Chapter 3 Chapter 1 Under the Mountain and Lake

I lay in my sleeping bag and watched the light sieve through the red and green tent cloth and into the tent.Simon was snoring loudly and twitching from time to time.We could be somewhere else, too?There is always a strange sense of uncertainty about being in a tent.As long as the zipper is closed, the world is blocked from sight, and it is impossible to feel where you are.Scotland, the French Alps, the Karakoram, all the same.The whistling wind, the pattering rain, the sound of the wind beating against the tent, the hard lumps on the ground felt through the tent pad, and the sour smell of socks and sweat are all the same in any corner of the earth, and they are all the same as a warm down sleeping bag Reassuring.

Outside the tent, the mountains will welcome the first ray of sunshine under the clear sky.There might also be vultures, attracted by the heat, to linger on top of the tents.This is also not surprising, I saw a vulture hovering over the camp yesterday afternoon.We are in the middle of the Cordillera Huayhuash in the Peruvian Andes, forty-five kilometers from the nearest village, and the road is extremely rough, surrounded by the most spectacular icebergs I have ever seen.While we were in the tent, only the roar of the avalanche on Cerro Sarapo reminded us of all this. I cling to the warm security of the tent, but reluctantly get out of my sleeping bag because I have to start a fire.It snowed a little at night, and the frozen grass crunched under my feet as I walked towards the rocks that served as a makeshift stove.I heard nothing as I passed Richard's one-person tent, half collapsed and covered with white frost.

A large overhanging boulder became our makeshift kitchen, and I crouched on the sheltered side enjoying total solitude.I poured gasoline into the gasoline stove, but the temperature was too low, and the gasoline contained rust. No matter how I fiddled with it, the stove still refused to ignite.Not long after, I lost my patience and decisively put the gasoline stove on top of the gas stove and turned on the gas stove to the maximum. Only then did the flames burst out violently, and the flames shot up to a height of more than half a meter.Although the gasoline is not pure, it still burns and crackles.

The stove simmered, and I looked around. The wide, dry river bed was rocky, and the boulders overhead were a good representation of the landscape of this large area, except for the extreme weather.Not more than two and a half kilometers away from the camp, a huge wall of ice and snow towered high, approaching the top of Sarabo Peak.To my left, two imposing ice castles rise from the vast moraine overlooking our camp, Yerupaja and Rasac.The majestic Siula Grande (Siula Grande) is 6344 meters high, hidden behind the Sarapor Peak and cannot be seen from this position.In 1936, two brave Germans made the first ascent from the northern ridge of the Seura Grande, and there have been few visitors since.However, the real laurel crown is the treacherous west wall, with a drop of more than 1,370 meters. All climbers who have attempted to climb so far have failed.

I turned off the stove and carefully poured water into three large glasses.The sun has not yet hit the opposite mountain ridge, and it is chilly in the shadows. Drinks are ready, if you're still alive!I am excited to announce. I kicked Richard's tent so hard it knocked the frost off.He crawled out of the tent, his facial features convulsed, and he shivered from the cold. Without saying a word, he grabbed a roll of toilet paper and went straight to the river bed. Still uncomfortable?I asked when he came back. Well, it's not very comfortable yet, but it's not that bad.It was so fucking cold last night!

I guess it might not be the bean stew that made him sick, but the altitude.We camped on a mountain nearly 4,600 meters above sea level, and Richard was no mountaineer. Simon and I met Richard at a cheap hotel in Lima, Peru, about halfway through his six-month South American expedition.Behind his metal-rimmed glasses, clean-cut outdoor attire and brisk demeanor lurks a sneer and a prodigal past scavenging by the sea.He once kayaked through the Zaire rainforest, eating larvae and berries with pygmies.He also witnessed a thief being kicked to death in a market in Nairobi, Kenya, and his traveling companion was shot dead by bloodthirsty soldiers in Uganda just because of a suspicious tape deal.

Note 1: Zaire, now the Democratic Republic of the Congo, referred to as Congo (Kinshasa) or Democratic Congo, was once renamed Zaire in the 20th century.Annotation He wandered all over the world, and when he was short of money, he worked hard to save travel expenses.I usually go on the road alone, and go wherever I meet someone in a foreign country.Simon and I agreed that it would be great to have such a fun caretaker at the camp who would help out with our gear while we were out hiking.It may be unfair to say this to the poor mountain farmers in this remote area, but after spending time in the back streets of Lima, we became suspicious.Anyway, we invited Richard and told him to join us for a few days if he wanted to see the Andes up close.

We arrived in the valley after a heart-pounding 130km drive in a rickety bus, bones nearly shattered.Forty-six people were crammed into the car with a limit of 22 people, and the large number of shrines and pagodas we saw along the way made us even more frightened. All the drivers and passengers who died in the car accident were buried inside.The engine of the car was tied together with nylon rope, and the tire was replaced with a shovel when it flattened. After getting off the bus, we walked for two more days.Towards the end of the second day, Richard started to suffer from altitude sickness.We were nearing the end of the valley and dusk was slowly falling.He urged us to drive the donkeys first so that we could set up camp before dark, and he would follow later, saying that the road was straight now and he could not get lost.

Richard staggered along treacherous moraine to a lake he mistook us for camping there, only to remember that there was another lake on the map.It had started to rain and the temperature was getting colder, and the thin shirt and cotton trousers he was wearing could not resist the night chill of the Andes.Exhausted, he descended into the valley to seek shelter.When he went up the mountain, he noticed some huts made of stone and iron sheets. He thought they were empty huts, enough for him to nest for a night, but he unexpectedly found that a large group of children had occupied them, including two teenage girls.

After a long negotiation, he finally found a place to sleep in the piggery next door.The shed boy gave him some cooked potatoes and cheese, and threw him a bundle of moth-eaten sheepskins to keep him warm.In the long cold night, the plateau lice enjoyed a long-lost feast on him. Simon came to the makeshift stove, and related vividly his dream of last night.He insisted that the mysterious hallucinations stemmed from the sleeping pills he took before bed.So I decided to give it a try tonight. While Simon made breakfast, I swallowed my last sip of coffee and started writing in my journal: □□□

May 19, 1985.camp.Frosty and foggy last night, clear sky this morning.I'm still trying to get used to this place.It's frighteningly remote, but refreshing, much better than the Alps. There are no crowds of climbers, no helicopters, and no rescue teams. It's just us and the mountains here, and life seems extraordinarily simple and real.It's easy to forget about mundane tasks and worries I wondered if I really believed what I was writing, and how it had anything to do with our activities in the Andes.Tomorrow we will start high acclimatization in Rosario North (Rsaric Norte).If we are in good health after ten days, we will attempt the unconquered west face of the Seura Grande. Simon handed him porridge and coffee, and asked: Shall we leave tomorrow? should be no problem.It doesn't take much time to pack lightly, and we can go down the mountain and return to camp just after noon. I only worry about the weather. Every day since we've been here, the weather has been the same: sunny in the morning, thick clouds rolling in from the east at noon, and rain sure to follow.On the slopes of high mountains, rain can turn to heavy snow, and avalanches can strike suddenly, cutting off escape routes.If such cumulus clouds appear in the Alps, climbers will immediately consider retreating.But the weather conditions here are a little different. I don't think the situation is as bad as it looks.Let’s just say yesterday, there were dark clouds and snow, but the temperature did not drop sharply, there was no lightning and thunder, and there seemed to be no strong wind blowing on the top of the mountain.I don't think it's a blizzard at all.Simon analyzed it carefully. Maybe he's right, but I always feel a little uneasy, are you suggesting we go hiking in the snow?Wouldn't it be a great risk to mistake a severe blizzard for normal weather? Yes, it is indeed an adventure.So we have to observe the changes in the weather, and we will definitely not be able to draw any conclusions by sitting here. you're right.I'm just worried about avalanches. Simon smiled, yes, your worry is justified, after all, you experienced an avalanche last time and managed to escape from death.I think it's more like the Alps in winter, with powdered snow instead of big, wet snow that doesn't trigger avalanches.Let's take another look. I envy Simon's carefree, easy-going attitude.He is capable of taking what is his and has a free soul to enjoy it without complaining, worrying or doubting.He often laughs heartily, seldom frowns, and always laughs off misfortune, as if it had nothing to do with him.He is tall and strong, and he can be said to be the pride of heaven.He's also a comfortable friend: trustworthy, genuine, always ready to laugh at life.He has thick blond hair, blue eyes that are always smiling, and has a crazy personality. People with this kind of quality are rare in the world, so they look very different.I am really glad that we decided to come here together.It's hard for me to spend so long with people.Simon had everything I lacked and always wanted. The next morning, when Simon and I were about to leave, Richard asked in a daze in his sleeping bag: When do you expect to be back? Three o'clock at the latest.We don't intend to spend too long, and if the weather suddenly turns bad, be sure to hurry back. Ok, good luck to you guys! The early morning frost had hardened the loose ground, and the road was easier than expected.It didn't take long before the rhythm of our steps began to stabilize, and the two of them walked in silence along the hillside full of small rocks.Every time I look back, I can see the tent shrinking in view.I started to enjoy the exercise and my body felt more adapted than expected.Despite the high altitude, we were moving fast.Simon kept a steady pace that matched mine.Before, I was worried that the gap in strength between him and him was too large.I can imagine how frustrating and stressful it can be if a climber finds his partner has to slow down to accommodate him, and struggles to speed up. How does it feel?I asked Simon during a short break. Pretty good.I'm glad we didn't smoke on the road this time. I nodded silently.Although I protested when Simon suggested not to bring cigarettes to the camp.I could feel my lungs working hard in the thin, cold air.Heavy smoking has never affected my mountaineering performance in the Alps, but on this expedition I had to agree that quitting was a wise move.We've heard enough about the risks of altitude sickness and pulmonary edema, and it's these stories that helped me get over my cravings the other day. We spent a few hours leaving the rubble-strewn slopes behind and headed north, with the goal of crossing a swathe of jagged buttresses to the col above.At this point the camp had completely disappeared from view.I realized immediately how quiet and deserted we were.For the first time in my life, I knew what it meant to be isolated from the world.There is a wonderful stillness and serenity here.I began to experience a complete freedom to do what I wanted, when I wanted, how I wanted.Suddenly, the whole day was different.All dullness is swept away by this exhilarating independence.Right now, we only need to be responsible to ourselves, not to anyone, no one will invade our world, and of course, no one will come to the rescue Simon was some distance ahead of me, climbing silently and steadily.Although his steps are more methodical than mine, I know that our cooperation is quite smooth now, so I no longer care about my speed and adaptability.I took my time, knowing that both of us would reach the summit without difficulty.When I encountered a wonderful scenery, I was very happy to stop and enjoy it for a while. Grooves are both loose and easily broken.When I walked around a yellow rock outcrop and saw Simon sitting on a col a hundred meters ahead, preparing a hot drink, my heart was filled with joy. The loose ground is not as bad as I thought.I said a little out of breath, leave the tea to me to brew. Have you seen the Seura Grande?It's there, to the left of Sarapor Peak. God!Amazing!Looking at the scene in front of me, I felt a sense of awe in my heart, even more majestic than what I saw in the photos! I sat on my rucksack as Simon handed me a steaming drink.I gazed at the entire range of mountains that lay before us.To my left, I could see the south face of Lasak, a huge ice slope cut across the mountain in bands that looked like striped marble.On the right side of the snow-covered peak in Lasak, the slightly lower Seria North Peak (Seria Norte) is connected to Lasak Peak with a steep snow-cornered ridge.The mountain ridge slopes down from the summit of Seria North Peak, and then twists and turns upwards after reaching the saddle, crossing the shoulders of two rocks continuously, until the cone-shaped peak of Yalupaha Peak.Yalu Paha is the highest mountain before our eyes, towering high above the Seurat Glacier, the ice and fresh snow on the mountain glistens like a king.The south wall of Yale Paha is a typical triangular shape.The west edge has steep snow eaves and dense rocks, arching upwards from the depression at the lower part of Sailia North Peak.The east ridge spirals down towards another col, and the surface of the mountain wall below is covered with parallel erosion grooves, which are all etched by powdery snow. Under the shadow cast by the sun, they look like strips of lace ribbons, making the People are amazed. I also recognized the Santa Rosa Col at the base of the ridge.We've seen it in pictures of Seura Grande, where the start of Yalupaja's southeast ridge and Seura Grande's north ridge meet.The latter hovers on the mushroom-shaped peak of the Seura Grande. The terrain at the starting point is not complicated. After that, it climbs all the way, and after a sudden turn, it narrows all the way and becomes a thin and steep mountain wall, covered with snow cornices and erosion ditches. Hanging precariously over the edge of the massive west wall. The West Wall is our dream.As soon as we met, I was a little confused, as if I had never met.Its actual size was unexpected, and the viewing angle was different from the photo, so I didn't quite recognize it until some more prominent features slowly emerged.A large group of cumulus clouds surged over the northern ridge of Seura Grande, and the vast rainforest of the Amazon Basin in the east heated up in the sun, sending moisture-rich clouds here. You're right about the weather, Simon.This is definitely not a blizzard.I bet it's just convective clouds from the jungle.I said. Yeah, just keep us from having a good fire and afternoon tea. What altitude do you estimate we are at now?I asked. About 5,500 meters, maybe even higher.What's wrong? Oh, we just set an altitude record and almost didn't notice. If you're sleeping at the same altitude as Mont Blanc, it doesn't seem like a big deal, right?said Simon, grinning mischievously. Wet flakes of snow started falling as soon as we finished our drinks.At this point the summit of Rosario Norte is still clearly visible, although it will disappear after a while.It was more than a hundred meters higher than the col we were in, and could be reached in a little over an hour in clear weather.Neither of us mentioned anything like going straight down the mountain.We have a tacit understanding that the top of that mountain is not included in this plan. Simon picked up his backpack and walked down the gravel slope.He ran and slid down the gully we'd just climbed, and we roared and laughed all the way down the loose slope for four or five hundred meters, trying to do ski tandems.By the time we got back to camp, we were all out of breath but refreshed. Richard handed us teacups, and he had already begun to prepare dinner, and made tea for us as soon as he saw us appearing on the slope.We sat by the whirring gasoline stove and told him what we had done and seen, talking incoherently from our excitement, until suddenly the rain came in gusts from the other side of the valley, We had to hide in the big tent. Around half past six, night fell.Anyone approaching our tent at this time would see the warm candles glowing red and green through the tent fabric and hear our whispered conversations.Richard told jokes about eight members of the New Zealand rugby team getting lost in the Central African jungle, and we burst into obscene laughter every now and then.Then we planned the climbing training that followed, and then played cards to pass the long night. Our next target was the south ridge of Cerrs Yantauri on the other side of the riverbed, unclimbed virgin ground, and since it looked so close we thought we should be able to see the camp all the way to the summit.The South Ridge ran from our right to our left, initially as a rock formation and then as a long, graceful ridge of snow-cornered ridges leading to a region of shaky-looking seracs from which it rose abruptly to the summit.We can camp high on the ridge when going up or down the mountain to make sure our guesses about the weather are correct. The morning was sunny and chilly, but the sky in the east looked very bad, and we decided to climb the south ridge of Jantoli the next day.Simon went to bathe and shave in the nearby thaw, and Richard and I went to the shed to see if we could get some milk and cheese from the girls. They seemed happy to see us and were happy to sell us their homemade cheese.Richard talked to them in broken Spanish and learned that their names were Gloria and Norma.The two slept in the shed while they took their father's cattle to graze in the highlands.They look rough and sloppy, but they take great care of the children who seem to have the ability to take care of themselves.We hang out in the sun and watch them work.Three-year-old Alicia (I've nicknamed her Paddington 2) guards the exit to the livestock pen to keep the cows and calves from escaping.Some of her older brothers and sisters are responsible for milking, some prevent the calf from suckling, and some use gauze bags to filter the whey.All the work was carried out without haste amidst laughter, and the atmosphere was very pleasant.We asked Gloria's brother Spinoza to help us bring some supplies from the village over the next few days, and then ate cheese all the way back to camp.As we walked, we kept an eye out for the clouds, which seemed to release their moisture earlier than usual.After two weeks of pasta and beans, we all looked forward to fresh veggies, eggs, bread and fruit so much that it was almost impossible to think. Note 2: British writer Mike.The protagonist of Pound's children's book "A Bear Named Paddington" is an anthropomorphic bear, which is very popular among teenagers and children.Annotation Early the next morning, we left the camp for Jantoli.It got off to a rough start.The gravel slope proved dangerous, with boulders constantly breaking loose and falling from the west wall above.We were nervous and trembling, and wanted to go faster, but the heavy backpacks held us back.Halfway up the gravel slope, Simon found that he had left his camera where he had just rested, so he unloaded his backpack and ran back.I continued to climb to the right and went to the lower rock wall to avoid the rocks that might fall at any time. By six o'clock in the evening, we managed to stand on a towering ridge.But at this time, the weather conditions took a turn for the worse, and the dark clouds rushed over quickly, and our position was exposed.When it was getting dark, we leaned against a small protruding rock wall and set up camping tents, and fell asleep uneasy.It snowed all night long, but the blizzard we feared didn't happen, seemingly confirming our weather theories. The next morning we set off with high hopes, climbing up the snow-covered South Ridge.But it was forced to give up at an altitude of 5,500 meters.The waist-deep snow powder made it difficult for us to move, and the mountain ridges covered with deep snow cornices were full of dangers.There is a double-layer snow cornice under the ice tower on the peak, and a crack divides the snow cornice into two.I entered the chasm from which I had a clear view of the entire west wall.We decided to call it a day. After descending the loose, rubble-strewn west face, we returned to our tent exhausted.At least we have some key weather conditions on our hands.Of course there could be a blizzard here too, but at least we don't have to retreat as soon as we see a cloud come up. Two days later we set out again.The target this time is the south ridge of the North Peak of Celia.Seen from the camp, Selia's North Peak is majestic and, so far as we know, unclimbed.When we get closer, we will understand why no one cares about it.When he was in his hometown of Sheffield, the British mountaineer Al.Louth (AIRgse) told us that this ridge is a bit tricky. After on-the-spot observation, we found that Al's reputation for being reserved is well-deserved.We slept cold and cramped for the night, and were exhausted by snow powder as we headed toward a high col at the base of the ridge.The ridge rises 600 meters above us to the summit, and rows of snow cornices protrude almost vertically from the ridge, which is breathtaking.Once the ice ax hits the bottom of the cornice, the already crumbling block of ice may fall entirely on our heads.We laughed it off as best we could, and wondered how Richard would feel when he learned that we had failed three times.But we were in good shape and acclimatised, ready to face our main objective, the West Face of the Seura Grande. For the next two days, we rewarded ourselves with food and sunshine as we prepared to climb the West Face.I started having bouts of fear.What if something goes wrong?Wanting our lives is effortless.We are small and helpless, and all of this is due to our own choice. Thinking of this, I couldn't help telling Simon my anxiety, but he smiled slightly.He understood why I was anxious, and maybe deep down I was equally nervous.Moderate fear is healthy, and it's good to feel how your body responds to fear.We can do it, we can do it, and I repeat it like a mantra whenever I feel weak, as if my stomach has been emptied.This is not a bluff, but to cheer yourself up and prepare for the last fight.For me, this is often the most difficult part of pre-departure preparation.Some people say this is rationalizing their own behavior, but frankly, it is extreme fear! Simon finally said: Well, let's dig a snow cave under the mountain wall to rest first, and then advance a section the next day.I expect to spend two days up the mountain and two days down. if only the heavens are good The weather was bad in the morning.The turbulent clouds covered most of the mountain, and the upper part of the mountain was covered with darkness, and only halfway down the mountain could be seen.There was an inexplicable danger in the air, and we all smelled it.Is this a real snowstorm, or just an early gift from the Amazon rainforest?We were packing our backpacks so we could head out early the next morning as soon as the weather improved.I packed an extra can of gas in my backpack. I wouldn't mind picking up another laurel.I have climbed three virgin peaks so far. Seeing Simon's sad face, I smiled at him. The Seura Grande is not the same. It is very steep from the beginning, and even the snow powder cannot accumulate. So, you estimate four days?Richard repeated casually. Go out for five days.Simon glanced at me, and if we don't come back in a week, all the equipment is yours! I could see that Richard's smile was not genuine.I don't envy him at all for being able to wait here, because he can't predict what may happen on the mountain.Five days is a long time, especially when you're alone with no one to talk to. After three days, you might start guessing what happened to us, but don't worry.We know what we're doing, and there's not much you can do if something goes wrong. Despite all efforts to lighten the load, our rucksacks were still heavy.We're more thoughtful about picking our gear than we used to be.The camping tent was too bulky, so we decided to leave it here and find a suitable snow cave to rest.But even minus the tent, snow piles, ice picks, crampons, ice axes, climbing equipment, stoves, gas, food and sleeping bags, etc., still overwhelmed us. Richard decided to accompany us to the glacier.The next morning the sun was hot, and we embarked on the journey at a steady pace.An hour later, we reached the beginning of the glacier.On the left bank of the glacier is a large rock carved by the glacier, and we began to climb the steep gully between this rock and the moraine.The mud and gravel ground just now turned into a mess of boulders and broken rocks.It is very laborious to go around or climb over these obstacles, some of which are many times larger than people, not to mention that we are carrying huge backpacks.After two weeks of living at high altitude, Richard has been able to keep up with our speed, but from where we stopped to rest, we can see a series of towering icicles and glacial ice mixed with mud ahead, and he only Wearing light outdoor casual shoes, these obstacles cannot be walked.In order to cross the gorge and reach the glacier, we had to climb over an ice cliff 20 to 30 meters high. Although it was not high, it was very steep. There were also huge rocks hanging on the climbing route, which seemed quite unstable. I don't think you should go any further. We can take you there, but we won't come back the same way.Said Simon. Richard looked around dejectedly. There was mud and slope-dwelling boulders everywhere, and it was barren.He'd been hoping to see something more unusual.He hadn't even seen the west face of Seura Grande yet! Note 3: Boulders that only contact the ground at a single point or a very small area, but can still maintain balance.Editor's note Before you leave, I want to take photos of you, maybe these photos will become the photos of the dead, and you can sell them for a lot of money, who would have expected it!he declared. Thank you so much for your kindness!Simon grumbled. We parted ways with him over the boulders.Standing on a high ice cliff and looking down, he looked so desolate, as if he had been abandoned.He's going to have a lonely time. Be careful!He put his palm around his mouth and yelled at us. don’t worry.cried Simon, We're not going to gamble, and we'll be back in time.See you later! We continued toward the first crevasse, and Richard's lone figure quickly disappeared.Once we reached the crevasse, we loaded our crampons and tied each other with rope.The frozen mountain walls refracted the sunlight, the temperature on the glacier was very high, and there was no wind at all.The edge of the glacier was broken and twisted, and we looked back at the route we had come from, memorizing the features of the terrain.We don't want to lose track on the way down when our tracks must have been covered with fresh snow, and it's important to know whether to go under or over the crevasse when we return. The cold night fell among the mountains, and we nested in the snow cave under the west wall, which was very comfortable.When we set off early tomorrow morning, it will be freezing cold.