Chronicle from BC in Nanga Parbat,

Friends: In the present chronicle I share with you the facts that happened on Saturday, June 18, when we arrived to Base Camp.

We were all minding our business, fixing each of our personal tents, when Manuel Vasquez came, a boy from Aragon, asking for help, anguished, because an accident happened in Camp 1 (5,000m). A block of ice fell on the back of Raquel Perez (San Sebastian), a dear friend of mine; she is immobilized in her tent, possibly with a fracture, and she has to be evacuated.

Without thinking twice, Edurne and I got ready to leave to help her; in my tent, which I had just started putting in order, everything was a chaos. I had to turn it all around to find gloves, socks, sunglasses, etc; meanwhile, Josu and Sebas had improvised a stretcher with rods from the shower tent, ropes and duck tape. With some suggestions from Sebas and a pack of cheese crackers given by Mariane, Edurne and I take off in a rush. Ahead of us a group of Swiss had left before, another group of Japanese and one more of Asturians, where Jorge Egocheaga goes, a physician who I met last year in Cho Oyu. Two Czech friends join our rush: Radek and Mhiska, who I met in Shisha Pangma, also last year. The four of us go up flying, puffing like locomotives, fighting this horrible snow that wets us and sucks us down to the knees. At the edge of the glacier, the Czechs stop to put on the crampons and I continue without stopping, as in a competition, a competition to get as soon as possible to help my friend. While I puff and sweat, from time to time I have a moment to think and I hope it is not something grave what happened to Raquel.

I reach the Japanese, I greet them and they let me pass. I reach the Asturians, I greet them and they also let me pass. After crossing some ugly looking crevasses and thinking that they can be complicated while taking Raquel on the way down in these conditions and during the night, I stop to fix a clip in a rock that sprouts from the snow. After doing it and after catching my breath I continue my race. I reach the Japanese again, they let me pass and I continue my flight. From time to time I see images of the last ascent I did on Cotopaxi a little more than a week ago, just before coming to Pakistan, as part of my training. There, puffing and flying like now, it
took me 2 and 10 hours to the summit.

I climb through the snow sinking all the time, it is night already: 19h20. I can't see where the camp is by I hear voices, I must be close. Raquel, I hope you are fine, don't worry, we will take you out of here!

At 19h30 I get to the location of the camp, there are two Swiss and Jorge, the doctor, as part of the rescue team; doing company to Raquel, who is already wrapped in her sleeping bag, on two isolating pads making a stretcher. Her teammates are there: Wille her husband, Diego from the Canary Islands and the two Xaviers from Pamplona. I greet Raquel, I give here a quick kiss, I caress her cheek and cheer her up telling her that she will get out of this one right away, that she will be okay for the fiestas of San Sebastian in August, that we will dance to the tune of Juanes together.

Slowly the rope starts to move and the body of Raquel slides on the snow held by everyone who came here in her help. By the end of the snowy slope, over which the movement was easy because of the gravity, the trail from the edge of the glacier to Base Camp is eternal, because we have to walk all the way. Then we use the stretcher and we lift her over the snow, the rocks and the stones. It begins to snow lightly and when I ask for relief to rest I note a precious image in the middle of the night and the mountain: dozens of frontal lamps lighting the way, dozens of hands taking turns with the stretcher and several voices of love and support for Raquel: Joining hands through the rods of our improvised stretcher, but above all the beautiful attitude of solidarity of the Japanese, Czech, Canarians, Spaniards and a South American.

At 10h30 in the evening we reach BC, where they have improvised a place for first aids and Raquel is left in the hands of Jorge. We say goodbye, wet, dripping because of that humid snow, but warm on the inside, covered by the  warmth of solidarity.

Note:  Monday, June 20, Raquel was lifted by a helicopter to Gilgit and tomorrow she will be in Islamabad. The doctors said she has a fissure in her hip.

IVAN VALLEJO RICAURTE

Expeditioneer

Translated from Spanish by Jorge Rivera