From 0 to 8000m - A journey to the highest peaks -Part II: Higher than the clouds

This is the second part of the story of my 27 days expedition in Kyrgyzstan to attempt Lenine Peak summit, reaching 7134 meters of altitude. You can find the first part here.

Hard days at Camp 1

Located on rocky ground at an altitude of 4,400 metres, camp 1 is comprised of the main tent, the kitchen, the staff tents, all surrounded by a few dozen sleeping tents nestled between two rivers. Electricity is only available for a few hours a day, we shower with a bucket, and the Russians are as friendly as a prison gate. The hardest part is without question the squatting toilets that will forever put hygiene standards on a different level.

We make sure to stay hydrated by boiling water before drinking it to avoid sickness. Two containers in the main tent provide a constant supply of it. I add an electrolyte tablet to re-mineralise the water each time I’m filling my bottle.

Camp 1 looks like a roman encampment

The food isn’t good. It mostly consists of boiled meat, pasta drenched in oil, melon and watermelon — there is little variety. Whatever comes out of the kitchen is barely warm, but we settle for it. The day after our arrival, we set out to visit another camp, about an hour’s walk away, near the glacier.

I get out of breath quickly and constantly have a headache. It’s altitude sickness, but for now, the symptoms aren’t serious. Combined with the lack of sleep caused by Nico’s coughing, I start the third day exhausted, having barely slept. Unfortunately for me, the day is dedicated to the ascent of Yukhin Peak, over 5,000 meters high. Nevertheless, we all reach the summit, except for Nico, who felt too weak and preferring to stay back and rest. His condition is worsening, and the altitude isn’t helping.

The team at the summit of Yukhin

I forgot to mention that the day before, we walked to the top of a large hill. I took the opportunity to try out my 8,000-meter boots as I dread the idea of them hurting my feet. Perhaps the altitude is affecting my mind, it took me thirty minutes to realize I’d only packed one of the two boots in my bag. Everyone laughed, and I got my share of roasting, but I deserved it. The next day is a full rest day to prepare for the hard ones ahead.

Climbing under the stars

We do our first rotation to higher altitude on the morning of the fifth day. We get up before 3 a.m, and I’ve barely slept. The hurried preparations in the night, illuminated by our headlamps, feel surreal. Nico isn’t joining us; he coughed and vomited all night. He’ll take the day to rest and attempt the ascent the next day with a guide he’s hiring — Milan, age 22, who has climbed Everest three times.

No one is truly themselves in the rush of a night departure

We set out under the stars, following the glacier. My headlamp isn’t working properly, and I ask the group for one. I was supposed to have a spare, and Serge scolds me. Although usually a joker, he’s serious about safety.

An hour later, we arrive at the foot of the peak — a dizzying wall of ice and snow towering above us. We rope together in groups of three. I find myself with Stephane, one of the oldest members and Serge’s friend, attempting Lenin for the second time. Well experienced, he naturally takes the lead. I’m in the middle, and Hélène is at the end. After more than an hour of climbing, I’m already questioning what I’m doing here — it’s so hard. Even at a slow pace, my heart rate shoots up; I’m struggling to breathe but know I have to keep this pace for hours more.

The sun rises behind us, illuminating the valley. The view is a scarce consolation. We carefully progress across crevasses, following Stéphane’s advice. I’d like to avoid what happened to another climber who broke her ankle trying to jump across one of them.

We reach our first challenge: crossing the seracs with a fixed rope.

Seracs are enormous blocks of ice, as tall as buildings, that could collapse at any moment

We need to cling to a rope fixed along a steep, icy slope. The jumar, a tool clipped to our harness, allows us to attach to the rope and pull ourselves up with arm strength. Somehow, after what feels like an eternity, we make it past the seracs. We continue climbing, and I’m already worn out.

Scorching sun

We face more crevasses, even deeper than the first. Some require a ladder to cross. I make a mistake at a relay, using the wrong carabiner to clip on, but Stéphane helps me untangle myself. Several hours pass, and we reach an avalanche site from a few days prior, passing through ice blocks the size of wardrobes.

Some crevasses can be dozens of metres deep

I’m at my limit, and the sun is relentless. I start asking for breaks more and more often, every other fifteen minutes. I used to be able to put down my backpack, but I don’t dare to do it now, fearing I won’t have the strength to lift it again. I’m taking a step every five seconds. At the top of the last ridge, I finally spot Camp 2 below.

The climb to camp 2

My heart sinks when I see the last slope before reaching it. It isn’t long, but at my pace, it’ll take another hour to get there. Serge radios to ask us if we need help with our packs. I refuse, partly out of pride, partly because I don’t want to drain the energy of another team member.

We eventually reach the camp at 5,300 meters, and I collapse in tears before Serge after over 11 hours of climbing.

Part III coming soon.