Saturday 31 August 2013

CLIMBING STORY - Part I



If the mountain won't come to Mohammed, then Mohammed must go to the mountain

A taxi driver didn‘t leave straight away but stood at the car and was curiously staring at me how I would managed it.
I put a heavy, 40 litres rucksack full of cans and other food on my shoulders, but from the site of my chest. Then I put a completely packed 70 litres big rucksack on my back. By that I fixed straps of my front rucksack so they would not slip off from my shoulders. The big rucksack was too heavy so I had to fix its waist strap around my waist, just above a money belt full of small but important things like cash, IDs or passport. Finally, I put my second 40 litres rucksack on the top of a huge suitcase with wheels and at the same time I started to drag my travel bag (also on wheels) next to me by my other hand.
Already sweaty from putting all this staff on me, I have dragged myself to the railway station entrance, where after checking my ticket and passport I had to scan all my baggage through a scanner. I had to take off my entire luggage from my shoulders again, put it into that scanning machine one by one and then on the other side pick up all five bags (I’ve still haven’t mentioned a small bag with food and drinks for the train journey) and repeat the entire loading procedure again.
It was here, when under that heavy weight a holder on my travel bag already broke so I could not pull it behind me anymore but had to carry it in my hand. Fortunately, the suitcase was still resistant against its weight. If even one of its wheel would get stuck I would be sentenced to do ‘’double shifts’’ – moving 15m ahead, leave the suitcase there and then come back for the rest of my luggage (God thanks it didn’t happen).

I would never thought that weeks of physical preparation are nothing in compare with the difficulty of travel arrangement preparation, looking for sponsors, getting climbing permit, finding an insurance company (which would insure me even for an ascent of 7500m high mountain) and shopping for high altitude gear. You should try to manage all this in a country, where you don’t speak their language, don’t understand their writing even a word and finding English speaking Chinese is nearly mission impossible.  
 
The train journey was not very interesting except the fact that it took three and half days.
What was definitely more interesting, were train changings. To get on and get off the train with heavy five pieces of luggage is an experience by itself. Of course, it is not possible in once, but you have to do it in two rounds. Obviously, you would not like to leave the baggage on the platform unattendant when you are going back to the train for the rest of your luggage and on the top of it there are at least ten unpatient Chinese getting on the train and pushing you back inside.
Train stations are designed not to let homeless people stay in and therefore all exits from the train would lead you out with no chance changing a train without going out of the station. I had to get down the stairs into an underground passage, walk through 40m long tunnel which ends with another staircase that I had to climb with my suitcase and all that to find myself in front of the station anyway. Without any other option I had to climb another stairs to get to the second floor entrance (I have no idea why all Chinese stations have entrance on the second floors) where they would check your ticket, passport and scan your luggage again. After all this, you would end up in a waiting hall again with other hundreeds of commuters. All then the announcement board showed me  that my train is comming to the second platform where I can only get through the underground tunnel again...

But the most interesting part of my journey was while travelling in a seating carriage. Because of the late train arrival I had to rebook my ticket for a new one and the only one available was for a seating carriage.
There are four classes of railway tickets in China – standing, seating, hard sleeper - six beds open compartment, and soft sleeper -four beds lockable compartment. Keep in mind that China is so big that you might travel just by one train even longer than three days and then you may change for another three days journey again...
Standing is allowed only in sleeping carriages and because the tickets for standing are very cheap, these carriages are always full of people travelling for shorter distances (please understand short distances could be up to 12 hours in China). I only understood it when a train door opened and some people nearly fell off the train. Probably the same surprise was on their side too when they saw me with a huge suitcase and other four rucksacks and bags. I had thrown the bags between them, left the suitcase and rucksack there and slowly started to force my way through the crowd to my seat. Roughly in the middle of the carriage, I found my place seated by a dad with his little boy, two students sqeezed next to him, an old lady sleeping on opposite seat with another student girl and between them probably a four years ald baby. Moreover, there was a men standing between these seats and leaning his weight against a table in the middle. Whole sceene was surrounded by everywhere scattered boxes, big and typical stripped bags and some more suitcases that did not find place on the shelf above seats.
I even didn’t have space to put my big rucksack so I ask for my seat (simply showing them my train ticket and surprisingly they very kindly left one seat for me) and I put all my staff on the seat, except a travel bag which I sqeezed under the seat. Shortly, I was forceing my way through the crowd again to get my left suitcase and rucksak. In those moments I was only thinking where I would put that huge suitcase when I came back to my seat again. After I step on nearly everybody’s foot and after pushing over the same amount of people as when I was coming to my place for the first time, I carried my huge suitcase in my arms back to my seat where I stayed helplessly standing.
Then, by a mirracle, the standing man pushed suitcases on the shelf to the sides with all his flyweight and I was able with his help to put my heavy suitcase in that small gap. Finally, we pushed it with all our strength all the way inside (I think that by pushing my suitcase inside, at least two other suitcases had to fell off the shelf on both sides of this long carriage shelf).
Standing next to my seat where my bags were rested, I spent all my six hours journey to my next destination.  There was already awaiting me my next challenge – move from this carriage to the sleepers carriage on the same train (please don’t ask why I had the journey so complicated, because explaining it would take another half page and I am sure I would not be able to explain it clearly enough...)
And so, after six hours I had to force my way to the carriage door through I think even more crowded train than before. All this again with two ways as I had to came back for my big suitcase. Finally, when the crowd spewed me out on the platform and I had gathered all my luggage, I put quickly everything on me and started to run. Well, run..better to say I started half-crowling through hundreeds of people trying to get on the train. Not deliberetaly, I managed to hit maybe dozen of pople who were just staring at me and complitely petrified. They didn’t give me a way even by moving 10cm (this ‚un-moving‘ experience I have not only from this on-platform-run experience but also from other places in China).
The trains in China are very long so they can take as many people as possible and therefore it is not uncommon to see even 32 carriages long train (try to calcualate it by let say 20 meters long carriage). I had to do my hardle race to the front of train as soon as possible so I don’t miss the train as I would miss the next train connections and other seating carriage will be deadly for me. My seating carriage had number 27 but after stressfull and exhausting run I finally climb into my sleepers carriage number 7.

After the experience like this, I considered all my other travelling a stroll through a spring garden. Not anymore I had to pull my luggage for any longer than 150 meters and even so only on flat surface without any stairs... ;-)

I met (for the first time ever!) my climbing partner Phil on the station in the second biggest province city Kashgar (surely, he didn’t have so much luggage as me).
Everywhere presented soldiers with automatic guns scared us a bit (esspecially after a sad story of shot climbers in Pakistan), but it was because of uprising that had happend just a few days before we came there. That province wanted to get separated from China so Chinese government sent army to sort things out...
The organizers of our climbing permit and accomodation in the base camp took care of us from this point onwards.
Five hours long journy between deep canyons with beautifully snow covered peaks above us, knocked out all our pre-expedition stress and with our heads already clear and fresh like the mountain air around us, we finally got under our mountain. That was surrounded by yurts made from concrete...
Muztagh Ata, our climbing peak, welcomed us dressed into an orange sunset light. We couldn’t wish for a nicer welcoming.


IN THE PART II:
-          about frostbitten fingers and nose
-          about broken toe
-          about crowling between lightings from snow storm
-          about a fight for a tent in the highest camp
...and about much more, but also about ascending Muztagh Ata in minus 37°C!





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