Expedition:
Pakistan Winter Sports
Athlete:
Hervé Barmasse, alpine climber
Date:
20 Jan / 2 Feb 2010
Photographer:
Kristoffer Erickson
Product Tested:
Half Dome Jacket
Beyond the opening of new ice routes and long ski descents on unexplored mountains, the goal of this expedition was to help a community of porters progress, both in terms of safety and technique. Furthermore, thanks to the collaboration of Dr. Cavana, we organized a clinic to deal with problems linked to the medical-sanitation aspects of the area.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RYIiCTQ26pY
The Pakistani Winter, Shimshal and its porters
Shimshal Valley, 20 January 2010
Unlike the summer, when fields of grain, trees and green pastures contrast the brown color of the rock and dry land, now everything is gray like a black and white film. It is cold even at low altitudes and above 1600 meters it’s completely frozen.
We creep along in our Jeep towards Shimshal on a bumpy, disjointed road that was literally ripped into the mountain thanks to the will power of its inhabitants over 23 years of hard work with a pick and shovel. This spectacular off-road adventure alone justifies a trip to Pakistan.
In the village there is no running water, no telephones or televisions. Only a few families have installed small solar panels that guarantee light for three hours at a time during the long winter nights. There are no doctors and the nearest hospital is in Gulmit, where a general practitioner oversees all emergencies without the use of “sophisticated” medical equipment. The community is very united and the inhabitants help each other as in a big family. Any problem is a problem for Shimshal and not for one single person.
Potatoes, rice, chapatti, dal, peas and beans are preciously rationed to make sure that we aren’t left without supplies before the next replenishment. Once in a while we get to eat goat or yak meat. Unlike the summer, there are no chickens because they wouldn’t survive the harsh temperatures of the winter months. The yak is also a characteristic of Shimshal. It is rare to encounter these animals in Pakistan but in the Shimshal valley, along the border with China, thousands of them liev in the wilderness.
The temperature during the five winter months is consistently below zero—from minus 12 to minus 20—and even sitting near the woodstove it rarely gets above 5 degrees. The impression I get is that during the winter this country patiently awaits summer in the same way my ancestors in the Alps did, 150 years ago.
In the village of Shimshal more than 40 people have climbed a mountain of 8000 meters and Rajab Shan, the only Pakistani to have climbed all of the 8000-meter peaks of the Karakorum was born here. He is considered a real hero in all of Pakistan.
Close to death.
Shimshal Valley, 22 January 2010.
Cubic meters of rock pass over my head like projectiles. I cling to my ice picks, the last piece of protection placed many meters below my feet. I can do nothing but look upwards and hope that I won’t be hit. I see an avalanche of snow and debris come towards me. My gaze turns to stone. I clutch the ice axes even tighter, lower my head and wait for the impact that will sweep me away, towards my death.
I have often heard that when you are certain you are about to die, you see your life flash before you like a film …None of that is true. In that moment, I had only one thought: you must live. With the ruthless will of someone fighting for survival, I manage to avoid the avalanche. For a moment all is silent, all is tranquil. The silence is soon broken by my partners shouting for me to come down as soon as possible. I look up and see an enormous piece of rock, the size of a car, coming towards me.
Now I am certain. Now it’s definitely over.
My body is paralyzed. The sense of clarity I had up until then disappears. I get as close as I possibly can to the wall of ice, gripping the ice axes as hard as I can and, with my eyes closed, I await the blow. Something grazes me, I’m hit by snow. I open my eyes and take a few steps down.
The nightmare is over. I’m still alive.
I put a screw into a layer of ice on my left and quickly descend to my partners who hug me with maternal instinct and guide me towards the cave that protected them. I can’t stay still. The adrenaline pervades my body and, in spite of everything, I maintain a brazen attitude. Before the stunned eyes of my friends, I act as if nothing has happened. They definitely must, rightly so, think I am crazy. Several minutes pass and I am overcome with a sense of emptiness. In silence, confused, I make my way towards Shimshal.
