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2003
Mugs Stump Award Winners:
Chabot/Miller/Anker—Meru Shark's Fin
Doug
Chabot, Bruce Miller & Conrad Anker
Dear
Mugs Stump Award Committee,
 Conrad Anker, Doug Chabot, and I were the thankful recipients
of the 2003 Mugs Stump Award for yet another attempt on Meru's
conspicuous Sharks Fin (6450m). We've been back for three
months now, the first couple of which I spent recovering from
the pneumonia that came back with me. I apologize that I'm
only just now able to get back with you. I've attached a few
photos of our attempt. Thanks again. I'm a big fan of the
Stump Grant (I even bought the tee shirt). We couldn't have
done this without the support. Let us know if there's anything
else we can do for you.
Though the summit of The Sharks Fin had been reached by the
prolific Russian alpinist Valeri Babanov in an impressive
2001 solo effort, a direct line was what the previous 20 or
so expeditions (and ours) had in mind. Most of those expeditions
favored "big wall" tactics to try and overcome the
final 500m of the namesake rock fin. The few that made it
onto the face didn't get their haul bags much past the initial
550m ice gully (or "The Filter" as I liked to call
it). We hoped race up The Filter, exit left onto the lower
reaches of the fin, rockclimbing it to directly below the
northeast face of the fin, where we could link ice features
up the final 500m, intersecting the fin's arete just below
the summit: five days max, roundtrip. As much as upping the
style-ante we thought going "fast and light" might
actually get us up the thing.
At 10pm, on September 13th, three weeks after arriving in
Delhi, we put the idea to the test. We crossed the bergschrund
at 5150m and started unroped up The Filter for a couple hundred
meters of 45 degree ice, to a point just below where we'd
been forced down a week earlier by deteriorating weather.
(The Filter is also a funnel for everything that comes off
the upper mountain; not a good place to be in a storm, or
even the daytime warmth.) Doug then led 9 classic pitches
of steepening ice, while Conrad and I followed in the only
way practical with too-heavy packs: on jumars. Doug's awkward,
near vertical exit pitch brought us to 5700m at 10am.
I led the next block: two 5.8 pitches, followed by a surprising
A2+ pitch on beaks and blades. With only a couple hours of
daylight left, we rapped back to a meager bivy ledge, leaving
our only two ropes fixed. That night was spent doing cold
contortions in an effort (unsuccessful) to find some sort
of comfortable sleeping position.
 The next day Conrad was in the lead. He sped up a moderate
mixed pitch, passing the last evidence of the few big wall
hopefuls who had made it that far, at a point where they traversed
out left. That pitch ended on a snowy shoulder where I worked
on excavating a platform big enough to actually set the bivy
tent up properly. Doug and Conrad continued up the last 100m
obstacle that separated us from, what we were confident would
be, a respite of easy snow slopes before the final difficulties
of the northeast face.
 It was a relief to see Conrad make quick work of the two critical
overhanging pitches (5.10x) before snow flurries sent he and
Doug back down. That night it continued to dump 8 inches,
ruling out climbing the next day, which dawned clear. That
sort of unsettled weather had been the norm for us and we
weren't too anxious about it yet. It was great to just lay
in the tent like sardines, occasionally getting up for a glimpse
of Shivling rising above the sacred Gangotri Glacier. What
we were anxious about were our chances of finding bivy sites
up above. We solved the problem by deciding to leave the bivy
gear and push unencumbered, nonstop from our camp at 5850m
to the summit.
At 10pm we "woke up" (I doubt if any of us had any
real sleep in the previous four days) and launched for the
summit. Above the fixed lines, Doug quickly realized that
our "easy" snow slope was in reality one meter of
unsupportable fluff over 60 degree blank granite slab. It
was a desperate mixed lead in numbing cold for him to get
just 50m to the last possible anchor. Further progress wasn't
a question of our ability or style. It was simply impossible
conditions—no ice, no cracks... no options but one.
The three of us were incredulous that our luck had turned
so unexpectedly. We started rapping and sixteen hours later
we were safely back in ABC.
We did our homework before we left for Meru, but obviously
we couldn't anticipate every obstacle we would encounter.
Even now, after having been there, I can't find a clue
in any photo that exposes the relatively benign looking
white patch as the dead end I suspect it usually is.
Certainly, there is nothing in any accounts by previous
expeditions. We were higher than any of them had ever
been on the northeast face (something we feel good about).
Some routes simply have to be explored before they can
be dismissed. It's not that the northeast face is unclimbable,
it's just that the snow and ice would need to be in really
exceptional condition to do so. Not the sort of thing
to gamble another Himalayan expedition on. Nevertheless,
we all left the Garhwal anxious to return... to go rock
climbing! Hey, there's still the big wall.
Sincerely,
Bruce Miller
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