But as the afternoon dragged on, and slower parties staggered back into camp from the still-building storm, the altitude see-saw began again. Our energy levels dropped and we struggled to eat as much as we felt we should. Visibility on the plateau and above (we were told) was down to an arm’s length and made crawling the only safe way to descend. Things were not looking good for our 2am plans. The afternoon brought some reprieve, but by midnight the winds had hit another high. A handful of tents in the campsite didn’t survive them, some collapsing on their own, others being pulled down by their owners who scurried into the hut in search of shelter.
By lam a frank discussion in our wind-battered tent led to the only reasonable conclusion: we wouldn’t be trying for the summit tonight. The mountain didn’t want us, and we didn’t have the strength to change its mind. In many ways it was not an easy choice. But in another sense it was never really a choice to begin with. We slept.
Cue 6am… and I’m sure you can guess already. An perfectly still morning. Immaculate fields of fresh snow coating the high summit above us. Not a hint of cloud to be seen in a hard sky of blue stretching horizon-wise. The best guess of the forecast was that it wouldn’t last. Torrential rains were incoming for the next few days. This was our chance, and it had already passed. We admired it. Snapped pictures. Took down the tent. Found a little time to feel sorry for ourselves. Put that to one side. Descended to the burning brightness of the glacier and began the journey down.
So no summit for us this time. But does that make the trip a failure? Not at all. We might have missed our chance to reach 5,047m, but as an opportunity for learning it couldn’t have been finer. The weather on any high mountain will always be a barrier, but a more experienced approach to the altitude – resting up, starting strong and ascending a maximum of 1,000m per day (how tempting the Arsha Pass campsite looked on the descent) – would have put us in a confident position to make good on our slim window to reach the tip of Kazbek. And next time, be it on this peak or some other exquisite slice of high altitude in some other unfamiliar part of the world, we will have the experience to make it work. For me, that chance can’t come soon enough.
