HINKU & HONGU VALLEYS:- "The Heart of the Himalaya"
There
are no easy access ( or escape )
routes to the panch pokhari ( five small lakes ) ensconced
at the head of the spectacularly beautiful Hongu Valley.
The
normal approach begins with a white-knuckle
landing at the tiny, sloping airstrip at Lukla
perched half-way up a steep mountainside above the deep, dark
gorge of the Dudh Khosi. ( For those
without recent high-altitude experience the traditional walk-in
from the roadhead at Jiri, or, the
less frequented back-door route from the Arun Valley over the
Salpa Pass, is advisable. )
Directly
above Lukla the 4000metre high
Zatrwa La gives access to the tranquil yak pastures of the
Hinku Valley dominated by the towering cliffs of Mera Peak and
the nameless but equally impressive
Peak 43. On route from the cluster of yak herders' huts at
Tangnag at the head of the valley to the
glacial, high pass of Mera La the increasing altitude enforced
many halts but these allowed time
for a full appreciation of Thamserku and the spectacular spire of
its South-East Peak. Some
100metres below the col a set of gravel beds provides a sheltered
campsite ensconced beneath the
snow slopes of Nau Lekh.
Jubilant
with our success I descended
through the swirling spindrift from the summit of Mera Peak
( 6461metres ) with Horst and Lal Bahadur our climbing sirdar.,
In the far distance below, nestling
at the foot of the sheer, ice-and- rock walls of the massive
south-west face of Chamlang lay the
grey, narrow, forbidding confines of the Hongu Valley. Access to
this remote, uninhabited,
himalayan mountain-fastness is normally via high, snow-covered
passes although there is supposedly
an obscure and difficult low-level route from the south.
Our
plan for the days ahead was to drop to
the valley floor and follow the Hongu Khola northwards
to the wild and rugged Panch Pokhari at the valleyhead and then
return westwards across the
difficult Mingbo La high pass to familiar territory in the Solo
Khumbu.
Nearing
our high camp on an icy platform in
the shelter of a rocky outcrop ( c5800metres ) we
paused for a final appreciation of the tremendous himalayan
panorama extending before us. Ranged
along the northern horizon beneath clear azure skies were five of
the world's six highest peaks;
Kanchenjunga, Makalu, Lhotse, Everest and Cho Oyu. In the
foreground unfolded a profusion of
splendid shapely summits. Many we could identify from previous
expeditions but many more we could
not.
Next
morning after a leisurely start we set
off from our base camp beneath the snow slopes of the
Mera La ( c5414metres ) across a band of bare rock beds . Rough
scree slopes then led down into
a wide sandy basin followed by a gentle descent over green,
grassy hillsides to a pleasant campsite
beside a sparkling stream in a meadow beneath the imposing cliffs
of the nameless Peak 41
( c6654metres ).
From
the meadow a faint trail climbed
abruptly to a small lochan before contouring along the steep
rugged hillside still high above the Hongu Khola. On its eastern
flank the narrow valley was
overhung by the immense precipices of Chamlang, a fine 7000metre
mountain, and on its western flank
by those of Peak 41.
Bringing
up the rear of our party I was
suddenly startled by a commotion ahead. Something - or
someone - was falling down the steep hillside. I watched in alarm
as the rapidly rotating bundle
crashed down the slope jettisoning bits and pieces as it went.
Fortunately it was only a doko
( a conical wickerwork basket ). Lalu, our kitchenboy, had
stumbled on the rough terrain and to save
himself had slipped off his namro ( headstrap ) to release his
load. Everything was recovered
except a rolling pin - an essential implement for making the
ubiquitous chapattis.
The
track gradually dropped to the rippling
waters of the river where we encamped on the banks
amidst fragrant azaleas and shrub juniper overlooked by the high,
enclosing mountains.
Further
progress up the impressive,
unspoilt valley was made the following day. Near the head of
a frozen lake we reached the base camp of a French expedition
hoping to climb Mt.Baruntse, another
fine 7000metre summit, but beset with problems. Two of their
members were suffering from AMS
( acute mountain sickness ) and their high-altitude porters had
failed to arrive.
We
continued for a short distance before
pitching our tents in the boulder-strewn tundra now
beneath the elegant, ice-fluted summit of Chonku Chuli ( c6809metres
). In the evening the
surrounding tops flamed red in the final rays of the setting sun
whilst cheerful singing emanated
from the tent of our happy-go-lucky band of Sherpas.
"Good
morning uncle", greeted
Lalu bringing my early morning bed-tea. "Tikcha?" ( is
everything
OK? ). A similar greeting evoked a series of grunts and groans
from the neighbouring tent. Horst
was suffering from a headache and required a rest-day.
It
was another fine, bright, sunny morning
and I took the opportunity presented to set off with
Singi, our sherpa ( assistant sirdar ) for a shapely rock peak
rising above our campsite offering
the prospects of an interesting climb and a good viewpoint.
A
long, labourious grind up the lower,
stony slopes eventually gained a broad ridgetop. To the west,
across the valley, a fine view obtained of the broad, easy-angled
but badly crevassed slopes of
the Hinku Nup glacier leading up to the Mingbo La ( c5817metres )
- our escape route back to the
Everest region. Above the col jutted the imposing obelisk of Ama
Dablam ( c6856metres ).
Continuing
up the ridge frequent stops were
made to admire the long, icy crest and fearsome
north-west face of Chamlang soaring skywards immediately to our
south. Our vantage point provided
a proper perspective of the immense scale of such himalayan
giants.
We
traversed a rough scree slope to reach
the foot of the considerably steeper conical crown of the
rock peak. Although unladen with any climbing gear - even the
daysac was being carried by Singi -
I was finding it a hard struggle to make upward progress in the
thin cold air, surprisingly more so
than on Mera Peak when ice-axe, crampons and heavy climbing boots
had been used. The top looked
increasingly far off.
Great
care had to be taken in negotiating a
stretch of unstable rocks. I considered turning back.
Any accident would have serious consequences. There was no
prospect of any helicopter rescue from
the isolated Hongu Valley. "Bestari, bestari", ( slowly,
slowly ) urged Singi. However once across
this hurdle a fine airy scramble over large, solid boulders,
fatigue now forgotten, led to the
nicely pointed summit ( c5800metres ) and a dramatic outlook.
Only
a short distance away, looming above a
glacier, was the spectacular, dazzling, ice-hung bulk
of Chonku Chuli. Northwards from Chonku Chuli the pale pink
granite mass of Makalu ( 8463metres )
protruded above the seemingly vertical snow walls of the West Col
( c6135metres ). Further round
soared the precipitous south-west rockface of Baruntse ( 7220metres
) flanked by its satellite
range of peaks.
Beneath
us to the north we could see our
route onwards through the harsh, glaciated terrain to the
blue-grey lochans of the Panch Pokhari ensconced at the head of
the bleak, barren valley beneath
a high rugged escarpment breached by the hazardous Amphu Labtse (
c5780metres ) - the most
difficult of the possible escape routes from the Hongu Valley.
From
our campsite the route climbed over
tundra-covered hillocks beneath the mighty rock cliffs
of the Hongu South Peak ( c6057metres ), festooned with snow like
feathered-icing on some gigantic
cake, to the top of a lateral moraine then continued over the
rough, jagged crest to the frozen
tarns of the Panch Pokhari. On the approach we enjoyed a fine
view across a glacier lake to the
West Col rising sheer above extensive neves while ahead of us the
black, banded, summits of Lhotse
( 8501 metres ) and Everest ( 8848metres ) reared above the
escarpment at the valleyhead but
gradually disappeared as we got closer.
That
night was the coldest of our
expedition when the temperature plummeted to a bone-biting minus
25degrees centigrade - the coldest night I have endured - and the
ice-bound lakes and surrounding
snow peaks gleamed ethereally in the pale, wan light of a
crescent moon and star-spangled sky. In
the profusion the familiar constellations of Cassiopea and Orion
were difficult to discern.
After
a fitful sleep I set off alone next
morning in the welcome warmth of the sun to scale the
higher of two, small rocky peaks rising to the east of the Panch
Pokhari. An initial steep climb,
made difficult only by the altitude, was followed by a long
gradual ascent to the high point
( c5600metres ) at the far end of the summit ridge.
In
the profound eerie silence I surveyed
the awesomely beautiful himalayan landscape. Towering
directly overhead were the sheer, ice-bound walls of the
formidable ridge extending from Baruntse.
Prominent to the south were the massifs of Chamlang and Chonku
Chuli - their complex features
mirrored in the tranquil green waters of a nearby lochan. Along
the western edge of the valley
tumbling glaciers and high rock ramparts swept up from great
moraines and scree slopes to
culminate in lofty, snow-capped summits.
In
the afternoon we retreated from the huge
glacial amphitheatre and climbed into a side-valley to
encamp at the lake beneath the Hunku Nup Glacier encircled by a
ring of graceful peaks; Chamlang,
Hongu South Peak and Ama Dablam.
There
have been several fatalities on the
120metre abseil of the steep, 70degree, ice-flutings on
the west side of the Mingbo La and it took us all afternoon, with
one frightening moment when one
porter lost his footing, to get our ten Sherpas safely down and
across the bergshrund onto the
level neve of the Nare Glacier where we encamped beneath the
towering pyramid of Ama Dablam - a
spectacular, isolated peak akin to the Matterhorn.
The
sting in the tail of our trek was a
tricky descent through the ice-fall at the snout of the
glacier before we finally escaped from the himalayan fastness of
the Hongu Valley.
Back
at Lukla Lal Bahadur and our intrepid
band of Sherpas, who had enabled our journey through
this seldom explored, high-altitude region, were well rewarded
for their stalwart efforts. We had
been fortunate to have had an excellent trekking crew and to
enjoy perfect conditions for our
memorable adventure.
