Mountain Tales: An Unlikely Journey to Friendship Peak
Authored by Ajit Chaudhuri
An early disclosure for those who, from the title of this note, are expecting a comparative analysis of hook-up sites on the dark web (or something similar); this is on a topic I am perhaps even less qualified to expound upon – a mountaineering expedition to the 5,287-meter Friendship Peak in Himachal Pradesh.
So, what was an obese 60-year-old doing on the said expedition?
A question no doubt on the minds of the other participants when we met in Solang Nallah a few miles north of Manali – they were a group of supremely fit athletes who had trained for months and were primed to take on the peak, and my grey hair and girth marked me apart. A question that my spouse had raised earlier, along with a suggestion that I look at myself in a mirror, ignored because, as the saying goes, ‘no man is a hero to his wife and his butler’. A question that the expedition leader had also raised when I enlisted, dealt with by (falsely) claiming that I was as fit as when I had done the Everest Base Camp (EBC) with him in 2021.
A valid question, may I add, given that I was subsequently at the tail by miles every day and did not even attempt the last section of the climb; given the difficulties I had in getting out of a tent and into the cold night air to you-know-what, which prostrate problems frequently required me to do; and several similar issues. But – I had recently retired (and was at a loose end); I had not indulged in some days walking with a little weight on my back and soft ground under my feet since 2021; this was the only show in town by the people that I trusted, B&C; and I was keen to make the shift from trekking to mountaineering before I turned seriously geriatric. And, sometimes, ‘a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do’.
I’m delighted that I did what I did, despite the above. Why?
The first reason is Mount Friendship itself – not high but requiring technical knowledge and equipment – so an ideal peak to make the transition from trekking to mountaineering. Opinions varied from the climb being a breeze, especially with sufficient time spent training on the equipment beforehand, to being super-dangerous, with high winds, many crevasses, and the ever-present possibility of avalanches. Our own expedition got caught in a 2-day blizzard on our way up, resulting in us having to turn around from camp 1 on the first day and return to the road head, and then do the 2-day walk up to camp 2 in one day, spending both days walking with snow pelting into our faces (a schedule is appended). It also resulted in the summit camp (camp 3) being uninhabitable because of heavy snow and us therefore having to begin the summit attempt from camp 2. The summit climb was subsequently deemed too dangerous, and the group returned from the about 180 meters below it. But I have attempted a mountain (not yet sure if that gives me the right to describe myself as a ‘mountaineer’ at cocktail parties) and can now show off to my trekking friends (who know the difference between trekking and mountaineering) on how to tie crampons or walk with snow boots.
The Author at the Roadhead in Dhundi
The second is the group that I was with, intimidating at first sight because they looked like participants at an ironman competition but in time taking on distinct hues and personalities that I was both comfortable with and liked very much. There was a young man who had no issues in attempting to climb a mountain but had difficulty talking to girls; a national-level kho-kho player who was on his second attempt on the mountain, the first too had been unsuccessful, who philosophically suggested that ‘if a mountain does not want you on it, the mountain will not have you on it’; a recently hitched software engineer who did not know whether he would have a job when he came down the mountain because his office had undergone a regime change; a PhD candidate who had decided to pursue pure science after his engineering degree instead of raking in the bucks writing code; a retired army man who ran a printing business that required his presence 24/7 but still took time out for long distance cycling; a corporate hotshot who ran marathons on the side, who was here with his family to give his son an experience of a lifetime; a marathoner businessman on his first foray into high altitude, looking to challenge himself by dealing with the unexpected, et al (I could go on, but this note would turn into a ramayana).
The second is the group that I was with, intimidating at first sight because they looked like participants at an ironman competition but in time taking on distinct hues and personalities that I was both comfortable with and liked very much. There was a young man who had no issues in attempting to climb a mountain but had difficulty talking to girls; a national-level kho-kho player who was on his second attempt on the mountain, the first too had been unsuccessful, who philosophically suggested that ‘if a mountain does not want you on it, the mountain will not have you on it’; a recently hitched software engineer who did not know whether he would have a job when he came down the mountain because his office had undergone a regime change; a PhD candidate who had decided to pursue pure science after his engineering degree instead of raking in the bucks writing code; a retired army man who ran a printing business that required his presence 24/7 but still took time out for long distance cycling; a corporate hotshot who ran marathons on the side, who was here with his family to give his son an experience of a lifetime; a marathoner businessman on his first foray into high altitude, looking to challenge himself by dealing with the unexpected, et al (I could go on, but this note would turn into a ramayana).
There were two others who, like me, stood out at first sight – the only lady in the group, who had been to EBC and who was here with her husband and son, and her 12-year-old son, with whom I had something in common despite us being significant outliers at the respective ends of the group’s age distribution curve. He knew football, and I mean really knew it – players, clubs, matches, tactics (he knew, for example, who Riquelme was) – and we spent a lot of time discussing the game.
As a group, some things stood out. One was the support for each other, along with the conducive atmosphere and positivity in common areas such as the mess tent. Another was the way they handled the disappointment of not achieving the objective of the expedition – there was not one dissenting voice at the announcement that it would be too dangerous (helped by the fact that ongoing avalanches in the upper reaches were visible to the eye during an acclimatization walk), and the group’s joy at reaching where they reached in the extreme conditions seemed no less than what it would have been on summitting. For me, they were a wonderful representation of youth in a forward looking, meritocratic India, and very different from the semi-educated angry losers or rich entitled f—s that one usually comes across.
The group somewhere along the way
The third reason is the opportunity to be with Boots and Crampons, and expedition leader Col. Romil, once again. Nothing threw the organizers (including Giri, Ravi, and team) off – the weather and the resultant changes in schedule, the significant distance between the group’s head and the tail every day in a tough terrain, the fact that the mule party carrying our stuff was having difficulty negotiating the route, inter alia – it was just another day at the office for them, and the participants could concentrate on the walking and climbing and not on food (which was fantastic), stay and logistical arrangements. And, as always, time with Col. Romil had me asking questions of my value system and assumptions about life.
I would like to conclude with some thoughts on success and failure. Are they Boolean binaries, one or the other, or are there shades of grey with some success in failure and vice versa? In this expedition, I was perhaps the only one who met his primary objective, that of returning alive and intact. And yet, there was a sense of serious achievement in the group, that we had followed the day and reached for the sun. Because, as they say, ‘life is either a daring adventure or it is nothing’.
| Schedule | |
| Date | Activity |
| 13 Oct | Travel from Delhi to Manali on an overnight HP Roadways bus |
| 14 Oct | Reach Manali, travel Manali to Solang Nallah
Acclimatization walk to Solang village (alone) Night in Hotel Iceland |
| 15 Oct | Acclimatization walk with Sweta, Pulkit and Malik along the River Beas
Acclimatization walk with expedition members to local temple Equipment check, night in Hotel Iceland |
| 16 Oct | Solang Nallah to Dhundi (road head for expedition)
Dhundi to Camp 1 (Baharthach), return to Dhundi due to heavy snowfall Night in camp at Dhundi |
| 17 Oct | Dhundi to Camp 2 (Lady’s Leg), night in Lady’s Leg |
| 18 Oct | Practise with snow boots, garters, crampons
Acclimatization walk to summit base camp and back to Lady’s Leg Night in Lady’s Leg |
| 19 Oct | Acclimatization walk to ridge over Beaskund Lake |
| 20 Oct | 0030 hours – group begins walk to Mt. Friendship (I did not join)
Night in Lady’s Leg |
| 21 Oct | Lady’s Leg to Dhundi – onwards to Manali by vehicle
Team dinner at Corner House Café Night in Manali – end of expedition |
| 22 Oct | Personal trip: Manali to Keylong by bus
Walk to Gumling Night Halt in Hotel Chandrabhaga (Keylong) |
| 23 Oct | Walk around Keylong, visit to Roerich Gallery and local Gompa. Night in Keylong |
| 24 Oct | Keylong – Manali – Delhi by bus |
| 25 Oct | Arrive in Delhi |
