I summited 7134m Pik Lenin on August 2nd, 2017. I climbed solo above 5300m Camp 2, using a basecamp support package for 3500m Basecamp and 4400m Advanced Basecamp (“Camp 1”) from Central Asian Travel. I roped with other independent climbers while crossing the heavily crevassed lower glacier between 4400m Advanced Base Camp and 5300m Camp 2. Images and details from my unsuccessful 2016 Pik Lenin expedition can be found here.
In July of 2016 I made an unsuccessful attempt on Pik Lenin. Afterwards, the mountain and my non-summit had persistently lingered on my mind. I thought about the climb almost daily, dwelling upon my feelings of disappointment and considering what had gone wrong.
In February of 2017 I made a rather unpleasant, and ultimately unsuccessful attempt on a solo of 6893m Ojos del Salado from the Argentine side, via an approach across the vast and barren high altitude Atacama Desert. While unsuccessful, reaching only ~6350m due to thigh deep snow, extreme winds, and an incoming storm, I was surprised afterwards by my feelings of acceptance. The solo approach from an unacclimated start had been so gruelling that I was glad just to have made it to the base of Ojos, and the snow/weather conditions so poor that progress beyond my high point would indeed have been impossible for me; the non-summit had been entirely out of my control.
I didn’t feel the same way about Pik Lenin. I felt that I had made a mistake, that I should have continued and forged on instead of turning around, that I had given up too easily and let myself down. I decided to return and try again.
Below are images from the expedition, a calendar/schedule of my 2017 climb, and a day-by-day trip report.
Pik Lenin 2017 Photographs
Pik Lenin 2017 Trip Report
A 7.5 hour drive from Osh to Pik Lenin basecamp, arriving at 6:00 p.m. I ate dinner and immediately went to sleep, still jetlagged due to the transition from North America.
A relaxed hike took me to 3950m on nearby Pik Petrovski. Having climbed to the summit the year prior, I opted to stop after an hour of hiking and relax instead of pushing myself to move higher. A rapid descent down a scree slope took me back to basecamp.
One of my bags had not made it to Bishkek, missing the London/Moscow transfer. Within were all of my climbing clothes. I opted to take a full rest day in basecamp, and as luck would have it, the bag arrived just after midnight on a truck from Osh. Central Asian Travel’s Osh manager had sorted the delayed luggage’s transit from Bishkek to Osh, and delivered it on the next basecamp supply truck. Very impressive.
Loaded horses with 32kg of equipment and food, taking a ~12kg bag for myself. Hiked to Advanced Basecamp 4400m, 9:45 a.m. to 2:45 p.m. or 5 hours at a leisurely pace. I hiked accompanied by a Ukrainian soloist whom I had happened to meet several years prior on Aconcagua. It rained steadily throughout the day, transitioning into wet snow as we reached Advanced Basecamp.
After lunch I took a leisurely hike to 4760m up a nearby scree ridge. Stopped hiking after an hour, rested in the sun for about an hour, and then made a quick descent back to Advanced Basecamp.
I roped up with the Ukrainian soloist who had hiked to Advanced Basecamp with me, and we made an acclimation climb up to 5000m on the route to Camp 2. We began at 4:15 a.m. and reached 5000m at 9:00 a.m., a time of 4:45. At 5000m we took a break for about half an hour and then headed back down. We began early in order to avoid poor snow conditions and ensure that snowbridges would be in good shape.
The route was in decent condition, albeit with many more crevasses than I had encountered the year prior. A large avalanche had hit the route to Camp 2 about a week earlier, along the flat traverse below a heavily corniced section of the North Face immediately prior to Camp 2, and an early start in cold, stable conditions would also help to mitigate our exposure to another event.
I roped up with my Ukrainian friend once again for a carry to 5300m Camp 2 – fairly essential practice given the volume and state of the crevasses on route. I opted to take up all the supplies I would need for 8 days on the mountain in one foul shot on this carry, and thus make it the only truly heavy load of the entire climb. Rather than bring a second heavy load with me during my summit bid, which would burn energy and time when I would need it most, I had decided ahead of time that getting the carrying over with all at once was both manageable and reasonable given the technically easy nature of the route to Camp 2.
We departed 4400m Advanced Basecamp at 4:20 a.m., and arrived at 5300m Camp 2 at 11:40 a.m., a very slow time of 7:20. We took a slow, easy pace with our heavy bags, slowing further when the morning sun turned the route into a horrible furnace of soft snow and glare. On arrival I immediately pitched and anchored out my tent, cooked lunch, and took a nap.
After breakfast I packed a light bag and climbed to 6100m Camp 3, 9:15 a.m. to 12:15 p.m., or three hours. The route out of Camp 2 follows a ~35-40 degree slope before traversing across gentle terrain to the base of Pik Razdelnaya. A final slope of increasing steepness, to around 40-45 degrees, leads to Camp 3 at 6100m-6150m on the summit of Pik Razdelnaya. I rested for half an hour at 6100m and then descended to 5300m Camp 2, taking one hour. I had a headache on return to Camp 2, and to my dismay discovered that I had packed an empty Ibuprofen blisterpack. I took a nap, spent the afternoon reading, and struggled to eat a full dinner.
I had initially planned to make a second acclimation hike to 6100m today, but woke up feeling lethargic and uncomfortable. I had a minor headache and no appetite; mild AMS. I began my acclimation hike, but stopped at around 5500m and decided that I should take a full rest day instead. While I didn’t feel terrible enough to warrant descending, I had a fairly unpleasant rest day roasting in the heat of my tent.
I packed a light bag and descended from 5300m Camp 2 to 4400m Advanced Basecamp, leaving my tent and supplies well anchored. I departed at 7:00 a.m., and reached ABC at 8:50 a.m. I descended alone, unable to find another independent climber to rope with, gingerly making my way across the crevasses. In ABC I spent the remainder of the day resting, checking the weather forecast for a possible summit window.
The forecast showed a few days of favourable weather, followed by an abrupt spike in wind speeds. I took a full rest day, and prepared to begin my summit bid on the 31st.
With an extremely lightweight bag, I departed for 5300m Camp 2 roped up with an independent Czech climber. We began climbing at 4:15 a.m. and arrived in Camp 2 at 9:00 a.m., taking 4:45. The weather was perfect, clear and windless, and the climb much easier than my load carry several days before.
I packed all of my equipment and supplies and climbed from 5300m Camp 2 to 5800m, near the base of the final slope below 6100m Camp 3. I departed Camp 2 at 10:30 a.m., and arrived at my 5800m “Camp 2.5” at 1:00 p.m., taking 2:30 while moving at a leisurely pace. Here I stopped and pitched my tent.
I had decided in advance that I would forego sleeping at 6100m Camp 3, and instead use this spot at 5800m as the high camp from which I would launch my summit bid. I had made this decision for several reasons. First, Camp 3 is filthy. Human waste and dirty snow is everywhere, making it very difficult to prepare clean water. This had likely contributed to the stomach issues I had experienced in 2016. Second, Camp 3 is fairly high, making it difficult to eat and sleep well. I knew from prior experience that camping 300m lower would have a significant positive influence on my appetite and sleep. Third, Camp 3 is very exposed, and I knew from my three nights there in 2016 that in high wind or storm it would be a particularly unpleasant place to be based.
While I was nervous that the additional 300m of altitude gain on summit day would be quite significant when undertaken prior to the already very long summit ridge (almost 6km above 6000m), I also felt strong, and confident in my endurance. Given that the ridge to the summit descends ~100m immediately past Camp 3, I was setting myself up for a 1400m summit day. I had decided that the tradeoffs of using a lower high camp were worth it, and indeed I enjoyed a quiet, pleasant afternoon of rest and abundant eating. I checked the weather forecast on my satellite phone before going to sleep; it called for 25km/h winds and light snowfall.
Awake around 3 a.m., I managed to eat a light meal and drink some water. I packed two litres of water with electrolyte mix (one heavily caffeinated), some snacks, my down pants, and my storm gloves into a summit pack. I left my tent at 4:20 a.m., intentionally late compared to the standard departure times used by most who climb Lenin. I left late because I knew the route to be of very moderate difficulty, and because I wanted to minimize the time spent climbing in darkness and the cold of night.
I crossed the ridge towards the slope to Razdelnaya and Camp 3 and began to ascend, reaching Camp 3 at 5:40 a.m. as the sun began to rise, taking 1:20 from my tent. Without stopping in Camp 3 I descended ~100m to the saddle between Razdelnaya and Lenin’s summit ridge, where I continued upwards on moderate snow slopes. The sun began to cast a glow over the mountain, warming things up and providing superb views of the surrounding mountains and the massive glacier far below.
I began to pass other climbers, a few having turned around. I soon reached the base of ‘The Knife’, a short ~50-55 degree snow slope sporting a fixed rope of dubious anchorage, and front pointed up it with my 70cm straight shaft ice ax and trekking pole. From the top of the knife the route continued along gentle slopes for what felt like an eternity. The entire summit ridge from Camp 3 to the high point is well above 6000m and is almost 6km long.
At around 11:45 I met a friendly French Canadian climber whom I had spoken with in Camp 2 days earlier; he was descending from the summit, was encouraging, and told me that I was getting close to the top. I enjoyed the bright sunshine and blue skies, and made steady pace with a focused, controlled rest stepping rhythm. Around half an hour later the weather abruptly and somewhat violently worsened. A strong wind picked up, clouds rolled over the mountain, and snow began to fall. I double checked my phone battery, confirmed that my GPS was tracking correctly, and continued on.
I soon found myself ascending across the upper summit ridge in deteriorating visibility. At around 12:30 p.m. I reached the upper plateau of rolling hills and false summits, where I encountered a group of climbers debating their course of action. Another climber descending from the summit was telling them that the summit was still about an hour away, and further that he felt the worsening conditions made the upper slopes too dangerous to proceed. Confident in my GPS navigation, holding a litre of water, still feeling strong, well prepared with abundant backup layers in the form of my down pants and storm mittens, and still feeling quite comfortably warm in my extremities, I continued past them. Ten minutes later the summit came into view, one climber descending from it and a third figure standing atop.
I reached the summit at 12:45 p.m., 8:25 from my tent at 5800m and 7:05 from Camp 3 at 6100m. I spent about 3 minutes quickly taking a few dozen photographs of the summit and of myself. The climber who was on top when I arrived was Russian, alone and preparing to descend. While he did not speak English, nor I Russian, I introduced myself and offered to accompany him down with my GPS, to which he happily agreed. We began down through an absolute whiteout.
The descent was long and psychologically arduous. Moving in atrocious visibility and high winds, which felt as if gusts were reaching into the ~70km/h range, my GPS track was the only thing keeping me headed in the right direction and off of the slopes leading down to Lenin’s north face. Below the slope of ‘The Knife’ visibility improved somewhat, but progress remained slow. As we reached the saddle between Razdelnaya and Lenin’s summit ridge we met three friendly Ukrainians whom I had run into twice previously on the mountain.
Only about 100m of distance and 80m of vertical away from Camp 3, the GPS nonetheless remained absolutely essential for navigation in the poor visibility. As we broke trail through now-knee-deep snow, electric shocks buzzed our hair; thunder boomed in the distance. Rather than risk being struck by lightning, we removed all of our metal equipment, tossed it in a heap several meters away from us, and grounded ourselves for roughly half an hour until the thunder ceased. I reached Camp 3 at 7:20 p.m., and continued down to my 5800m high camp, getting back into my tent at 8:00 p.m., making for a fifteen and a half hour day.
The storm continued all night, dumping a good 20-30 cm of fresh snow. High winds continued in the early morning, and I resigned myself to the fact that I might have to wait a day before descending. Around 9:00 a.m. the wind began to calm somewhat, and I quickly began packing my equipment for descent. I departed my camp at 10:20 a.m., and started the slog back down to Camp 2.
Along the way I met a pair of friendly and experienced Czech climbers who agreed to rope up for the final descent from 5300m Camp 2 to Advanced Basecamp. I was delighted to have a group of three on my rope for the lower glacier, as while conditions were wet enough for crevasses to be easily visible, the route was made somewhat riskier for now being snow covered. We reached Advanced Basecamp at 3:00 p.m., an unpleasant and slow descent on loose, wet snow while hauling heavy bags.
August 4th – 5th
I descended from Advanced Basecamp to Basecamp, using horses to haul some ~30kg of equipment down. The day after arriving in Basecamp I drove back to Osh.