I asked Ashraf Aman the same old question, what were your emotions when you stood on top of the second highest mountain in the world?
The first Pakistani to ascend K-2, Ashraf not only related, but also recreated the experience with his wild gesturing, smiles and a lot of pride. From his facial expression one could see that he was transported back in time and at that very moment was standing on top of K-2, experiencing the same joy and pride, waving the Pakistani flag as he had done years ago.
K-2, like all the great mountains, has had its share of tragedies and tales of sorrow. While we celebrate those who came back, we must remember those who never did.
What about Lashkar Khan whose frozen body still adorns the eternal snows of K-2? Framed in a upright position he is there near the summit, his face blackened with the impact of winds and blizzards. Almost twenty years ago he was accompanying a French mountaineer as a high-porter. They came across a thin gallery of ice, over an abyss and while they were trying to cross it, Lashkar Khan’s lungs suddenly collapsed due to the height and he died then and there. It was impossible for the French mountaineer to bring back his body to the base camp and the only alternate was to push it into the abyss below. The French gentleman did not have heart to do that as Lashkar Khan was not only a high-porter but a dear friend as well. So he covered the frozen body of Lashkar Khan with a terpal, left the face open and then secured it with nails. After so many years he still stands erect, framed within the snows of K-2. Even today, when a porter or a mountaineer comes across Lashkar Khan and pays his tribute to the frozen man who has become a legend.
I fondly remember, John Smolich who led an American expedition during a particular dangerous year when K-2 claimed dozens of lives and some of the Balti porters abandoned the base camp fearing the wrath of the mountain. My younger brother, Lt Col Mubasshir Hussain Tarar was appointed the liaison officer to this American expedition and I went to Rawalpindi to see him off.
There in a large colonial room of Flashman Hotel I met John Smolich, feverishly packing and organizing hundreds of cartons contain mountain equipment and food to be carried to the base camp of K-2. He was rather boyish and very handsome. I jokingly requested him to take care of my kid brother who was a dashing young captain at that time and John replied with a huge grin, “Well, I will do that, provided the captain takes care of me as well.”
Upon his return, Mubasshir, shattered by the tragic experience, narrated the fate of smiling John. “He had gone up to Camp Three, along with a team member to supervise the transportation of equipment and they were coming down quite effortlessly. From the base camp we were keeping an eye on their movements through our binoculars, when all of sudden a huge mass of ice, that had been hanging there for centuries, collapsed on them. Immediately a rescue team was dispatched and when they reached the spot, they could only see an arm of John protruding from the now frozen ice mass; the rest of his body was buried in it.”
He was brought back to the base camp and that evening we finally buried him in the crevices below the Gilky memorial. The rocks on the Gilky Memorial, underneath K-2 are adorned with pots and pans bearing the name of those mountaineers who rest forever underneath its snows. The expedition was abandoned.
Then there was great Hiroshima, whose love for Pakistan verged on madness; a Japanese who took pride in calling himself an adopted Pakistani. Hardly a year went by when Hiroshima did not visit his adopted country. He trekked and climbed, and upon his return lectured and propagated the beauties of Pakistani mountains. Once when the Indians organized an expedition to climb K-2 from Chinese side, it was Hiroshima who led a campaign against it, claiming that it was a Pakistani mountain. I missed a chance of meeting the great man while I was leading a trekking expedition into the Pamirs, beyond Lake Kromber. Hiroshima was there in the valley of Broghil and he sent me an invitation to dine with him that evening. Unfortunately, despite the offer of rice wine, I could not accept it as I had to push on to cross Darkut Glacier.
About four years ago, Hiroshima along with some of his Japanese friends scaled a minor peak next to K-2 and on his way back, an unexpected avalanche engulfed the team and six of them died at the spot, including Hiroshima. I happened to be in Skardu at that time and met a shattered Nazir Sabir who was very close to Hiroshima.
A special plane brought the families of dead mountaineers from Japan so that they could see the bodies of their dear ones and bury them. But they could not proceed to the base camp of K-2 for the purpose as the roads were blocked and the weather did not permit helicopter flights. Finally the Japanese families gathered at the banks of Braldo River that flows down the snows of K-2. Lit candles and handwritten messages were dropped in its waters in the memory of their dear departed. So the adopted son of Pakistan, Hiroshima, came to rest in the snows near K-2, never to leave again.
But amongst all these tales of sorrows, the story of Alison Hargreaves reads like a Greek tragedy. Alison a mother of two, a housewife from England, the most daring climber after the Polish Wanda, scaled the Everest summit solo and then headed straight for K-2 to create an unbelievable record. Solo Everest and the solo K-2 in the same go. But records require you to summit a mountain and then come back alive, and she did not. It is said that she did conquer K-2, but was buried in a snowstorm on her way back.
Next year her husband arrived with their two kids who wanted to see “Mummy’s Mountain”. They reached the base camp of K-2 under the expert guidance of Ashraf Aman where the kids sketched and painted “Mummy’s Mountain” hoping to preserve the snows in their sketchbooks, underneath which lay their dear mummy.
On Ashkole Road, beyond which lies the king of mountains, across a bridge on Braldo, near the camp site of Thungle, you can still see a plaque on a rock placed by her husband and kids which reads as follows;
Mother of mountains,
Such wonder you conceive, how can one so small,
Dream of measuring their scale?
In fond memory of ALISON HARGREAVES
Who died on her way down after successfully scaling
The summit of Chogori, Mount Godwin Austin (K-2) on August, I3, I995.
The last tale I am going to tell, is not that tragic, but of an event that took place right on the top of K-2 summit. Well not exactly on the summit, but slightly higher than that -- in the sky above it.
My travelogue about the trek up to Concordia K-2 Kahani had recently hit the stalls when Tariq Anwar of PIA, during an official dinner came up to me. “Tarar Sahib, would you be interested in a launching ceremony of your book K-2 Kahani?
I told him that normally I do not indulge in this activity; instead of launching my books in ceremonies, I launch them directly to my readers.
“But it will not be run of the mill usual launching ceremony,” he said enthusiastically. “Your book is about K-2, right. We will arrange a launching in a PIA jet while flying right over the K-2 summit. Are you interested?”
Was I interested?
A special Safari flight left Islamabad airport with hordes of journalists and television crews from all over the world, including BBC, German and Greek television teams. The jet flew over the same route that I had traversed in days and spotted some of the camping sights, below including Paiyo and Urdukus. Finally flying over the Concordian glaciers, we saw the great K-2 looming large and rushing toward us in the pilot’s cabin. In a few moments we were on top of the summit.
I presented a copy of K-2 Kahani to the pilot in full view of king of mountains, a bridge between the earth and heavens and we were flying in those heavens.
“Tarar Sahib”, the pilot thanked me and said “You have exactly six minutes to launch your book while I keep circling the K-2 over its summit.”
The PIA MD of those days presided over the ceremony, the speakers had only one minute each to express their opinions about the book. I was too overcharged with emotions to say anything; I could never in my wildest dreams could imagine that my K-2 book will be launched right over the summit of K-2.
Tariq Anwar planned to send the details of this unheard of book launching to the Guinness Book of Records people, I am not aware of the fate of this dispatch if at all it was executed.
Those were the days when I dreamt of Shah Gori and had the strength to fulfil my dream. But now I can only dream, until of course another PIA jet or army helicopter takes my aging body to my beloved, Shah Gori.
I asked Ashraf Aman the same old question, what were your emotions when you stood on top of the second highest mountain in the world?
