Skip to main content

Sundardhunga Khal – The Goddess Keeps her Secret


Sundardhunga Khal – The Goddess Keeps her Secret


George W Rodway and Anindya Mukherjee

The Sundardhunga Khal and our route of attempt in 2015


The History

Locating a practicable route into the Nanda Devi Sanctuary occupied a very respectable amount of exploration time and effort in the latter half of the nineteenth century and first half of the twentieth century. By the time W.W. Graham made spring and autumn journeys to Sikkim and spent the summer in the Kumaun region around Nanda Devi in 1883, a shift had just started towards looking to the Himalaya as a venue for sporting adventure. Graham and the Swiss guides that accompanied him this year planned an ambitious itinerary for their time in Kumaun. They attempted to penetrate, for the first time in recorded history, the Rishiganga gorge with an eye to ascending Nanda Devi. Not surprisingly the difficulty of the gorge, not infiltrated to its source (after many attempts) until 1934, forced them to reconsider the wisdom of this project.



The English physician-explorer T.G. (Tom) Longstaff spent nearly 40 years exploring and climbing in the European Alps, the Caucasus, the Canadian Rockies, High Asia, and the Arctic, and was considered by many to be the leading mountain explorer of his era. Parties that Longstaff led in 1905 and 1907 were the next sojourns that made serious attempts to explore approaches to Nanda Devi. In 1905, Longstaff and company initially explored the Pachhu glacier to its source under the northeast ridge of Nanda Devi East, then crossed into the Lawan valley en route to a camp in the Goriganga valley. In early June, Longstaff and his companions reached a col (19,390 ft) on the Goriganga-Rishiganga watershed, one of the few spots where the wall of high ridges and peaks (exceeding 100 km in circumference) enclosing the Nanda Devi sanctuary dips below 20,000 ft. Here, they were to glimpse Nanda Devi’s south face and the southern glaciers of the Sanctuary while they took an opportunity to briefly reconnoiter the south ridge of Nanda Devi East.

Longstaff returned to the Kumaun/Garhwal region again in 1907 with CG Bruce and AL Mumm, as well as several alpine guides and nine Gurkha soldiers from Bruce’s regiment. Mumm, incidentally, authored the now classic Five months in the Himalaya. A record of mountain travel in Garhwal and Kashmir after this expedition. They choose to first explore the area around the Rishiganga gorge, and deep lingering snow from winter, along with rivers swollen with snow melt, complicated their endeavors. In late May, Longstaff and Bruce accompanied by guides and Gurkhas, crossed the ridge between Dunagiri and Changabang to the Ramani glacier, a feeder to the Rishiganga. Unfortunately for them, incorrect maps failed to show the inner curtain ridge which cut them off from the base of Nanda Devi.

After a hiatus of nearly two decades, attempts to reach the Nanda Devi Sanctuary were once again resumed. In 1926 and 1927, a man who would subsequently lead two large-scale British Everest expeditions in the following decade made two journeys worthy of note into the Nanda Devi region. Hugh Ruttledge, Deputy Commissioner at Almora, was intent on being intimately familiar with every corner of his mountainous district. Howard Somervell (of Everest fame in 1922 and 1924), along with Colonel RC Wilson, accompanied Ruttledge in 1926 on a reconnoiter mission of Nanda Devi’s ring of peaks from the northeast. Their aim was to find a route into the inner Sanctuary from the Bhotia village of Milam. While this team did not have the resources for a protracted struggle, they were able to determine that very close inspection would be required of this geography in order to be able to force a pass over the ring of mountains with laden porters. In 1927, Ruttledge and his wife, along with TG Longstaff, paid another visit to Nanda Devi’s outer defenses. Longstaff had, of course, searched for a weakness in the ramparts barring entry to the inner Sanctuary of Nanda Devi 20 years prior to this venture. In a Geographical Journal article published the following year,1 Longstaff gave Nanda Devi’s formidable defenses full recognition:

The topography of Nanda Devi presents difficulties of access which I believe are unique. The mountain rises from the middle of an almost complete crater-like amphitheater of mountains whose walls are 20,000 ft high, which has neither been crossed nor entered by any human foot. On the east the highest peak rises abruptly from the end of a buttress two miles long and about 23,000 ft in height, which connects it with a separate mountain, Nanda Devi East, 24,379 ft. On all other sides it rises a sheer 10,000 or 12,000 ft from the glaciers which encircle its base. But this central “crater” is only part of another almost complete ring of mountains measuring a full 70 miles in circumference, from the crest of which spring a dozen measured peaks of over 20,000 ft., including Dunagiri on the north, Nanda Devi East, and on the south Trisul and Nanda Ghungti. For 60 miles of this distance there is no known depression below 17,000 ft.

After his retirement from government service in 1932, Hugh Ruttledge again sought to find a workable approach to the inner Sanctuary of Nanda Devi. He returned to this problem with guide Emile Rey of Courmayeur and six Sherpas from Darjeeling. Reaching the head of the Sundardhunga valley near the end of May that year, they studied the southern section of the massive ring-wall around Nanda Devi just east of Maiktoli (22,320 ft). The section where the wall dropped to a saddle, the Sundardhunga Khal (18,100 ft), was of special interest. However, the base of this saddle rose from a deep and steep valley which required further investigation. Ruttledge and his party thus went up the Maiktoli valley to get a closer look[1]:

We were brought up all-standing by a sight which almost took our remaining breath away. Six thousand feet of the steepest rock and ice. Near the top of the wall, for about a mile and a half, runs a terrace of ice some 200 ft. thick. Under the pull of gravity large masses constantly break off from this terrace and thunder down to the valley below, polishing in their fall the successive bands of limestone of which the face is composed. Even supposing the precipice to be climbable, an intelligent mountaineer may be acquitted on a charge of lack of enterprise if he declines to spend at least three days and two nights under fire from this artillery.

And thus vanished the last hope for a straightforward approach to Nanda Devi. As Ruttledge wrote shortly after returning from the 1932 attempt, “the goddess keeps her secret.”

The next notable expedition into this area occurred in 1934, and its accomplishments were extraordinary. A few months after returning from the 1933 British Mt Everest expedition, Eric Shipton, with his old African climbing partner, HW Tilman, took it upon themselves to come to grips with the problem of approaching Nanda Devi’s inner Sanctuary. This was to be a small, lightly party – Shipton, Tilman, and three Sherpa Porters. The main objective of this venture was to be gaining entrance to and the mapping of the Nanda Devi basin inside the Sanctuary, with the hope of also being able to reconnoiter Nanda Devi itself from close quarters. On the advice of Tom Longstaff, Shipton and Tilman directed their attention to the Rishi Gorge approach. They frequently met precipices that looked impassable until a kindly fault in the rock allowed them passage, only to come to yet another barrier.

In a magnificent display of route-finding, the team passed the gorge in early June. Subsequently, nearly a month was spent exploring and mapping the Basin. The magic of that moment is, for sure, hard to appreciate in these days of satellite photos, global position mapping, and with almost every corner of the earth explored. The elegant spire of Nanda Devi rose 13,000 ft above the amphitheater where the two main rivers draining the basin joined. Herds of tame mountain sheep, bharal, grazed the moorland pasture where alpine flowers, wild onions, and rhubarb abounded. 

After surveying the glaciers of the northern basin with the plain-table they had arduously packed in, the explorers withdrew as the monsoon advanced. However, they returned to the Sanctuary in the autumn of 1934 for six weeks in order to complete the surveying and reconnaissance work in the southern half of the basin. Shipton and Tilman had decided to keep the sense of adventure high on this second trip by not retracing their steps back to civilization via the Rishi Gorge, but rather to find an alternate route out of the Sanctuary:

When we had left Joshimath it was with a mighty resolve not to return that way. We had so far burnt our boats as to send our remaining kit back to Ranikhet. We hoped to find a way out of the basin by the col at the foot of the south ridge of East Nanda Devi, on which Dr. Longstaff had stood in 1905 [i.e., Longstaff’s Col]. If we failed to do that we had a second string to our bow at the head of the southern branch of the glacier. In 1932 Mr. Ruttledge had gone up the Maiktoli or Sundardhungha valley with the intention of climbing the surrounding wall at that point and so gaining an entrance to the basin. It had not proved possible from that side, but he had told us to go and have a look at it, and it might prove less formidable from the opposite direction…. We began by walking up the left (true) side of the eastern branch. It was very misty, but we saw enough of what we called 'Longstaff's Col' to decide us to leave it alone. It looked over 19,000 feet, and near the top, where it was very steep, we suspected ice. By now our boots were past their best, two of the Sherpas had no ice-axes, and we should be heavily laden[2].

The team then moved up the southern glacier, soon identifying the col they believed to be the one suggested by Ruttledge (i.e., Sundardhunga Khal). It looked about 18,000 feet and the approach was by an easy snow slope. Prior to exploring this option, Shipton and Tilman decided to reconnoiter the south ridge of Nanda Devi, one of their main objectives of this autumn return to the Sanctuary. After following the ridge to approximately 20,500 ft and concluding “having seen all sides of the mountain we concluded that this offers the only possible route” (later ascended to the summit by Tilman and Noel Odell in 1936), they turned their attention to working out whether Ruttledge’s suspicions about this side of Sundardhunga were correct.  On the 17th September, they camped at the foot of the snow slope leading to the col. The ascent the next day to the top of the col was very straightforward, and only the heat of the day presented difficulties. The descent to the Maiktoli valley, however, was a different story:

After descending a few hundred feet we were stopped by an ice- fall. Dumping our loads we went forward to reconnoitre. On the left was a stone-swept gully, on the right some ice-swept slabs, and in the centre a very difficult ice-fall.

The party decided to return to their loads, set up camp for the night, and consider the route options the following morning. Upon resuming their descent the next day,

In an hour we had reached yesterday's farthest point and were safely past some very unstable seracs. Below we twisted and dodged as before, encountering some steep pitches down which we lowered the loads…. Ahead of us the glacier swept down with a last ice-fall, the steepest of all. On the right were some easy rocks, though separated from us by a 40-foot ice-wall and a gully, the target of debris from the great ice terrace thousands of feet above.

Downward progress was not rapid, and they decided to camp that afternoon some 3,000 feet above the Maiktoli glacier. From their camp they could not see a way down, for the slopes they were on dropped precipitously out of sight. Once they got underway the next morning, the way became steeper and 

We groped our way in a thick mist expecting every moment to be stopped by a precipice. When it cleared a little we sent Ang Tarke on to reconnoitre, and, by a brilliant piece of route-finding, he spotted the only possible line down a place which appeared to us quite hopeless. We reached the level glacier at 2 p.m., close to the foot of an ice-fall, and found a stone shelter used by shepherds.

The wall Ruttledge had declared unreasonably difficult and dangerous to ascend in 1932 had now been descended. Many years would pass until another party attempted to traverse this ground, only this time the intent was to actually ascend the wall to Sundardhunga Khal. 




The Approach
It was end of May, 2015. An overnight train from Howrah had brought Mrinal Ghosh, Dignata Roy Chowdhury, Lakpa Sherpa and Anindya Mukherjee to the oldest train station of Delhi. Their friend George W Rodway had flown into Delhi from the United Sates, the day before. The rendezvous took place just outside the station building. George, Lakpa and Anindya were meeting almost year to the day since their last reunion in Delhi. Memories of Nanda Devi East from 2014 were still fresh in their minds. But the heat and dust of Delhi ensured that the rendezvous remain as unceremonious and quick as possible. After a series of load carries over the flights of stairs of the adjoining platforms and shoulders of countless fellow human beings, another train was boarded.  The train was thankfully air-conditioned and after another 8 hours of shake, rattle and roll, the team was in the relative quiet and cool of Kathgodam. The mosquitoes of the Tourist Rest House however got busy and made sure that we stayed awake all night. The next morning we started a 6 hour long drive to Bageswar.

The team stopped for a day in Bageswar to take care of some last minute shopping, packing and re-packing. Next morning, the team drove to the road head - lock stock and barrel. Ballu, our friend from Jatoli was waiting there for our arrival and within half an hour all our duffels were loaded atop mules and we were ready to hike the first few kilometers of the trip to our shelter for the night. We stopped in a small guest house that overlooked the picturesque village of Khati and decided to spend the night there. Later that afternoon we went for a stroll through the terraced fields of Khati and paid a visit to the nostalgic forest bungalow (built in 1890) there. The heat, the noise, the filth, the stink and the dust of Delhi and Bageswar were suddenly behind us and we felt happy to be back in the mountains. It felt almost unreal, but we knew that such swift, almost magical transition is only possible in India. It is such a land of contrast and contradictions!

Over the next two days, leaving the Pindar river valley to our East, we proceeded northward, spending a night each in Jatoli (2438m) and Kathaliya (3206m). Kathaliya is where Sukhram nala meets Maiktoli nala and out of their confluence emerges the Sundardhunga gad (Garwali/Kumaoni for ‘river’). All along the trail, right from the road head, we noticed scars left on the mountains in form of massive landslides, the legacy of the 2013 Uttarakhand cloudburst. Beyond Kathaliya we followed the narrow Maiktoli river gorge. The river itself was still frozen and offered a gentle, uphill approach to the upper valley of the Burh glacier. As soon as the gradient of the frozen yet cascading river flattened, near an old shepherd camp we settled down for our Base Camp (3600m). The date was 6th June, 2015 and Maiktoli and Panwali Dwar loomed over us like two giant sentinels of the Devi. Their connecting ridge was standing in front of us like an ominous and formidable ‘no’, stating, ‘thus far and no further’. Our eyes however, were all glued to the central part of the ridge that connected those two peaks. We were trying to locate the lowest point on the ridge, the Sundardhunga Khal. Rising almost 2000 m above us, Rutledge’s ‘unreasonably dangerous and difficult’ wall left us awestruck. All we could see were hanging glaciers, icefalls, seracs, jutting cliffs and avalanche chutes. Could we climb it? No one had yet succeeded in doing so.

Base Camp


The Wall
As soon as the first couple of days of awe faded, we busied ourselves by starting to reconnoiter for a feasible line up that wall and acclimatize at the same time. In order to have a clear and direct view across the valley of the ‘wall’ and to find a safe line up it, we set our eyes on the Baljouri col first. We envisioned this ascent as an ideal vantage point for detecting our route up the Sundardhunga Khal, and give us an opportunity to acclimatize in the process.  

Baljouri Col is located on a ridge extending north to south between Panwali Dwar (6663m) and Baljouri Peak (5922m/19430ft). To its East, is Buria glacier and to its west, the Burh glacier. On 8 June, 2015, we followed the semi frozen glacial stream coming from the Burh glacier and soon crossed it and continued up its true left. Soon we met the moraine ridge coming from the direction of Baljouri Col and started going upslope and over old snow. It was not great going on the soft snow. The reason probably was the low altitude and high temperature.

We learnt that it did had snowed quite heavily in this region (30 deaths were reported in Bageswar due to heavy snow in December 2014). But in June 2015 and in this altitude range (3600-4500m) snow conditions were very soft, even in very old snow, due to temperatures. A couple of hours of struggle through the slushy snow and about a 500 m altitude gain brought us to a suitable spot for a camp. We were now right the foot of Baljouri Col and a close look at its approach did not seem encouraging at all. There was fresh avalanche debris right on the obvious climbing line and the prevailing snow conditions were indicating further slab dislocations could occur at any time. So next morning we decided not to try and ascend Baljouri col and dedicated ourselves to scrutinizing the Sundardhunga wall instead.

The wall however presented us with a few interesting revelations. Due to the topography (and being a south face that tends to get more sun in this part of the world) slushy soft snow was not an issue there. What we saw instead was a wall ornamented with rock buttresses and additionally containing series of hanging glaciers near its top. We realized that the wall had much less snow than would have been ideal. Any solid rock looked about the grade of E (and therefore beyond us to consider) and the gullies looked rather thin and lean. We agreed that it would have been nicer to have a bit more snow cover in the gullies linking the ice fields. We were able to identify the possible line of descent of Shipton and Tilman in 1934. It did not take us long to rule out using that line as our line of ascent. The glacier that the duo had descended is now very deteriorated and broken, and  any ascent of this line would have involved tremendous good luck to avoid  getting swept down by a broken serac. So we had an additional task. We had to discover a safe and original line, but we needed a new vantage point.  So we retraced our steps down to base camp and decided to climb the slope directly west of BC in hope that this angle might reveal more of the terrain and give us renewed hope. We were not wrong this time. After climbing a few hundred meters the whole of the Sundardhunga Khal wall opened up before us like a wide canvas and a thin line of interlinked gullies raised our hopes. We now spotted a possible line up the wall and apparently it looked safe from avalanche danger.

ABC


The Attempt

From 10 June to 12 June, 2015, we started working on the wall.  After a couple of days of ferry and further reccee up the face we had an ABC (4100m) ready and occupied, a few hundred meters up the wall itself. It was a safe enough camp overlooking the bending spread of the Burh glacier below. In these 3 days, the mornings were clear. Afternoons had drizzle or some snow. We used this to our advantage and could progress up the gully system and even make a high camp on a ledge after climbing about 500 m above the ABC.  

From 13 June the weather changed. Thunderstorms came and continued for the next couple of days, giving us a proper soaking and a heavy coat of fresh unstable snow on the entire face. 16 June was a clear day again, but by that time the snow on the gully system was completely untrustworthy and we were aware of the heightened chance of slab avalanches with these conditions. We decided to retreat. By 17 June, we were all safely down in base camp.

George tackling vertical grass


Observations

We learnt that seasonal temperatures dictate that anything below 6000 m in the Uttarakhand Himalaya will be too warm for safe or comfortable snow conditions. Our impression is a late autumn attempt (October-November) will ensure firmer snow and more stable weather. We also learnt that it is now unreasonable to ascend the descent line of 1934 due to hanging seracs. We could however find out a possible alternative and safe line of ascent and did actually climb up to 4600mts on the wall itself. We also learnt that it was well within our abilities to climb the south face of the Sundardunga Khal. Perhaps there will be a next time. Until then, the Goddess gets to keep her secret.



Team

Climbing Team: George W Rodway, Lakpa Sherpa, Mingma Sherpa, Anindya Mukherjee.

Base Camp Support: Balbir Singh, Mrinal Ghosh. Trekking Member: Diganta Roy Chowdhury

Duration: May 30, 2015 to June 19, 2015
                                                                                                                                        
 





[1] Nanda Devi, Hugh Ruttledge, Himalayan Journal, Vol-05 1933
[2] Nanda Devi and the Sources of the Ganges. H.W.Tilman, Himalayan Journal, Vol-07, 1935

Popular posts from this blog

Zemu Gap from south: the first documented ascent

view of Kangchenjunga south summit and Talung peaks from Tongshyong glacier. Pic. Anindya Mukherjee Text & Photographs: Anindya Mukherjee Introduction The history of exploration around Kangchenjunga [1] , especially around its south, south east and east flanks; has always fascinated me. The classic journeys and adventures of pioneers [2] like W.W. Graham, John Claude White, Douglas Freshfield, Dr. A.M. Kellas, Harold Raeburn, N.A.Tombazi, Lord John Hunt and Paul Bauer ignited my imagination. The height of inspiration of course came from reading my hero Mr. H.W. Tilman’s account in the Himalayan Journal (vol. IX) on his attempt on Zemu Gap from south in 1936. The primary challenge of climbing Zemu Gap from south has always been its remote & complicated approach. Many failed just to reach the foot of this col. To add to that its apparently impregnable defenses took Zemu Gap to a next level of exploratory climbing. In 1925, Greek photographer N.A.Tombazi is sai

TREK AROUND THE MAYEL LYANG- April 2022

  TREK AROUND THE MAYEL LYANG- NOVEMBER AND DECEMBER 2021 THE HIDDEN LAND OF MYTHICAL PARADISE OF THE LEPCHA PEOPLE IN NORTH SIKKIM   Trip Highlight:   Culture, Jungle trek, Monasteries, Himalayan Lake, Off the Beaten Path  Approaching the Kishong Lake MAYEL LYANG: IT’S MEANING AND WHAT IT IS ALL ABOUT ‘Mayel Lyang’ is a Lepcha term that literally means “mythical paradise” or “hidden paradise”. It is also referred to as ‘Ancient Sikkim’ by the Lepcha. They believe their immortal ancestors still live in the snows of Kangchenjunga, hidden. Here Ma (‘Maa)’ means hidden, ‘yel’ means eternal and ‘kyong’/Lyang means a village in Lepcha; therefore, ‘Maayel Kyong’ literally means a ‘hidden and eternal Lepcha Village’. Lepchas believe that seven immortal Lepcha couples live in Mayel Lyang. It is a paradise on earth. It is believed by the Lepchas that ‘Maayel Kyong’ is situated at the head of Dzongu. The Lepcha offer their prayers, ovations and salutations to Maayel Ky