Karakoram Journey

My heart is beating so hard I fear it’s going to smash through my ribcage. I’m frantically gulping chunks of air but nothing’s touching my lungs. It’s 4am, it’s below freezing, and I’m floundering on a sharp ascent of ice, 5500 metres above sea level. I collapse in despair and wonder what will happen to me. I’m trekking in the Karakoram mountains of Northern Pakistan. Brutal and uncompromising, the range is packed with many of the world’s mightiest and most intimidating peaks - including K2, Broad Peak, and Gasherbrum I & II, each over 8000m high. This is also the most heavily glaciated area of the world outside the Polar regions. The vast glaciers flow like God-sized conveyor belts, transporting temple-like seracs suspended upon frozen rivers of shattered rock. It’s awesome and beautiful, but this monumental fortress is under attack from climate change: fast-rising temperatures are disrupting the dance of heaving rock and lurching ice that has been performed here over millennia. Once known as one of the 'water towers of Asia’, the consequences of this sudden change are devastating, particularly for the millions of people living downstream. I’m lying on my back, gazing up at the stars. They look so close. They watch me back, silently, patiently. My heart beat softens, my breathing steadies, and my mind calms. I’d been moving too quickly to keep up with the group of people ahead of me. I tell myself I’m fine, all I need to do is continue at my own pace and trust more in my own abilities. I also know that once the sun rises, jagged rocks above me will be dislodged by melting ice and will start tumbling down. It’s time to pick myself up and head onwards once again, fragile flesh and bone navigating a galaxy of ice and rock.