Last week, a big avalanche hit Hungary’s David Klein and Marton Nagy during their summit push on the rarely climbed 7,403m Istor-O-Nal in the Hindu Kush. Both climbers survived.
This was Klein’s second attempt on the rarely climbed peak in two years. (Last year, his partner was Bence Kerekes.) The mountain had a lot of snow this summer, much more than last year, and they progressed more slowly than planned. After acclimatizing at the beginning of July, the pair started for the summit early last week.
On July 2, they reached Camp 1. Two days later, just below Camp 3, a huge avalanche funneled down a couloir and spread out across almost the entire width of the open slope. The 400m-long slide almost swept them away, but the rope that they had earlier clipped into saved their lives.
The expedition photos show the unusually deep snow on Istor-O-Nal. Photos: David Klein and Marton Nagy
Started small, became gigantic
Later, Klein vividly recalled those drawn-out moments of the avalanche.
“I see the wall of snow towering above me — huge clumps of snowballs floating in it — and I throw myself into the air. I don’t want my legs to get stuck and break like toothpicks. And I want as much snow as possible under me and as little as possible above me…
Like a carp caught on a hook, I float in the white flood. I feel a pop or two: I think the attachment points above me [come out]. The rope is stretched like a violin string, while the current pulls and tugs my whole body.
My attention wanders in two directions: I wonder what is happening above me, at each of the anchor points of the rope? Where will it break? Also, what will happen below? It is true that the mass will only push us along for 300-400 meters, but at the end of the journey there will be 1.5 rope lengths of steep ice waiting for us…
After the avalanche. Photo: David Klein
Klein’s partner Nagy recalled those endless moments this way:
“I marched upward on our rope, following the trodden trail. When I saw that the corridor on the right had started to move, I thought it was funny that a small avalanche was going to pass us. I even laughed at it, and then I informed David.
By the time I looked up again, the huge snow roller was almost next to me. By now, it had grown into a roaring snow giant. Then I noticed that it wasn’t going to pass me because the whole slope was already moving.
I still didn’t take it seriously…thought it would just pass me and I would continue the ascent.
Well, that didn’t last long. It took me off my feet in no time, but luckily I had a plan B. I set my legs in such a way that…I [could try to] swim up to the top of the “rush.” It didn’t happen that way. I was turned in I don’t know what directions, while I felt the snap of the anchor on the rope above me. Then one more.
For some reason, it didn’t occur to me that our thin (7mm, and only 6mm in one section) ropes could break under the weight of thousands of kilos of snow. By the time I was thinking this through…I was already on the comet’s tail. I sat and dipped my hand into the 15-20cm deep, silent river of snow flowing around me like a warm stream.
I looked for David to see what the situation was with him. He was in the middle of trouble right then. I only saw his legs, and he didn’t even know which way was up….The sight worried me. In the end, somehow, he also stayed on the rope. He found his head up, his feet down, and he just gave me a thumbs up when I asked if he was okay.”
After the avalanche, Klein and Nagy safely descended that night. Two days later, they left base camp and will fly back to Hungary in a few days.
David Klein (left) and Marton Nagy. Photo: David Klein
