The team comprised Bob Koen, Graham Rowbotham (Canada) Andy Scrase (NZ) and Tony Hunter (Aus) on BIII. Helen Habgood & Helen Weiss (BII). Bill Koen and Clare Brooks, trekkers.

On the way down from the Scottish route was an American party of two. Our hearts sank as they told stories of desperate climbing on iced granite with crampons and axes, terrain which would normally succumb to the gentler tread of rock boots.

We deposited our loads and returned to base camp as planned. We considered the options carefully. The Scottish route looked pretty hopeless at the time. The nearby Bhagirathi II offered an alternative climb which would provide us with valuable training. Though an easy snow climb, it would get us to beyond 6500m and help us acclimatise.

Load carrying to Advanced Base

The two Helens had planned this climb all along, but without a permit had attempted to sneak up the mountain without anyone noticing. With several Indian expeditions to the peak established in the area, the chances of this were not very likely. They got accosted by an angry Indian army officer who sent them back and demanded that they pay the $700US necessary to climb the peak.

That they did was fortuitous for the rest of us, who were able to use the permit as well. We all set off up the valley, leapfrogging past the multitude of Indian camps who were attempting to siege this mountain into submission by whatever means. Our second camp on the hill was also our summit camp. 1000 metres of ascent up avalanche-prone slopes and through some rather suspect fixed roped led us to the summit by mid afternoon. The views were obscured by the usual afternoon build-up which robbed us of the sight of the granite walls where we had been camped a few days previously. We called Bill at Base Camp on our radios with the good news.

Our decent to the valley was greeted by the Indians with a rather embarassing heroes' welcome, though the mugs of hot chi were very welcome. We talked mountains and cricket, and planned some matches with the groups that had gathered down at Nandanban.

Base camp life was a luxurious treat after the cramped tents and cold early mornings on the mountains. Wake up call was with a bowl of hot water for washing and a relaxed breakfast, served by the ever cheerful Til, our cook. Some reading was interspersed with the odd game of lung-straining cricket against an increasingly keen group of Indian opponents.

The high spot of our cricket series was against a full team of Calcuttans whose enthusiasm and skill left our team somewhat lacking. Facing the last crucial ball, I managed a chip into a corner where the fielder had been momentarily distracted by Bill's conversation. Winning the match provided a brief moment of glory, and we were invited to the Indian yurt (a large double-walled tent) for supper and an evening of singing and dancing.

After waiting for so long for the snow to clear off the Scottish route, we finally made up our mind to go for it. We had already established a gear and food cache at advanced base camp. Our plan now was to move on up to the foot of the route and start climbing in earnest.
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