Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
stage had to be paid for the additional two hours. What is now called Annapurna
base camp, the destination for trekkers, was directly opposite the face but hours of
awkward glacier away from the base of the face proper. It comprised a couple of
smoky shacks made up of loosely bound branches covered in a corrugated tin
roof.
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Our camp at around 4,500 metres was idyllic. Late summer flowers still held
their fragrance. The earth was soft and comfortable for our three-man tents. These
we erected not far from a large overhanging boulder, which formed the roof for the
cooking area. A large tarp was lashed around the boulder and, with a few poles re-
covered from earlier expeditions, we created a covered communal area. As the
skies cleared, the penetrating cold transformed the remaining alpines overnight
into eternal blooms, perfect in shape and detail, but empty of life.
Late next day, René arrived with three porters. He was in a jubilant mood. He
had made the journey from Pokhara in just four days with all the bonded equip-
ment. We had a cheerful meal of dal bhat and tuna fish and made our plans. Apart
from permission for the south face of Annapurna, the permit stated that we could
'climb on the slopes above base camp'. The 'slopes above base camp' led to a num-
ber of attractive 6,000-metre and 7,000-metre peaks, perfect for acclimatisation.
But first, we wanted to have a look at the bottom of the route.
René and I set off a day later to climb directly up onto the glacier from our base
camp. Alex did not feel well, so we rearranged our rucksacks to take most of what
he would have carried. After a couple of false starts, we gained the spur that led
directly to the bottom of the Polish Pillar. This rose immediately to the left of our
intended entry couloir. Steep grassy meadows soon gave way to rocky ground that
narrowed and steepened as it rose into the mists descending from the face. René
was ten years my junior and supremely fit. I fell behind and had to pick my way up
damp rock walls and unmarked snow patches, wondering which way he had gone.
The mist held tight around the spur like a glove. As the angle eased, I spotted steps
ahead in the snow and, finally, I found René sat waiting. I felt slow and tired and
expected a caustic comment, but instead he simply said: 'We are at the base of the
Polish Pillar. This is where we will camp.'
We were somewhere around 6,000 metres. Once I'd dropped my heavy rucksack,
my energy levels soon returned. We quickly cleared a good platform for the Mac
Tent, the same one that had been used on Shisha Pangma just a few months be-
fore. We had planned to bring two Mac Tents, but when Al Rouse dropped out we
decided to share and accept the discomfort of three in a space designed for two.
Tonight at least, René and I would sleep in relative comfort. The mist cleared and
the wall emerged above us. The big couloir that was the start of our route was
