Muztagh Ata – Sometimes the Detour Becomes the Adventure

Muztagh Ata (7,546 m) is one of the world's best-suited high mountains for ski mountaineering. Its long, gentle snow slopes, with very few steep sections, make it a dream mountain for ski mountaineers. Camp 3, situated at around 6,800 metres, is also an ideal place to gain experience living and climbing at high altitude, making it excellent preparation for a future 8,000-metre expedition.

Full of anticipation, we travel via Kyrgyzstan to China, a country I had heard and read a great deal about but had never visited before. During our first days in the mountains, still on the Kyrgyz side of the border, we stay in beautiful traditional yurts heated by coal stoves. To my surprise, there is even a sauna. We acclimatise in the peaceful green surroundings, hiking along a mountain ridge to around 3,800 metres before continuing towards the Kyrgyz–Chinese border.

From there, a completely different adventure begins. Almost everywhere we go, we have to register, show our passports and pass through security checkpoints. After a while, I lose count of how many times we hand over our travel documents. Apparently, that's simply part of travelling here.

By the time we finally reach base camp, we are exhausted. With the sun already setting, we climb the small hill behind camp. Then, at last, she appears: Muztag Ata, slowly emerging from the clouds. Huge, white and imposing. It is a mountain that seems to invite you to climb it—and ski all the way back down.

One of the advantages of the base camp is that it can be reached by jeep. In the past, our groups would hike there while their bags were transported by camels, adding an extra touch of local flavour to the experience. Since the COVID-19 pandemic, however, the route has been developed, allowing vehicles to drive directly to and from base camp. That makes the expedition far more flexible than most. If the weather turns bad or plans change, it is relatively easy to switch to another objective. As it turned out, this flexibility became an important factor in the success of our expedition.

Only a couple of days after another of our groups had successfully summited Muztag Ata, tragedy struck. A Chinese team was caught in a blizzard during their descent, leaving four climbers missing. National and regional sports authorities, together with the local Kizilsu Kyrgyz Autonomous Prefecture, launched a large-scale rescue operation. Three of the missing climbers were later found deceased, while the search for the fourth continued. During the operation, the entire Muztag Ata area was closed by the authorities.

Not knowing when—or even if—the mountain would reopen, and fully respecting the ongoing search and rescue operation, we decide to leave the area and continue our acclimatisation with an ascent of Kezi Sel, a peak in the nearby Kongur Tagh massif. The journey alone is an adventure: a true 4×4 expedition across rough tracks through spectacular scenery. Kongur Tagh was first climbed by the legendary British mountaineer Sir Chris Bonington—a story that deserves a blog of its own.

Unfortunately, the weather changes once again, making our acclimatisation climb impossible. Instead of waiting in frustration, we decide to spend two days in the fascinating town of Tashkurgan, located near the Chinese–Tajik border. We explore the town and learn more about the culture of the Uyghur people. Moments like these remind us that an expedition is about much more than reaching a summit. We find ourselves immersed in a remarkable blend of cultures, feeling as though we had arrived on a different planet. And, of course, it was a welcome luxury to enjoy the comfort of a hotel, take a long shower and eat well again.

As the days passed and the recovery operation understandably remains the priority, we ultimately decide to reroute our team to Kyrgyzstan. We quickly adapt to the new objective despite the general fatigue and the uncertainty that could easily undermine our motivation. Everyone focuses on making Plan B work. After a long logistical transfer between countries, we repack and regroup.

On Peak Lenin, everything goes surprisingly smoothly. We take advantage of a brief weather window and climb through Camps 1, 2 and 3 before finally reaching the summit of this magnificent 7,134-metre peak. It is not the mountain we had originally come for, nor the ski descent we had dreamed of. But we return home with another beautiful 7,000-metre peak behind us.

This journey became much more than an unsuccessful attempt on Muztag Ata. We travelled through several countries, spent countless hours waiting at border crossings, constantly adapted our plans and gained a deeper understanding of how different cultures and systems work. By remaining flexible, we experienced an adventure we could never have planned.

As a mountaineer, you sometimes have to accept that your original objective is simply no longer achievable. That is part of expedition climbing. The real challenge is staying flexible and recognising opportunities where others see only disappointment.

Expeditions rarely unfold exactly as intended. Sometimes, the unexpected detour becomes the greatest adventure.

And Muztagh Ata? It is still on my list. I still dream of one day skiing down that magnificent white mountain. We'll be back next season!

Boris