Now, when I remember summer expedition to Pakistan, many petty details have been removed from my memory. Only bright impressions rest in the head. Probably, only they are worthy of being transferred to paper&hellip Thus, bright impressions&hellip

Preparations

- Can you go to Pakistan from the 15 th of June to the 1 st of August? I heard the voice of my friend-alpinist in a telephone receiver and thoughts in my head changed each other with kaleidoscopic speed. Can I? it seemed, I could. Do I want? Oh, damn, the answer is obvious! That way I became the participant of the expedition to Shipton Spire. Later there appeared changes of the dates and membership of the expedition, and vagueness with airplane tickets and visas and not feeble weight of the luggage (80 extra kg one kilogram cost 33 euro!) &hellip But we didn&rsquot give up our idea. And we won. On the 24 th of June we landed in Islamabad.

In Islamabad. .

On the journey.

The most powerful impression that I got when we moved from Islamabad to the region of the ascent was extension and scale. Imagine a narrow canyon, the depth of which is more than a kilometers. Imagine a mountain river with waves of not less than 5 meters high that can crumble every tourist&hellip Imagine a road that is not built, but is cut along that river, sometimes goes below concrete cornices, twisting all the time. But it is not the end&hellip The last stroke: imagine, that the river is the Indus, that slope to the right is Himalayan and slope to the left is Karakorum, that the road was made in the time of dynasty of Great Mongols and that you travel there for the second day. Have you imagined? now you can think that you have been to Karakorum Highway. What I try to understand now is the way how they ride there in winter, when everything is covered with ice and snow&hellip I try but I can not&hellip

Mountain road

In the Pakistan they like to beautify lorries. Such a tuning can cost up to 1000$

By the way we passed the Nanga-Parbat&hellip

The second according to its power impression was inconceivable heat. Central Asia can rest! I had never felt anything like that&hellip For example, when we arrived in the evening to the hotel in a roadside town Chilas and got to the bathroom craving for a cold shower, we found that from both of the taps hot waters flew. At the same time the temperature of the air if the room dun of sauna. If I add that ventilator and air-conditioner didn&rsquot operate because of missing in electricity, and air outdoors was hotter that in the room, it will become clear why I didn&rsquot manage to fell asleep that night.

And the last Pakistan kitchen. Amount of pepper, contained in average local dish can yield only to the local heat for its insufferableness. God be praised, we didn&rsquot want to eat when the weather was so hot! Minus multiplied by minus gave plus&hellip

Scardu the capital of Baltistan. There we took jeeps. .

High-mountain fields.

Trekking to the Base cam: porters carry our luggage. All on all we had 33 porters! And each one take 20$ per one working day. Thus, three day long march cost 2000$...

Base camp

 For two days we traveled by bus, a day by jeep, three days by feet and at last I saw IT! The wall of Shipton Spire it doesn&rsquot simply impress, it hypnotize. Its perfect shape in a moment made me forget everything I saw during the previous days, including the towers of Trango, staying in three kilometers lower along the glacier. I felt I became a zombie I was simply obliged to climb to that mountain. I remember, I was so impressed by the view that didn&rsquot notice how came to the Base camp.

Shipton Spire: view from the Base Camp.

Shipton Spire: view from the glacier.

Base camp Shipton Spire is located on a magnificent green meadow in the pocket of moraine. The meadow is lifted rather high above the glacier, so from the camp a wonderful view to Shipton. Ule-Biakhu, Cat&rsquos Hears (all of these are surrounding peaks) is seen. The upper part of the tower Trango Great is also seen from the meadow.

Cat&rsquos Hears

Ule-Biakhu

But there is one more mountain that, it seems, will come to my dreams it is Masherbrum. The massive of Masherbrum is so great that, I won&rsquot even try to fit epithets to it. Look at the photo.

Masherbrum.

The Base Camp against a background of Masherbrum.

In the Base Camp: horse fight.

We spend so much time in the Base camp that now I remember it with caress. There a nice team gathered: Japanese, Sweden, Spaniards, Americans. And, certainly, Pakistanis, that formed maintenance staff of expeditions, were sweetheart persons. Suddenly we felt reciprocal resemblance of mentality how?... They were very frank and easy to communicate. We played sport and other games with them and simply idled.

Generally speaking, our life in the base camp was rather comfortable: we had two cookers, fresh meet and fruits, electricity (benzene generator), satellite phone and internet. In the evenings we organized cinema shows. The absolute hit became the film &ldquoNevaliashka&rdquo just now I laugh when remember it&hellip

My story about the base camp would become incomplete, if I don&rsquot tell about the thing that was the main adornment for us it was Lena Dmitrenko, our personal journalist and observer. It seems to me now that without her cheerfulness, thin humor and tender careful hands our expedition would be sad. When we were waiting on the wall for a good weather, we soaked up her voice with delight, understanding that girls exist not only in our imagination! We could give everything for it&hellip

Work

Nilov Below the wall.

- Dangerous bog suck me in and my life has become an eternal game!.. I sang to myself sitting on a board on a hanging station, in order to became a little bit more cheerful and to while away the time, when Sergey Nilov, whom I belayed, climbed the next rope. Rather picturesque views that were seen from my board and that inspired me in the beginning, after hour and a half of motionless sitting made me bored. Moreover, the sun had already set disappeared beyond the horizon and small snow began to fall down, and that time it began seemed to me that giant tower-finger Trango Nameless, that was very well seen from that station, was an indecent sign shown to me by Nature. My education didn&rsquot allow me to return Nature its sign, so I could only bashfully my eyes, slightly dangling by legs. Downwards, it about 200 meters I saw light rectangles our portaledges. It was seen clearly that they were not protected the cornices which we planned to defend us, appeared to be optical illusion. I remembered that about 5 hours ago I threw a stone straight to the portaledge. According to violent foul language of Korol, I understood that he didn&rsquot suffer. How was he that time? I wanted to believe that he was sewing up the hole in the tent and I especially want to believe that he would finish it by my turning back to the portaledge.

Nilov on the wall.

&ldquoAttention! Falling down is possible!&rdquo Sergey&rsquos voice, that reached my ears, was imperturbable as usual. &ldquoFalling let it be&rdquo I thought, apathetically giving him one more meter of the rope. Alpinism&hellip

Bad weather

- And I am going to sit the cabriolet!.. Korol and I sang cheerfully, creeping out from the tent on the portaledge. We had a portaledge of BD with the tent Simple Fly that didn&rsquot had windows or dour, or bottom, so, if you wanted to get to the tent or to went out from it, it was necessary to pull up the tent like girl&rsquos skirt. That why we named our portaledge &ldquocabriolet&rdquo. I must say that construction was rather comfortable opening the portaledge we put our bodies under morning Karakorum sun rays, imagining we were on the beach. What a pity half of the sky was covered by clouds. And it was at 6 o&rsquoclock! Having let our sleeping bags becoming dry, we drank tea and understood that weather was changing&hellip Several minutes later the sun disappeared in the clouds and it started raining. Rain was changed by snow&hellip

Cabriolet

It was raining and snowing without any stops. It is difficult to imagine what you feel when you have to spend three days in the tent, leaving it only for doing necessary things.

Bad weather: such it was seen from our camp on the wall .

 Thus, we had three days of bad weather&hellip We heard all the music, that we had with us. We discussed all the themes from private life to theological aspects of thermodynamics. We drank almost all the cognac we had. And then it became clear: the weather could never become better. But we couldn&rsquot deny the ascent. So, a feeling appeared that if we want to climb somewhere, we had to work in spite of the weather. And at the moment the weather wavered, becoming afraid of our unbelievable heroism and determination. And it began to go right&hellip The next day Sergey and Den, in spite of growing weak snow, climbed for two and a half ropes and, when they descended, they announced passage. Ice broke up!

Bowstring is stretched.

There it was, that long-awaited moment: Den, having just descended, announced that the next day we would begin the storm. We had a plan: to wake up at 12.00, set off at 03.00, and further struggling up to the end. I felt myself like a bullet, ready to fly from the barrel. We needed that summit. There couldn&rsquot be any misfire.

For many days the weather went on being changeable. Our provision came almost to the end, so we had no time to spend it on the wall. We couldn&rsquot lose time, so we worked in two shifts. Korol and I started climbing at 5 o&rsquoclock in the morning, by 12 o&rsquoclock we had hung one full rope. Den and Sergey came to us and hang 2 more ropes. As a result we had hung three full ropes a day it was an absolute record for the wall part of the ascent! The last station was made on the apical edge. The top was a stone threw!

I was lying, thinking about the fact that the dream of idle seemed to come true. It was difficult for me to keep excitement, my heart was beating quickly. There were no doubts that we would pass the edge, provided that the weather would be normal. And what would we do then? What should I feel staying on the top? Thoughts about the meaning of life on the whole and about the meaning of alpinism in particular prevented me from sleeping. Finally, in the struggle between different philosophic ideas existentialism won I convince myself of the fact that the next day ascent would be a nice walk among aesthetically perfect high-mountain landscapes. What is the meaning? Simple enjoying the life. Moreover, if would be lucky, the next day we would see the K2. So, when I invented suck a decision, I got enough power to fall asleep.

On the apical edge..

Storm.

- Pockemon, be quicker! Den shouted to me from downwards. Easier said than done! The time was 5 o&rsquoclock a.m., elevation 5500 m, I was ascending with the help of ascender along the 7 th rope one after another. What a nice stroll! My toes began to get cold&hellip But at that moment sun rise came to help me. When I came to the last station it had become lightly. Toes get warmer.

Sergey passed the apical rise..

Nilov came and at the moment climbed further. The relief there became easier and he moved quickly. We followed him, rope by rope. Time passed imperceptibly. People&rsquos tracks on the edge warm up the sole here we found a loop, there a bolt. The edge became slightly-sloping and of the third grade of difficulty. And then I came to the station from which the apical tower was seen. It is the top, isn&rsquot it? I couldn&rsquot believe in it. Is there any dirty trick?.. &ldquoBe careful at the station&rdquo said Den to me and I saw that the loop was lying on an unreliable jut ant Den held it by his leg. Well, the leg is not the worst belay. But in any case I tried not to move once more. Then Nilov again showed miracles with climbing using self-made points of rest. A wall of about 75 degrees steep led to the apical tower. It was straight in front of our eyes. Nilov climbed so quickly that it seemed that he move by free-climbing. He should take part in shows! Like having read my thoughts Korol said about free show. I remind him of how much we had paid for that show. And by the way Sergey had passed the wall. Scumbag!

Victory!!!!!!!

One more hour of climbing and we appeared on the top. The top was a patch of about 1.5*1.5 square meters. With difficulties three of us managed to stay there and the fourth couldn&rsquot fit in there. I must notice, that we couldn&rsquot find any point for belay on the top, so we had to hammer in the last bolt. And, may that mean we were the first who reached the top? Rejoice, the country! the top of Shipton Spire is beautified with the bolt with proud legend &ldquoUral-Alp&rdquo!

Thus, what do I feel on the top? As usual I think that we should quickly start descending as the weather is going to become bad. It is harsh reality of alpinistic life&hellip View of surrounding summits? They could be more beautiful&hellip But, on the other hand, Broad-Peak and Gasherbrum are seen and something like K2 looks out from the neighboring range. But on the whole mountains are mountains, like everywhere&hellip Have I never seen mountains before? Thus, we ate the chocolate up to the end and went down.

View to the massif of Trango from the top. From the left to the right: Trango Nameless, Trango Great, Trango Small. In the background Broad Peak and (it seemed) Gasherbrum are seen.

Crumbling.

- Fellows, jigger! I shouted. In about 300 meters above me, like a flash of fireworks, a cloud of ice splashes, shining in the sun rays, opened. Ice was not stones, moreover, 300 meters was rather long distance, so we had about three seconds to find cover. I jumped to the station, and hanging on it, with ecstasy of lover snuggled up to the wall, trying cover my head under a very small jut. A second later I heard rather convincing blows, that were heard from everywhere. One more second and silent came. I stood up, shale off the ice crumb from the shoulder and looked around. All the ledge was covered with head-size pieces of ice. In the tent on the portaledge of Sergey and Den a TV-set like hole appeared. My socks, that were getting dry on the stone were washed away by the ice. Short call-over showed that all of us were safe. But&hellip sediment left&hellip

All the days we had spent on the ledge were mostly cloudy and there were no crumblings. That time, when I looked to usually feeble stream, and saw that it was gushing enough and to spare, I understood that it was a very hot day. It meant that giant icicles in the chimney above us would went on melting and coming off, transforming into new crumblings. It meant that we had to hurry up, when we would descend along a vertical wall we would be almost in safety, and there, on the ledge we were like on a palm. By the time, we hadn&rsquot even begun to strip the portaledges. We hurried up, but up to the end of preparing for the descent two more hours and two more new crumblings passed.

And here I was on the fixed rope. A trunk weighting about 25 kilograms dangling between my legs didn&rsquot add me any comfort. Thoughts about the possibility of a new crumbling made me a little bit nervous. Belay-descending device Trango Cinch like Gri-Gri produced jerks on a wet rope. Moreover, while descending it got so warm that left fritted tracks on the rope and sweetened your ears by hissing of boiling water and nose by the smell of something singed. Have you ever tried to iron a wet rope? Don&rsquot try you won&rsquot like it&hellip Having murmured something like: &ldquoGoss bless me!&rdquo, I passed the first rope. There were left only 16-17 ropes!

We had descended to the Base camp and celebrated our success.

Turning Back.

Only in the evening we descended to the base camp and at the moment became surprised: they met us with flowers! All the camp gathered together, we were put flower wreaths on the necks, they organized sings, dances, other joyful things&hellip Holiday supper with pizza (on 4200!).

And in the morning we began the process of gradual preparations for departure, that finished only after 2 weeks when we landed in Domodedovo. And there we again were surprised we were met by the half of the club, ovations, champagne, they put laurel diadems on our heads&hellip I had never felt something like that before! Goddammit, it was pleasantly!

Banquet in Domodedovo.

Well, that&rsquos all. Life came back to its customary rut. But the impressions left, and they are so strong that I have been overdoing it up to now. Probably it is the main thing, for the sake of which we went to the mountains.