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Dharamsala to Bimthang – Get Up You Horrible Little Man (part one)

Thanks Windsor.

As instructed by the sergeant major I got up at 4.15 for breakfast at 5.00. During the night it had rained heavily and for my 4am pee the cloud was around my shed. By the time I’d packed and got out for breakfast the sky was clear and the early light was showing the mountains in some glory. Manaslu was imperious. It was cold so I wrapped up with three layers and wore leggings for the first time this trek.

Bhim had to knock up the boys who ran the camp to get some breakfast made. It was half decent porridge and honey and I was happy. We pushed off just after half five and after 50 metres I was breathless and knackered. Bhim came over and offered to swap rucksacks, which I refused but gratefully accepted later. Sufficient oxygen is difficult to take in – which is a George Formby way of saying ‘it is difficult to take in sufficient oxygen’. He puts it that way round, with the noun first, when he’s struggling to get a rhyme. Bless. Not that I was thinking of George when my lungs were trying to escape from my throat. This old heart of mine was working overtime. Thanks to the Isleys.

The sun was beginning to reveal a magical world beyond the wall of moraine that we were tracking to our left.

The view to our right was trying not to be outdone.

There were deep plunging noises of rocks from inside the glacier, falling as the ice melted and dropped it’s load down deep hidden chasms. A bit like listening to whales underwater.

As the sun took hold of the mountains expanding rocks were released from the sides by gravity and crashed down to the valley floor, every couple of minutes as we climbed up. And ominously deep rumbles of ice and snow avalanches could be heard like distant thunder resonating up and down the valleys. I hope the folk at Manaslu Base Camp were safe.

We smiled and congratulated each other on being the luckiest people to cross the pass in months. The weather was extraordinary. We couldn’t believe it.

After an hour we passed a lake, meltwater from the glaciers collecting behind the wall of moraine. The reflected mountains were phenomenal

There were plenty of animals enjoying the morning sun. Marmots, huge mice as big as young rabbits, and yaks grazing.

I started to delayer my clothes but you need to be careful up here. The weather can turn quickly and kill you. I’ve been carrying my emergency bivouac since we set off, hoping that we wouldn’t have to use it. A snowstorm five years ago killed 21 trekkers on the Annapurna Circuit at the same time of year, and this trek is more remote.

The rockfalls got bigger and more frequent, particularly down this range.

Meanwhile we were working our way up 2,300 feet to the summit of the pass with less and less oxygen. Some people climb Everest without oxygen tanks, and that’s 12,000 feet higher than this. How do they do it? Even Bhim, a young, strong lad of 32, was puffing with the effort. Then to pee on our parade a little more the path went from partial path….

to none at all.

Looking back down the valley we’d come a long way over rough ground. To the extreme right of the photo below, about a third of the way up from the bottom, is a smoother section with straight, parallel lines down it. That is the ice of the glacier underneath us which is exposed at the surface.

After five hours of slog I could have given up. My muscles were screaming. Bhim came over and offered to carry both rucksacks. I couldn’t let him, as much as it might appeal. Then a light came on. There were flags.

And suddenly over the top of the next brow the summit was less than 20 metres away. I can’t tell you how emotional that is. Luckily there were two French lads coming the other way who took photos for us. We’d done it.