Snow Lake, Rivers Of Ice

The Karakoram sees relatively few trekkers yet offers a true wilderness feel and some of the most spectacular mountain sights anywhere.

- Pierre Constant

RISING ABOVE A SEA OF CLOUDS, snow-capped peaks emerged. The Karakorams – even mighty Nanga Parbat itself, ninth-highest mountain in the world, with its imposing shoulders of rock and ice. Then we dropped back through the cloud, to the mineral landscape at their feet. There, in a dust-blown valley at 2,500 metres, the village of Skardu was an oasis of vegetation, poplar trees rising tall on the banks of the wide, silty, grey river.

It was a welcome return for me to an area I had last seen four years before. Then I had hiked the fabled Baltoro Glacier up to the great natural amphitheatre of Concordia, surrounded by 7,000- and 8,000-metre peaks. This time I was to make the so-called Snow Lake trek, a southeast to northwest traverse of the Biafo and Hispar glaciers. I’d be seeing more of this glorious range, seeing it also through the eyes of my son Shinto, then 23, on his first major trekking trip.

At the Mashabrum Hotel, our guide Zakir (alias Tiger), introduced our cook Mamo and kitchen help, Issa Ali. We also met Asad, who was joining the party. Tall, with Mughul features and long black hair, he was a Pakistani engineer, working for a water treatment plant in Karachi.

We headed to the bazaar, overlooked by Kharphocho Fort. It was very quiet, with Ramadan in full swing. Hidden behind a dirty curtain though, we found a teashop open. I bought dahi (fresh yogurt), and nuts and dry fruits for the trek: cashews, walnuts, almonds, apricots, raisins and mulberries.

Our trek was to be from Askole, Baltistan to Hispar in Hunza, roughly 150 kilometres, 120 of them on the two glaciers. Weather depending, the crossing of Hispar La, up at 5,151 metres, was to be the crux: a world of ice and snow, riven with crevices.