Tavan Bogd: Climbing the Roof of Central Asia
Part 2 - the Climb
Four of us would climb, Matt and Greg, American Peace Corps Volunteers, Cedric, a Frenchman working at the geophysics institute in UB, and me. We had with us two Mongolian guides, Kashat, a local Kazakh man and Zhukov, Mongolia's number one mountaineer, who has been to Everest and France. When setting up our camp the Mongolians discovered they didn't have stakes for their tent, which in any case didn't look to sturdy for the cold strong winds coming off the glacier. A bad start.... Rocks solved the problem in this case. It still stormed throughout the night, so we nearly gave up hope until I looked out in the morning to see an amazing sight - the entire Tavan Bogd range glittering in the morning sun, topped by Khuutain Uul in the distance! They looked gorgeous, and it didn't take us long to get ready to go. But the Mongolians figured the weather was great so insisted on having tea. Finally by eleven we set off for a 12 km trek up the glacier to reach the foot of the mountain.
Camp at the base of Potanii Glacier
Khuutain Uul is the round peak in the background
When we got to the point on the glacier where it was time to rope up we pulled out our brand new climbing rope and harnesses, but all the Mongolians could produce was a piece of string barely strong enough to tie a dead goat to a ger! And only Zhukov had a good harness.... Well, this was gonna be an adventure alright. No wonder they had insisted all the foreigners go on our rope and they on theirs. Al along we had figured one Mongolian with two of us on each rope would have been better.
Potanii Glacier
By four in the afternoon we had progressed a long way up the glacier, but still had another two hours to go. I had been looking at the weather and been mumbling all day about how nice it would have been to leave at 7 instead of 11. Didn't take long to prove me right, as all of a sudden a snowstorm blew in from the middle of nowhere, and within minutes we were stuck in the middle of a white-out, complete with lightning at close range. Not an enviable position to be in on an open glacier with no cover. Zhukov stopped cold in his tracks, and pointing at a spot below his feet said, "Let's set up camp, Here!". We hurriedly unpacked our gear, while wet sleet soaked us all. Luckily it turned out that the Mongolians had a second smaller tent which was much better suited for the mountain than the tent without stakes they left at the foot of the glacier. We set up our tents in record time, worrying that the metal poles would make perfect lightning rods on the open glacier. We finally crawled into our tents, trying to make the best of it. By then our outer clothes were pretty much soaked, so it was hard to keep the tents dry.
Glacier camp
Sandagosh, the lovely Kazakh cook at base camp had taken
care of provisions, and we found ourselves with a hunk of mutton, some
cut up dry bread, a bottle of Salat - Polish pickled paprika cabbage
and other veggies, the staple veggie for most Mongolians, and a bottle
of pickles. Matt insisted we eat the Salat and pickles as he was not
about to lug the stuff down the mountain again. Meanwhile, the storm
continued to rage outside. After having filled ourselves with the Mongolian
equivalent of Power Food we crawled into our bags as best as we could,
although four guys and wet gear in a three-person tent is far from luxurious.
Zhukov assured us that the weather the following day would be great,
but it was hard to attach a lot of value to that statement while the
storm battered our tents. The following morning the wind was still howling,
but when I looked out, the clouds had all but disappeared, and Khuutain
Uul once again towered over us. We raced out this time, denying the
Mongolians their morning tea. We still had an hour or more to go to
the base of the mountain, before the start of the actual climb.
Battling strong winds on the bottom of Khuutain Uul
Unlike the afternoon before the snow was hard now, so the going was much easier. However, the strong wind slowed us down. By 10 we finally looked up at the mountain. About 500 vertical meters of snow and ice at a 30-60% slope. My right crampon had been coming off, as my boot was about to fall apart and had to fix it with Duct tape. I thought I had it fixed, but it still slipped off from time to time. Greg had the same problem with his crampons.
Taking a rest on the snow slopes of Khuutain Uul
The first part of the climb went well, and we gained altitude
rapidly. The wind was coming from the side now, blasting us with hail
dumped in the storm last night. Soon our faces were raw with wind burn.
After an hour the slope became steeper, and steeper, until we reached
a section of hard ice and snow, at a nearly 60% slope. Very slowly we
traversed the section while Greg and I prayed our crampons would hold
out. The glacier was now far below us, and we could see far into Russia
and Mongolia. Behind us were the rolling grassy hills of Mongolia, the
slopes dotted with the odd herd of yaks. To our right stretched the
Siberian taiga - low hills of green. In the middle of the hills stood
one lonely massive block of ice, Mt. Beluha. In the last century, a
group of Old Believers, Orthodox Christians expelled from the Church
in the 16th Century, heard of a luxurious valley called Shambala near
this mountain. They walked from Murmansk in north western Russia to
this remote corner of Siberia to find it. Looking at this majestic mountain
towering over the taiga, one could imagine why people considered it
sacred...
We breathed a sigh of relief at the end of the traverse, but our joy
didn't last long. Above us the slope was less steep, but the ice was
rock hard, making it hard for our crampons to catch hold. We managed
to cross the ice with some help of Zhukov, and luckily we only had a
hike up a gentler snow-covered slope to get to the top. By this time
we were all exhausted from the efforts on the ice walls, so the going
was slow. Finally, 3 1/2 hours after leaving camp the slope gave way,
and a magnificent landscape unfolded in front of us. The views of Mongolia
and Russia were beautiful, but paled in comparison to the scenery China
had to offer. Jagged rocky peaks topped with icy caps, stretched as
far as the eye could see, the valleys in between filled with glaciers.
The wind had died down and the sun beat down hard on us. All the days
of waiting and struggling through unseasonal storms were well worth
this stunning panorama of three countries.
The top! Majestic view over China
Made it! From L to R: Rogier, Cedric, Matt, and Greg
After taking our pictures and enjoying the view it was
time to face the ice wall again. It didn't take long to reach the first
patch of ice. Everyone went down it alright, but when my turn came I
slipped and fell. I stood no chance to hold myself on the slippery ice,
and gained speed rapidly. Within a fraction of a second I was hurling
face first down the slope. I wasn't too worried, knowing I was tied
in to three others, and after what seemed ages a mild tug on the rope
stopped me gracefully.
But after getting up it turned out I had pulled Greg from his anchor,
and dragged him down the slope as well. Only by chance did Kashut catch
both of us....
After this mishap Zhukov decided to tie in all six of us properly. This
worked much better and from then on we descended without further problems.
When we looked over our shoulders though, we decided we should really
have used some of the ice screws we had with us.
Approaching glacier camp on the way down
Within two hours we were back at our glacier camp, where
we ate something and packed up. We really did not feel like another
stormy night on the glacier so we decided to get straight back to base
camp. So, we loaded up our packs again and set off down the glacier.
By now the sun had turned much of the snow into slush and the glacier
surface into a myriad of small streams. Soon our boots were soaked,
but the gorgeous weather made up for the inconvenience.
After seven hours we finally walked into base camp, tired, but still
on a high from the climb. It was certainly the best climb all of us
had ever done!
Next: Lake Hovsgol