more skilled, and faster climbers than I was. As was the case on all these expeditions to the great ranges, it was less important to share the leading than it was to assign everyone the jobs for which they were best suited. Although it would be fun for me to do some of the leading on Changi Tower, it would be more efficient if Graham and Scott did all of it. I would follow in support, carrying as much food, fuel, and bivouac equipment as I could. I decided to propose this when the time came.
... Climbing back up, I felt that as I acclimatized, my breathing became steadier and my heart beat a bit slower. But after several days of chasing Scott and Graham around, I experienced a deeper fatigue that was hard to recover from—a symptom of being older. Accepting that it was harder, or not possible, for me to do things that I could do when I was younger wasn’t easy. I wondered if this would be my last expedition to these huge, serious mountains.
There followed a tough descent which included repeated choices about whether it was safe to push on while removing their equipment from exposed cols and disrupted glaciers. But all made it safely.... On August 9, we rose in the dark at 4:00 a.m., and after brewing up we were on our way by 6:00 a.m. ... After kicking steps up a short slope of firmer snow, Scott reached the final rocky summit block and scratched his way up with tools and crampons to reach the top in the fading light. Graham climbed up to Scott as it got dark, and I followed using my headlamp in the pitch black.
And then Swenson took stock of himself and the expedition's goals and convened a planning meeting:
And so he found himself watching anxiously from below as the two younger men worked their way into position to approach that summit. In the end, they didn't have enough good weather to complete the traverse they'd hoped for, but did complete the second ever ascent of K6 West. Swenson adopts as his own the conclusions of his Pakistani friend Rasool:... the three of us had completed a spectacular first ascent of Changi Tower.
... Given my health, I didn’t have the confidence in myself that I needed to attempt K6. Perhaps climbing Changi Tower was enough for me on this trip. I woke up early, thinking that the three of us would have a discussion at breakfast about our strategy for K6. ... my life as a professional engineer helped me realize how critical these strategy discussions were to the team’s safety and success. We could communicate in a way that established respect rather than control. Despite our need to act as individuals, working as a team was as important as any of the technical climbing skills we possessed.
... I had decided not to attempt K6 Central. I didn’t think I could recover quickly enough from Changi Tower. My health wouldn’t be good enough, and if they had a short weather window to make their ascent, I might slow them down enough to miss the summit. ... The conversation that morning in the mess tent went well. I told Scott I’d only seen the kind of brilliant climbing he displayed on Changi Tower a few times in my life. When I shared my plans to stay behind on K6, Scott said, “I don’t think you’d slow us down.” Graham agreed. “Yeah, I think you should go with us,” he said, “and we think you’d be an asset, so don’t stay behind because of us.” I thought they were probably sincere, but my lack of confidence made me feel they were just being polite. “I appreciate your encouragement,” I said “but I don’t think I’ll change my mind.” They had the strength and ability to do it on their own, probably more efficiently without me.
“I am so happy with this expedition. This expedition is 100 percent. Many expeditions are 90 percent, but I am so very happy—this expedition was 100 percent.” I felt the same way: the camaraderie, our climbing success, and a safe trip left us feeling pretty good about what we had accomplished.
No comments:
Post a Comment