This Article first appeared in
AAC(UK) Newsletter 173
published Spring 2007

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Last updated 04 December 2007

The Ascent of Miyar Nala in the Indian Himalayas 2006

by Oliver Metherell

An Extract: The sound of my heavy, rasping heart beating way too fast fills my ears. Nostrils flaring, heart pounding and lungs bursting, I contemplate the moves ahead. The harsh mountain light and the texture of the rock here remind me of the infamous Red Walls on Gogarth. I’m feeling wasted from the lack of oxygen. At over 5000m we’re already climbing near the stratosphere. Maybe this is beyond me. ‘Go on Olly, I KNOW you can do it’, is shouted across from the belay. Mitch is hanging quite still and looking relaxed in his shades. The day is clear and warm with a few wisps of cloud to the east. Below me a lammergeyer circles, wingspan of fifteen feet, it looks like a brown paraglider. Its wings flutter noiselessly in the wind and I think how I want to be like it. I find a rest point for my feet and stop hyperventilating. ‘Read the rock, focus and don’t make any sudden movements,’ I tell myself. ‘Climb when ready, deep breath’. My heart is racing and my stomach feels hollow. I think, this is it! It seems surreal.

Here I am so far from home in a foreign country about to make an ascent of an unclimbed mountain. I can see base camp far below and my tiny red tent. I look at my watch, 5100m. I have never done technical climbing at this kind of altitude before. As I lead up Mitch disappears and I find myself alone above a steep ramp. It is completely silent and we are climbing under a denim blue sky. The gear is good and I am swinging from hold to hold. I feel the 60m ropes getting heavier and heavier and Mitch’s shout of ‘10m’. I sink in a couple of nuts, equalise them with the cordilette, and clip in with my daisy chain. First pitch over and I stand in the sun watching Mitch speed up the rock. The climbing is not too hard and if anything goes wrong we could be back on the scree slope in a couple of abseils. It is no more committing than the Papillons arête.

The third pitch is the crux where the angle kicks back. Normally when you’re on an alpine route it is mega serious and you’re feeling scared. This wasn’t like that. ‘This is good’ I thought, ‘I’m really enjoying it.’ We untie and I follow Mitch, panting like a racehorse, as he motors to the summit. The highest point is unmarked and I rest while Mitch builds a cairn. I look around and see the mountains in the distance. What a feeling. I feel nothing else matters. I pour what is left in the breakfast tea pan into a Sigg bottle and mix it with drink powder. It tastes deliciously refreshing and I feel alert for the descent.

Four abseils later and we are back at the scree with a bit of tricky down climbing. ‘Don't blow it now, don’t blow it now’, I say to myself through clenched teeth. We stop to eat and then begin the long walk down to the tents. Mitch is going fast, ‘Bit slower if you can Mitch’, I shout after him, glad we have the ski poles with us. Night falls quickly and we get the headtorches out turning the beams on, there is an answering glow from the tents. A final few steps over the glacial moraine and we’re back in camp.

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Last updated: 04 December 2007

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