SAMAYA x PAULO GROBEL

 

 

Paulo Grobel and his climbing partners returned to the Himalayas in the autumn of 2023, with Tukuche Peak as their primary goal. Faced with increasingly deteriorating weather conditions, the group had to make a choice: attempt the summit at all costs or retreat?

 

“At the Dhampus Pass in Nepal, the panorama finally reveals itself at 5,244 meters. To the right, Tukuche Peak and the slender ridges of Sita Chuchura. To the North, the vast mineral plain of the Hidden Valley flows toward gorges one can sense are very narrow. In the center, a collection of summits stretches into a long, snow-covered ridge. There is no name on the map, and yet, far away, a snowy pyramid catches the eye. It is a perfect triangle that immediately recalls the triangular blade of a Phurba, the ritual dagger used in the esoteric practices of Ningmapa Buddhism. We shall therefore call it Phurba Kang!

 

The goal of our journey is Tukuche Peak, a very aesthetic summit of almost 7,000 meters at the foot of Dhaulagiri. Its ascent, though classic, does not attract crowds. It is just a few meters short of seducing mountaineers, who focus instead on Himlung Himal in the neighboring massif.

 

Base camp, isolated in the Hidden Valley, already requires a certain level of commitment. From Marpha, one must cross the Dhampus Pass at over 5,000 meters and stay there long enough to acclimatize. Upon our arrival, it began to snow for two days, closing the pass definitively. The Hidden Valley has changed seasons; we are now in winter with more than 50 centimeters of snow. In the distance, we spot a small group of trekkers on the Dhaulagiri circuit being evacuated by helicopter.

 

Now we are alone on the mountain.

 

Our objective is to set up a final high-altitude camp very high up, at a pass between the two summits of Tukuche, in order to complete the ascent to the true summit without fixed ropes and in small teams of two. Our ultra-light Samaya tents are designed exactly for sleeping at such altitudes.

 

As is often the case in the Himalayas, the weather plays tricks on us. At Camp 1, at 5,500 meters, the wind has moved into our daily lives. It occupies all the space. The noise is deafening, and our little Samaya is shaken in every direction. It is both terribly impressive and nonetheless worrying. The night will be rough. Our Samaya2.5 held up well, but our determination is in tatters. Above all, the temperatures forecast for the coming days are far too negative to consider continuing our ascent. It is impossible to progress upward without exposing ourselves to severe frostbite.

 

“The wind is rising... We must try to live,” whispers Paul Valéry to us.

 

A decision must be made: turn into warriors—where perhaps only a tiny fraction of the group will reach the summit—or radically change our project for an alternative at a lower altitude and on a more welcoming slope.

 

Gathered in the Samaya Basecamp, buffeted by the wind, we must reconstruct a new adventure. Before us, a small chain of summits at over 6,000 meters beckons. The challenge is different but just as engaging, and the Nepali team will accompany us as best they can. Traversing summits is not a common practice in the Himalayas, even less so on unknown peaks. We are now into exploratory mountaineering, a stone's throw from prestigious summits.

 

 

We establish a first camp to approach the mountain, then a second camp directly on the ridge of Sanu Phurba at 6,339 meters, after having crossed three summits. In the early morning, how can one not be a little worried about how the ascent will unfold? The snow slopes are steep, very exposed, and we are so far from everything.

 

In my head, questions are jostling... Is the group's ease on snow sufficient? Will we be able to create a comfortable and safe track?

 

This traverse of the South ridge of Phurba Kang proved to be a pure wonder of mountaineering, which is worth the trip in its own right.

 

We returned to Camp 2 with caution, for a good afternoon of rest.

 

Now for the second part of the project, where we will be four mountaineers forming two rope teams. We are carrying our Samaya4.0 and minimal equipment.

  

Only a quarter of an hour after starting, I fall into a crevasse in a flat area, a simple one-meter-wide crack hidden under the snow. I emerged with a severe chest contusion and difficulty breathing. The snow conditions and the 30° slope make the progress more complex and committing than expected! Because of the wind, the slope providing access to the glacial cirque beneath Phurba Kang presents localized snow accumulations that we must bypass. Once on the glacier, the crevasses are clearly visible.

 

The tension is palpable.

 

A final bergschrund is passed more simply, and we are finally at the first summit, the Chenrezig, at 6,292 m. The rest of our progress is simplified, with “just” large snow domes to cross.

 

We do not have time to linger at the peak; the traverse is still long, and the wind is very much present again. At 4 p.m., we find ourselves on a large pass between Manjushri and Cima Giannetti. The area is flat and our fatigue is very real: we set up our Camp 3 there before embarking on the traverse of Cima Gianetti.

 

This final summit will not be a mere formality. We must remain attentive to avoid crevasses on the summit glacier.

 

Once back down from this summit, we find ourselves euphoric about these respective adventures. We still have the Dhampus Pass to cross. The last door to the Hidden Valley will soon close; clouds are already jostling at the pass.

 

With my wife Isa, in our Samaya4.0 palace, we must decide on the rest of our adventure for the last week we have left.

  

“There is no mountaineering without a story,” François Damilano reminds us; I would add that there is no journey without a map, and that it is necessary to name the summits to be able to talk about them.

 

Our desire to complete the Dhaulagiri circuit is taking shape, in order to document it and correct the Himalayan Map House map, the only entity for map publishing registered in Nepal.

 

Since the dawn of time, Homo Sapiens has scribbled representations of a world to be discovered. Even today, this exploratory adventure is possible. There are the achievements that are incredible for their aesthetics and high-level commitment, but also all the small summits hidden in the interstices of the Himalayan massifs. Traversing peaks, inventing roamings, immersing oneself as long as possible at altitude, getting lost in unknown valleys... The game of exploratory mountaineering is incredibly vast. I hope that, soon, a new map will be available to inspire other journeys at altitude.”