Alcesti de Righi Diary Entry

Sunday, 10 September 1905

 

 

 

Sept. 10.—Dawn breaks most fine and clear. After a hurried breakfast I start off ahead to find the path and, if possible, to an unclouded view from the top of the pass which, I believe, is a good hour's walk. The slight vegetation is soon left behind rising out of even grass, and then to my sorrow, I am back on the moraine once more. I notice one or two "Steinmann" and wonder if these may be some made by Mr. Douglas Freshfield's party in 1899, as we are now following in their footsteps. The scenery becomes bleaker as I mount on and on, but still no pass in sight, I am eventually forced to halt and rest, having lost so often the hardly visible path, and made my march much longer by three detours. I get at last in sight of the top of the pass, a mass of ice. I have been walking hard since seven o'clock; it is now 11, and I have still a good hour to get to the top; seeing the uselessness of continuing I sit down to wait my companions, watching a covey of partridges scurrying up the rocks. Having no gun I have to content with watching. My friends soon join me and we push on. At exactly noon we are at the top of the Kang La (the ice pass) so named because covered all the year round by ice, this being really a glacier with two outlets to the East and West.

     

The Kang peak rises nearly 2,000 feet above the pass, which is given on the map as 16,340, the peak itself being over 18,000, a rugged mass of rock and ice. The view with the exception of the Kang peak though fine is too closed in by the bare rocky hills, no snowy mountains being visible, as we thought might be the case. We are lucky to get there in time and find the Kang peak unclouded, but soon after we are enveloped in a small snow storm, which makes us hurry over our lunch and by 4 o'clock we reach our night's camp from where this is written.

 

 

The Englishman, 12 October 1905.