Day 12 - 30th November
I rose next morning at 04:45 and could barely eat any breakfast. Whether this was down to altitude (we were now at 3,700m), nerves or lack of sleep I couldn't be sure, but I couldn't face much food in the morning and was keen to get moving. Wameak and Junus were going to accompany me to an unspecified point, after which I would continue alone.
We followed a clear path heading south-west from the cave along a valley. After an hour of gentle ascent that kept Trikora to our left-hand side, Wameak spotted a break in the first escarpment and headed off the path over some boggy ground to try to find a path. I could still see bootmarks heading south west on the actual path, but the language barrier prevented us from really understanding each other. My frustration with the situation began to grow and after Wameak had been gone for about 45 minutes with no sign of finding a path, I gestured to Junus that I had had enough. I asked him to bring me the lunch food and gestured to indicate that I would continue along the path and try to skirt round a subsidiary peak that protected Trikora's north-facing buttress to look for a safe way up. I thought I could see path up to the summit ridge high up behind this subsidiary peak. I felt like the time wasted so far would be fatal to my attempts to even get on the mountain and I preferred moving positively to sitting around and waiting for the guide to identify the path. I was sure if he found a path it would most probably be the wrong one anyway.
I set off to skirt round the minor peak over grassy ground that got steeper and steeper. As I traversed, I realised that the ground ahead was becoming steeper and steeper and so I decided I may as well make it to the top of the minor peak to at least gain a good vantage point to survey the ground ahead. The porter had shouted across to Wameak and they followed me at some distance. It was hot, sweaty work to plod slowly up this waterlogged peak, which was riven with many small, watery fissures that I had to cross with care. Eventually, I reached the crest and was joined some time later by the two others.
My hopes of spotting an an obvious break in the buttresses ahead were dashed – I really couldn't see any feasible way to get on this mountain! Ahead and slightly to the right was a 100m high grass-covered corner and Wameak identified this as the route I should take to gain the summit ridge. He explained that two Japanese climbers had climbed this way using ropes and climbing gear. Although the route got less steep near the top, it looked atrocious and would have been incredibly risky, especially in the wet. I decided to call this Plan B and expalined that I wanted to explore all other options before committing to this.
Therefore, we continued to skirt West and South along the base of Trikora's flank. We were now off the path and had to cover broken ground where every footstep had to be taken with care. It sapped a huge amount of mental energy, knowing that every footstep could lead to a plunge into an unseen hole. We walked like this for 2 hours and as we progressed slowly, I always expected to see round the next corner a break in the wall that would allow easy access to the summit ridge. I identified a col where we should be able to see down a valley that ran south and from where I would be able to see an accessible route. As we sat on the col, I looked south and saw that Trikora's buttresses seemed to run unbroken into the distance. It was clear that it would take too long to reach a ridge at the bottom of the valley that MAY have given me good access to Trikora's ridge. I was completely despondent. We had walked for 4 hours, it was incredibly hot and now we would have to retrace our footsteps with no prospect of getting on Trikora today. I had been desperately scanning the wall to my left for any possible access routes and could see that even if I managed to climb up some of the steep and exposed corners, I would still have faced an unknown and steep route above to gain the summit ridge.
We trudged back to the route that Wameak had identified and I began to feel weaker and weaker. I explained that there was no way I would be able to attempt that route today. We had already walked for 4.5 hours across difficult ground, I was feeling weak and my breathing was very rapid. My heart rate was 120 bpm and I was not going to risk being stuck halfway up Trikora when I had no clear exit strategy. I was starting to feel nauseous and was now struggling to keep pace with the two others. We had decided to walk East, this time keeping Trikora to our right-hand side, to recce a path for the next day. Although this sounded good in principal, my physical condition was not good and I was starting to run low on water. From my previous experiences at altitude I knew how easy it was to become dehydrated and how badly this could affect my performance.
I tried hard to follow the others and became frustrated and angry with Wameak. I began to feel more nauseous and finally knelt down and threw up. I explained that I was going to head immediately back down to the cave – I should have told the others to accompany me but I also wanted to make sure I had some possibility to get on the mountain the next day so I allowed them to continue on with their search for the right path. I wanted to find the place where Wameak had gone off the path earlier in the day, because I thought if I found that boggy ground below then I would just head East to hit the path. However, I didn't want to have to climb back up the energy-sapping subsidiary peak that I had climbed up earlier. I made my second big mistake and made my down to the edge of the escarpment to find a way down to the boggy ground.
The ground below was steep and I wasn't sure what I would face after the initial descent. I crept my way down beside a small stream through thick bush. I was grabbing handfuls of bush, tree and grass to cover the steep ground and realised soon that I had made a serious error. I was on my own, with no way to contact the others, I was weak, dehydrated and I had no idea what lay below me as the ground dropped off steeply. However, the adrenaline was kicking in and and I had to trust my own abilities. Most of the trees and tree stumps were dead and brittle so I grasped clumps of grass and bush for safety. At one point, I had to swing out over the stream 20 feet below and this was the worst moment of all – I was only being supported by two clumps of grass and as I found a foothold below and made it on to relatively safe ground I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I followed the ravine down for another 50 feet and then saw the beautiful sight of a more gentle slope that ran down to the boggy ground below. At this point I started to both relax and curse myself for my own stupidity. It was a stark reminder of how easily one bad decision can snowball and lead to a very dangerous situation.
Once I was on the boggy ground I had to make my way back uphill to reach an exit route from the escarpment. It was soul-destroying having to trudge back uphill in my physical condition, but eventually I spotted the path and knew that I just had to stumble along it and it would eventually take me back to the cave. I got there 1.5 hours later to find all the others asleep. I crashed out, and only rose when I heard Wameak asking if I wanted tea. I was pissed off that he had not boiled any water so that I could rehydrate. I had lost a huge amount of fluid both from sweating and from water vapour in my breath. The Papuan porters didn't sweat and drank infrequently and didn't seem to appreciate how important it was for me as a Westerner to have access to copious amounts of fresh water. But I was too tired to fight with them so I quietly drank my tea, refused any offer of food and sank back into my tent.
As I lay in my tent, I began to convince myself that it was now impossible for me to get up this mountain. I was still feeling sick, dehydrated and tremendously weak. I decided that I would make a token attempt on the sketchy climb in the morning (depending how I felt) and that I would fail, head back to the cave, pack up and get the hell out to Wakikama. It seemed like the only option. After some snatched sleep, I made up a diluted Oral Rehydration Solution (ORS) drink, took half a Diamox tablet (a prescription diuretic that prevents and reduces the symptoms of Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS)) and managed to eat some fried noodles. It was now 17:30 and my improving mood was helped further when Wameak explained that they had found the correct path to get on the mountain. Although I still wasn't completely convinced that I could get on the mountain, my black mood was lightening and I resolved to at least try. I had come this far and overcome so many obstacles already to be in this remote and beautiful part of the world and the mountain was right there in front of me. When I checked my emails there were so many messages of support that I knew I couldn't concede defeat just yet. Now, I just had to get on with the part that I had spent over a year preparing for – actually climbing the mountain!
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