Chinese Climbing Odyssey

Chengdu to Reddomain

It was about this time two years ago that I was wringing my hands with anticipation for my big climbing trip to China. So for whatever reason, I'm submitting this super late trip report. Hopefully someone travelling or climbing in/near this area can make use of the following account.

In the Fall of 2005 a group of us from WA State, USA, travelled to China as two separate climbing parties with the goal of summiting a peak called Reddomaine (6110M) by routes on both the North and South aspects of this striking mountain which to date has only been summited twice. The peak is located within the Gonga Shan mountain range of Western Sichuan Province in China.

We used a ground operator contact in Chengdu, Sichuan, who was able to help us arrange horse support for load carrying, a terrific translator/interpreter, a brilliant cook, and a maniac bus driver to get us there. His outfit is called Sichuan Adventure Travel. They came highly recommended and I would further recommend their services to anyone planning a remote excursion to that corner of Asia.

Rendezvousing in Chengdu the second week of October, we took nearly one week to finalize our logistics for the climb, shop for food and supplies, and tour the fascinating city of Chengdu by bicycle and foot. We stayed at the Traffic Hotel in Chengdu’s downtown area which made a comfortable place to stage our preparations.

When it was time to leave Chengdu we boarded our chartered bus and made our way out of the busy city of 18 million inhabitants, bound for less populated Western Sichuan. An all-day bus ride landed us in the town of Kangding which would be the last town we visited before heading into the hills. Arrangements for us to stay at the Kangding Hotel had been made ahead of time by the S.A.T. office, which seemed quite luxurious for a crew of dirt bag climbers.

Kangding is described in the Lonely Planet guidebook as a place where Tibetans from the west and Chinese from the east merge in a busy little city. From Kangding however, the further west one travels, the fewer and fewer Han Chinese he/she encounters. Seeing the Tibetan people for the first time was truly a remarkable experience. To say that they are a fascinating culture simple does not do justice. Anyone with the means should try to have this experience in their lifetime.

We woke early the following morning and had a tasty (albeit sort of strange) breakfast in a dining hall full of monks who would spend the remainder of their day in the neighboring monastery. Before heading back to the hotel our interpreter suggested a trip to the monastery where we could wish for luck and safety on our journey. We couldn’t think of a better bon voyage than that, so we followed her down the hill and through the cobbled streets to the entrance of the monastery. With all of the prayer activity in the monastery’s courtyard at 7am, it seemed as though the people there had been up praying hours before any of us rolled out of bed.

Being inside a monastery with praying and chanting monks is like being suddenly teleported into another existence all together. The 30 minute experience humbled each of us and left us with a feeling of reverence that we didn’t expect to be so real.

Back at the hotel we loaded our charter bus and set off towards the foothills to meet our horse packers. The road twisted back and forth up the side of a steep valley, occasionally offering us views of high snowy peaks poking out from behind their neighboring foothills. We passed Tibetan farmhouses and countless front yards that were covered with corn kernels drying in the sun. The industrious country folks gaped at our huge luggage laden vehicle and probably wondered what the hell a bunch of white folks from the west wanted with their small corner of the world.

Our Tibetan horsemen arrived and greeted us cheerfully. Gregarious and over six foot tall, the lead horseman stood in stark contrast to our squad of humble Chinese helpers, none taller than 5’6.” We loaded the horses, bid farewell to our driver, gestured toward the mountains and followed in behind the horsemen who led us up the dirt road toward the Gonga Shan.

We camped twice on our way up valley, taking our time to adjust to the 13,000 ft. of elevation. Our base camp cook prepared meals that were out of this world. We joked that it just didn’t seem fair to call it Alpine Climbing when we were eating so well.

On our third day our grouped parted paths and Mark and Andy's group headed over a nearby pass (17,000 ft.) while Joey and I made our way towards a lake at the toe of a glacier on Reddomain’s North side.

On with the climbing...

Our horse packer dropped us off with our excessive baggage at a small lake near the foot of Reddomaine's northern glacier. This served as our camp for the next several days as we ferried a load of equipment, fuel, and food up to a high cache on the glacier where we intended to make our higher camp. In the days following our cache day the skies opened and poured an excessive amount of snow all over the area. The temperature dropped dramatically and with variable visibility we were not comfortable moving our camp up until the snowpack had several days to settle and the weather cleared enough to assess the avalanche terrain around us as we travelled. Instead, we paid a visit to our friends (and our cook) in the opposite valley. This gave us a chance to leave the confines of the tent, get some excercise, and acclimatize at the 17,000 ft. pass that was on the way.

When we reached the pass we were able to establish radio communications with them and found their base camp with little trouble. Mr. Zhong, our cook, prepared a feast and we enjoyed card games and whisky before putting up our tent and sleeping through a ridiculously cold night in alpine China.

The next day dawned clear and Andy and Mark's team made for their high camp while Joey and I scurried back through the pass toward our objective wondering if we had just wasted a crucial day by visiting their camp. The next morning we packed up and moved to the location of our cache, which we were pleased to see had not been further burried by avalanche debris.

We settled into our new position and spent each following morning waking at 1AM to check the weather and dash for the climb if possible. For three consecutive nights we were discouraged to wake to precipitation, wind, and poor visibility. Finally, on the fourth night it appeared to be clear enough to attempt our climb.

The fun begins...

Joey and I depart our camp just after 2am and head towards the bergshrund giving access to the north face of Reddomain. Travel was slow due to a taxing breakable crust, but fortunately we didn't have far to go. Soon we were cramponing up through a lower avy debris cone and the conditions climbing through the schrund were nice and firm as well. The next 1000' or so we climbed through mixed, primarily nevé covered terrain, getting occasional ice screws for protection and for anchors. We climbed the lower portion of the face by staying primarily in one major flutting similar to those seen in the ranges of South America. We reached a point where the flutting continued in an undesirable leftward direction, so we broke out upward and slightly rightward toward what looked like lower angle, more protectable terrain.

Unfortunately, we were met with fluffy isothermic snow conditions. Snow gave way easily underfoot to bare rock underneath. Protection was nil. Our progress slowed to a crawl on the upper face as we took three steps upward and two back to gain each foot of elevation at over 18,000 ft. Needless to say, we were quite exposed and feeling vulnerable without protection or adequate belays on the 55-60 degree slopes. At this point we were further from the top of the face (and our intended bivi) than we had hoped to be, and visibility was deteriorating. Without enough daylight to descend, and not enough visibility to continue upward and through the cornice that hung over top the face, options were limited. We began shoveling off a ledge to sleep on. Unfortunately, there was only enough firm snow available to level off a platform 3 ft. deep by about 6-7 ft. wide. We sat in semi-slumping positions through the night, which was without a doubt one of the longest of our lives.

Scary Descent

What followed was an experience far more frightening than we had ever hoped for. As the weather continued to worsen we encountered occasional spindrift avalanches while we carryfully downclimbed and traversed our way back down towards the flutting. The lower we got on the face the more intense the avalanching became. It did not help that the main feature that we were downclimbing in (the flutting) was essentially the toilet bowl for the entire face, gathering an enormous amount of snow and flushing it straight down onto us. We downclimbed, facing in, as fast as we could without getting reckless, and when ice presented itself we rigged rappells and slid down the rope as fast as possible. As we reached the lower portion of the face we were dodging full blown, loose-snow avalanches about every 4-6 minutes. They came down like clockwork. As we raced to get off the lowest portion of the face we actually hid behind rock outcroppings and waited for the slides to pass by. We would then immediately start plunging down the 35 degree slope (almost running) as we tried to avoid getting burried by the next slide. After a nervewracking all day descent we were at last down off the face. More horrendous breakable crust provided the last sting in the tail as we crossed the glacier back to our high camp. The entire next day niether of us moved an inch. The wind was crashing down on our tent and must have been gusting to 70 mph. After a day of much needed rest we packed everything up in the middle of the storm and made our way back towards our first camp by the lake, hoping to meet our horse packer that evening for the journey back to civilization.

We took the next two days to hike back out to the highway where expected to be met with a vehicle at the same place we were dropped of by our bus. To our dismay, we had a further 4 or so miles to walk on a step paved highway that led back to the horseman's village. After arriving at his Tibetan style house we were treated to a sampa snack and a driver was called to take us the remaining distance down to Kangding. We gorged on plate after plate of Sichuan chicken and guzzled some much anticipated Tsing Tao beer. Later that night we met up with the guys who had been climbing on the south side of Reddomain as they had arrived back in Kangding a day earlier than we had.

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