MANASLU 8163M SPEED ASCENT

Manaslu above C3 after my successful summit.

Mountain of fate. I had heard a lot about it. Not always in good terms. Dangerous, deadly, avalanches, accidents. But also one of the more “accessible” 8000ers.

For years, 8000-meter peaks were out of reach for me. Mostly financially. This year was supposed to be different. My childhood dream of climbing one of the highest mountains in the world didn’t come true last year. Broad Peak didn’t let me through. Physically, I was at my peak, but I only got on the mountain 5 times in 4 weeks due to bad weather. It took me a long time to come to terms with it. I let that dream drift into the depths of my soul.

But life works differently.

I kept training, sharpening my form in vertical races. But for me those are just practice for “what if.”

I thought about Kyrgyzstan, the Pamirs, or some 7000er in Nepal. Summer was passing by, and I couldn’t decide.

..

A group of friends was preparing for Manaslu. At first, I didn’t count on joining them, but I asked. One thing led to another. My “inner beast,” as I call it, leaped with joy. Suddenly, I had a goal to train for.

It wasn’t going to be without obstacles. At the end of July, I came down with a virus. Strange chest pain, odd symptoms. I wasn’t sure at all. Two weeks of half-hearted training. A thorough check-up in Czechia confirmed I was 100% healthy.

Two weeks later, I tripped on a run uphill and broke a finger. A trip to the ER, and the almost certain feeling that I wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe Manaslu just wasn’t meant to be.

But the doctor at the ER said that if I taped my finger to the one next to it, I’d be fine. Manaslu isn’t a technical mountain…

Okay, should I go or not?

Sometimes it feels like life is sending us signals. But sometimes, you just have to grit your teeth and go for it.

..

Departure was set for September 5.

Should I acclimatize? In the past, I never had issues with acclimatization. Quite the opposite. I spent years working in Chamonix on the Aiguille du Midi at 3800m. Almost 12 years. It did wonders. FKT record on Aconcagua, the 3 Summits Project, record from Midi to Mont Blanc.

But it’s been two years now. Is it still in my body? Last year on Broad Peak I felt strong. But due to the weather, I never got above 7100m.

Two training sessions on Mont Blanc will have to be enough. One crossing from Midi to Gouter and down to the lift, then once more the Trois Monts route in a single push. I met Kilian on his insane project running all the 4000ers, just below the summit of Mont Blanc.

Departure. In Kathmandu, I meet Matěj Bernát, his father Ivo, Gabo Slarko, Tomáš Petreček, and Ondra Pavlica. We fly by helicopter to Samagon. No time for trekking.

Samagon. Rural Nepal. Mud everywhere. We stay the night. Probably for the better, as basecamp is 1500 meters above us. We hike to 4200m for acclimatization. Everyone is eager to get higher and start. I’m curious how my body will handle the altitude.

September 8. Climb to basecamp. I feel good. Our camp is among the highest, at around 5000m. I expected 4800m. I’m slightly concerned. My saturation is about 80%, pulse elevated. The night is okay though. I feared sleep apnea, the classic sign of poor acclimatization.

We begin our rotations. The first part is a walk on the moraine, then from 5200m it’s the glacier, a few crevasses, and steeper sections… I realize I didn’t bring the best boots for the first stretch. My Phantom Techs are cumbersome. Nothing to do about it. The weather is mostly cloudy, it often rains.

The next days are about acclimatizing and hoping for good weather and conditions. The Seven Summit Treks Sherpas are fixing the lines. The section from C1 to C2 is taking them a while.

…

I plan my strategy. I have multiple goals. Reach the dreamed-of 8000m. Of course, without oxygen. Get to the summit. In a single push from basecamp. Fast. An FKT would be ambitious. Not a priority right now. I lack information, and mostly, I don’t know how I’ll feel at that altitude. Plus, I don’t have the best gear. My boots and crampons are too heavy.

…

The guys from my team are sick. It rains a lot.

…

I climb smoothly to C2, then C3, and a bit above to 6800m. Bad weather and the fixing team is still at only 6900m. A potential summit day is shaping up around September 23.

Friday the 20th. I plan to move to C4 and a bit higher. Also, I carry up to C3 my Scarpa 6000 boots and warm clothes for summit day. I start from BC around 4 a.m. I want to avoid traffic above C1.

C1 takes me about 1.5 hours, similar time to C2. 45 minutes to C3. With a few breaks, I reach C3 in about 4 hours.

The real fun begins above C3.

The slope steepens gradually. The route goes straight up, past some seracs, then at 7200m, it turns right toward C4. My pace slows. Breathing deepens. I pass climbers with oxygen and Sherpas. But soon, I struggle. Step by step. I surpass my personal record – 7100m. Eventually, it takes me 4 hours to reach C4. Incredible how altitude impacts the body.

I continue a bit higher to a small plateau. Altitude: 7500m. The sun blazes. I linger for a while. The summit ridge above looks long. I see a few figures far ahead on the summit. It’s going to hurt.

The next days, the weather plays an uncertain game with us. Will it work out? Snow is coming and likely will close the season. I wonder what the best plan is for me. The guys plan their own summit bids.

Over the weekend, it becomes clear that Monday the 23rd is the summit day. Tuesday may be too late. I’m calm. It will work out somehow. I rest, walk around camp.

I plan to start at 1 a.m. 2.5 liters of water (including a liter of cola), Maurten gels, one Mars bar.

Sunday, it rains all day. I suffocate my doubts. Matěj will sleep at C3 and start at midnight.

At 8 p.m. I go to bed. The sky clears, full of stars. At 10 p.m., on my way to the toilet, it clouds over again.

Midnight. Alarm. We’re in the clouds. Fuck it.

Porridge. Dress. Tom and Ondra wake up and see me off.

I set off from the Stupa below our camp. It’s 1 a.m.

…

Darkness, only my headlamp and breath. Fog and drizzle, light snow on the glacier. Doubts.

I put on crampons and follow the track. I notice pain in my diaphragm. Unusual. Probably fatigue from my rotation to 7500m three days earlier. Breathing at altitude can be so demanding it becomes a limiting factor. Nothing to do about it. Hopefully, it won’t get worse.

C1 in 90 minutes. Darkness and silence, I put one pole aside.

Steep sections below C2 go fine. Time passes quickly. But there’s still a long day ahead.

4 a.m. C2. Lhakpa Sherpa offers tea, I top off my water. Probably my last chance. I overtake teams heading for C3.

45 minutes to C3 in easy terrain. Still cloudy. I worry about visibility above. How much fresh snow is on the slopes after yesterday’s snowfall? Matěj is somewhere on the route, but I have no news.

C3. On my feet for 4 hours. I crawl into the tent, change socks and boots, put on GTX pants. Pack only essentials: big jacket, Primaloft pants, goggles, extra buff, big gloves. 20 minutes pass as I gear up.

Above C3, I finally emerge from the cloud. Almost clear skies. Spirits lift. I continue.

I hope for a faster pace than during the rotation, but it’s tough. I focus on steady rhythm. Searching for the best track. Each slip or break through crust costs me dearly.

But it’s working. I barely use my jumar. Upper body pulls reduce my breathing efficiency.

I pass a few climbers, mostly on oxygen. Everyone is in their own world.

I glance back now and then, the cloud rises by about 100m. Will it hold?

The slope steepens. I conserve energy. I know the summit ridge will be torture.

3.5 hours to 7500m from C3 is progress, but not by much. I’m depleted.

The final section looms above. 650m of vertical gain. I know it will be slow. I’ve already done 2500m+. Weakness. Despair. How will I finish this?

But I’ve been ‘here’ before. Just step by step.

..

It’s an exhausting journey.

The first 100-meter rise through wind-packed snow is manageable.

It’s getting cold. I put on my down jacket (Infinity Alpine Down) and a second buff. My legs are okay (RAB Talus Windstopper tights + Ladakh Goretex Paclite Plus). I’m using my 6000-meter boots for the first time. They’re heavy, but my feet stay warm. I turn on my heated socks. I know from experience that during speed climbs, I get hypothermic. If I stop even briefly, it hits fast. That’s why I chose heavier boots today at the cost of a slower pace.

Today, the goal is the summit, not speed.

7700m. Minutes? Hours? I don’t know. I lose track of time. 7800m. So close yet still far. Exhaustion. Emptiness. Willpower. Step by step, I count my steps. It helps — and frustrates me at the same time. Progress is painfully slow.

8000m. Wow. I’ve dreamed of this magical number since I was seven years old. Manaslu’s summit is still 163 meters higher. I laugh. I cry. I keep going. Every step is an effort.

Matěj is skiing down. We hug. A powerful moment with a friend. He has to keep moving, focusing on his own way.

I push through the final steep section. The summit is hidden behind the ridge. I despair. Not another climb! I have no strength left. I sit down. Maybe I even doze off. I don’t remember.

I must finish this. A few more short climbs. A traverse under the “real” summit. And the final 15 meters to the summit flag. I feel like I’m dreaming. I move in fast steps, following footprints. At this point, it doesn’t matter. I’m almost spitting out my lungs. I spend two minutes catching my breath, my face buried in the snow.

I lift my eyes. The summit. All I think is — finally, it’s over. 12 hours and 49 minutes from base camp to summit, non-stop. No supplemental oxygen. Manaslu 8163 meters.

I don’t even fully realize how lucky I am to be alone here. I radio call the base camp. Take photos. And laugh. I sit and try to get some food in. I still have to descend all the way back to base camp! Moments that will stay in me forever. Views of Himalayas, Tibet. Peace.

..

The descent. Not easy at 8000 meters. I stagger. I have to sit down occasionally. I’ve run out of water. Everything is catching up with me slowly. I realize I am ‘losing it’. This will be interesting. In the mountains, I’m out almost every day, usually in control of my performance and my body — most of the time! Rarely do I fully “bonk.” Here it could be deadly. I’m aware that I cannot afford mistakes or wait for anyone. There is no one up on the mountain who could help. It’s afternoon. I must reach C4.

In C4, Sherpas from 8K Expeditions give me plenty of water and some juice so I can continue. I run down to C3, where the guys from my team 14 Summits give me soup. I feel better. From C2, Matěj and I descend together, carrying the rest of our gear. We watch out for each other.

Night falls. We rappel down the serac walls. The mountain is quiet. My soul is quiet. My body exhausted, but still moving after more than 18 hours of effort.

In base camp, Ondra and the Sherpa team welcome us. Dinner. My eyes are closing. I go to sleep. In the morning, we leave.

Two days later, a meter of snow falls in base camp. Manaslu closes its doors.