The world’s highest trek
Mera Peak, Nepal. 6476m high. Could you?
Nepal’s Mera Peak is widely known as the highest trekking peak on the planet – 6476m of snow, ice and rock located right in the mountainous heart of the Himalayas. But exactly how hard is that ‘trek’, and is the summit within reach for any British hillwalker? An expedition to the mountain by the British Army in spring 2019 found the answers we’ve been looking for…
Historically, the British Army has been involved in expeditions all over the world – from team members on Captain Scott’s crossings of the Antarctic in the early 1900s, to the first ascent by Hillary and Tenzing of Everest in 1953, through to more recently the Ice Maidens’ first allfemale crossing of the South Pole. There are opportunities for everyone. So when I was asked to organise an expedition, I jumped at the chance and settled (after much deliberation) on Mera Peak (6476m) in the remote Hinku Valley of Nepal.
I’m lucky to work for an employer who values mountaineering and the experiences that come with it. The British Army has conducted Adventurous Training as a means of developing leadership and coping strategies for over 100 years. Putting soldiers in controlled, stressful and demanding situations away from conflict develops the skills they need on the battlefield.
While I have an extensive background in climbing and walking in the UK and Europe, this would be my first trip to the Greater Ranges, and I’d also be leading a team of 10 soldiers! Mera Peak was first climbed in the golden era of the 1950s by Colonel Jimmy Roberts and is one of the most popular routes in the Himalayas, due to being the highest ‘trekking’ peak in Nepal. I chose Mera Peak as I wanted to take novice military hillwalkers and give them the opportunity to do something extraordinary. As the sole planner for the expedition, my organisational skills were pushed to the limit and the age-old adage of ‘amateurs talk tactics; professionals talk logistics’ from my days at Sandhurst certainly rang true.
Unsurprisingly, I was inundated with applicants for the team, but once we’d selected the 10 members we began the challenge of training them up. Our UK training consisted of a skills week in north Wales covering disciplines such as navigation, ropework and equipment, followed by a winter skills week in Scotland focusing on the use of ice axes, crampons and movement across frozen terrain.
Finally, we completed a remote emergency care course which covered acute mountain sickness (altitude-related illnesses), advanced trauma and procedures for dealing with casualties. With the skills the team have learnt over the last year of training, most of them are now booking onto Mountain Leader courses to become instructors themselves.
Arriving in Kathmandu was a culture shock. The constant noise, smells and sights bombard the senses and leave you a little overwhelmed. It’s hard to believe people live in this hub. Kathmandu is the fifth most polluted city in the world and the sheer volume of waste and rubbish was staggering. Our forward-thinking Sherpa asked us to carry all our rubbish out with us (within reason) and I was glad I took rechargeable batteries and bars of soap rather than anything disposable. For outdoor enthusiasts, Kathmandu can only be tolerated for a short time before the call of the mountains becomes too strong and you yearn for those open places.
It was with relief that we started our route at Phaplu, a remote airstrip carved out of the forested mountainside. Landing here is an experience in itself – the runway is a little over 300m long yet feels like landing on a matchbox with a sheer drop at the end. Peering out of the window at the steep drops either side was utterly terrifying. The village of Phaplu isn’t on any of the established trekking routes and as such is growing in popularity for people wanting to sample a true slice of regional Nepal away from the tourist traps of Lukla and Everest Base Camp.
The first six days of the trek took us through the forested region and provided some of the richest experiences. Meeting locals who view tourists as a novelty rather than the norm was a refreshing change after the chaos of Kathmandu. The trails leading up to the arid mountain region were genuinely some of the best I’ve ever walked. The route is predominately narrow, yet interesting pathways leading to precarious positions, twinned with tantalising glimpses of snow-capped mountains through the foliage, keep your excitement levels high. One of the many highlights is the 250m-long rope bridge over the Dudh Kosi river (the latter being a must for any serious kayaker, apparently). This rope bridge leads you into a part of the national park that houses the endangered red panda.
The equipment we had with us was as multi-functional as possible. Base layers worked well on their own during the high-intensity trekking phase where the humidity left most of us soaked with sweat, but also formed a vital piece of a layering system in colder temperatures. We carried most of our equipment ourselves, so keeping weight to a minimum was vital.
Finding items of clothing that don’t smell after a few days use is definitely worth investigating before you go. All of the equipment was packed into a 40L rucksack, while our bulky sleeping systems were compressed and taken by porters. Among the most vital pieces of kit were our solar chargers, needed for satellite phones, cameras, radios and other electronics required to make the expedition successful.
Three days after leaving the forest, the team reached Mera Peak Base Camp at the village of Khare at 5050m above sea-level. Here we had to change our mindsets from trekking mode into climbing mode. While in Khare we changed boots and clothes, and dug out our harnesses and mountaineering equipment before continuing the journey.
This staging post is higher than Mont Blanc in the European Alps and is one gruelling day away from the glacier and high camp. With only 50% oxygen and a few days of fatigue behind us, this was the most physically demanding day we experienced. Crossing moraine fields on our way to the glacier needed maximum concentration, and consequently everyone felt drained when we reached high camp at 5900m.
“I WANTED TO GIVE NOVICE HILLWALKERS THE OPPORTUNITY TO DO SOMETHING EXTRAORDINARY”
This precarious camp is perched on a rock face with tent platforms built out of fallen rocks. The view from the overnight stop isn’t to be missed. On one side, a valley falls steeply away at your feet, and on the other, the mighty pyramid peak of Makalu – one of the world’s 8000m giants – dominates the horizon. Being handed a cup of sweet tea and sharing the view of this perfect piece of the Earth with one of my good friends will stay with me forever.
The plan for our summit bid was a 1am start, then to get back down to Khare in a day. The climb can take anywhere between three and eight hours depending on conditions and involves a long, hard but technically easy slog over snowfields and glaciers, with a final steep snow slope of around 45-50° on fixed lines before the summit.
Unfortunately I can’t tell you from personal experience what Mera Peak summit was like. A team member started to display symptoms of hypothermia and acute mountain sickness at 6200m. Despite being so close to the top, putting his life in danger would have been nothing short of reckless. Thankfully, the other half of our team were successful. They described the elation of summiting and witnessing the most flawless view of Everest as a momentous lifetime achievement.
The expedition had tested everyone’s physical fitness, mental resolve and commitment while also pushing my team management skills to the limit, but my feelings that day were bittersweet. The triumph of leading the team that achieved their goal left me feeling proud and accomplished, yet I couldn’t help but feel disappointed on a personal level. It isn’t uncommon to fail to summit Mera Peak though – indeed, the Nepal Mountaineering Association, which issues climbing permits, states that only 22% of those issued a permit do reach the top due to the effects of altitude and extreme weather. The Nepalese government describing it as a trekking peak is a stretch of the imagination. During the ascent, we were roped up for all of our time on the glacier and we utilised all the movement skills on snow and ice that we’d perfected back in the UK.
If I’d considered the flight to Phaplu to be quite hairraising, it was nothing compared to the short hop from the Tenzing-Hillary Airport in Lukla to the capital. This airport is infamous for its runway: the strip of tarmac starts on top of an incline and runs a short 100m off a cliff edge. The hope is that, with the slope, the aircraft gathers enough speed to keep going once it goes over the edge. In March this year, three tourists died when their aircraft crashed on landing, and the wreckage has just been pushed to the side of the airfield. Not something that fills a nervous air passenger with confidence!
When I returned to Kathmandu and popped the metal cap off a bottle of well-earned Ghorkabeer, I had time to reflect on one of the biggest mountain experiences of my life so far. Having adventures and challenging experiences is part of being a soldier and is core to our business. Mountaineering in Nepal is extreme. The altitude, environment, situations encountered and weather are far more complex and dangerous than anything we’re used to in the UK, yet it’s an experience that will remain with me for the rest of my life. Mera Peak is an achievable objective for all – if you don’t underestimate the mountain, because of its status as ‘just a trekking peak’.
“DESCRIBING THIS AS A TREKKING PEAK IS A STRETCH OF THE IMAGINATION”