MOUNTAINEERING: THE LAST DESCENT
In the past few decades, Pakistan’s mountains have become more and more accessible. A better-equipped airport at Skardu, improved road networks and social media exposure have transformed Pakistan’s adventure tourism industry from being engaged by a select few into one that is attracting hundreds of climbers and trekkers each season, to climb some of the world’s most difficult peaks and cross the highest passes.
By any metric, Pakistan’s mountain tourism industry and its local mountaineering culture have seen remarkable success in recent years.
But the rapid expansion has also led to some catastrophic consequences, and one that mountaineers know all too well: people do not always return. Fatal accidents claim climbers every season, including those with a lifetime of experience and those who are starting out.
What happens when tragedy strikes at the roof of the world? When the climbers are still believed to be alive, both ground and aerial rescue operations are launched to find them. However, if they have died, retrieving a body is an arduous task that few attempt.
Every climbing season, Pakistan’s highest mountains claim the lives of mountaineers. Bringing climbers down alive is difficult. Bringing back the dead is even harder. Yet a handful of Pakistanis have quietly taken on one of the world’s most dangerous jobs: recovering bodies from above 7,000 metres
Every climbing season, Pakistan’s highest mountains claim the lives of mountaineers. Bringing climbers down alive is difficult. Bringing back the dead is even harder. Yet a handful of Pakistanis have quietly taken on one of the world’s most dangerous jobs: recovering bodies from above 7,000 metres
As commercial mountaineering expands across Pakistan’s highest peaks, some individuals and small teams have found themselves performing a mission for which there is limited institutional support: bringing back the bodies of those who never returned.
In a country that lacks a dedicated private high-altitude rescue and recovery service — the army’s aviation unit is the primary agency for such interventions — these missions often become an improvised system of last resort for grieving families.
THE RECOVERY THAT CHANGED MINDS
Austrian Georg Kronthaler is making mountaineering and skiing safer. He developed the Local Avalanche Risk Assessment (LARA) app and also conducts courses on predicting avalanches. For him, making mountains safer is a personal mission. But his most lasting contribution might be in changing a long-held view.
In July 2006, his younger brother, Markus Kronthaler, tragically lost his life on Broad Peak (8,051 metres) in the Karakoram Range of Gilgit-Baltistan. The 39-year-old had successfully climbed the peak, but the mountain was unforgiving. His body lay just a few metres below the summit but could not be recovered. Markus’ expedition was being recorded and Georg could even listen to the final radio messages that his brother sent.
“When my brother died in 2006, I couldn’t accept the idea that he would remain up there forever. My mother would probably have waited her whole life for him to come home,” says Georg Kronthaler, speaking to Eos via WhatsApp.
At the time, the accepted opinion amongst the mountaineering community was that if one were to need assistance or die in those altitudes, they could not be helped by other mountaineers. High altitude rescues for the living are not only costly, but also far more technical and dangerous than an expedition to climb a summit. For reference, out of the over 340 people who have died on Mt Everest, nearly 200 bodies remain on the mountain.
“I wanted my brother’s death not to have been in vain, but rather to bring about a change in the mindset among mountaineers,” Georg says. “The........
