The Ascent of Haba Snow Mountain

By+LAO+HU

IN 1995， a group of Chinese mountaineers reached the summit of Haba Snow Mountain， 5，396 meters above sea level， making it the highest snow peak in Yunnan Province to be conquered by humans. The mountain， in the eyes of professional mountaineers， is “entry level.” However， to amateurs， it is a game for the brave.

At 10 a.m. on October 5， 2013， I， along with 17 teammates and a group coordinator， reached the top of Haba. Standing next to the altitude mark， I texted “I made it！” to my family. The message was simple but we all knew it was hard earned.

Haba Village

Haba Snow Mountain is located in the southeast of Shangri-La County， 120 kilometers from the county center. In the language of the Naxi ethnic group， Haba means flowers of gold. The high altitude forms a typical alpine climate on the mountain that contains several climate zones， including a subtropical zone， a temperate zone， a cool temperature one and a frigid one. The range of temperatures from foot to summit typically covers 22.8 oC.

On October 1， my team of 19， including five women， gathered in Lijiang of Yunnan Province. My oldest teammate was 60. We arrived at Haba Village the next day. Situated at 2，600 meters above sea level， the small village is home to different ethnic groups： Tibetan， Yi， Naxi and Hui to name a few. The village is directly accessible by newlybuilt roads and costs in this area are relatively low， so Haba Snow Mountain is not only preferred by amateur climbers， but also chosen by professional teams as a training base.

Guesthouses and mountaineering clubs offering basic services can be found in the village. People seldom suffer from altitude sickness here， making the village an ideal place for pre-training.

Our team leader taught us how to knot ropes and use crampons and ice axes. On a hillside next to the village， we practiced emergency manage- ment skills for hours. It was the National Day holiday and all the guesthouses were full of climbers. As there were not enough rooms at our guesthouse， some of our team members decided to sleep in tents in the courtyard in preparation for the coming challenge.

Journey to the Base

On October 3， we got up at 5 a.m. and prepared to set off. A light rain had fallen the night before and we were quite worried because a successful ascent would largely depend on good weather. Luckily， we awoke to a clear sky， the clouds above the mountain lit by the suns glow. The blue sky was not only beautiful， but a welcome sight.

At 8：30 a.m.， we started our journey to the base camp of the mountain， 15 kilometers away from the village. It could take six to seven hours to reach an altitude of 4，080 meters from where we stood at 2，650 meters above sea level.

After one hour， however， the weather turned and it drizzled now and then. This area had seen rain in the days prior to our arrival and mud pools and puddles made it diffi cult to ascend.

The fi rst phase of a climb is always the hardest. The team soon felt exhausted and some were on the verge of giving up since they had not adjusted well to the natural environment. Although Im an experienced hiker， I， too， felt tired. Increasingly more people lagged behind and members at the front had to stop often to wait for the stragglers to catch up.

Having reached the halfway point， we came across a hut on the hillside. It turned out to be a rest area that supplied hot water and food. We stopped for a short break. It was a rest area for traveling merchants as well. They looked bored， presumably because they were already familiar with the route， and chain-smoked cigarettes.

Bolstered by the food and the pit stop， we felt much better as we continued our journey. The whole team moved faster than we had in the morning. Though the rain came down again， it did not deter us； we were sheltered beneath our waterproof jackets.

Hours later， on hearing horses whinnying and peoples voices， we knew we had arrived at the base camp of Haba Snow Mountain. At 4，118 meters above sea level， this area is desolate and uninhabited except for two rows of one-story houses with blue roofs. The water supplying the base comes from a small lake nearby.

The base was cold and damp， but lively and bustling， the rooms crowded with international mountaineers， tour guides， local coordinators and caravans. The walls were adorned with flags and memorial plates of numerous mountaineering clubs left by previous climbers， as well as graffi ti scrawled by climbers from all over the world. Unfortunately， altitude sickness set in and some people suffered headaches， dizziness and nausea.

Climbing up the Grand Slate

When I first saw the Grand Slate， a huge expanse of smooth rock， I could not imagine how we could ever overcome it if it froze. Fortunately， neither the rain was heavy nor the ground frozen. Still， we had to walk slowly and carefully. But for the team members who were less experienced in highland hiking， the steep slope was a challenge and they lagged behind.

We reached a small terrace and found that the Grand Slate continued further upward. The mountaintop was out of sight since it was covered by fog. The bad weather implied a daunting challenge for the next days ascent.

A gravel path came after the Grand Slate. We had reached 4，500 meters above sea level， the altitude of the snow line. A light dusting of snow covered the ground. The temperature here was much lower and the rain continued to fall. My hands were frozen with cold.

Stones sometimes fell as we climbed the path and the wind roared and whipped about our faces. We had to lower our heads and climb only inches at a time. The fog was turning increasingly thick. We came across a number of climbers who had turned back before making it to the top due to the harsh wind. On hearing that they were nearly blown away at the height of 5，000 meters， we became even more worried about the success of our climb.

A Stormy Night

At 3 a.m. on October 4， some teams got up and gathered to set off for Campsite C1 to reach the peak directly from there. Considering the difficulty， our team planned to hike to Campsite C1， stay there overnight and climb to the top the next day. We got more sleep and set off at 9 a.m.

Campsite C1 is about six kilometers away from the base – not a long distance， but the altitude rises sharply from 4，080 meters to over 4，960 meters in that stretch. Moreover， the ground was wet due to the light snow.

Half an hour later， we reached a hilltop and stopped to rest because the last part had taken so much energy. Suddenly， a huge rainbow appeared. We were so delighted by the sight that we almost forgot how tired we were. Everyone was busy taking photos. Under the rainbow， the blue roofs of the base camp seemed small and far away.

As we arrived at Campsite C1， the sun came out， the snow stopped falling and the wind died down. We could see a clear blue sky in the distance. Campsite C1 is at an altitude of 4，967 meters and on a ground of gravel and rocks. By 2 p.m.， all our team members had arrived at the campsite and we began to put up our tents. There was only one small， level area for us to pitch camp， but it was not sheltered and the gravel ground was not suitable for tent pegs.

To add to our difficulties， the wind was rising. We stamped on the pegs until they bent but the tents could still not be secured. We had no other choice but to lay big rocks on the corners of the tents. Under the circumstances， carrying rocks was no easy feat. The frozen air made it painful to take off our gloves and expose our hands， and at high altitude people easily become exhausted when exerting themselves. Every time we carried a rock， we were out of breath after setting it down and had to pause to recover.

As soon as all the tents were erected， we immediately went inside them and lay down. From that point， no one ventured out of the tents except to collect snow to boil water or relieve themselves. The snow and wind continued the whole night. I hardly slept. Several times， I feared my tent would be blown away.

Big Moment

The next morning we got up at 4 a.m. and prepared for the big day. We boiled water to make instant noodles for breakfast and filled our thermos bottles.

The team was divided into four groups and set off at 5 a.m. one after another. The tents remained at the campsite so we could leave our belongings there but we all took our jackets， some food and cameras. We wore quick-dry clothing， fleeces， down coats and waterproof jackets to keep as warm as possible. We were also equipped with waterproof gloves， crampons， safety belts and helmets， but whether our big moment would come remained unknown.

A while after the first group had left， we could see their lights gleaming on the hillside in the distance. My group set off later. We first had to descend from the campsite before starting the climb to the sum- mit. It felt like we had walked for a long time but in fact it was no more than half an hour before we stopped for another rest.

There was no place to shelter from the wind， so everyone was squatting on the ground with his or her back to the wind. In the blizzard， I noticed two of my team members effectively turning into snowmen. When I reached for my camera from my backpack， I noticed that my bag was entirely frozen like a huge ice pop. My jacket was iced over too. The outside temperature was well below zero.

About one kilometer away from Campsite C1 is the Desperate Slope， which is the last resting post before the final stretch to the top. Near the slope， we caught up with the fi rst group who had set off. We regrouped according to our stamina， five people per group， and the coordinator took the lead. I was in the second group. The altitude difference from Campsite C1 to the mountaintop is 429 meters. That doesnt sound like a daunting fi gure， but conquering it was unimaginably painful. At fi rst， we took a short break every 30 steps， later， every 15 steps， such was the stress our bodies were under.

The distance from the Desperate Slope to the summit is just 960 meters， but every step we took was hard work. I could not keep up with my group， so I dropped behind and found a safety rope to slowly continue at my own pace. For the rest of the time， I slogged at the rear of my group and tried my best to keep pace. But before long my group overtook the fi rst group， and left others behind.

The Desperate Slope deserves its name； when you climb one small slope， you think you have reached the top， only to find another steep climb ahead of you and no sign of the summit. I heard the coordinator warning the team not to stay still for too long and continue climbing.

It is said that the most dangerous thing in mountaineering is to fall asleep. I always wondered how anyone could fall asleep in such cold weather. But on this trek， I fully understood. As the altitude increases， the air becomes thin. People suffer severe oxygen defi cit and feel weary with every step. If you are stationary for too long， you feel drained and dozy， which makes it easy to lose consciousness. With the coordinators caution in mind， the team pressed forward.

A ray of sunshine appeared through the snow. I stomped a pit with my feet on a small platform to have a rest. Then， I saw one of my teammates turning back， she could not go on. She started to descend with the help of our coordinator and we all felt very sorry for her. In fact， I felt like giving up， too， several times. But when I saw three of our team members approaching the top， I encouraged myself to keep going.

After the Desperate Slope comes the reward of the beautiful Moon Bay. To the left there are bold cliffs， and the highest part of the Bay indicates the summit of Haba Snow Mountain. I cannot remem- ber how long it took me to reach Moon Bay but when I looked down， my teammates resembled tiny ants moving slowly.

The summit is very unassuming. If not for the wooden pole marked “5，396 meters” we wouldnt have realized we had reached the peak. The blizzard was so fierce， the flag on the pole was frozen and the letters on it were blurred.

The fi rst thing I did on reaching the summit was to ask one of my teammates to take my picture. Then I sent that short text message to my family. The temperature at the top was so low （about -15oC to -10oC） we were not able to stay there long. In the end， 18 of our 19 team members conquered the summit.

In all， we had covered a distance of about 20 kilometers from Haba Village to the summit. We started our descent the same day. On our way back， the sun shone， making the mountains look magnifi -cent in the cloud and mist. Among the worlds great peaks， Haba Snow Mountain is just a drop in the ocean. Likewise， this adventure was just one stop in my life journey. Many destinations await me.

Tips：

1. Season： Affected by monsoon， the winds around Haba Snow Mountain can

reach eight on the Beaufort scale from the end of December to the end of January. The rainy season lasts from June to August. These seasons are not suitable for climbing. The best time to visit Haba Snow Mountain is from mid-September to mid-November or from mid-February to May.

2. Transport： Visitors or climbers can take a shuttle bus to Haba Village from

Lijiang or Shangri-La. It takes about fi ve hours. The route from Lijiang to Haba Village passes by Tiger Leaping Gorge， a famous canyon on the upstream of the Jinsha River that is known for its magnifi cent scenery.

3. Safety： Anyone looking to climb the mountain is strongly advised to hire a

professional guide or coordinator.

4. Equipment： In addition to general outdoor kit， it is advised to take crampons， ice axes， snow goggles， sunblock （above SFP 40）， thermos bottles and alpenstocks （two）； a helmet and safety ropes are optional.