On June 23rd, Bruce, David and I left for Camp 1 with supplies for a few days work. Bruce and I hoped to climb into the cwm at 7000m and stash a tent, stove, and other gear. We spent the first night at Camp 1, leaving the next morning for the cash at 6400m on the lower south face of GIII near the bergshrund- the same place Billy and Guy reached a few days earlier. Bruce and I broke a new trail all the way up the glacier to the foot of the GIV-GIII icefall, and then up through dangerous avalanche terrain to the depot. This part of the approach continues to be a nightmare slog as daily wind and snow erases our tracks after every trip.

By the time Bruce and I reached the depot, new snow and high winds above were sending down spindrift avalanches everywhere, and the right-hand corner of the icefall where we planned to exit the lower GIII face into the cwm was not visible through the mists. After making a stash of gear we retreated back down the icefall and back across the glacier to Camp 1 - breaking trail again as blowing snow had already covered our morning tracks.

On the 25th we left David at Camp 1 and again started up the glacier under heavy loads. Later that morning- in blowing winds and snow- we located a 30 foot high chunk of ice and set up our tent in a spot balanced between big crevasses and huge chunks of debris from falling serac avalanches above, just below 6400m. It would be a safe spot to camp. (Kinda!) The next morning we climbed directly across the icefall under the main avalanche chutes toward the GIII face. It only takes about 15 minutes to cross this section, but the huge towers of broken ice seracs teetering for hundreds of meters above are more than a little intimidating; having faith in divine timing helps.

At the depot, spindrift rained down on us again, but we started up the face anyway. After ten minutes of climbing I heard a soft rumbling sound far above me and peered up - only to discover a rather large white cloud coming my way and spilling over a serac band about 300 meters above. I turned down to Bruce and half-yelled, "um...Bruce...avalanche". In my mind, I thought of the cartoon figure Wiley-Coyote, when he holds up his flimsy umbrella, looks at the camera and exclaims rather understatedly, "Mother.".

Bruce saw the avalanche fall-line coming to our left, so he said urgently, "Come down and right." Of course, from my vantage point the cloud was heading to our right. Just below us was a large serac band, so I began down and right anyway - in sequence with Bruce, of course - since we were still roped up in order to climb safely over the bergshrund. Meanwhile, the avalanche must have split somewhere just above us. I saw streams of powder spilling over seracs to our right and left. I figure this particular avalanche may not have been large enough to wipe us out completely - but it definitely would have put me in a bad, ice-cream-headache-like mood. We looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, and immediately retreated down to the Camp 2 tent.

However, not all was lost in the stormy conditions. Bruce and I amused ourselves for the rest of the afternoon by using our sheltering ice-chunk for a little high-altitude ice climbing "funness."

Later that afternoon, Billy and Guy joined us after their (trailess) slog up from Camp 1. We all spent the night of the 26th camped under the 6400m ice-chunk camp, then retreated back to Camp 1 in the morning due to poor weather forecasts.

David had already caught a ride down with some GII expedition members, so Bruce and I continued to base camp as well. Billy and Guy stayed at Camp 1 to further acclimatize, ascending yesterday up to 6800m on the GII-GIII standard route. They both arrived back in base camp today- a little tired but happy with their acclimatization efforts. We are all now ready for a summit push pending a break in the weather. Forecasts for the next few days look grim, but when we finally get a break we'll all go for it.

The last few days as we rested in base camp we watched long lines of porters filing up the lower moraine, bringing with them loads of gear for the G2 expeditions. There is a rumor about the camp that a total of 13 expeditions will try G2 (and/or GI) this summer, and the base camp spots around us are already dotted with the bright colors of nylon tents. At least 70 people now occupy various spots at base camp - with perhaps 100 more to come, and from the proximity of the tents it would appear that most people are already missing the bustling congestion of the towns and cities they recently left.

Of course, camping is not the only activity on the moraine; as the summer sun warms the rocks and melts the snow, the air is also filling with the faint waftings familiar to 8000 meter base camps: human waste. Our semi-private base camp now shares extremely close proximity to other parties - close enough that my tent is now within earshot of the next camp's "facilities." Due to this fact, I consider myself now shockingly over-informed as to the current state of each of our neighbors' particular gastro-intestinal affairs - some bordering on critical. My once peaceful morning slumbers are now broken by the world's absolute worst sounding alarm clocks. You try waking up to that and not have a crappy day. And as for the neighbors, I may not know each of them by name yet, but I'm sure I could pick them out in a line-up using other distinctive attributes. (Someone pass the Pepto Bismol)

Speaking of which, I might as well use this opportunity to comment on our own particular facilities, especially since this dispatch has already deteriorated to such a level. Our cooks have done a wonderful job erecting our own drop-spot, and despite the obviously disturbing connection between cooks and building toilet facilities, the boys have shown great creativeness with particular attention to design, local, and prevailing wind. Of course, a quick stretch (or calisthenics) is recommended before using our facilities due to slightly non-anatomical positioning - unless of course you're a yoga guru or double jointed. Otherwise all things on that front are just dandy and require no further commentary...er...for now - unless a bad weather spell comes in and I run out of things to write about. Until then...

As for the climbing, a few days ago Bruce and I ferried loads again up to our 6000 meter camp, but spent our nights at 5500 m for David to acclimatize after his recent illness. Meanwhile, Billy and Guy went up to the icefall between G3 and G4 for 2 days to try their hand finding safe passage through - and turned around after making a stash at 6500 meters. They both arrived back in base camp this morning, greeted by stacks of pancakes and fake maple syrup.

Despite information that previous expeditions have passed through the tangle of ice on the far left, we have decided to tackle the right side, which appears more feasible under the current conditions. As we discovered last summer in Shimshal, years of warm temperatures have taken their toll on the condition of the glaciers in Pakistan, and this once benign slope is now quite a jumbled maze of huge ice towers and crevasses, crowned by a 100 meter vertical ice cliff extending the entire breadth of the glacier at the upper lip of the cwm. I guess here we can pause to thank Al Gore for pointing out climate change (formally global warming) - or was he the guy who invented the internet? I guess either way he should get some credit for this part of this dispatch, since both apply.

Early tomorrow morning Bruce, David and I will depart for the 6000m camp again, leaving David to acclimatize in the camp while Bruce and I carry the torch back into the upper icefall. The weather forecasts seem to indicate a good spell, so we plan to establish a tent in the cwm near 7000 meters - a long way from the congestion and waftings of base camp.

A few more days of overcast skies and sometimes low visibility have passed, but we've managed

to move farther up the glacier toward the col between Gasherbrum 3 and 4. By the time this dispatch is posted, Bruce, Guy, Billy and I will have left for a 5 day stint back up the glacier, where we hope to reach the G3-4 cwm. Unfortunately David's sinus issues have not abated, and he remains in base camp until he feels better. And for those Scrabble enthusiasts out there- yes, "cwm" is a word.

The glacier is blanketed by fresh snows which have accumulated almost daily since we arrived a week ago. The new snow makes travel a little rough, but even more disturbingly hides the crevasses striping the glacier underfoot. Every so often the trail we have made passes a hole in the snow, revealing glimpses of the unseen blackness looming below.

As I pass each hole, I peer down into the abyss, the bottomless view sending shivers up and down my spine. At these moments I try to humor myself  by recalling old Kung-Fu movies, when the grey-bearded master tells the student to "...think like feather, young grasshopper." We negotiate slowly and carefully on rope, tiptoeing  across the minefield, but despite our prudence each one of us eventually punches through. Two days ago it was my turn, when I managed to find a slot despite being second in line, wearing snowshoes, and walking directly in Bruce's tracks. As my flailing legs hung down inside the unseen chasm, I had a flashback to days swimming off the Marin County California coastline, treading water in the dark, cold surf, looking out past the waves at the Farralon Islands - a major breeding ground for great white sharks.

Both then and now I ask the same question: "Why would anyone in their right mind be doing this?" But I suppose the answer lay within that question. This glacier is only the first of many challenges to confront, of puzzles to be solved, of knots to be untied. (The latter somewhat diminished if Bruce coils the rope.

The amount of trash-talking and sarcasm in base camp seems to increase in proportion to our comfort level - which is actually a good thing. We all seem to appreciate being the sole base camp on the moraine right now - although that will change soon with all the commercial G2 expeditions soon to arrive.

Until then we revel alone in the solitude and grandeur of this vast corner the Karakoram. But just know that frequently our minds and hearts drift back across the great expanse, and back home to you......with a little help from satellite

DISPATCH BY DON BOWIE

The trip from Skardu to base camp went relatively smoothly - except for an impassable section of road being pounded by a huge mud flow and hurtling boulders on the jeep ride to Askole. We retreated and spent a night in the village of Apo Ali Gon, waking early the next day to pass through the dangerous section. When we reached the mudflow, we found the road semi-rebuilt, but the battered and narrow stretch was still scary enough that we all bailed from the jeeps and ran to the other side - just in case.

Good weather on the trek to base camp permitted us the usual astonishing views of the Trango Towers, Masherbrum, Mustagh Tower, and finally one of our objectives: Gasherbrum IV. Although it was only three months since I was last here, the Baltoro seemed an entirely different place when free from the bitter grip of winter.

 

The sun shone down on us most of the way to Concordia, and the turn towards the Gasherbrums was exciting new terrain for me; I've never traveled south of Concordia before.

We arrived in G2 base camp the morning of June 4th, set up our tents, and by the afternoon began scouting a way from the moraine up the ice fall. The following day Guy, Bruce, and I decided to ignore the new snow and overcast skies and began punching a way up the glacier. After backtracking a few times due to big crevasses, we found a good depot spot under a big serac band, dumped our gear, and returned to camp. The following day Billy, Guy, and Bruce retraced the track up to the high point with some more gear, despite another day of low visibility and at times heavy snow.

I have now been to the Karakoram on three prior expeditions, and in that time I have become aware of the many objective dangers this wild region has to offer - including the seldom experienced frigid winter winds. But as of yesterday, Billy was kind enough to add to this list of dangers by discovering a new element of Karakoram pitfalls: the hidden glacial pool. Negotiating a narrow slot between seracs, Billy suddenly punched through the snow and into a small but deep pool of glacial melt. Before going completely under, he managed to self-extricate (amid certain unmentionable utterings) at the end of the rope anchored by Bruce and Guy. After his unexpected dunk, Billy removed his boots, poured the water out of each, and then saddled-up for the (somewhat squishy) walk down the glacier. (He was soaked to the chest.) By the time the three of them reached base camp, the "Billysicle" was near hypothermic - but after a quick change of clothes, a few cups of tea, and an hour or so tucked deep in his sleeping bag, Billy was his normal self again...er...at least as normal as someone who attempts K2 (twice) after already summiting once...with a gorilla. (Google "K2" and "Murph")

The next few days we expect over a half meter of snow in base camp. At sometime, perhaps between the snow-squalls and fog, we hope to push further up the glacier toward Gasherbrum III. We know it's up there, somewhere.