Annapurna (11 page)

But where is Annapurna? It’s still a mystery. Nobody here knows of it.
Programme:
Gaston, Pansy and I are going to Chindi in the hope of collecting information to place Annapurna. If we get it we shall examine the possible approaches and estimate the difficulties, then return immediately by way of Muktinath.
⁴
If what we discover makes it clear that we ought to proceed with our intended reconnaissance to the top of the Great Barrier, which should be easily accessible and which we should do together, then we will return to the camp on the 12th, that is to say, tomorrow.

If we don’t turn up, you break camp on the morning of the 13th and return to Tukucha.

Yours ever,

MAURICE

Meanwhile Ichac, after having seen us off to Manangbhot, set out with Angtharkay at about 9 o’clock the same day from the
camp
on the East Tilicho Pass. His objective was a point to the north-east of the camp, on the Muktinath Himal, looking towards the Great Barrier. When he reached a suitable spot at about 18,000 feet he took a series of compass-bearings and photographs. While he was engrossed in this, Angtharkay set to work to build a cairn, with such skill that he managed to construct an impressive monument over eight feet high. The clouds which had covered the sky at dawn now returned and the party had to make its way back to camp.

Lying flat on his stomach in his tent Ichac, with as much accuracy as the conditions and his equipment allowed, transferred the triangulations he had made to the map.

‘There we are – I’ve got it clear at last.’

He had collected evidence that the chain stretching to the south of the camp, which we called the Great Barrier, was in fact the Annapurna Himal. Our famous Triangular Peak – the Black Rock whose topographical importance we had suspected – was the starting point of the further system of ridges from which rose Annapurna. So the only possible conclusion was that Annapurna must lie on the other side of the Great Barrier from the camp.

Rébuffat and I, therefore, had gone off after a ghost mountain. If only we had realized … But that is exploration: a great deal of hesitation, doubt, error and then, quite suddenly, a discovery.

Up in the pass it was a very cold night. Dawn shone through the tent and heralded fine weather. Ichac took advantage of the clearness of the atmosphere to take bearings of the enormous peaks to be seen beyond Manangbhot, among them Manaslu, one of the eight-thousand-metre peaks of Nepal, a formidable pyramid that stands out strikingly from the other summits.

The clouds came down and the wind began to blow. The party either remained in the tents or kept a look out through glasses for the return of the Manangbhot party. Towards 3 o’clock Phutharkay arrived and gave Ichac my message. Ichac read it quickly – he knew already that he would learn nothing from it. There would be no point, he reckoned, in going up the easily accessible summit of the Great Barrier. It was preferable to go in the other direction as high as possible up a magnificent glacier he had discovered the previous day, and try to see Annapurna over the top of the Great Barrier.

THE ANNAPURNA RANGE
–
according to the map of the Indian Survey, with the Tilicho Pass incorrectly situated
.

On the morning of the 12th the weather was magnificent. Ichac explained to Angtharkay that they would go up together in the direction of the Muktinath Himal. At 7 o’clock they reached the cairn built the day before; at 8.30, with clouds beginning to cover the sky, they set foot upon a gently sloping glacier and started to climb it. A layer of new snow covered the ice and made the going slow. The altimeter rose gradually. They came to a zone of crevasses.

It was not the moment to embark upon anything difficult but simply to get as high as possible in the shortest possible time. Here and there a few steps had to be cut in the ice, but the difficult bits were short, and finally they emerged on to the upper slopes. They reached the ridge in thick mist.

Where was Annapurna? Visibility was nil. Ichac did not even know exactly where he was himself. He waited in vain for an improvement in the weather. It was 12.30 and the altimeter registered 20,300 feet. They did not suffer badly from breathlessness, which showed that they were beginning to get into training. This point reached by Ichac was the highest so far attained by the expedition, and was our first summit of over 20,000 feet.

THE ANNAPURNA RANGE
–
shown correctly
.

The weather did not improve, and at 3.15 they began the descent, following in the tracks made on the way up which remained visible in spite of the sleet. It was 4.30 when they reached the camp. Here they found the leader of the Expedition snoring heavily in his sleeping-bag! Now just what had happened?

At Manangbhot, at dawn on the 11th, the little party had wakened with difficulty. After a frugal breakfast Phutharkay went off with his sack and my note to Ichac. Rébuffat and myself, with Pansy, left shortly afterwards to go down the valley of the Marsyandi Khola in search of our elusive Annapurna.

Ahead of us, and a good distance off, a peak stood out which we identified as Manaslu. Our intention was to skirt round the Great
Barrier
as far as possible. But we had to be back at Manangbhot that evening. At midday the little village of Chindi came into view and beyond it the valley narrowed and I could guess at the deep gorges that enclosed the river. To go further would have been useless. I was quite sure we were not on the right track – Annapurna was not down in these parts.

The inhabitants, and the shikaris from whom we asked for information, had never heard tell of it. They explained at some length that the word meant ‘Goddess of the Harvests’. There was nothing for it but to return to Manangbhot, which we had to do on empty stomachs as our provisions were all finished.

Clouds collected over Tchongor and Sepchia and prevented us from taking the photographs which we should have liked to bring back as evidence. A halt was indicated to give them a chance to clear. Everybody found a comfortable nook, and Rébuffat was not long in falling asleep. Pansy smoked his last cigarettes. I kept watch like a sentry ready to give the alarm the moment our summits should appear.

At last Tchongor and Sepchia came out of the mist. Rébuffat took photographs and then we went on our way back to Manangbhot.

It was hot and we found it pretty hard going. Every time we met anyone Pansy would ask about the possibility of getting some provisions, but it was hopeless. The afternoon was well advanced when we reached our barn.

‘So we’re going back empty-handed,’ said Rébuffat dejectedly.

‘At least we know it’s not over here.’

‘We’ll have to get back at once.’

‘There’s scarcely any food. Take what there is and push off with Pansy to Muktinath over the Thorungse. That will save you the ascent to the Tilicho Pass and you’ll be back a day earlier at Tukucha. You’ll be tired after travelling on an empty stomach, so with the remaining rupees you can hire ponies.’

‘What about you?’

‘Don’t worry, with a slab of chocolate I’ll manage to get up to the Tilicho camp.’

‘It’s a hell of a long way!’

‘I’ll be there tomorrow morning. I’d like to go up with Ichac to this “accessible” summit.’

We had a little to eat and then went on our separate ways.

I was all alone. With a slab of chocolate as my only food I should have to be pretty nippy to get up from 9000 feet to over 16,000! My plan was to go as fast as I possibly could, to run when possible, until I couldn’t go a step further.

An hour later I was at Khangsar. Without losing a minute I followed the path which gradually faded out along the left bank of the torrent. I made my way between the cliffs, going up and down to avoid obstacles. The hours went quickly by.

I found the steps which Phutharkay had cut in the limestone. Then I started up the great scree-slope and at last came to the stream which had to be crossed. Jumping was out of the question, so I took off my boots and hung them over my shoulder. It was getting dark and a slip into the icy water would be extremely disagreeable. I entered the water gingerly, testing every stone with my feet.

The current was very strong. Suddenly I slipped, tried to save myself, only to fall in deeper, and ended by going right over altogether. This time I was soaked to the skin. With considerable difficulty I got up on to the opposite bank and began wringing out my clothes and emptying my boots. Still shivering and with my teeth chattering, I got dressed again. It would take me four hours to reach the camp and I had scarcely more than an hour of daylight left. Staggering on, I crossed a long steep slope of hard earth, where more than once I narrowly avoided slipping.

A piercing wind blew up from the valley and I shivered with cold. I could no longer see to go on, so I looked for a grassy place where I could spend the night, and ended by sitting down on a tuft, spreading my cape so that it covered me completely. My legs were icy cold and my knees knocked together. With my hood over my head, I hesitated between eating my last bit of chocolate and keeping it for the morning. I chose the first course, and then I allowed myself the last cigarette.

I was lost in the heart of the mountains, over 14,000 feet up, soaked through, weary and starving. Should I have the strength to climb up the last fifteen hundred feet? A treacherous wind found its way through every gap in my clothing, and snow began to fall. I closed my eyes, relaxed my muscles, and composed myself as I always do in mountain bivouacs.

Long and monotonous, the hours went by. Below me the full
rumble
of the torrent shook the ground and the noise echoed back and forth interminably in the valley. The damp rose up and went right through me – a horrible feeling when one is already chilled to the marrow, and I had to fight against it. From time to time I had a look round. The weather was not improving. If the clouds came down I should not be able to recognize the way.

Though numbed and half asleep, I welcomed the first streaks of dawn with real delight. I should have to wait for it to get a bit lighter, and how hard those last minutes were! Folding my anorak, I started off again with a painfully empty stomach. It was very cold and I hoped to warm up as I walked. The weather had improved slightly and I frequently stopped on the pretext of picking out the way ahead. My legs were trembling and refused to make any effort, but all the same I managed to gain ground. I could see patches of sunlight shining on Manangbhot, but up here I was still in shadow.

At every halt, before starting off again, I picked out ahead a comfortable stone for the next stop. The stops became more and more frequent, and longer. I began to wonder if I should ever get up. Whenever I came to a flat rock I sank down on it, and immediately felt a bit better. After a few seconds’ rest I would see the absurdity of the situation: how could I possibly give up with only a few more yards to climb? I would pick out another rock, drag myself up off the first, and take a few steps – to myself it was as though I were racing along, but actually I was going extremely slowly, and I threw myself down the moment I reached my successive objectives. Yard by yard I gained height, and presently there remained only two hundred yards to the camp, which was just not visible from this point.

I tried to call out, but no sound came from my throat. It was difficult to stand up without wobbling; it was safer and easier down on all fours. My head swam, and I wanted to sleep. Then, mustering my last ounce of strength, I threw myself heavily down on a rock on the ridge. Time slipped by. When finally I opened my eyes it seemed as though a century had passed; I raised my head above the ridge. There was the camp, barely twenty yards away! In vain I tried to attract somebody’s attention, but the coolies were chatting quietly round a good fire. If only they could see me! If only one of them would turn his head! I dropped some stones in the hope of
making
them look up, but they didn’t hear, and I couldn’t call them. My head was like lead and my ears were buzzing.

Now that I was certain of getting there, I gritted my teeth fiercely and managed to crawl along on all fours like an animal. Suddenly Phutharkay turned round.