Do I Want to Be a Mountaineer? Part 3

The Base Camp day one was indeed difficult: the friends soon started coming down with the first high-altitude symptoms—heavy head, nausea, and dizziness. Even the simplest thing—for example, going to the toilet—required an uphill climb over the rocks and a downhill scramble. And then came the cold, biting, relentless, and everywhere.

The small comforts included dessert. Custard, seviyan, suji ka seera, followed by a steaming cup of Bournvita or Horlicks, became my remedies for survival. That first day could have been unbearable, but the presence of a doctor and Sulakshana Ma’am's encouragement made it tough but survivable.

That evening, we were taken for a walk to familiarize ourselves with the peaks surrounding us. I learned that Kanchenjunga, being considered sacred by Sikkim, is off-limits to climbers from the Indian side. The last Indian expedition had been way back in 1999. Mt. Pandim, standing at 6,690 metres, is a virgin peak. Mt. Frey (5,830 metres), one of the most beautiful mountains we could lay our eyes upon, requires technical climbing skills; whereas beyond Rathong Pass lies Nepal, and it is from there that approaches to Mt. Rathong (6,679 metres), aptly called the "horn of a goat," commence.

Learning to Fall

The sky was overcast the next morning, so we decided not to make a second attempt at reaching the glacier and instead practiced Snow Craft—that is, learning to stop a fall. Slips on the mountain can be in any form: headfirst, sideways, or stomach down. I was dreading the drill. Actually, before I could gather any courage, my friend grabbed my leg and flung me off balance. I fell-but managed to arrest the fall somehow down a slope. Fear had turned into relief by then, and I may have lost all reluctance.

Practice was in walking in groups of three to five. That is essentially how mountaineers cross through crevassed terrain-if a person falls, the others pull him up. The mountaineer, I had written earlier in Part 1, indeed would call it a lifeline.

Vibrant, warm, and featherlight—this puffer jacket adds a pop of color to cold-weather layering while trekking.

Facing My Fear: Snow Shoes and the Glacier

Day 3 brought snowshoes, crampons, and the ice axe. Just putting on those snow shoes, each weighing nearly a kilo, felt like punishment. I had been scared of downhill walks; now, downhill walking in those arrays was impossible for me. I secretly prayed for clear trails without snow. But, of course, we were above the snow line. My prayers remained unheard.

On Day 4, we set out for the glacier. The night’s snowfall had coated the rocks, making every step uncertain. Was there solid ground beneath the snow, or just a gap waiting to twist my ankle? I kept stumbling, but with the help of friends and instructors, I made it to the top. That was the day I had my first breakdown of the course—those heavy shoes, the slippery rocks, the endless snow. But it also marked the beginning of my resilience.

Life at Base Camp

Days went by with a rhythm. We would train on or above the glacier from 7 in the morning to 3 in the afternoon. The afternoons consisted of lectures on glacier formation, expedition planning, and anchor systems. Nights were fun and relaxing; lots of playing Mafia and laughter bouncing off the tin huts.

Learning was there, yes, but one thought always bothered me: will we be hurting the very mountains we love? Mountaineering does leave its traces: glaciers are melting, and concrete is being poured into delicate ecosystems. The pangs of guilt haunted me, and the questions remain unanswered in my heart.

Two looks, one jacket—this reversible sleeveless puffer adds versatility to your winter expeditions.

Ice Walls, Jumar, and Bouldering

Glacier training tested every part of me. We climbed up the ice wall sans ice axe, then with one ice axe, two ice axes, and finally, with a Jumar. Peculiarly, “Jumar” comes from the names of its inventors—Adolf Jüsi and Martin Rossi—who took syllables from their last names.

Climbing on toe points was agony; halfway through, the calves felt like they were burning. A harder exercise than a hundred calf raises!

Then we bouldered and rock climbed. Here, the point was not to show off brute strength but to treat your toes and fingers gently while trying to balance the two. A heavy load was balanced by strength with cunning.

The Summit of Mt. Renok

On the penultimate day, we tackled Mt. Renok, a peak hovering at 16,500 feet. Never had base camp and training felt so gentle for this. Out of an entire batch of 62, 60 made it up there. Standing up there, with the world sprawling beneath us, was a reward unlike any other.

A Trail of Lights

As we readied for packing, the AMC students started retracing their path from ABC. By 7 p.m., they were descending, appearing as tiny yellow blobs against the night canvas, their headlamps glowing like firefly trails, a sight I will cherish forever.

Goodbye to Base Camp

The countdown for the HMI campus started. Now, hot showers were within reach. For ten days, I'd donned my Kosha thermals and breathable jacket, washing only with wet wipes every three days. The clothes' anti-odour factor was a blessing.

Returning snow shoes and ice axes felt weirdly sentimental, although I could not be glad I'd never have to contend with those shoes every morning for another time.

The last night in that tin hut, we, the gals, squeezed together for warmth- One more night stepping out under a sky thick with stars- One more night before clean socks and hot showers.

Tough on the outside, insulated on the inside—this navy parka is built for extreme cold and sudden showers on your mountain journeys.

The question remained: Do I really want to be a mountaineer?

Read Part 4 as my journey continues into the last phase of the course.

Tips to Deal with the Cold

1. Avoid metal in tumblers, mugs, bowls, or spoons—it freezes instantly against your lips or skin.
   
   
2. Always carry extra socks. Believe me, you’ll thank yourself later :)