Shishapangma 2024

9/20 – 9/25: Kathmandu to Tingri
Our journey starts in Kathmandu, where we finalize climbing permits and gear. We then travel to Shishapangma, spending our first night in Timure, a border town with Tibet. Eager to cross early, we head to the Gyirong Port Border. Despite being the first in line when the port opens, the crossing takes hours due to meticulous inspections both by hand and machine. Naoki’s Japanese book about an explorer is prohibited, although there’s no political content. Interestingly, Ganka and I attract little attention—we speculate they’re less suspicious of women. Ngima has a tense moment when a child’s drawing in his passport is discovered, but he’s eventually allowed through.

Full car headed to the border.

Daddy, Tracee, Naoki, Sasko, Ganka, Sirbaz, Jangbu, Dawa Kami and our “tour guides”.

After crossing the border, we head to Kerung. In Tibet, we must be accompanied by an official guide and frequently stop at security checkpoints. The road to Kerung is remarkably smooth and modern. As we travel, we spot an eerie sight: a futuristic procession of electric cars stretching as far as the eye can see, all headed into Nepal for sale.

We spend the night in Kerung, also known as Gyirong Town. I first visited this town back in 2018 during my climb of Cho Oyu, and it’s fascinating to see how China has invested significantly in transforming this once-small village into a logistics and trade hub between China and Nepal. You can see attempts to preserve Tibetan culture alongside a growing presence of security cameras and video surveillance. That evening, I had the joy of watching a traditional Tibetan dance unfold in the square in front of an old monastery, a vibrant reminder of the rich cultural heritage that still thrives here.

Sunset Kerung.

Man and child Tingri.

The next day, Mingma G joins us, and we set off for Tingri around 3 p.m. We drive over Gyirong Pass, soaring above 17,000 feet and catching our first glimpses of Shishapangma and Cho Oyu. By the time we reach Tingri, it’s close to 10 p.m. After settling in, we share dinner and meet other teams, including Nims from Elite, Kristen Harilla, and large groups from Seven Summit Treks—some headed to Shishapangma, others to Cho Oyu. It feels like a who’s who of climbers attempting to complete all 14 peaks.

Video of sheep at Shishapangma Driver’s Camp ->

ABC with so much snow. For reference there was almost no snow when we arrived 2 days before.

9/28: Snow day
Around 5 AM, I startle awake when Phur Gyaljen bursts into my tent, frantically clearing snow from the roof by hitting the tent’s ceiling. Despite this, I still feel sleepy and fall back asleep, wondering if I’m lethargic from too much CO2 or a lack of O2 in this suffocating tent.

Around 9 AM, the sound of Nims shouting finally rouses me for good. Initially, I fear he’s saying the expedition is canceled, so I sit up to listen, but it turns out he’s just excited about all the snow. I get up and see that our dinning tent has completely collapsed under the weight.

The rest of the day is spent trying to keep ahead of the never-ending snowfall. By the time the storm abates, we have over 5 feet of new snow. We start to hear the sound of avalanches spontaneously occurring outside from the weight of the falling snow. I begin to think that the spirit of Shishapangma is warning us not to climb and trying to protect her summit. All I can think about is the avalanches from last year that killed four people. Eventually, I fall into a restless sleep.

9/29 – 10/1: Base Camp

After the snowfall, we spent the next three days allowing the snow to settle at higher altitudes to decrease the avalanche risk. We passed the time by hiking behind base camp in the snowshoes that Mingma G brought for the team. As a backcountry skier, I have little reason to use snowshoes back home and normally refer to them as “slow shoes” or “suffer slippers.” After my first outing in the snowshoes, I realize that the way I walk in them somehow increases the pain in my arthritic knee.

Ice fall on the way to lower C1.

10/1: ABC – C1

We started our journey around 8 a.m. I reluctantly agreed to wear the snowshoes, even though I was convinced they weren’t necessary since the snow was compacting. The climb was beautiful, with gentle slopes winding toward the icefall. Traveling was easier this year, as all the rocks were blanketed in snow. However, I struggled because my arthritic knee hurt while using snowshoes. Daddy and I shared complaints about our knees—he was coping with his own pain from a partially torn MCL sustained while we were climbing together on G1 this summer.

When we reached Crampon Point, I was relieved to ditch the snowshoes in favor of crampons, which alleviated some strain on my knee. We took our time navigating through the icefall and caught up with our team photographer, Sensei. Daddy and Sensei enjoyed a smoke while I continued my ascent toward lower C1. When I arrived at lower C1, the rest of the team was already there, enjoying lunch. Although we had initially planned to stop, the day was perfect, with sunny skies and calm weather, so Mingma G suggested climbing a few more hours to upper C1. Part of the group forged ahead while Daddy, Naoki, and I took a moment to eat our own lunch before resuming our climb together as a rope team.

Mingma G eating lunch lower C1.

Team moving from lower C1 towards upper C1.

The final 1,500 feet to upper Camp 1 consisted of a moderate snow slope that seemed to drag on forever. I had to put the snowshoes back on, which meant my knee was complaining again.

Upon arriving at upper Camp 1, we began setting up our tents and melting snow for water. As soon as the sun dipped behind the ridge, temperatures dropped significantly, prompting me to put on my down suit for warmth. Daddy, Ngima, Naoki, and I shared a tent.

10/2: C1-C2

Kili, Jangbu, and Ngima woke up at dawn to carry a load of gear up to Camp 2. After dropping off their loads, they returned to Camp 1, and together we set off back up the mountain late morning. The route to Camp 2 involves a flat traverse followed by a steep 40-degree section, then a longer stretch at about 20 degrees. Last year, the 40-degree section had an avalanche that partially buried two climbers, who thankfully were not injured. Remembering that incident made me nervous, so I felt relieved once we passed that part of the route. Instead of fixing a rope here, we opted to climb on a main rope.

Once we ascended past the steep section, the temperature fluctuated dramatically, swinging from uncomfortably hot in the sun to freezing when the wind kicked up. Eventually, we arrived at Camp 2 and began the process of setting up our tents and melting snow for water.

Route to C2 2024.

Route to C2 2023 showing avalanche.

Camp 2.5

10/3: C2 – C2

Today’s climb was relatively short, lasting about 2 hours and 30 minutes. For some reason, my right foot felt unusually cold, and I couldn’t get it warmed up until we finally reached camp. Overall, I felt stronger today, which I attribute to not having to wear snowshoes.

When we arrived at Camp 2.5, I was struck by the stunning views. Lake Paiku shimmered like a beautiful turquoise gem, perfectly contrasting with the rugged Tibetan plateau. In the distance, Mount Kailash stood majestically, its iconic silhouette serving as a reminder of the sacredness of this land.

Lake Paiku

Daddy and Tracee with Tibetan plateau behind us.

Meanwhile, Kili, Geljen, and Jangbu continued their ascent, placing a fixed rope on the steep pitch leading up to standard Camp 3. They soon returned to share that the conditions were excellent. The combination of breathtaking landscapes and the excitement of all of us preparing to tackle our final peak made this moment truly unforgettable.

10/4: C2.5 -> Summit -> Camp 2.5

We slept for a few hours but than got up around 1 am to start preparing for our summit push. We were climbing by 3 am. Initially there were places where the snow was deep and some of our team elected to use snowshoes but I preferred the occasional post hole to the snow shoes. Soon we reached the steep pithch where the Sherpa’s had fixed the rope the previous day. Once we arrived at the standard location for Camp 3 we were blasted by strong winds making navigation challenging. Mingma conferred on the radio with the team of Sherpas ahead of us and they let us know the winds were less once we could get around the corner. Light was just beginning to streak across the sky. Once we got out of the wind and the sun was rising we stopped to refuel our bodies and just be in this moment. I could not help but think of the people who were killed here last year in close to this exact spot. Somehow instead of sadness it gave me peace to know they were resting in such a sublime and heavenly spot.

Video credit: Mingma G

Kili, Jangbu, Galjen fixing route (see arrow).

I did feel apprehension watching Kili, Geljen and Jangbu pick there way up the snow cliffs above us, fixing rope as they went. Soon we continued climbing and eventually caught up to them.

As we climbed our way up what I thought was the final stretch to the summit I noticed Kili returning and Mingma G and he conversing and Kili shaking his head no. Shoot, is this it, is the last stretch unclimbable I wondered? Time is hard to comprehend in this environment but after what seemed like either 30 min or 3 hours later, we were moving again.

30 min or 3 hours? Mingma G and Kili are up ahead figuring out how to fix the final stretch.

Mingma G and Ngima Nuru had fixed the final section of a corniced ridge to the true summit. My jaw dropped as I gained the ridge and saw the traverse to the true summit, this time although I was deeply afraid, I knew I was going to the summit, no matter what.

Video credit: Mingma G

When I reached the summit, the atmosphere buzzed with celebration, and there was so much to be proud of. Mingma G and Nims had just completed their final 8,000-meter peak without supplemental oxygen—an incredible achievement, especially since Nims had previously relied on oxygen for this summit. Meanwhile, Dawa Gyalje (Daddy), Naoki (who climbed with supplemental oxygen), Sirbaz, and I were also celebrating a significant milestone as we completed our 14th peak. Sirbaz made history as the first person from Pakistan to conquer all 14 eight-thousanders without supplemental oxygen, while Naoki celebrated becoming the first from Japan to accomplish the same feat.

Our summit group of 11 comprised an amazing team: Mingma G, Daddy, Nims, Tracee, Naoki, Sirbaz, Gyaljen, Jangbu, Sensei, and Sasko. Each of us had our individual reasons to celebrate, and the shared joy of reaching such heights together made this moment truly special.

However, the summit was bittersweet for me. As I looked out over the breathtaking expanse, I couldn’t shake the thoughts of the tragedy that had unfolded the previous year on this very mountain. The memories of lost friends and the weight of their absence pressed heavily on my heart, making me wish that all of us could have stood together at this pinnacle, sharing in the triumph of the moment. It was a reminder that while we celebrated our accomplishments, the mountains also held memories of challenges and heartache.

In my usual fashion, a sense of urgency to begin descending the mountain crept in. My fear of heights nagged at me, and I knew I would feel a sense of dread as we retraced our steps across the corniced ridge. The mix of exhilaration and anxiety created a complex tapestry of emotions that I would carry with me long after leaving this remarkable summit.

The descent proved straightforward which was a relief. As we approached C2.5 and the sun was setting over the Tibetan plateau there was a profound spiritual feeling of peace and satisfaction.

Summit cake!

10/5: Camp 2.5 -> ABC

We rose with the sun the next morning, packed up camp, and set off for base camp. The final stretch from the icefall below Camp 1 had melted somewhat, making the footing trickier, and it felt like it took forever to complete the descent. When we finally arrived at base camp, we were warmly welcomed by our cook, Assdai; Sasko’s wife, Ganka; and members of other teams.

I was completely exhausted and fell asleep as soon as I settled in, inadvertently causing our tradition of eating a celebratory cake to be postponed until the following morning.

10/6: ABC -> BC

As the sun peeked over the horizon, we awoke to the sweet taste of our summit cake, a fitting celebration of our achievement. The Sherpas were already busy breaking down tents and packing our gear, their movements efficient and practiced. Meanwhile, the yak herders, who had arrived the night before, quickly loaded the animals for the return journey.

We hiked out slowly as a team, savoring each moment in the serene landscape that had been our home for the past two weeks. With every step, my thoughts turned introspective. The beauty of the high-altitude world surrounding us was breathtaking, but it was the experience — the struggles, the triumphs, the camaraderie — that weighed heavily on my mind.

I realized that processing everything that had transpired would take time — perhaps a lifetime. Each experience etched in my memory would serve as a reminder of the challenges faced and the incredible bond formed among us. Standing on the summit of Shishapangma marked not just the culmination of a goal to scale the world’s 14 highest peaks, but also an incredible journey of personal growth and unwavering determination.

As we descended, I felt a deep gratitude for the journey, for every moment that had led us here, and for the lessons learned along the way. This expedition is not merely a chapter closed but a profound experience that will shape the rest of my life.

“In the end, we only regret the chances we didn’t take.” — Lewis Carroll