Mark Newcomb Climbs Sepu Kangri, Bags Another First Ascent
Tibet’s 22,821-foot Sepu Kangri was first opened to climbers in the 1990s. Two unsuccessful summit bids were led by Sir Christian Bonington in 1997 and 1998. In October 2002, local climber Mark Newcomb and his teammate Carlos Buhler achieved the first ascent.
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Photo: Mark Newcomb "Carlos and I are alone, making good progress in bitter cold beneath a clear sky." |
From www.marmot.com, selections written by expedition leader Mark Newcomb:
Intro—The Sepu Kangri expedition is not just about climbing and skiing a remote and unclimbed Tibetan summit. Sepu is crucial to who we are. Each of us feels truly alive through our interaction with the alpine world and our unquenchable thirst for steep terrain, clear air, crisp snow, and the lonely sound of wind.
September 15—Sepu base camp is 4,751 meters above sea level, or 15,600 feet—high enough for everyone to feel it. Frank, Carina, and Kate have never been to that altitude, discounting a pass we drove over. The locals believe the castle housing the gods and goddesses that live in the mountains is below the waters of the lake (at base camp), which Ace unfortunately pissed in this morning. Now that we’ve angered the local deities, who knows how badly things might go for us on the mountain.
September 23—Today the weather is good, and we’re resting. People need the rest, but it feels like we’re wasting a valuable opportunity to be establishing Camp Two. Oh well. Most of us have gotten laundry done and taken a bath. We’re in a race against time on Sepu. We can’t wait until the last minute on this peak.
September 26—Awoke this morning (after a heavy night of sleep) to a couple inches of heavy wet snow… again. My mood is plummeting. We’ve been nurturing the hope of somehow getting up Sepu early. But the weather just gets worse and worse. We’ll be lucky to get it done by October 18. We’ve got to hang in there and give it our best shot.
September 27—It’s easy to animate the mountain and give it a life of its own—a power and a living spirit—as the locals have. But it’s harder to decide whether Sepu is an angry and vindictive god, a light-hearted jokester that’s toying with us, or a hapless, old god banished to some corner of Tibet and subject to the vagaries of the jet stream.
October 1—Despite thick clouds and snow showers, I don’t think there is an avalanche threat. Besides, I am tired of waiting. I have let expeditions slip by before, waiting day after day for perfect weather, only to find that all too soon I am trekking toward home, grimly wondering if I should have at least tried.
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Photo: Ace Kvale
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For a valid summit attempt it is important to get plenty of fluids and have space to keep things like boot liners and mittens warm. Whatever rest can be garnered at high elevation is also important. The last thing to do was set the alarm on my watch and go through the various scenarios for the next day. It didn’t seem real—that after almost a year of planning, the day of the summit attempt was finally a brief night’s sleep away. Would we successfully summit?
From Powder magazine:
(On the morning of October 2) Carlos and I are alone, making good progress in bitter cold beneath a clear sky. The high alpine air is restless. We are climbing through tremendous mounds of avalanche rubble. At 8:30 a.m. we pass Muir and Saunders’ high point (the British climbers in 1998). We are standing under a wall of ice that caps the summit. A decision must be made. To go on would mean risking a descent in terrible conditions. If we turn back, we can still get down and out of the storm.
The sun slides above the horizon, casting Sepu’s pyramidal shadow onto a towering, pink nimbus. To the west, dark thunderclouds roll northward, flicking tongues of lightning like gargantuan fireflies. The scene is ominous. As we ascend, the cloud becomes a lenticular and reaches toward us. Soon, we are engulfed.
Through the fog we can barely make out the edge of a huge serac. It leads to the sheer 5,000-vertical-foot northern face. We’ve made the summit. We stand for a second, then turn around and begin threading our way down through the whiteout.
We came all the way down to Camp One yesterday in ferocious weather. I was pretty tired skiing, with three intense days behind me since going up from Camp One. Last evening I had that “few-times-in-a-lifetime” pleasure of satisfaction over completing a job I’d set out to do. It isn’t winning the Tour de France, but it’s probably my highest first ascent.
Newcomb’s account of the expedition appeared in Powder magazine last spring. The Marmot website, linked to climbsepu.com, still exhibits the complete collection of dispatches written by team members and photographed by Ace Kvale.—JH SKIER
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