Mt Menthosa Expedition

Mt Menthosa is 6,443m (21,000 ft), in the Himalayas of Himachal Pradesh in the Western Lahaul Valley, off the Manali-Leh highway not far from the town of Udaipur. This blog entry covers the period June 23-29, 2009, when I set off on an attempt to summit this mountain.
There were eight of us on the team:
Me - the "client"
Kaushal - The expedition leader
Bogwon - Guide & porter
Devraj - Guide & porter
Balu - Nepalese cook, who will stay at base Camp
Indu - Kaushal's wife, who will stay in Base Camp
Rinko & Sushima - friends of Kaushal and Indu, joining us for the first two days only
Kaushal's two dogs



This is a transcription of the journal entries I made during the climb.

Day 1 - Manali to Urgos (3,300m)
Several mishaps have occurred already, even though we haven't started climbing yet, not a particularly good omen:

Kaushal inspected my hiking boots when I arrived in Manali and calmly informed me they are not crampon-compatible. 'What if I try to use them with crampons?' I asked. 'When you are up on a sharp vertical ledge of snow, the sole of your boot will bend, the crampon will fall off, and you...' he lifted his right arm to eye level, as if to salute, then extended his palm downwards and slowly glided his hand down to waist level. I got the message. 'Ok, so getting me crampon-compatible boots doesn't sound like such a bad idea after all.' He said no worries, he knows all the mountaineering guides in Manali and he would drive around town until he found a pair my size. I thought of asking him exactly how many mountaineering guides there are in this pint-sized town in the middle of nowhere, then decided the better of it, as I probably didn't want to hear the answer. Later that day, miraculously enough, Kaushal met up with me bearing with him what were apparently the only size 10 mountaineering boots between us and Delhi.

Morning of Day: Our two jeeps left Manali around 10 am, an hour and a half later than planned. This was to be the theme of our ill-fated expedition: high expectations, but poor execution. The first leg of the Manali-Leh highway takes you over the Rohtang Pass (3,900m). Evidently, every Indian tourist in Manali drives up to the pass to see snow for the first time. The road is very narrow in some places, so when two trucks are coming at each other, one inevitably has to back up to a wider spot. With cars lined up behind the trucks, they aren't able to do this, so everyone just waits until they figure out how to engineer ten cars backing up. Translation: The 40km from Manali to the pass took us 5 hours, as we had to sit in a massive mountainside traffic jam along with what appeared to be the entire state of Punjab (the neighboring state where most of the tourists are from). The Punjabis have a reputation for being fairly aggressive, and I got first hand view of that, with two fist fights breaking out during the 5 hour crawl up the pass. Many of them rented snowsuits form roadside vendors, even though it was warm up top (I was in shorts and sandals).

The next mishap occurred an hour after we got over the pass. There was a bridge we had to use to cross a river, and it evidently needed some kind of emergency repair. This set us back another hour. As a result, we only arrived at Urgos village at 9 at night. In the pitch darkness we could not find the spot to set up camp, so we rented a room from one of the villagers, and the eight of us ate dinner and slept in that room.

The last mishap of the day was when Kaushal expressed concern once he saw my sleeping bag. When I had asked him how cold it might get a few months earlier, I heard him say 14 degrees. In fact he said minus 14 degrees (7 degrees Fahrenheit). My sleeping bag was only good to 5 degrees Celsius (20 degrees Fahrenheit), in other words wholly inadequate to the task of keeping my butt from freezing at 6,000m.

Day 2 - Urgos to Base Camp (4,300m)

The start of the morning was perfect. Great views from the village. Three village children came in while we were fixing breakfast. They were fascinated by all our gear, and by me in particular as the only westerner in the group. We found 10 villagers to help haul our gear to base camp, and then we set off. The 5km hike from Urgos to Menthosa Base Camp is a terrific hike: Not too difficult, yet steep enough to be a good workout, with outstanding views of the surrounding peaks, all over 4,000m. The view only gets prettier as you go higher. The most difficult part is climbing up 1,000m of elevation, to 4,300m, on one day.

12:30pm. Arrived at base camp in 4 hours. I was feeling good until the last 45 minutes. I'm feeling a dull headache, slightly nauseous and dizzy, and I've lost my appetite. Zipping up the legs of my hiking shorts took me about 5 minutes, I had trouble focusing on the task at hand -- my small motor skills have deteriorated a little, so attaching a small zipper is now a big task. These are all signs, naturally, of my need to acclimatize. Hopefully by tomorrow morning I will feel ok, as we're supposed to climb to camp I tomorrow, which is another 600m rise in elevation. The sun is unbelievably hot up here -- hotter than the beach in Goa, despite the fact that we are above the tree line and there's snow all around us....

2:30pm. Well, I just spent the last 2 hours lying down on the ground, immobile, drifting in and out of sleep. I also took some Advil for my headache. I'm now starting to feel better. Even so, Kaushal decided we should spend an additional night here to help me acclimatize. I'll do a mini-hike tomorrow, climbing a few hundred meters, to help me acclimatize. 'Climb high, sleep low' is the climber's adage, and given how I felt when I arrived at base camp a couple hours ago, that seems like a good idea to me. I started taking diamox 2 x day in Manali, so I have to believe I'd be all but incapacitated with altitude sickness if I had not been taking it.

I got my first look at Mt. Menthosa about 3 hours into the trek to base camp: We hiked around a ridge, and there she was, in all her splendor. Huge, overbearing and appearing as an impregnable fortress. Her twin peaks have an ominous look of indominatability. 'This is Mt. Menthosa?' I asked Rinko incredulously. 'Yes,' he replied, grinning ear to ear. 'Oh oh,' I muttered back. I was trying to recollect why I ever thought this was a good idea. Because it certainly didn't seem like a good idea any more. I looked hard at the mountain, trying to identify an easy approach up it. Climbing up the face looked almost impossible as the face stood at 90 degrees in some places. Approaching from the left side also looked impossible, due to the steep jagged cliffs. The only approach that looked even remotely possible was from the right side. This approach had the benefit of being a gradual climb. However, it looked like we would have to make our way over some serious looking glaciers and ice walls, which I found out later were as steep as 55 degrees in some places.

It took Indu, Kaushal's wife, 8 hours to make it to Base Camp. She had come down with a bad cough and feverish flu, and that combined with the high altitude made it very tough for her.

Day 3 - Base Camp and Acclimatization Climb (4,500m)

I was miserably cold all night, thanks to our misunderstanding on how cold it would get. And I was cold despite that all through the night I was wearing sweatpants, long johns, two pairs of socks, 5 layers above my waist including a fleece jacket, and a winter hat. How am I going to survive the night at camp I (4,900m), let alone camp II (5,700m) and camp III (over 6,000m)?

In conferring with Kaushal over breakfast, he told me he had anyway been thinking of doing just 2 upper camps, as long as I am acclimatizing ok and have the strength to climb from camp II to the summit and back. He said we may even be able to make it back to camp I that same day. This plan would eliminate any nights at camp III and require just 1 night at camp II and 2 nights at camp I. He also suggested the 4 of us sleep in one tent for added warmth from our body heat. That all sounded great, but I was still concerned about the cold at night, so once Rinko headed back I started using his sleeping bag - as a second bag in addition to my bag.

After breakfast, I hiked up the ridge of a nearby mountain with Kaushal and Devraj. We climbed for about an hour to 4,500 meters, 200m up from base camp, and then hiked back. The most important thing I learned during this short hike is that at these elevations, slow is the fastest way up the mountain: I practiced taking short, 2-3 second rests between steps, in order to keep my heartbeat from racing too fast. This is the surest way to build endurance at high altitude. The alternative for someone like me who is struggling with the high altitude would be to climb normally, which would get me extremely tired very quickly, necessitating long and frequent breaks, and sapping me of energy.

I felt pretty good when we returned to base camp, so it was time for a lesson in technical climbing, or mountaineering. I put on the mountaineering boots Kaushal had found for me in Manali, gators to prevent snow from getting inside my boots, and then crampons, which fit on the boot like a ski binding, with 12 steel points sticking out of them to grip snow and ice. I was also given an ice axe. We ambled up a nearby slope, and for the next hour I learnt the basics of mountaineering, including the arrest maneuver: If you find yourself sliding down the mountain, you use the jagged end of the ice axe to arrest your fall by plunging it into the mountainside with all your strength and holding on for dear life. I practiced the arrest maneuver several times, hopeful I would never have to use it. The most important thing I learned during this training was that climbing up steep, snowy mountains at high altitude while wearing a 30 lb pack is extremely strenuous and tiring. The nearest thing I can think of that's similar is if you've ever had to walk up a very steep ski hill wearing your ski boots and carrying your skis and poles. Every step is tiring. Climbing even 10 feet required enormous exertion, and left me breathless.

Once my training was over, the remainder of the day was a lazy one, which I was thankful for. After a leisurely lunch, I gave myself a much needed sponge bath with a warm pot of water -- my body's first contact with soap since we left Manali. I then arranged my pack for the next day's climb, which took a surprisingly long time. By now, after experiencing just how strenuous the climb would be, I was determined to carry with me the absolute minimum. Unfortunately, that still left me with a lot to carry: A 3-liter pouch of water, emergency survival kit, first aid kit, talcum powder, various medicines, headlamp w/ extra batteries, an extra set of dry clothing, a few pair of socks and underwear, winter mitts, winter gloves, neck gator, winter hat, sweater, fleece jacket, wind breaker, down winter jacket, long johns, sweatpants, journal & pen, sunscreen, sun cap, sunglasses & case, toilet paper, energy bars, sleeping bag, hiking poles, crampons, gators, ice axe and climbing harness. Kaushal offered to carry my second sleeping bag (the one Rinko let me borrow) and my sleeping mat.

Evening sets in and with it a growing feeling of anticipation. The wind suddenly seems stiller, the river calmer, the clouds frozen in place, like actors behind the curtain right as it rises for the start of the next act. I feel right now a deep respect and awe for the Himalayan peaks all around me. They are immense and beautiful, but also unpredictable and dangerous (as we would soon discover). Do they scoff at us as we seek to conquer them? I don’t think anyone ever conquers these peaks, even if one makes it to the summit. At times, the mountains may decide to allow a climber to visit its zenith for a brief moment or two. At other times the climber is not allowed such privilge. In the latter case, if the climber is well prepared, smart and lucky, he turns back and waits for another day. If he is short on luck or ability or common sense, he may leave this world while on the peak he had intended to conquer.

Dinner was relaxing and tasty: Chinese macaroni, and warm banana custard for dessert, a welcome change from the holy trinity of Indian meals -- rice, dal and chapatti -- we've been subsisting on. My left hamstring started acting up this afternoon. The muscle is tightening from time to time when I walk, probably as a result of the morning's exertions. My left hamstring has been occasionally acting up on and off for the last year, so it's not much of a surprise. I applied some Iodex, an Indian homeopathic muscle relaxant I discovered in Ladakh last year which works better than anything else I've ever used. Hopefully it will not get worse, as a serious hamstring problem would in all likelihood end any hopes I have of reaching the summit.

I've been doing yoga daily, and today I repeated my yoga routine in the afternoon, partly to stretch out my muscles, but mostly because it's so enjoyable and relaxing in this heaven-like setting. Base camp is situated along a river with a strong current. The river is 15 to 30 feet wide, and too shallow even for a kayak. The water, sourced from the melting snow on the peaks surrounding us, is crystal clear, cold and delicious. We are completely surrounded by mountains -- 360 degrees of Himalayan peaks, none under 13,000 feet. My tent is a few feet from the river, and the soothing sound of the rushing water is trance-like. Our tents are the only signs of civilization. The nearest human beings are the villagers of Urgos, 3,200 feet below us in elevation.

Day 4 - Base Camp to camp I (4,900m)

12:30pm. Have just arrived at Camp I. 15,680 feet.

The day started on a very good note: The four of us had slept reasonably well. Kaushal led us in a Puja ceremony over a makeshift mini temple assembled out of stones, where we each sprinkled a gift offering (cooked by Balu) in four directions. Afterwards I led us in the Tefilath Haderech (Prayer for Travelers). Then Kaushal, Devraj, Bogwon and I headed out to Camp I. The next time we'd see Indu and Balu would hopefully be after successfully summiting Menthosa.

Our climb was mostly though snow, but I did not need crampons as the incline didn't warrant them, even though it seemed plenty steep to me. Parts of the climb were steeper than the top of the Paradise ski trail in Sugarbush. My hiking poles proved indispensible, as they kept me from losing my footing a few times, and a slip the wrong way would have sent me sliding down 20 or 30 meters.

We passed two incredible, immense ice sculptures, created by nature of course, and one glacial lake. The climb took me 5 hours, even though the distance covered was probably just 3 to 4 km. I stopped to take an extra breath or two after every step. Thanks to this "slower is faster" method of high altitude climbing Kaushal had taught my yesterday, I feel pretty good here at camp I -- I'm tired for sure, and I have a throbbing headache from the altitude, but none of the dizziness, nausea or disorientation I experienced when I arrived at base camp. We've pitched our tents in an isolated spot, on a snow bank right below a massive glacial wall, which looms over us as a miraculous work of art courtesy of mother nature.

Our only mishap today was that Kaushal caught whatever bug Indu has. So now he has a hacking cough, sore throat and low grade fever. I am somewhat concerned, to put it mildly, as Kaushal is the leader of our expedition. He said No Worries, Man. Apparently he's climbed much sicker than this. I'm not sure how much comfort this offers, but I don't really have any option other than to proceed as per plan....

4:30pm. It started snowing about 30 minutes ago. Not good.

Earlier we had some flurries. The good news is that we're well sheltered inside our tents, and Kaushal says any storms generally roll in only in late afternoon or evening. That is one very excellent reason to start out each day's ascent early in the morning. He said we should plan to head out to camp II tomorrow around 6:30am, and that we'd plan to head out to the summit from camp II around 3:00am.

While all these plans sound nice, right now I am perched on a snow bank in a small dome tent at just under 16,000 feet, and the snowstorm outside is getting stronger. The wind is howling and the tent is shaking. It is not a good feeling. I feel the need to burrow inside my two sleeping bags. I have two layers of clothing covering my feet and legs, 5 layers covering my torso, a gator around my neck and a winter hat, and yet I'm still cold. Snuggling inside the two sleeping bags helps. Dinner is at 6 so I have 90 minutes to kill. After dinner I'll get my things organized for the next day, and I'm estimating I'll be asleep by 8. At night there isn't much to do, it's a lot colder, the body is really tired, and so sleep is the best panacea once nightfall settles in and dinner is out of the way.

My appetite seems to be diminishing the higher up we get. I ate a small breakfast, a small lunch, and had tea and a cup of soup when we got to camp I. I'm not sure how much I'll be able to eat at dinner. One advantage of eating less is fewer bowel movements. Without going into too much detail, let's just say that when you're perched on a snow bank at 4,900 meters in a snowstorm, fewer bowel movements is a good thing!

85 minutes to dinner... I have absolutely no desire to venture outside, so how best to fill the timer? I'm enjoying the writing, and so how about a little philosophizing around Karma? Readers more interested in climbing that philosophy are invited to skip the next two paragraphs and rejoin me right before dinnertime...

Karma is a word with layers of meaning. It features in the teachings of Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism and Sikhism. Western tradition generally translates it to mean fate, with the implication that our fate is predetermined so best not to fret too much about it, especially when our fate takes a turn for the worse. From the very little I know, this definition barely scratches the surface relative to the layers of meaning, and the philosophical and spiritual implications of the word, not to mention the different way it is treated and interpreted across the four religions I mentioned. So, on a scale of 1 to 10 in measuring our depth of understanding of Karma, let's suppose "Karma=fate" gets us to level 1. And let's suppose a PhD in eastern philosophy and religion plus twenty years living among Hindu sadhus and Buddhist monks get us to level 10. My ramblings on this topic will hopefully bring up my level of understanding from 1 to 1.5... so still a long way to go, but a productive use of my time while I wait for dinner.

Up here in the Himalayan Mountains, we are above the tree line. The air is thin, and there is not a single sign of life - not a bird or insect or even a piece of moss growing out of a rock. The panoramic view is vast, stark and humbling. While we are attempting to reach the summit of the highest peak in the area, there are at least 20 other peaks visible to the naked eye, each above 4,000 meters, each majestic in its own right, each commanding awe and respect. The only way down is the way we arrived, by foot, using the reserves of strength in each of us. We are four men, each of us strong in body, mind and spirit and ready to help out one another, each with reserves of endurance and stamina (though my reserves pale in comparison with the other three in our company). Despite our individual and collective strength and resolve, we four are but a speck on this colossal mountain, and there are twenty other colossuses surrounding us. We are truly beholden to whatever fate, whatever karma, this mountain decides to bestow upon me. Up at these heights, I feel that worrying about what will happen next is rather pointless. We will do our best, and the rest is our karma, and there is really no sense fretting about it. Back in Bangalore or Boston, I might not feel this way - the essence of my being has always been about matching my will and resolve against whatever challenges I am facing. Back in the city, karma seems a quaint, folksy, even naïve and outdated concept. Up here in the great Himalayan range, karma is all there is. Knowing this to be true, I am calm, serene and at peace. So my karma will dictate whether or not I reach the summit, and I won't fight it. I think with this attitude I'm much less likely to get myself into trouble up here. Battling my karma doesn't make any sense to me above 14,000 feet -- it seems nonsensical and illogical, not to mention stupid and dangerous.

Kaushal suggested earlier that we all sleep in one tent for body heat. With his hacking cough, I'm not so sure that's a great idea anymore. I told him I'm not trying to be anti-social, but I'd rather sleep alone and be cold than catch whatever he and Indu have. He understood completely, and so that is how I came to be in this small, thin-layered dome tent all alone, while the other three are in the larger, better insulated tent which also serves as our kitchen. Devraj and Bogwon don't seem too concerned about being cooped up with Kaushal and his hacking cough all night.

5:30pm. I feel much, much better. My headache is gone, I feel rested, and I have no aches or pains. I feel ready for day 5, which is going to be the most physically demanding and technically challenging day of the expedition. We will have to climb up a glacial ice wall in the first half of tomorrow's climb. This will require us each to be tethered to a fixed line. From the ice wall on to the summit we will pretty much be continuously wearing crampons and using our ice axes. Kaushal expects tomorrow's climb to take about 6 hours.

6:45pm. Dinner's over. I wasn’t very hungry, so ate just a small portion of rice and potatoes, along with a small amount of tuna, a handful of nuts and two slices of cheese. I could have done without the tuna, nuts and cheese but forced myself to eat them for the protein. During dinner Kaushal told the story of how, 12 years ago, he decided to take a one year sabbatical from his high paying IT job in Bangalore to go trekking... 12 years later he's still on his sabbatical, happy as a clam. He's making decent money with his trekking company and more importantly he's doing what he loves. He's out on treks at least 200 days a year. For a while he was living in Ladakh at 5,000 meters. I asked him how long a while was. 4 years. He has been on every popular trekking route in Ladakh, Himachal Pradesh, Uttaranchal and Kashmir, and many of the lesser known ones.

7:30pm. I've got myself set up for sleep. I have to sleep lying diagonally, as it's the only position that allows me lie down with my feet fully extended, given how small the tent is. I'm still wearing two layers below the waist and 5 layers above the waist, the neck gator and winter hat, I'm zipped up in two sleeping bags, and it's still freezing. I really hope I won’t have to get up in the middle of the night to take a leak....

Day 5 - The Ice Wall (5,400m)

I'll start with the good news. We ended the day safe and sound, with no injuries and no lost supplies or equipment. Unfortunately, that's it for the good news. The day got off to a bad start. Kaushal had been up all night with his hacking cough. I'd had a poor sleep as well, as I had difficulty getting comfortable in the cramped tent resting on the uneven and slightly sloped snow bank. I was also cold all night, and I'm sure the altitude didn't help matters. For whatever reason, we were not ready to leave until 7:15am, an hour and fifteen minutes after our targeted departure time, and three hours later than we should have left, as it turned out. The next bit of bad news was that the snow was not in good condition for easy climbing. It was soft and crunchy, so nearly impossible to get a foothold into when climbing at a steep incline without crampons. Kaushal misjudged the snow conditions, so when we got to the ice wall after three hours of trekking, he told me I did not need my crampons. We were now at around 5,100 meters. Devraj and Bogwon were laying the fixed line, and once tethered to it I had to lift myself up the steep ice wall, using all four limbs along with the fixed line and my ice axe. The ice wall was as steep as 55 degrees in some places, and after an hour of slow and painful climbing I hit the steepest part of the wall. I couldn't find a way to hoist my body up any further, since my cramponless boots went right through the 6 inch layer of soft snow and slid off the ice underneath it. The only leverage I had was my arms. I tried with all my might to pull myself up using the fixed line as an anchor, but after several exhausting inches I simply did not have the upper body strength left in me, given the steep incline and the high altitude, to carry my body and pack any further up the mountain. In short, I found myself stuck on an ice wall on a 55 degree incline at 5,300 meters. I was calm since I knew that as long as I was tethered to the fixed line I was not in any danger. There was no chance I would slide down the 200 meters of ice wall I had managed to climb up in the last hour. I ended up waiting in this position -- dangling off the ice wall -- for almost an hour.

Bogwon was much higher, out of site, laying lines further up. Kaushal was near me, however he was very weak from the flu, continued hacking cough and lack of sleep. Eventually Devraj made it up to where I was, and the two managed to get my crampons off my pack and onto my boots, which turned out to be a trickier maneuver than it sounds. Once I had on my crampons I could use my entire body strength, including my legs, to pull myself up the wall. However, I was exhausted by this point, as it was 5 hours since we had left camp I, and I had not eaten or rested (unless you count the hour of dangling on the ice wall as resting). So even with the crampons on, I needed to exert my calf muscles, my knees and arms, all while still carrying my pack at an altitude I had never been at before. I was so exhausted that I was literally stopping to take 10 deep breaths after every step. At that pace, it was taking me a very long time to move up the rst of the ice wall. After what seemed like an eternity - it was 1 hour -- we made it to a plateau of sorts. I say of sorts, because we were still on the ice wall and there was a high risk of sliding down it if we were not tethered. But I was able to take off my pack finally, which I tethered to the fixed line, and then I was able to half sit and truly rest my body. I also ate a little -- and energy bar and some nuts and raisins -- the first food since departing from camp I six hours earlier.

Despite all I'd been through I was feeling pretty good. None of my muscles were aching, and I did not have the throbbing headache of the day before. However, we had lost two precious hours in the misadventure on the ice wall, my strength was waning, and the gathering clouds over us indicated another late afternoon storm was highly likely. We were not even half way to camp II. The next 200 meters in elevation apparently weren't any easier than the last 200. We deliberated on our next move. It seemed unlikely we would make it to camp II before the storm hit, so we had only two options: Head back down to camp I, or push on and find an alternate site to pitch camp for the night between somewhere between our position and camp II. We eventually agreed on this latter option. I steeled myself for the next 200 meters. We agreed if I did not make it up this steep section within 2 hours, we would turn back. I also let them know that if I found my body completely emptied of strength at any point, I would blow my whistle as a sign that we should turn back.

After having rested almost and hour and having eaten something, I was making much better progress. I needed only 5 to 7 breaths in between steps, a marked improvement from the 10 breaths before this rest. However, 30 minutes into this leg of the climb an avalanche came upon us. We were all tethered to the fixed line except for Devraj, who was busy setting up ropes for the next section. To make matters worse, his pack and ice axe lay beside him in the snow, neither tethered to him or the fixed line. Contuing our streak of bad luck, the avalanche bypassed Bogwon, Kaushal and I, who were all securely tethered to the line, and hit Devraj square on. He, his pack and his ice axe all started to slide down the mountain. Devraj is well over six feet tall, strong as an ox, and has the lanky arms and legs of a centerfielder (he even bears a passing resemblance to Andre Dawson). He had managed to grab hold of the fixed line with one hand, and was somehow able to wrap his other hand around a loose strap of his pack before it slid out of reach of him. For a few seconds, Devraj was in a position I will never forget: He was perpendicular to the mountain, both arms stretched as far they could go, his right arm gripping the line above him, his left arm holding onto the pack below him, as the avalanche passed over him. Then all was calm again and Devraj quickly uprighted himself. We all realized instantly that disaster had been narrowly averted. Without his ice axe to arrest his fall, Devraj would have slid down 200-300 meters if he had not managed to hold onto the line. While it's unlikely he would have been gravely hurt, he would have been shaken up badly and injured, and his pack would almost certainly have been lost. In short, the expedition would have been over.

Kaushal scolded Devraj severely for his carelessness. Devraj still had to find his ice exe, which was buried somewhere under the snow, and he promptly started to dig around for it. While we were all fine, the avalanche was a wake up call to the fact that the snow was simply in awful condition at this moment - awful for climbing and prone to avalanches. Kaushal made the call for us to turn back and return to camp I. We were all disappointed -- in my heart I knew this meant I would probably not make it to the summit -- but it was the wise course of action. We were able to rappel most of the way back, and even so it took us almost 2 hours. We arrived back at camp I eight hours after we had headed out that morning. I was utterly exhausted, completely spent. With great difficulty I removed my climbing gear and then collapsed inside my tent. Kaushal was not in much better shape, due to how sick he was and the lack of sleep.

3:30pm. I'm lying down on the tent floor, writing about this day. It's clear to me that Kaushal's ill health played a major role in what went wrong today. I'm certain it contributed to our late start, and to his poor judgment in sending me up the ice wall without crampons. Looking out the tent, I suddenly realize there's a fierce blizzard outside. It's much worse than yesterday's storm, and it dawns on me the avalanche was a blessing in disguise, as it would have been miserable camped up somewhere around 5,600m in this blizzard. I'm thinking about tomorrow, and what we should do. In my exhausted state, it's difficult to imagine a second go up the ice wall. I'm starting to doubt myself, wondering if I have enough upper body strength to make it to the summit. And I'm deeply concerned about Kaushal's judgment given his condition, and how this might impact the rest of our climb. So I need to have a heart to heart with Kaushal.

4:00pm. Kaushal and I had our heart to heart. He did not wholeheartedly agree with me when I called out his errors in judgment, although he did agree he should not have sent me up the ice wall without crampons. He said he did this because he thought the snow was in better condition, based on its condition at camp I. Regarding my strength, he agreed my upper body strength would be put to the test and stretched to the limit. He also introduced a third concern: The weather is very bad, and this afternoon's storm (still going strong) is particularly bad, and extremely unusual for this time of year. He thinks the snow will be up to our waists as we approach the summit., and that the likelihood is very low we will reach the summit. It's not a huge surprise at this point, and it also makes the next decision very easy: In the best case scenario it would take me a solid 8 hours of very tough climbing to reach camp II tomorrow, and if we can't proceed to the summit all I will have achieved is getting 300 meters higher than the 5,400 meters I reached today, and as an added bonus the opportunity to freeze my butt of for a night at camp II. And that's the best case scenario. So we'll return to base camp tomorrow. I could climb one of the nearby peaks as a consolation prize; on the other hand, Leh beckons...

At this point in time, sitting in my tent at camp I, I don't feel any disappointment that I did not reach the summit of Menthosa. As I wrote yesterday, up here it feels natural to me to accept whatever karma the mountains bestow upon me. It would be unnatural to feel otherwise. Today was the most physically challenging and exhausting of my life. I tested my physical strength, my will and my resolve in ways they had never been tested before. I had the privilege to be up in the heart of Menthosa, the most beautiful and awe-inspiring mountain I have ever seen. I've had an incredible experience, and I'm grateful for it.

6:45pm. I ate masala noodle soup, a bit of tuna and a mango for dinner. My appetite continues to diminish. The blizzard is still going strong. It's clear now we made the right decision turning back -- had we pressed on, there's a good chance we might have been snowed in wherever we camped for the night.

Day 6 - Camp I to Base Camp
Heaps of fresh snow everywhere. Kaushal figures last night's storm deposited at least a foot on the summit. We left early, planning to eat breakfast back at base camp. We reached there in 2 hours. Kaushal's dogs came running up to greet us when we got within site of the tents, barking and wagging their tails. I asked Balu for cornflakes with hot milk and honey, and a cup of chai. Later, he warmed up a big pot of water so I could give myself a sponge bath. I feel like we're at a 5-star resort. I plan to laze around all afternoon, and tomorrow morning will hike back down to Urgos village, and from there I will start the two day journey by rode to Leh.

Postscript - Bangalore
The days preceding and following the climb will be covered in subsequent blogs. I returned to Bangalore very tired, and somewhat dehydrated, and my blood pressure had dropped. I heard from Kaushal a week after I got back. He had stayed at base camp waiting for his next clients - two experienced climbers in their twenties from the US. I assumed they would have had no difficulty summiting the mountain, given their twenty year age advantage over me and their climbing experience. Kaushal told me they never made it past camp I: An even worse storm rolled in their first night at camp I, and they were literally stranded at camp I for three days, and then returned to base camp. While I felt badly for them, I felt pretty good about having reached most of the way over the ice wall, to 5,400m (17,700 feet). While I have no regrets, I have plenty of lessons learned, and am already thinking about when I might return to give Menthosa another try...

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