Pakistan and the Spantik Expedition (Part 1)

I’ve just re-emerged from Pakistan’s Karakoram mountain range, where I spent the past month without signal on a climbing expedition of Spantik Peak. I’ve written about the first half of the trip below, and will share part two in the coming days.

The Spantik expedition wasn’t in the original plan for my year of travel, but after climbing a few smaller mountains in South America, I wanted to try an “expedition style” (i.e. “very long”) climb of a larger peak. The Spantik summit is at 23,000 feet, and the tallest mountain I had previously climbed was Chimborazo in Ecuador, at 20,500 feet. The South American mountains are unique in that, despite their high elevation, they’re located close to capital cities from which you can acclimatize to the altitude. But in Pakistan, the mountains are both larger and more remote, so we had to first trek to the mountain, then adjust to the altitude from a campsite at the base of the mountain, then wait for a good weather window, climb the actual mountain, and trek back. The whole process took nearly a month start to finish, hence the phrase “expedition style.”

Our expedition started in Pakistan’s capital of Islamabad, where I met my two climbing partners, Pierre and Hugues from Belgium, and our guide Luke, an American professional ski mountaineer. Luke splits his time between Nepal, Pakistan, and India, either climbing large peaks and skiing back down, or guiding small groups of clients in their pursuit of the same (Pierre and Hugues planned to ski, while I’d descend on foot). After a night in Islamabad, we flew North to Skardu, the gateway to the mountains. Here’s a photo of our team on the runway (Luke on the left, Pierre and Hugues center) and of our first views of the Karakoram mountain range:

Skardu is a typical Pakistani town, but one that receives a regular influx of mountain climbers in the summer months. Here’s a photo of two billboards in the town center, likely aimed at a small subset of the visiting climbers:

In Skardu we stayed at Hotel Summit, where all guests fit one of three demographics: a) western mountain climbers and their guides, b) Nepali Sherpa, whom many guides fly to Pakistan for expedition support given their notorious strength in the mountains, or c) Pakistani “High Altitude Porters,” which are Pakistan’s equivalent of the Nepali climbing Sherpa. Our expedition was supported by two Pakistani High Altitude Porters, Zakir and Dilawar, whom we met at Hotel Summit. They are two of the strongest climbers in Pakistan, and by many accounts, Dilawar is the strongest climber in Pakistan. Spoiler alert: in part two you’ll read about Dilawar dragging me down the mountain, with altitude sickness, in the middle of the night. For now, here are photos we took during a rest day halfway up the mountain (Dilawar left, Zakir right):

Hotel Summit was also where I met the most unique character of my travels thus far, and I can assure you that that’s really saying something. Andreas, an Austrian mountain guide, had just returned from K2, the second tallest mountain in the world, as part of his quest to reach the highest point of every country. No one has accomplished this, or even come close, but apparently four guys are currently trying. Many of his climbs had required “tactical skills” rather than mountain skills (in places like Somalia, for example), and the stories from such climbs were legitimately outrageous. He even proposed that I join his quest: he’d guide, and I’d take some photos and build him a social media presence. It was a tempting proposition.

After joining forces with our High Altitude Porters (and a lengthy conversation with Andreas), we formally launched our expedition and departed from Hotel Summit. We loaded our gear and ourselves into two Jeeps and drove 6 hours to the village of Arandu, the end of the nearest road to Spantik. Here’s a photo of the passenger Jeep (left) and the gear Jeep (right):

Here are photos of the village of Arandu:

In Arandu, the locals live off the land with no monetary economy. One exception: the village employs porters to carry climbing gear to Spantik base camp in the summer months. Our expedition was supported by nearly 50 local Arandu porters, who carried our teams gear and a months worth of food to the base camp. Here’s a photo of some of the porters headed towards Spantik:

In Islamabad and Skardu I got by without Hijab (despite the billboards), since both places are accustomed to foreigners. But the locals of Arandu were not the least bit accustomed to foreigners, particularly foreign women (Spantik is not a crowded peak, and most climbers are male), so it was apparent that I’d need a Hijab to walk through the village. Here’s a video of a local woman (and Luke) assisting in the process:

After acquiring my Hijab, we started the trek to base camp. Some photos:

After three days of trekking we arrived at Spantik base camp, which would serve as a home base from which we’d climb the mountain. Here are two photos of the base camp, which was perched on a hill above a large glacier:

The base camp was like a small village, with roughly 30 climbers plus support staff (cooks, logistics managers, etc.) living at the camp for the month of August. The climbers were grouped into small teams, and each team had a dining, cooking, and toilet tent. Here’s a photo of our team’s dining and chilling tent, “the dome.” The green tent in the background belonged to a group of Germans, with whom we had an occasionally tumultuous relationship.

We had our own sleeping tents at the base camp (but shared sleeping tents above the base camp). Here are photos of my tent at the base camp:

Our first few days at the base camp were spent resting under the watchful eye of Luke. A good mountain guide is a bit like a babysitter, and Luke was no exception. He’d constantly ask us to describe our physical and mental state, which would result in the procurement of various pills. By day two we were all on diamox for the altitude and an antibiotic for a stomach virus we all had. Twice a day, Luke would confirm we’d taken our pills. It was a bit like a psych ward.

Before, during, and after our climbing efforts, we spent quite a few days hanging around the base camp. Climbers often struggle with the down time, but our team was unusually good at it. A few of our favorite pass-times:

1. Multi-hour conversations on the ongoing comparison of our four person team to a cult. Our roles in the cult were constantly evolving, but one never changed: Luke was “The Watcher.” My role changed every few days, but “Head of Security” seemed to ultimately stick (I still wonder what this means)

2. It was rather fitting that Luke had the Netflix series “How to be a Cult Leader” downloaded on his iPad. We watched it in the dome tent

3. Bucket showers

4. Pierre and I had a particular affinity for listening to Bob Dylan on our makeshift “veranda,” while trying to count the number of colors in the mountain in the distance. Pierre thinks there are more than 30 colors. I am skeptical:

After a few days of engaging in the above activities at the base camp (the first of many days engaging in the above activities), it was time to start climbing the mountain. Spantik is typically climbed in four days, starting from the base camp and utilizing three campsites higher up on the mountain. Before our summit push, we’d take two separate trips up the mountain to acclimatize to the altitude. I’ll write about the actual climbing in Part 2. Thanks for following!