My aim is to try and raise as much money as possible for Merlin – a specialist UK charity which responds worldwide with vital health care and medical relief for vulnerable people caught up in natural disasters, conflict, disease and health system collapse. Their work is based upon the humanitarian principle that all people, regardless of race, religion or political affiliation, are entitled to lifesaving care and medical assistance.

Merlin played a huge part in the relief effort in the aftermath of the devastating earthquake that hit Pakistan in 2005, and Merlin is continuing to provide health care for around 190,000 people in areas where many buildings, including health facilities were completely destroyed. Through mobile and static clinics, Merlin is now the only aid agency providing health services for people living in and around camps in Muzaffarabad, the capital of Pakistan-administered Kashmir.

As with all of Merlin’s programs, an important objective is to leave behind lasting improvements to the health system. “The needs here are just as great as ever,” says Merlin’s Country Director in Pakistan. “Merlin is continuing to strengthen health services in areas badly affected by the earthquake. Many agencies have pulled out, leaving a gap in health care services and the possibility of a second humanitarian crisis. Reconstruction of permanent health centres will take time, so thousands of people will be dependent on Merlin’s field clinics and mobile teams for medical care for some time to come”.

Climbing Gasherbrum II will be truly challenging, but with YOUR support I’ll know that with every step my efforts will be making a real difference to the lives of people still desperately in need after this terrible disaster. Merlin would be enormously grateful for anything that you can give to this most deserving cause.

Thankyou.

Ian Rogers

ian.rogers@climb4life.co.uk

The team is all together now, and is a very eclectic mix of nationalities! The climbing team is comprised of Soren, a Dane living in Norway; Adrian from Birmingham; Kes, originally from Holland but now living in Tanzania; Dave, a Yorkshireman living in Wales; Tia, from Scotland but living in London; Catherine & Clive from Australia; and of course myself and Jamie, the expedition leader from New Zealand. We also have Humphrey, an independant climber from Ireland, with us too. Jamie seems a good guy, very easy going and down to earth. It’s a strong team too, with most having experience of climbing 8,000 metre peaks. Jamie, Soren and Humphrey have all summitted Everest (Jamie 3 times!). At one point Soren also held the record for the fastest ascent of the Seven Summits. So, all in all, a good balance I think. There is also quite a big trekking group (another 7 or 8 ) and they also seem a great bunch and everyone is getting along well.

Yesterday afternoon we went for a wander around and stopped to have a bit of lunch at the Kabul Restaurant which, as it’s name suggests, serves Afghani food. And very good it was too, with superb kebabs served from a flaming grill on the street front. It’s no surprise that this place is such a hit with the diplomatic and local community alike. As we continued our wander we came across a boisterous bunch of youths playing cricket on the pavement….a past-time that would surely never be allowed in nanny-state Britain, and especially not as the ball was frequently hit for six across the roadway, bouncing across several cars on the way! However, on the whole there were not many locals about (they clearly know better than to be out in the heat) and the phrase ‘only mad dogs and englishmen etc..’ very much came to mind!

After a welcome siesta from our earlier excursion, the evening was spent in the rather swish Wang-Fu chinese restaurant, right next next door to our hotel. It proved to be another excellent and very popular place, though it was a little surreal to see quite so many Pakistanis eating chinese food in the heart of Islamabad!

Today we did a spot of tourism and visited the Faisal Masjid, one the world’s largest mosques, gifted by the King Faisal of Saudi Arabia. It’s striking architecture, essentially built to resemble a huge tent in the desert, is very bold for such a conservative country. It’s massive minarets also have a rather bizarre similarity to space rockets!

In the afternoon we braved the heat once more and took a walk around the old quarter of Rawalpindi, the older twin city of Islamabad. Here we found the crowded, narrow, winding mass of bazaars that you would have more come to expect. It was a melting pot of people from all corners of Pakistan and included many Afghans too. Certainly all seemed quite bemused by a group of Weserners suddenly appearing in their midst, especially the children! However, they were very friendly and quite happy for us to take photos. Of course, back in Islamabad we couldn’t help but have another marvellous dinner, this time a curry which cost us the princely sum of 1 pound each!!

Well, had better close for now. Tomorrow we start our two-day journey along the Karakoram Highway (KKH) to Skardu, the last big town before the mountains. This should be a very interesting drive to say the least as it’s reputation goes before it. Not for the faint-hearted I believe! I’ll let you know!!!

We made the 760kms journey from Islamabad to Skardu in two very long days with the journey split by an overnight stay in Chilas. One good thing to come from such a long journey was our Pakistani guide, Saddiq, giving us some rudimentary lessons in Urdu and our army liason officer, Captain Kamal, regailing us with tales of his more usual day job fighting the Taliban and insurgents on the Afghan border.  We initially passed through the city of Abbottabad – named after it’s founder, Major James Abbott and very much a city of the Raj. Today Abbottabad is renowned for the high standards of its many educational institutions and it’s large military establishment. Continuing northwards, we drove through Mansehra, Besham and Battagram – three of the towns devastated by the earthquake in October 2005. Many of the 75,000 killed came from these towns and the villages in and around them, and it was heartening to see the huge international aid and reconstruction projects that are clearly doing so much to help. It was also immensely rewarding to see at first hand the kind of relief effort that Merlin has been engaged in, and that you are now assisting through your sponsorship. It makes you believe again in humanity.

Eventually we entered into the impressive Indus river gorge. The road, or rather track, contours around deep inside, with vast rock walls towering 1000m+ above and fearsome drops down into the fast-flowing Indus way below. All very reassuring when your minibus is hurtling along inches from the edge and certain death! This is not a route for those faint of heart! Yet despite one’s vexation, it was impossible not to be awed by such incredible landscape. Similarly impressive, but in a very different way, were the trucks that trundle along this modern day Silk Route between China and Pakistan and beyond. With their cacophony of horns and highly decorated cabs, lovingly adorned with all sorts of paraphenalia, they are a sight and sound to behold – unless you happen to meet them on a particularly precipitous stretch of road! Yet despite our spectacular surroundings, I think we were all rather pleased when we finally escaped the claustrophobic confines of the gorge and headed onwards into Skardu.

Tomorrow we head out to the road-head at Askole, another hard-core road journey in jeeps. From there we start the 100km trek to base camp – and the expedition begins!

On arrival in Askole it was soon evident that our anticipated head-start to the trek was not going to happen. We had intended to begin the trek straight away and get ahead of some of the other expeditions that were also trekking into the Karakoram, the idea being to get the best tent sites at the various camps along the way. Alas nobody had told the porters, and after several hours of argument and confusion we decided to stay put for the night!

No matter. By dawn an air of calm efficiency had descended about the place. The porters quickly sorted their loads and with much relief we were finally off – the expedition had begun at last!! The relief, however, was somewhat short-lived. Early on we averaged some 20kms a day over 8 or 9 hours, but in the searing heat (35C-40C) and desert-like conditions it was pretty brutal. It was a struggle to stay hydrated and we often arrived at camp totally exhausted. “Anyone for fried brain?” asked Jamie, our leader, after one hideously hot day. This was trekking at the extreme! Mercifully, we had the forethought to buy some umbrellas in Skardu, and whilst we may have looked a little silly they at least provided some vestige of shelter from the sun. On occasion we braved the raging Braldu river and managed to scoop some water over our heads, but it was quite an unnerving exercise.

As we slowly made our way up onto the giant Baltoro Glacier so we had shorter days, the heat relented, and a gentle breeze even cooled the air. And with every step the views became evermore spectacular. On our left were the Trango Towers, their sheer granite spires soaring skywards for over 6000m, and on our right the fearsome peak of Masherbrum. Eventually, after nearly a week of hard trekking, we arrived at Concordia, that great confluence of glaciers and mountains, but alas saw little of our surroundings. Ominous black clouds now loomed large in the sky, and by nightfall heavy rain had arrived with a vengeance.

The next 48hrs were cold, wet, and thoroughly miserable. We mostly hid in the mess tent, periodically peering out in the forlorn hope that the weather might miraculously be about to clear. It didn’t. And people’s spirits were beginning to wane. We rallied briefly when Ashraf, our cook, suddenly produced a cake in celebration of Catherine’s birthday. It tasted fantastic and was a welcome distraction from the rain lashing down outside. Then WOW! We finally awoke to a brighter day – no rain – and as the clouds began to clear so the spectacular panorama of Concordia opened up before us: the iconic Mitre Peak and the stupendous ‘Shining Wall’ of Gasherbrum IV; the imposing massive of Broad Peak, another of the great 8000m mountains, so named because of its mile long summit ridge; and there, at last, the mighty K2 – massive, monumental, and utterly magnificent. Be in no doubt that this, the second highest mountain on earth, is the mountain of mountains. Then late that night, amidst a crystal clear sky sparkling with millions of stars and Venus shining bright, came a truly wonderous sight to behold; the awesome majesty of K2, bathed in the ethereal light of the full-moon rising over Concordia. A moment of breathtaking beauty, and one that will stay with me forever.

In Nepal and Tibet the Sherpas seem to rise to the challenge, it doesn’t matter how late, how cold, how hard the work is, they just get stuck in and get on; it’s both inspiring and heartening in equal measure. Alas, our Pakistani porters don’t appear to have quite the same mentality. As individuals they are wonderful people and you can’t help but warm to them; collectively however, they’re a nightmare and seem well versed in the old English school of striking! The upshot is chaos, with personal gear and vital expedition equipment strung out along the trail several days behind us. Indeed we’ve no idea if it’ll even turn up at all! Crucially, our high altitude tents are amongst the gear that is missing. The trouble is, many of the other expeditions are experiencing similar problems and there is a high risk of everything becoming mixed up or going to the wrong Base Camp. (Concordia is a cross-roads from where you can head off to either Gasherbrum, K2 or Broad Peak Base Camp). Still, at least we now have communication!

Base Camp is situated on a thin, rocky, strip of moraine that divides the South Gasherbrum Glacier in two and is dominated by the huge peak of Gasherbrum I. As one of the last teams to arrive (some have been here two weeks or more) we are camped at the lower end of Base Camp, with just the Hungarians below us, and from here our objective, Gasherbrum II, remains hidden from view. Above us are the Czechs, Germans, Austrians, Chinese/Tibetans, Spanish and Australians, amongst others – so a real international mix of expeditions. All in all it takes about 30 minutes to walk from one end of Base Camp to the other.

The bad news is that the mountain is proving to be very difficult to climb this year. The three days of rain we experienced at Concordia translated into several metres of snow dumped higher up and the snow conditions are now less than ideal. An overhanging ice cliff also blocks the way to Camp 2 and only a handful of tough Czechs and hardened mountaineers have made it beyond Camp 1 let alone to Camp 2. So much for Gasherbrum II being one of the easier 8000m peaks! Nevertheless, conditions are improving and it’s hoped that in the next few days the route will be opened up by a couple of other teams and all being well they will make the first summits.

On a sadder note, a young woman from the German Amical team has died at Base Camp. We all watched in stunned silence as a giant russian MI-17 helicopter from the Pakistan Army flew in and airlifted her body out. A rather timely reminder, if ever we needed it, of the very real dangers of being at high altitude.

Another day or two’s rest in Base Camp saw us at last head up head up to Camp 1. We slowly made our way through the icefall and stopped overnight at Intermediate Camp, established earlier in the day by our High Altitude Porters (HAP’s). It was a pretty cold night and we were thankful for the warmth of a new dawn. We continued on, following the wands and red flags that marked the tortuous route through the maze of crevasses that criss-crossed the vast plateau, on the far side of which was our destination, Camp 1.

Several hours later, we arrived exhausted and rather non-plussed that the HAPs had placed our tents away from the main camp, on the opposite side of a large crevasse. Somewhat anti-social perhaps! Never mind. it was the least of our worries. The weather closed in fast, and initial flurries of snow soon gave way to a whiteout and a full-on snowstorm. We hid away in our tents, cocooned from the elements, and tried to get some rest, but it proved a sleepless night. By morning the tents were half-buried in snow, though a brief lull did at least enable us to sort ourselves out and get ready for the next storm which we knew was surely on its way. We could do nothing else but sit it out – thank heavens for the ipod!!

It was another night of heavy snowfall, but this time we emerged in the morning to blue skies and sunshine. Bliss! So it was all the more maddening that we had no choice but to go down. We had run out of supplies and the recent snow meant that any possibility of reaching Camp 2 would be pretty remote anyway. Nevertheless, the irony of now descending in perfectly good weather certainly wasn’t lost! And By the time we came to retrace our steps across the plateau it was hideously hot, the snow now acting as a huge solar reflector for the sun blazing overhead. I felt like I was in a giant oven! As we threaded our way back through the labyrinth of crevasses we were suddenly stopped in our tracks – the route had abruptly disappeared into a huge hole! Not only that, we realised that this was the same spot we had run away from the other day! The whole thing had collapsed, and we now had to abseil down and rather nervously wend our way through the massive jumble of ice, with broken blocks as big as houses towering above us. By the time we staggered back into Base Camp we could do no more than to woof down some food and crash out in our tents!

By 4am we were on our way and despite the numbing cold Soren, Kees, Adrian and myself made good time across to the bottom of the SW ridge and the start of the route proper. The lower slopes were steep and quite exposed, especially while traversing, and any fixed rope had been buried by the recent snowfall. As we switched back under the main face we were confronted by a large swathe of avalanche debris strewn across the route and our way to Camp 2. It was a worrying sign. Nevertheless, we climbed up a steep adjacent face of about 60 degrees, this time jumaring up the first usable fixed rope. With the weight we were carrying it was a real effort, and the altitude was now beginning to tell.

As we breathlessly reached the top of the fixed rope we saw the huge overhanging ice cliff that had been giving so many problems to other teams – and we could see why! Just as we were wondering how best to get up, a Nepalese Sherpa with an Italian team arrived and decided to free-climb up another slope. An hour or so later and he’d put in three fixed ropes and opened up a new route to Camp 2. What a star! His name was Dawa and it transpired that he had previously summited 8000m peaks no less than twenty-one times! Quite why nobody had tried this variation earlier is anyone’s guess. Perhaps they felt it was potentially too unstable and for sure it’s not ideal, but it’s a damn sight better than the other way! Soren was the first to climb up, followed by myself and Kees and before long we found ourselves in the spectacular surroundings of Camp 2. We decided to push on to upper Camp 2, a small platform about 50m higher at 6500m with room for about 10 tents or so. The weather was superb and we could clearly see the route above us to Camp 3, a bit steeper overall but certainly no harder than we had just come up. For the first time since we arrived I allowed myself to think about reaching the summit. We set up two tents, dropped our loads and started to head down – full of confidence for what lay ahead. It was a great feeling to be on the mountain at last!

After two days snowbound we eventually gave in to the inevitable and made the weary descent back to Base Camp. We were using up valuable resources by just sitting around at Camp 1. It’s psychologically tough too. There’s only so much reading or listening to music you can do, and the rest of the time you find yourself thinking a great deal about friends, family and loved ones – and just how much you miss them. My two tent mates, Tia and Dave, both broke down in tears at different times and proved that being on these big mountains is as much a mental game as anything else. We desecended amidst a blizzard and route-finding was difficult in the whiteout, as well as a little fraught. Yet despite this, I found it much easier in the colder conditions.

Of course, now down at Base Camp, the following day brought perfect weather with cloudless skies and more sunshine! Still, at least here we could re-group, re-energise and take a closer look at our options. We mulled over the decision to come down, but to be fair we really had no choice. The German team stopped by for a chat and one of them, Michael, announced that he’d had enough was heading home. He had reached 7,700m on his summit push a few days earlier but high winds and deep snow forced him back. He described the route from Camp 2 to Camp 3 as ‘relentless’, which only added to our growing sense of pessimism! And Michael, it turned out, had prepared for the expedition by cycling from Munich to Skardu!

The weather has proved a nightmare to predict, even with our comprehensive forecasts, and all the teams have been up and down the mountain like yo yo’s. But it does look like there is a good weather window opening up so we aim to make best use of it, just in case there isn’t another one! We will be moving up to Camp 1 again tomorrow and after a couple of days rest will probably launch a summit bid. This is a bit earlier than we might have liked from an acclimitisation point of view so it will not be easy, but we have to go for it. The plan is to slowly make our way up the mountain and stay a couple of nights at Camps 2 & 3 on the way. It means we will potentially be away from Base Camp for at least ten days, so unfortunately I won’t be able to write again until we are back. Maybe I’ll then have some good news…..Inshallah!

As I’m sure many of you will be aware by now there was a major drama on the mountain, and Soren, Kees and myself sadly experienced first hand the stark reality of the risks and dangers of climbing on these big 8000m peaks. What had started out as a potential summit bid abruptly ended just after we had arrived at Camp 2 when a huge avalanche swept down from high above carrying with it four climbers from the German Amical team who were en-route to Camp 3. Miraculously, three of them were dumped half-buried just 200m across from us at Camp 2, but the fourth was sadly lost. Even more miraculously, a seven-strong team of highly experienced Swiss climbers from the Kari Kobler team (including a doctor!) had also just arrived at Camp 2 besides ourselves, and together with several High Altitude Porters (HAPs) and Blair Falahey and Ryan Waters, two guides from Field Touring Alpine, we managed to affect a rescue.

The Swiss did a brilliant job in coordinating everything and without them I doubt any of the climbers would have survived. Special mention must also go to our two HAPs, Merhban and Jahan Beg, as it was they who first raced across to the scene without thought to their own safety and began digging them out. The German leader, Dirk, somehow managed to pretty much escape unscathed, but Hiro (a famous Japanese climber with nine 8000m peaks to his name, including Everest and K2) and another German climber were more badly injured. Regrettably, the German climber died soon after. With a bit of assistance Dirk was able to climb back down to Camp 1 the next day, but after an initial (and rather valiant) helicopter rescue failed (not really surprising given we were at 6500m), Hiro had to be lowered down the mountain to Camp 1 – a difficult and dangerous job which the Swiss carried out magnificently. In the event, I helped to bring back down the body of the German climber, which was also a tough and very sobering experience. He was later lowered to rest in a nearby crevasse, as was his family’s wish. Mercifully, on the morning of Friday 20th Hiro and Dirk were finally airlifted out by helicopter from Camp 1, much to the relief of everyone concerned.

Having been to Camp 2 twice, I have now decided to call it a day. The route from Camp 2 to Camp 3 is clearly suicidal and the mountain as a whole is in a difficult and highly unstable condition. I very much doubt that Gasherbrum II will be climbed this year – at least not by this route anyhow (we learnt this morning that an Italian team had summitted late last night via a new route on the North Face from the Chinese side of the mountain). Kees and a couple of others have also decided to do the same and all being well we will be trekking out in the next few days along with another team. The rest of our team are still hoping to try again, at least to climb to Camp 2 anyway as some of them haven’t reached there as yet and are quite keen to do so – it is in quite a spectacular location. It also possible for them to try another mountain, but time is short and as usual the weather forecast is not looking good.

It’s been one hell of an experience that’s for sure, but as I look around at this beautiful, yet savage, arena of mountains I am reminded of the words of Sir John Hunt, leader of the successful Everest Expedition of 1953:

“For Man should be humble before the greatest works of Nature”

Indeed so.

Signing off from Gasherbrum Base Camp,

Ian

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