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boiled water for brews and soup with instant potato, tuna and cheese - a lavish
meal which we ate in the fading light. René crawled into the tent while Alex and I
lingered outside wearing every layer of clothing we had, and savoured the wonders
of being high on an unclimbed route.
It became incredibly calm and quiet once the stove was turned off. Many thou-
sands of feet beneath us, deep wooded valleys were broken only here and there by
terraced fields and clusters of farms and small villages. I could make out Chhom-
rong where we had stayed at the Captain's Lodge. The plains of Nepal and India
lay far beyond, cloaked in a dark haze. A few small but steady lights shone out of it.
The silence was almost tangible as the stars sparked into existence taking over
from the dying evening light.
'You see those lights way out there?' said Alex.
'Yeah, I see them. They look almost unreal. That must be Pokhara and I'd guess a
few hotels must have generators for electricity.'
Alex and I had debated the future of Nepal during our evenings on the walk-in. 'I
bet you that in twenty years there will be electricity right up this valley,' he said.
'No way,' I said. 'What would be the point? There are only a few poor villages and
the farmers just live a dawn to dusk existence.'
'But is that what they really want?' Alex asked. 'In any case, it will be done as
much for the trekkers and climbers. You'll see. They'll be arriving in their thou-
sands.'
I wondered if maybe he was right and for some reason the idea depressed me.
Alex unzipped the tent as the cold intensified and I had to get in first. It was my
turn in the doghouse. Sleep escaped me most of the night as I fought to keep my
body from sliding off the edge. Cheyne-Stokes breathing woke me every time I did
drift into sleep. Next morning a vicious wind began to blow and clouds curled
around the summits. I felt semi-relieved and said so. René was not amused. We
decided we had done enough for the first acclimatisation climb and set off down,
arriving safely back in base camp just after dark and woke our cook boy, Pemba, to
demand a late supper.
The weather was in sync with our plans. It remained bad for three days, giving us
time to rest and consider our next climb. On the other side of the glacier were two
trekking peaks - the sub-6,000-metre Tent Peak and Fluted Peak at around 6,500
metres.
Fluted Peak had not been climbed from this side, but a long and attractive ridge
we named Tower Ridge rose up to a plateau beneath its summit. From there, it
would be possible to climb a second steep ridge to Glacier Dome (7,200 metres)
and thus gain the main ridge that extended many kilometres from Annapurna. At-
