ski peak 10th june 2010

snow and wind made for a distracted night. Then because I didn't have to get up early I woke at 4a.m. CHILLY Struggled out of tent at 7.30 a.m. and chit chat with Anna all morning. By noon I was getting itchy knickers and we went to do a small peak I'd spotted yesterday. So we padded up from 4,000m to 4670m. in 23/4 hours. Got great views from the newly named ski peak and had a fab ski down in fresh, in ten minutes!

Three Peak.

Awoke to good weather this morning. Another 2 hour blister inducing walk in ski boots to get to the snow and then a beautiful skin up to the peak at 4750m. Stunning view of a quite cloudy Lake Zarcol with not a lot of snow. An amazing ski down in Spring Snow and then back to camp to the quizzical look of a friendly Kyrgyz man who couldn't quite get over the weight of ski boots of the general idea of skiing. No one has seen it here before. Weather is not great - very changeable, not sure what our next move shall be on our horse/ski mountaineering odyssey.

Lake Zarcol

We woke up excited to be finally going to the lake. After three hours of waiting for the h orses the excitement slowly wore off. Finally a big fat man on a small skinny horse trotted up. Not quite what we expected. Evenrually two other Kyrgyz arrived and we loaded the horses. Big fat man heaved himself onto h is heavily loaded horse. He wasn't walking anywhere. After four hours of mind numbing walking I understood big fat man. I was in that exhauted meditative state when a Mirafe appeared. A handsome Kirgish man dressed in colourful garb zoomed above me on his horse. A quickhandshake and salaam and he disappears into the dust. On we plodded, getting more perturbed as we saw how far the snow line was from us. Getting to do any skiing here is going to involvwe a lot of agonizing ski-boot walking. Finally we arrived at the lake. With big golden marmots whistling our arrival. It's a lush spot. A broad valley caressed by the snowy peaks of the small Pamir. Whether we will get to ski is another matter.

Mountain Make-over

Today we decided to have a rest day, having been on the go for 8 straight days - lucky as the weather turned out to be absolutely minging! Our two Afghan guides disappeared so I took the opportunity to get naked and have a proper wash. First time my skin has seen water in 11 days....I also borrowed Anna's mirror. BIG MISTAKE My face is etched with valleys and crevasses like the Hindu Kush. I slap on a load of moisturiser and quickly return the mirror to Anna. Best not to look again...Mid moisturiser application the snow started and by the time I got to washing my toes it was a full on, ten- slapping storm. This afternoon Anna and I are huddled up in the communal tent with washed clothes dripping on us as we review our rapidly diminishing food stocks. Luckily I have a healthy supply of marmite bars......

Three days of not seeing any buildings and then..

Yesterday we came across a smokey stone hut with a Kirgish family who generously offered us Clotted cream, bread and yoghurt. Amazingly these people with so little were so generous. Today we woke up to a chilly wind and snow and set off towards the lakes After three hours into the wilderness we passed an ex soviet era camp with its barbed wire and other detreitus that seem to cut into the landscape like an open wound. This area was a key strategic point nestled between Pakistan, China and the ex USSR. We then came across Bozai Gumbaz all of four houses

We bought bread from the beautifully clad local women, the kids were very curious and giggling as they must rarely see Westerners. It was lovely. We continued on but then the weather worsened and after a long conflab we decided to turn back towards the proximity of Bozai. The locals seemed pleased to see us again and offered us bread and more lovely clotted cream. I am now in my little plastic tent the snow beating against the side....

Snow Horses

Loaded horses wallowed with snow upto their bellies. We dragged ourselves up ,the horses staggered. We had got up at 5.30 am hoping the snow would be firmer...wrong. What about the descent? Amazingly the path was clear and we were able to ski down. We were now high on a ledge with the River Oxus hundreds of metres below us. This was an amazing motivation for a novice horse rider as my self to cling on as I stared at 1000 metre drop below. As we head further east towards lake Chacmartin everything from bombs to burkhas seems a world away .Our only encounters so far have been with a handful of Kirgish nomads and their yaks. We are mostly spellbound as we walk ride and ski towards the Pamirs the roof of the world.

Afghan equestrian school

We are going beyond the end of the world, my horse awas panting so hard I could feel it's stomach heaving through the blanket thoughtfully provided for my noivce bottom. At 3500m I couldn’t take it any more so I gingerly clambered off and releived the poor beast from an extra 70 kg. I then heaved myself up towards the pass every step taking us beyond the end of the world. As we headed towards the second higher pass the snow patches became thicker and we passed past some yaks and heard men, nightmare. The guides say the horses can't get over the pass due to the snow. Having just had six hideous days bumping in 4 x 4 to get here my heart drops. I thought that was game over the horse men decide to try again early tomorrow morning before the snow melts and anna and I went to attempt a small peak half way up the snow was super slidey so we skied back down. My life is worth more than a random afghan peak.

Horse, ski mountaineering.

I think the peak is about 4000m said Anna. Six hours later at 4500m I was feeling pretty exhausted. My feet were on fire and my throat drier than the sahara. 1600m assent for our first acclimatization climb. Bold. We started the day bumping on trotting horses across the river. I quickly learned when to lean forward, tense muscles and hold on tight and managed a triumphat first ride ever. We then scrambed 2 hours up to the snow line with heavy skis and ski boots in backpacks. We were in skins for four more hours to get to the peak. The view of Pakastan was worth every sweaty painful step. Skis then turned downhill and we had the most gleeful descent in good spring snow. 6 hours out for a ten minute ski down. The Yin and yang of ski mountaineering. Today was beyound a dreaam putting this trip together has been complicated, subtle, expensive and sometimes seemed impossible. Today's hourse ski mountaineering trumps all these difficulties and we have a first assent/descent of the newly names Peak Suzannah.

TAJIKS KEEP US IN SUSPENDERS.

"No good" says the Tajik customs man shaking his head. When he speaks he is even fiercer than his moustache. He takes my passport and shows me a tiny paragraph on the details page. He points at me and asks if I want to go to Riga. "No I don't want to go to Riga, I have just flown into Tajikistan from there. I am just passing through Tajikistan to get to Afganistan where Anna my Italian friend and I will go ski mountaineering". But no, it seems I am going nowhere. He keeps my passport and waves me through to a teeny room where the luggage will arrive later. He calls me back and shows me my passport photo in a special security machine. My face has melted. I am the mountaineering Michael Jackson. He stares at me and I shrug. I don't think I look like my passport photo either. Shall I try to bribe him or not? I decide not. If he asks for money I'll give it. Meanwhile Anna is missing a bag. The other passengers have all left apart from a disgruntled looking consulate worker. He is missing luggage too. Then comes a miracle. The customs man reappears, he shrugs, gives me my passport, and I make a quick exit before he changes his mind. Brilliant. Anna was completing a meaningless lost luggage form for a bag she will never see again.

Afganistan is so close we can touch it during our 2 day journey through Tajikistan. The track/mud/river bed we drove along bordered the River Oxuf which forms the frontier between the 2 countries. After a dusty bumpy ride we reach the border although it appears to be closed. Eventually the smoking soldiers open up and all is proceeding smoothly as they process our visas. But I turn around and am horrified at the vision before me. Anna is filming with her handicam. It takes the soldier a few seconds to register then the shite hits the fan. The customs police are angry and we cannot contine, our expedition appears to be over before it has started. In an attempt at appeasement Anna desperately takes a tape out and offers it to them, but they are unmoved. I want to snatch it from her, throw it on the floor, stamp on it with my heavy mountain boots and attack it with my ice axe. Our Afgan fixer arrives and can at least communicate with them. Slowly the matter is settled with cash, cigarettes and diplomanacy. We heave our kit across no man's land and are ecstatic to arrive in Afganistan. Not something you hear every day.

Have map will travel

Having spent hours boring myself and my computer to tears looking for a map of the Wakhan Valley in Afghanistan, some one sent me one. Amazing. A mystery bunny hugger environmentalist who has apparantly spent loads of time in the area over last few years emailed me some stuff which I was able to print off and I have spent the last few hours merrily sticking them together to create a 'map' of where I will be ski mountaineering. Maybe now I won't mistakenly wander over the border into Pakistan and find Osama.