August 10, 2022
K2 BC Trek – Returning to Skardu (conclusion)
(Part 2) https://dinshawavari.wordpress.com/2022/08/06/those-amazing-mountain-men-of-gilgit-baltistan-2/)
Here’s another simple summary-
- I really cannot make up my mind whether it would have been better –
- To have continued the trek with the twisted ankle; OR
- To sit on a friggin’ mule for three continuous days (and that too with a makeshift, homemade saddle)!
- …and if it was the latter, would it have been better to be ‘castrated’ professionally in a hospital, rather than sit on a mule & have it done organically 😊!!!!!!!!
- If you’ve paid the evacuation insurance, it may actually be worth getting airlifted out rather than to “’mule” it – simply because 30% of the time you’d be walking anyway ☹!
- Lastly, as a ‘newbie’/’wannabe’ (like me), if anyone EVER glorifies to you about trekking, please first check with them the effects of ALTITUDE (the latter never, ever crossed my mind until we started walking to Askole in the beginning).
On July 16 (Sat) (my 12th day)- RETURN: Concordia – Goro 2 – Urdukas
Waking up at 5am, I doubled up [on everything], filled the water bladder and the Grayle water purifier itself (thus having 3½ lts of water on hand), packed the bags and hobbled over to the mess tent for breakfast. Hameed [cook] whipped up a good omelet, after which I just waited in the mess tent while the mules were loaded.
I left Concordia on the Khutcher at 6.45am, accompanied with Shakir and Mussa Ali. I was on one mule; our tent and gear on another mule; while a third mule carried Shakir’s gear. The mule costed me Rs. 65,000. (Should have accepted Mirza Ali’s offer for an airlift rescue instead 😊).
What can I say about the saddle? Hmmm … 🤔 let me see … well, it wasn’t exactly the type you see in the Western movies where the cowboy rides comfortably for 18 hours a day, that too with a pretty maiden at the back 😨!
This was one of the most uncomfortable rides I have ever taken in my ‘half a century’ alive. Whoever designed this ‘saddle’, certainly must never have sat on it too; I think the mules are used for carrying goods- I’m sure no sane human ever sat on one of these 😩 (but then I’m far from ‘sane’ too).
Whatever construction (or design), I could not put the closer foot in stirrup and swing my other foot over to the other side … remember, we are not in Clint Eastwood’s western movie! No sireeebob – if I had done that, the saddle and me would have slipped right off the side of the mule where I placed my weight. The method was to stand on a rock – swing your far side leg over to the other side of the mule – and then get on with equal weight. Just as well for me as I could not put any weight on my right foot.
The moment I got onto the mule, I knew I was done for … and just sitting on the animal five minutes, my lower back started going to hell.
We reached Goro 2 around 1015am and got off the mule for a very welcoming break.
Now, in this section I’m going to bitch and bitch about my uncomfortable ride home – but remember, I was still sitting on a mule while my two companions walked the entire distance (eventually upto Askole) … now that’s something! That should give one an idea as to why I named this blog after them!
A little while later we set off for Urdukas.
This was the worst day to date!
From the very beginning I was squirming from this butt to that butt trying to find a position which would reduce the back pain- to no avail. I had to actually ask Shakir to stop just to get off and rest my butt and back.
I could actually hardly walk with my right foot, let along put my full weight down on the leg; but very soon (and then regularly after that) I had to dismount and walk on my own. For the first time ever, I felt like an old, retired man who needed help in walking- in my case it was Mussa who used to give me a hand.
Nearing Urdukas, another experienced trekker, Nadir Ali Shah, caught up with us saying that Mirza (or Gul) had sent word to him to locate me to join him at his camp at Urdukas for dinner. I thanked him and off he merrily went without as much as a “toodlee doo”! Every time I looked up, Nadir Ali seemed to be ‘sprinting’ away further & further.
Eventually, arriving at Urkudas around 4pm, I was completely done in- sitting on the Khutcher was back breaking, draining and most most uncomfortable. My outlook was completely negative and I was physically & mentally uncomfortable- how the hell could I spend 2 more days like this in the saddle??? My right foot was tight in my shoe- my foot had swollen and dared not remove my shoe for fear of not being able to wear it again.
Anyway, Nader Ali and his team of Austrians were resting on a rock at Urdukas when I rode in and he invited me for eats once his mess tent was up.
After my tent was up, I got in and got some sleep with my legs placed up to relieve my lower back. Removing my double clothes, I had a wipe down and wore a fresh t-shirt and my outlook brightened up a bit.
Around 5pm, Nadir Ali called me to their mess tent – it turns out that Nadir is not only an experienced trekker but he was the main cook for his party; in fact he was more like their “all man Friday”- cook and guide; and the food was delicious.
On entering the tent, one of the Austrians was none other than Andy (Andreas Mennel), who had greeted me on arrival Concordia. What a fluke. It was pleasant sitting on the chair and chatting with all three of them – the other two were David Specht and Albert Witting – especially after hours of silently sitting on the mule.
All three welcomed me warmly and shared their food with me. Hot soup and tea was so welcoming. It was really nice talking to them. They too had got upto Concordia but turned back from there and hadn’t gone the whole distance, apparently.
By 6pm or so, I had to turn in. I said my g’night and even regretted Andy, David & Albert when they asked if I should be woken for the actual dinner and made my way to the tent. I was bushed and by 7pm, turned in for the night. Both Shakir and Mussa came asking me for food and I regretted them too- I was dehydrated and just was not feeling good. We had initially planned to leave Urdukas at 5am next day but I told Shakir we’ll go at 7am…there was no used killing myself on the way back.
I am extremely grateful to Nadir Ali, Andy, Albert & David for opening their ‘home’ to me for dinner and breakfast.
This is the one criticism I have for my expedition organizers – that for my return, they had made NO provisions for lunch or dinner for us (very different from what Shakir had told me before leaving Concordia). For the next two days, it was upto us to ‘beg, borrow or steal’ a meal. To say ‘humiliating’ would be an understatement. By the way, I only realized this at Paiyu.
On my 13th day (July 17, 2022 Sun)– RETURN: Urdukas – Paiyu
I awoke at 4.45am refreshed- changed, rolled up the sleeping back and was ready earlier than expected. Shakir and musa were yet to have breakfast and I told them to take it easy. We could have actually left early, as originally planned.
That morning had 2 boiled eggs & hot tea with my new friends; filled up my water bladder (which had emptied well before arriving to Urdukas yesterday) and finally set off at 7am. Nadir Ali told me they would be camped a little further from Paiyu camp so to come and camp with them. I was looking forward to that as I set out with no lunch or snack.
So, once again, with the slope down being too steep for sitting on the mule, I had to hobble the next 30-45 minutes out from Urkudas on my own. My ankle was better but by the time I reached down, it was again feeling tight. With the sun beating down, I took off all the double clothes I had on. Wondering where I would put my two jackets, I suddenly had a brain wave – I folded my both the fleece & my down jacket and placed it over the ‘make-shift’ saddle. Mussa corrected me by removing the down and I sat ever so comfortably on the Khutcher on the fleece. I wish I had thought of that when leaving Concordia. The jacket actually made any lower back pain go away and it was a relatively comfortable ride onwards. My outlook too was more positive with the hot breakfast inside me.
We arrived Khorbutse around 9am. Musa made some black tea and we had biscuits. By this time, Israr had turned up with his party of three Dutch people. I had seen Israr on and off on the trek to Concordia and it was nice to see a familiar face again.
After a 30 minute stop at Khorbutse, we left for Paiyu. The water level this time was completely low- so different from the time when we came to Khorbutse and sitting on the mule, it really didn’t make any difference to me.
It was a slightly uncomfortable ride- I learnt that whenever going uphill, I had to shift my body weight to the front, towards the mule’s head; and when coming down slope, move my weight backwards. Interesting but uncomfortable. Every time we came to a very steep descent, I looked at it with some trepidation – only to be relaxed when the mule found a less steep route down.
We joined the Baltoro Glacier exactly where we had stepped off it on July 11th.
The last time when we got off Baltoro at this point, there was some falling rock and ice and we had to cross quickly in case of an unexpected landslide. This time was no different- we waited on the opposite side till other trekkers came over and then I dismounted again to walk across this portion. Going back up the Glacier was tougher as there had already been a landslide earlier so the route was slightly different then initially; and there were some locals trying to fix up the trail. After an exhausting climb back up the Glacier and away from the landslide area, we rested for a while. Mussa kept running off to help some other hiker up and down the same trail. Talk about stamina!
Some way off, we came across Israr and his trekking party, who had stopped and were making tea. I too gratefully got off the mule and took rest on the rocks. Israr’s companions offered some hot tea which I gulped down very gratefully.
We were resting adjacent to a small, blue pond and both mules and humans drank directly from the pond 😊! It turned out that our dishes and mugs were being washed in the same water as the mules were drinking in 😊. Best that the Dutch hikers were never the wiser!
There were many instances when I would need to get off the Khutcher due to the type of route conditions and then would get back on again. Those moments were long and slow as I had to hobble on the sides of the mountain with one of my sticks.
All along this route wherever needed I would get off the mule for a few meters where it was hard going and then get on again.
Eventually, somewhere toward the end of Baltoro glacier, Shakir again asked me to dismount, which I did and he carried on with the mules. After that Musa and I didn’t see or hear from Shakir again for over an hour. Where the hell had he gone. The main unsteady patch which he wanted me to get off for was long gone and now there were clear paths for any rider to sit on an animal. Again I slipped, this time lightly hurting my left ankle and again putting pressure on the right ankle. That really made me a cranky ol’ coot!
Eventually, we got off the glacier and for once, the side of mountain was level and walkable – easy for any mule with a rider – yet no sight or sound of Shakir. I became as inventive with swear words as I ever have! Even Musa could not understand where Shakir had gone. Upto now, Shakir proved to be quite resourceful and a good companion- this changed my opinion of him completely. Even Gul had told me at Concordia that Shakir was a trusted person who was with him for many years- well, GUL, you have been proved WRONG!
After 1½ hours (or more?) of hobbling, eventually, we found Shakir nicely sleeping under the shade of a brush. The mules were grazing somewhere behind some rocks.
Now, try to picture this next scene- it so vividly reminded my about one of Clint Eastwood’s Westerns – a little brumble bush rolling here and there; hot desert; mules grazing on the dusty slopes, trying to forage for food … and our HERO sleeping under a slight shade of a small bush! What a nerve! 🤬🤬😡😡
It even took Mussa a while to get the #!$%*!?^ awake. Irritatingly, I told him that thanks to him, I had slipped again on the glacier, this time hurting both ankles, yet with Musa’s help carried on. If he wanted to sleep he could easily have told me and I would have concurred, using that time to rest up as well. All he did is he went on and left us behind. I was really upset. He didn’t say a word- neither any apology or justification.
There really was not much more I could say or do- I certainly could not let him leave me stranded there!
A short while after we restarted, we were running parallel to a small stream; and once again I was reminded about the western movies … this time with Shakir drinking straight from stream but putting his face down in it- like the rough and tough cowboys used to do.
You know, we make fun “…as dumb as a donkey”. Let me say, my mule was nothing close to being dumb. They are extremely intelligent animals. Firstly, they seek out the shortest path between two points. When they need something to be done to their bridle or are thirsty, they stop. It gives us an indication something’s up. Sometimes, they would just stop for other two mules to catch up. Most importantly, you just needed to point the khutcher to the destination and it remembered the route from previous trips of the season and didn’t need to be guided. Amazing!
Anyway, getting on the mule eventually, we reached Paiyu around 3.30pm. The camp was absolutely full with trekkers and tents. Musa made some tea in the camp’s confectionary and I hobbled up the stairs to him.
Now, Musa’s brother was Paiyu Camp in-charge. I was cheesed off at Shakir, so when I was alone with Musa, I told him why not ditch Shakir and I’d pay him for the animals upto this point; and instead get Musa’s brother to organise two mules for us to go on to Askole. That really took Musa aback and said it won’t be possible now that Shakir has arranged the mules and all. I knew this wasn’t going to happen but I wanted the word to informally get back to Shakir…which it did.
When Shakir turned up, I once again berated him for his actions on the glacier – again with nothing for him to say, I hobbled off looking for Nadir Ali’s set up (or Israr’s), which I could not find, so just went to my tent for a wipe down and rest.
Some other tour group leader came asking me to move from there and I just referred him to Shakir. Never heard from the guy again.
Then there was a Japanese man who was complaining away, nonstop to his organizer, as he must have been promised to be placed next to running water and clean toilets – well the running water was there but the “clean toilets” were far from clean and also not so nearby as he must have expected. I can understand his irritation but after a while I too felt pity for the organizer.
Musa asked what time I wanted dinner, to which I asked him 6pm and something simple- anything they were planning to have; some vegetables and rice, etc. I wasn’t really pushed as long as I had some hot food in me. I wanted to eat early and turn in, so that we could actually leave earlier the next morning.
I waited and waited but no food. Eventually Musa turned up at 8pm with delicious food. I found it strange to eat this and complimented him; and asked who had cooked it at the confectionary.
It turned out that he had not made the food at the camp confectionary; they had scoured around and found a tour group, who’s cook was from the same village as Gul and requested him for dinner for me- without informing the occupants. Now, that was really embarrassing. Anyway, the cook also came, asked about me and I thanked him and he left saying he’ll bring breakfast in the morning. By then it was useless to ignore it and I let it go.
Next morning, without my asking, the cook of the other group himself brought me omelet and hot tea.
Now, I’m eating breakfast, looking out of my tent and I can see the cook and the tour guide talking and looking at me. I didn’t know what to do – I didn’t know who knew in that group that I was mooching off them and I was really feeling embarrassed. I didn’t let my eye catch them (they weren’t so far away) and I pretended not to notice them. Eventually, before leaving, I asked Musa and he told me the Guide and cook both knew, so I then went up to the side and waved them my thanks. But I was feeling very guilty and embarrassed about the situation. I had even offered the cook some money which he refused saying he was here to help ‘stranded travelers’. I am very very grateful to the cook, guide and the unnamed organizer for also providing me dinner and breakfast, at Paiyu.
Basically a very very hospitable people, the Gigit-Baltistan lot, and they come to each other’s help and assistance when needed.
On July 18, 2022 (Mon)– RETURN: Paiyu – Askole
After a great omelette breakfast, and waving my thanks to the cook and the guide for their hospitality, we left Paiyu at 6.30. The guide must have been thinking what a snob and ‘lord sahib’ I must have been- sitting in my tent and eating their food and not acknowledging it. My sincere thanks to this group’s guide, organizer and cook.
The one positive about riding back was that I managed to capture a lot of the mountains and scenery, which we had missed going to Concordia. When trekking on the glacier and mountains, I had to keep concentrating for each step to step and naturally largely missing the scenery then. There were one or two spots which I recognized from our way to Concordia but by and large the rest was like new to me.
I personally think Shakir took out his revenge on me 😊 (must have received my feedback from Mussa, which was my intention) … …every so often, on the flat grounds, he would make my mule gallop. Now let me tell all of you, that is one of the most DISPLEASUREABLE and UNCOMFORTABLE experiences for a MALE … I will not go into the details, suffice to say, if you are not sitting in a proper saddle, you are going to land up with ‘scrambled eggs’ 😊😊😊.
After several further dismounts (ankle was getting better however) we eventually arrived at Ali Depot (just before our Jhola camp) at 1040.
Lo & behold, Israr and his Dutch team were already there and had arrange a jeep. After asking Israr, at 11am we all clamoured in, with Israr telling the driver I was “part of his group”, for our journey to Askole, with me sharing 1/3rd part of the cost of travel. If Israr had told the driver differently I would have been labbed with 15k just on my own. So, am grateful to Israr.
Shakir and I got onto the jeep while Musa would bring the mules to Askole by their route.
It was a long ride but what a pleasure after riding the bloody khutcher for three days.
We couldn’t make it directly to Askole however. We eventually arrived at a broken bridge around 1145am. Again, the flooding had caused the strong structure to collapse.
The only option of crossing over the turbulent river was by a simply homemade pulley system. Once Israr had paid the people for all of us (I repaid him!) one by one the equipment, items and we crossed over. On my way over, two of the Dutch trekkers were pulling me over and on crossing I joked that I would tip them in Islamabad over beers – that drew a very happy & grateful thanks from them (…and no, I never met them after that!). (See Twitter for the videos)
Once on the opposite side, we had to wait for some other transport as it was too hot and long to wak to Askole (and I just would not have been able to take the distance on my ankle). In the far distance, we actually saw Musa with the mules walking along- as the green & orange colours of the various bags were striking in the sun.
Waiting for a couple of hours on the opposite side, I started talking to an American who was closely inspecting the makeshift pulley system. Hobbling over to him, I joked that this engineering ‘feat’ would certainly NOT pass any US or European audit standards of construction. Turned out he was an engineer too and he joked he was going to show this simple set up to his engineers in USA. He had trouble acclimatizing and returned back from Paiyu.
On enquiring, the cost to cross this river was Rs. 100 for locals and a couple of hundred more for foreigners. I was speaking to one of the [makeshift] bridge’s locals and told them while they should continue to charge Rs. 100 to Pakistanis, there would be nothing wrong in charging a flat Euro 5 per foreigner. The 5 Euros would not ‘break the bank’ for them and it was a very small and reasonable amount in Euro; while a nice chunk when converted in Rupees. He told me, forget foreigners, even us Pakistanis were cursing them and bitching about coughing up a hundred rupees only for the crossing. I tell you, sometimes, we Pakis can be really snooty and more ‘British than the British’! 🤬
Finally another jeep arrived there ar 2.40pm and we all managed to pile in for Askole. The jeep would make two more trips to bring the rest of the teams to Askole.
In Concordia, I had given Dinaz the telephone number of Gul’s office manager in Skardu, Nasir, requesting him to top up my Skardu sim card so that I could also make calls.
On the drive over to Askole, I managed to get in touch with Nasir, who told me he had arranged car crossing to Pakoru and onwards to Skardu. In fact the driver was already waiting at Pakuro.
As the mules were coming separately with my gear, we had to wait at Askole Musa to turn up, which Musa Ali did around 4pm. There was still light and after checking with Shakir we organized a jeep to take us to Pakoru. The driver said 12k and I accepted without a flinch- ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ (maybe not the right metaphor!) but I told him I’d pay him at Pakoru.
After saying my thanks and goodbyes to Israr, the Dutch and the American, Shakir and I made our way to Pakoru – Shakir came along to help with the bags for the Pakoru bridge crossing.
This section has one of the most dilapidated roads one can ever imagine, so the going was slow!
At 5.45pm we reached Pakoru, only to find out I was out of money. I had a balance 10k left on me. I gave 6k to the driver and promised him vide a ‘promissory note’ to pay the balance 6k upon reaching Skardu. After a lot of haggling, he agreed and we again crossed the makeshift bridge, climbed up the steep hill (which we had climbed down on the last time here) and then down the steep slope to the Pakoru restaurant.
Time was getting short so I told the driver from Skardu, upon meeting him (Mahdi), to quickly make a move for Skardu. However, he and Shakir wanted tea so we grabbed a quick ‘cuppa’. There Mahdi paid off the balance 6k to Shakir for the driver and other incidentals (as I didn’t have money) and made me write up another promissory note for the money he had paid. Amazing… the trust that goes on in this “IOU” system. I thought the concept of “trust” was all but finished as Pakistan made its way into the 21st Century.
At Pakoru, I made up another “IOU” for Mahdi to be reimbursed his money from the company. Subsequently, in Skardu, I paid Naser this total amount to be given to Mahdi, so that he is not ‘out of pocket’ in case he is not reimbursed.
Eventually, with another jeep (which Mahdi paid for also), we took off for the 2nd blockage, where Nasir had parked his car.
At the second blockage we transferred to Mahdi’s FJ jeep which had been parked on the other side and finally made off for Skardu but not before evading another road blockage near Hussainabad,
We reached the same army check post in Dasu for reporting- I reminded the officer (I recognized him from our previous trip to Askole on July 8th) who I was and after finding my name and entry in his register off we went.
We finally arrived at 1130pm back to the hotel in Skardu, tired and hungry.
What an ordeal…what a RETURN adventure! Truly!
There are several observations which I thought I would write to the Gilgit Baltistan government- they have a gold mine here but are squandering it with completely lack of infrastructure, facilities and … hygiene and cleanliness on the trek.
Oh yes, I said I’d tell you about my Steppie friend Imran. I had a great interaction with the whole group of trekkers and somewhere along the trek, Imran and I made each other “step brothers” (…’from another mother” 😊) and then it was “steppies” all along from there.
I had a great bunch of trekkie and made friends with them.
As I said, my Steppie was Imran; his wife Farwa, was the most positive in the group. Anything negative and she would find a positive twist to it.
Both Imran & Farwa, had done various treks (including South America and Kilimanjaro).
Bilal, our Oncologist, was the most experienced from five of us.
Of course, who can forget Willam and Juliane. With Sohail as their guide, they would zip past us and be at the destination anywhere from one to two hours ahead of the second group (I made up the 3rd, and last, “group”). Juliane always had a smile on her face.
Another very positive person I got to know was Alizah. Young (unlike me), first time trekker (like me), always a go-getter and most of the time she stayed up with our senior Trekker Bilal. Very positive and looked forward to future treks. I don’t know how she did it- infact I don’t know how any of them made it look so easy. Here I was gasping for breath, taking stops, etc and the rest of them merrily skipping along 😊! The banter between this group was wonderful- especially between Imran (“Mr Mimosa”) & Bilal. What a laugh.
(There were always three guides- one for the front; one for the mid people; and the last for people like me at the back).
Back to Earth, questions I was asked (and what I asked myself too)–
Would I do this again? NO (emphatically!).
Did I enjoy doing it? YES immensely! It showed how I can push my body and mind; and other than one or two spots, I was in a positive frame of mind throughout.
Why not do a simpler trek before setting out for K2? Had I known then (before signing up) what I now know (after the trip), I don’t think I would have ever gone on it 😊. Any other type of trek would have taught me exactly what it is like to “trek”, and that too at high altitudes; the breathlessness; the tiredness. There was no way I was going to trek if I knew all this then!
…and just as well I didn’t know- it turned out to be one of the most memorable adventures I’ve ever had. It was MEANT to be taken and experienced by me!
I was alone on most parts of the trek to Concordia- only joining up with the group at campsites; and on my return on the mule. But never did I feel lonely or bored. It was exciting; a brand new experience; enjoying the glory of these looming mountains, under which we are minuscule in size; and what a blue sky in the day; and such a perfect night, starry sky (when it was not cloudy).
Should you do this trek in your lifetime … Definitely YES. The beauty of Pakistan is unmatched and needs to be experienced firsthand, and not through blogs 😊!
In ending, two people who inspired this whole adventure need to be thanked – Shehrbano Taseer and Wendy Gilmore – both who had done it and made it sound like ‘child’s play’ … yeah RIGHT! 😊.