Our easy stroll for the day and the planned 7 am start time suffered an immediate setback. Upon opening the tent flap in the morning I was greeted with a bright white landscape. A couple inches of snow covered everything in sight and the white stuff was still falling down. We huddled inside the mess tent for breakfast and MH2 recommended we wait out the storm before making a move. Since the snow was pretty light, I wasn’t worried and expected the storm to pass by pretty quickly. I started to get concerned when our little dusting turned into a mini-blizzard, forcing me to get up every once in awhile to shake the snow off the tent roof. The parallels between our situation and the Donner party were close enough to make us all jokingly plan for the worst. After all, those pioneers were also led into a wicked blizzard by an idiot who claimed to know the best route across the Sierra Nevada despite never following the route himself. Kacho had given us the same sense of confidence until we showed up and found out he hadn’t been to the area for a decade. Luckily, the weather cleared at 9:30 am… just as we had settled on eating my youngest brother-in-law first.
A winter’s morning in June
The skies cleared up nicely for us and I began to have high hopes (no pun intended) for the sights we’d see today. After hiking for an hour and a half, we sat down for a short breather. This is where I noticed a stiff breeze picking up and dark clouds moving our direction. The next 3 hours quickly evolved into a gusty blizzard with visibility dropping to less than 100 ft at times. Both of the girls put on gators to keep their feet dry as we trudged through fresh knee-high snow.
Final bathroom break at Goro
I didn’t understand why it was taking us so long to reach camp. The trek was only supposed to be 4 hours long today so I had just put my head down and tried to think happy thoughts. When we were an hour past the expected duration, MH1 admitted that he had gotten lost in the storm. All of his usual reference points were covered up as well as the trail. This turned our expected 9 km hike into a 13 km weave. Skies finally cleared again just in time for us to break for a lunch of boiled eggs and potatoes.
End of the blizzard
Camp came into sight soon after lunch and I began looking to my left as we approached the tents. K2 was over there somewhere and I didn’t want to miss any opportunity to get it on film… or some sort of digital media. I caught the peak right before the clouds rushed in. What really caught my interest was where our dream team had set up camp. It had to be the worst location possible and I wondered if it even counted as Concordia. Even in crystal clear weather, I’d have to hike another 45 minutes past camp just to get a good photograph of K2. There were a couple more groups currently at camp and they were all well beyond our site. I wasn’t the only one disappointed with the arrangement and we agreed to make the team pack up and move. We’d be here for 2 nights and the extra effort would be worth it.
While investigating the best place to relocate, we bumped into a team of Pakistanis. They were operating a tourism company and were here with a couple of Canadians. I didn’t get to meet the Canadians, but the guides were friendly. We listened to the gorgeous views they had earlier in the day with envy and pushed by to find a spot for ourselves. Just a few hundred feet past their tents we spotted a flat area of prime real estate. I helped the porters break apart the thin layer of ice where I wanted my tent and we smoothed out the ground. From the smell of ash and the garbage strewn about, I could tell this served as someone’s burn pile. Mule crap also littered the site, but we were all willing to suffer these small inconveniences for the prospect of such a promising view.
The moment we’ve all been waiting for
I tried unsuccessfully to nap until 6 pm. Shouts and excitement brought me out of my lethargic trance and I looked outside and was welcomed to a crisp-clear 360 degree view of Concordia. Our brain-dead cook was suddenly struck with a bout of perfect english and began to name every single peak in sight. Another one of our porters admitted that this was his first trip to Concordia and just kept repeating K2 while pointing in its direction. Before I could get the tripod set up, a group of 3 french mountaineers came by and introduced themselves. They were the friends of the other frenchmen we met yesterday… I forget all of their names, but the one who spoke for the group said his name was Christain. We told him that we were just ameteurs here for the view while he explained that they were going to be there for another month before attempting to summit G4. At the instant they pointed at G4, an avalanche was triggered and a massive cloud of snow rushed down the steep slope. We all watched the scene unfold from a safe distance before returning our attention to K2 and photography.Christain had tried twice before to summit the monster without success.
Left to right: K2, Broad Peak, French guys
The temperature began to drop before the sun even ducked behind the Karakorum for the night. Before saying goodbye, Christain had told us it was already -10 degrees celsius. Thank goodness the coordinator insisted we bring the heavy down snow gear despite my reluctance at first. I would have survived with my regular snow jacket, but I would have been miserable at night. Having taken a few good photos of the mountain, we ducked into the shelter of our mess tent for the evening. Everyone was thrilled to have seen K2 on the first night, but we were also exhausted from pushing through the blizzard. The 15,000 ft elevation of camp added to our exhaustion. Maybe that’s why I stayed inside and ignored my instinct to take advantage of the clear skies for some nighttime photography. Kacho somehow made us tasty goat curry even though the animal was sacrificed days ago. We gobbled up the steaming meal while revelling in our good fortune to have already seen the 2nd highest peak in the world.
A Pure Trek 