KRISTOFFER ERICKSON

Going Deep (Part 2 of Skiing Rakse Peak in Nepal’s Bajhang District)

This was my first trip to Nepal where I had the opportunity to start at nearly sea level, in the jungle on the southern border with India, and then cross the entire country from the south to the north. We flew from Kathmandu to Dhangadi and followed one of the only roads leading north into the mountains. The road accessing the Bajhang district capital of Chainpur had just recently opened but seasonal rains had only just begun to finish their normal pounding and much of the road was periodically closed. Two thirds of the way to Chainpur we encountered ruts stacked two feet deep that quickly defeated our Mahindra jeep’s four wheel drive. At this point the jeep returned and we were forced to finish the remaining day and half sandwiched in the front of the lorry that carried our equipment. Nine deep in the front of a tractorish truck, crawling along one of the worst roads in the world is not what I had envisioned for access to this remote spot on the globe but I was grinning the whole way, well most of the way.  We had a massive infestation of bed bugs during the night we spent in the berg of Deura and during that sleepless night I had a less positive expression on my face. As with many adventures to the Himalaya they start off comfortable and quickly become the harsher reality of third world travel. This one started with airplanes, moved to comfortable vehicles and over night descended into the comforts of our bug free lorry, a steel box 10 feet wide and five feet tall that housed a large engine compartment in the middle, the driver and two people sitting in the passenger seat, plus a bench along the back wall of the cab that held the five of us.

Our adventure started during the last days of Dashain, the most famous Hindi holiday, which only added to our complicated logistics since most locals were not interested in work even if they made as much money in a week as they would make working for four months. Eventually, porters were hired to help carry our supplies what was suppose to be a five day trek to base camp near the Tibetan border. We were now our core team of four plus Padam and Santos, our kitchen staff for the expedition, and the 30 porters we needed for transporting our equipment, food, fuel, tents, skis and everything else we would need for the expedition.

Walking north out of Chainpur we followed the Seti river most of the way into the mountains and to its headwaters located on the border with Tibet where we eventually waded across to reach the base of Rakse Peak. The second day we arrived in Talkot and a torrential downpour covered every inch of Bajhang and didn’t let up for a total of four days. The storm caused flooding in areas where the newly constructed road was no match for the raging rivers. In the high peaks snow began stacking up, floodwaters were coming down, bridges needed rebuilt and sections forged; it was just the type of adventure I had hoped to find.

Despite the sun shining again and the extra day of rest we had taken two days prior to reaching Dhuli, the last village before the mountains, when the porters arrived they were done.  With conditions at an all time low our porters decided that they would go no further than the village of Dhuli. Despite being only a few days’ walk from Chainpur none of the porters had been to this part of the region and they would only go beyond with pay of time and a half. As it turns out, most of the people in Dhuli had not been to Chainpur either. Those from Dhuli mostly trade to the north for goods that arrive from Tibetan markets. These markets were reported to be several days further north and near the original location we had hoped would provide our base camp. The village of Dhuli is still two full days of walking, several river crossings and thousands of feet of vertical relief from the real mountains.  We had been dropped in the forest miles from the peaks we had come to ski and climb and were now wondering what to do? Dhuli was base camp!

“Ka Gar ne”, what to do in Nepali

(Part 3 of Skiing Rakse Peak in Nepal’s Bajhang District)

We burned several days early in the trip as a result of our flights, trucks and porters not going as planned. We were camped low in the forest on the banks of the mighty Seti, still days from the mountains. Our original intention of being able to climb and ski a virgin peak wouldn’t be a reality unless we pressed into the mountains and we could not afford to move our whole camp in the little time remaining. Like most issues we faced on the trip thus far, our current situation was just the last conundrum that needed to be overcome. Our first attempt was to find new skiing objectives that might work given our time and location. We knew there was a 6400m peak that was, as the crow flies not far.

We set out on a recon trip carrying our gear in hopes we could reach the base of the new peak. Several hours of walking led us to the confluence of the Seti and a side tributary. The trail went cold, the brush thickened and our progress was again stopped. This side tributary was the key to accessing the neighboring peak except that the entire river was stuffed into a granite gorge and without major rigging we wouldn’t be able to ascend the raging river gorge. Options quickly faded with each new setback. Another day was burned without moving closer and I began to feel that skiing might not be in the cards for this trip.

Before returning to camp we cached our gear near a recently built bridge that we had watched the locals construct across the Seti earlier that morning. We returned to camp with diminishing odds of skiing in Bajhang and things only continued to worsen. Adding to the string of disappointing events that continued to block our progress, at camp we discovered the sacred animal of all Hindus, a cow, had died near our tents. Within a day the stench had grown too strong and something needed to be done before the dead cow café was the newest hotspot for the dogs of Dhuli tour. We drug the cow into the Seti and decided a Puja ceremony was in order to hopefully appease the gods and bring us the luck needed to safely reach the mountains.

Left with little over a week before we would need to start our return to Kathmandu we were committed to the last option for travel into the mountains, Plan X as we began to call it. We decided to follow the Seti to its headwaters on the border of Tibet. This was the original place we had hoped to make base camp but with extra days of walking just to reach the zone, days to return and only a limited amount of equipment and food we could carry, that left even fewer days to ski once we arrived in the mountains. Following the Seti through a series of makeshift bridges we ascended upstream on the historical Tibetan caravan route not knowing if the trail would provide access to something we could climb and ski or whether the trail would provide yet another roadblock. The limited number of days remaining meant there would be no time to try twice, we would have maybe three days total to climb, ski and start the long trek home.

Finding Rakse Tal, Moonshine Lake

(Part 4 of skiing Rakse Peak in Nepal’s Bajhang District)

We left one day in the schedule to repack before the porters would arrive for our return trip. This gave us seven days from the time we walked out of base camp to approach, climb, ski, and walk back to base camp. Our packs were huge. Everything we would need over the course of the next seven days was dangling, packed or strapped as one massive load, serving more as a form of torture than fun. Our climbing equipment was a limited rack of a few stoppers and slings along with two snow bars, four ice screws, extra webbing for v-threads, one 60meter 7.7 mm rope, food for six days, two MSR Reactor stoves, fuel and our two North Face single wall tents. All of this gear was divided amongst the four of us. Adding to the already mounding pack was our personal equipment consisting of skis, boots in the bindings, extra clothing, sleeping bag, first aid kit and camera equipment. Starting by crossing the recent makeshift bridge near to our cache our plan was to reach the headwaters of the Seti River near the Tibetan border.  We must have been a sight to be seen walking down the trail. Four westerners with funny looking, brightly colored sticks and extra big shoes strapped to their back; monsters of foreign items 10ft tall and 4ft wide.

We encountered two rickety bridges and crossed several sections of trail where most of the established section had washed away with the rest of the bank. Our first night we camped in a forest of trees called Buko Odar. Odar means cave or bivi and there had been rock structures and shrines erected centuries ago in this area to serve the travelers passing by.  It was a stark contradiction to any former Himalayan trip I had been on. This was the first time I was camped in a forest with a roaring river below and a campfire at my feet. In many of the popular areas of the Himalaya the trees are forbidden to be cut for firewood. Here the forest is full of mature walnut, maple, birch and conifer trees, mixed with rhododendron; all making our experience that much better.

On our second day we reached the confluence of the Seti and the Salimo River where we could see the prominent south facing couloir that shot straight down from the summit of the peak in the distance. The mountain was plastered with a fresh blanket of snow from the last storm and conditions looked inviting for a ski descent.

Rakse Peak (5428m 17,912ft). Officially the peak has no name but on the mountain’s northern side there is famous lake know by all the locals as Rakse Tal. Rakse is the local word for whisky and Tal means lake. Every time I mentioned the name I couldn’t help but think about a southern moonshine operation placed deep into the hills where it could never been found. My visions of Rakse Tal were the equivalent with its clear mountain water collecting at the base of Rakse Peak, producing simply the finest mountain Rakse this side of the Tibetan border. We continued to find our way north into these mysterious mountains often by asking with no other name than Rakse Tal.

After two days of walking, scary bridge crossings and shear cliff trails dropping to the river below we were finally in the heart of the mountains. Jagged 6000m peaks surrounded us in every direction.  We set our camp above the banks of the Seti in a bivy area the locals called Garaphu Odar.

Skiing Rakse Peak

(Part 5 of Skiing Rakse Peak in Nepal’s Bajhang District)

We needed to learn more about Rakse Peak. We knew it was across the Seti from usand the only way across was to wade. We also knew it had a large south facing couloir off the top but we couldn’t see the bottom. Our first day out we decided to climb up towards the shoulder of a peak above our camp at Garaphu Odar which would give us nice views of the valley. The recent storm left snow down to 4000m providing us with a spring like snow pack, excellent for booting and corn skiing. By mid morning we had booted to 4700m but were stopped by a series of rocky slabs. From our vantage point we enjoyed the views in all directions and learned a bit more about what we would need to do in order to climb and ski the peak rising above Rakse Tal. The best part of this day was the ski back to camp; 3500ft with powder dusting a firm, refrozen corn surface, views of majestic peaks in every direction and the sun was shining.

The following day we waded the Seti river not far from our camp and moved our tents to a camp at 4000m and better striking distance of the large couloir on the south side of Rakse Peak. The move was a bit of a gamble, since we couldn’t see the bottom two thirds of the couloir I didn’t know if it would connect, but we felt it represented the greatest chance of making a complete descent of a virgin peak given our limited time frame. That evening we hiked to a vantage point where we saw that the entire couloir did in fact go all the way from the top of Rakse Peak back to our high camp for a total distance of 1500m.

Under a moonless night, Jamie, Kip and myself walked out of camp and booted up firm snow and avalanche debris to the tightest section of couloir. Just as the partially cloud covered sky broke apart the first rays of the sun began to shine through, a minute later the clouds swirled around and it became grey. The first section of the couloir was extremely rocky. Avalanches had swept the couloir in recent weeks leaving a 100m section of the couloir bone dry and dirty. While the couloir itself was aesthetic the conditions were shaping up to be less than desirable. We continued up the couloir on firm neve snow, booting between the steep rock walls on both sides, occasionally dodging small bits of rock rolling down the gut. We were juggling a fine line of wanting warmer conditions to soften the snow but those same conditions would also unleash stones onto us. The firm icy surface made the runnel we followed to the top good for climbing but it was going to be difficult to ski if it remained icy. As luck on this trip seems to go, cloud cover kept rock fall to a minimum but left the couloir desperately firm for skiing conditions. At the top of the couloir we crested onto a ridge a few meters from the summit and could finally see Rakse Tal. We could see peaks in every direction and especially north as peaks formed along both sides of the Tibetan border.

The temps were cold and windy with clouds continuing to move closer towards the peak. Any snow falling became a constant spindrift of moving snow and ice down the couloir. We snapped a few token shots and mounted our skis to start down the icy and breakable snow. The effort in making sure the difficult conditions didn’t get the best of us kept us on our toes and at times we were forced to sideslip through an icy section that screamed from the chatter of scratching edges on the surface. The steepest section was at the top and just less than 55 degrees but often we were forced into the couloirs gut where a groove made conditions even more challenging. Once through the couloir and the short section of dirt we were skiing on the lower angled terrain that created the apron of the giant 5000ft south face. Much of the lower face was easy skiing; bobbing and weaving through old avi debris sections. Skiing into camp we all felt as though we had gotten away with something. So far obstacles had been greater than we had anticipated, but through each hurdle we eventually found a new way and after all, an adventure was what we had hoped to find.

The next morning we packed up camp, waded across the Seti again and started our journey back to base camp. Like horses heading for the barn we were back to base camp in the two days we had planned. We were all tired from the efforts of freight handling and skiing Rakse Peak, although we were now on our way home we were far from done. Our new porters had new ideas on which way they wanted to return to Chainpur. Feeling up for the adventure, we followed a woodcutter’s trail up and over a high mountain pass which lead us back to Chainpur in two and a half days, a record compared to the six it had taken to reach base camp. Once in Chainpur the locals informed us that during the storm that had slowed our progress on the approach, the road back to Dhangadi had been washed out in eleven places requiring heavy machinery to open it. Five days, maybe ten days, maybe even several weeks would pass before the road would open again. Luckily for us Jiban at Sherpa Shangri-la Treks was able to book us a charter flight out from that field of grass near the end of town. We spent our last night in the Bajhang District camped in the bombed out airport thinking back to all that we had endured to make a few tracks down a virgin peak in one of the wildest places on earth. With our charter flight we would be back in Kathmandu only four days after leaving Dhuli when it had taken us nine to reach there on the way in.

Skiing in the Himalaya is never typically about finding the best turns but rather more about the adventure of getting to top of a particular mountain and enjoying the few turns back down. For me, skiing a new line on a peak that no one has climbed represents the highest level of commitment for ski mountaineering and something I will continue to seek with future adventures. Our trip to the Wild Wild West of Nepal’s Bajhang District was more than an adventure. Now I just need to figure out when to go back. Adventures like this aren’t possible most places in the world.