A dream come true at Trango Tower
In July last year, the first Slovaks Martin Krasňanský, Tomáš Buček and Michal Mikušinec together with František Bulička from Czechia succeeded in climbing the iconic, highest tower in the world: the six-thousander Trango Tower in Karakoram, Pakistan. Read a retrospective of this expedition by Martin Krasňanský, who fulfilled his long-time dream.
Dreams
The memories fade in retrospect, but the feeling remains. Like larger pebbles of different sizes that rise to the surface of a glass when I shake it for a while. Only the valuable and precious remains.
I look back and see much further before the beginning of the expedition. I see the beginning of a dream that was probably more important than any peak or accomplishment. Without it, there would be nothing. Without it, the wheels of fate would not have begun to turn..
I can see myself as a teenager in my children's room, contemplating whether to cut out and pin to the bulletin board a picture of Trango Tower from the almost sacred Jamesak climbing magazine. But I wanted to display something so beautiful, to know that somewhere on planet Earth there was something so tall, so challenging, and yet so irresistibly beautiful. It had been in plain sight for years, but I hadn't even really dared to think about something like that in the sense that it might be for me. I remember not understanding that it was even possible to climb up there at that altitude, furthermore in frozen cracks.
In 2012, I made it to the Trango area. Unfortunately, the weather and my initial altitude issues did their part. I was glad to finally make at least 2 first ascents on the Uli Biah gallery.
That's when I told myself I would be back here soon. And I will never want to wait in line for the east face of the Trango again, as 5 teams were seeded in the Slovenia route.
But as it happens in life, fate took me to other places. Patagonia, USA, Madagascar, Greenland, India. The whole big climbing is a juggling act between experiences, dreams, teammates and time. It's only when it all comes together that things move forward.
2024 was a very challenging year for my family. My little girl won a big battle. Much bigger than Trango and Everest. Priorities to go on an expedition to fulfill my dreams were out of the question. My head was somewhere else. The whole climbing thing was elsewhere for a few months. Sometime around that time an offer came from the Czech side for a joint expedition. When I mentioned at home that they would probably all go, my Zuzka suddenly said, go, you deserve it, we will make it. I took it as a joke, but she didn't. She assured me she was serious. But I didn't want to be selfish. Hand on heart, leaving your family for five weeks is selfish. But she reminded me of what I read to my kids in bed at home, that the old moles' biggest regret was not following their dreams. And I didn't want to be that mole for my kids. I also wanted to be a role model that I would not regret much in life and that we should go after our dreams if we wanted to. After all, we have that luck as human beings.
The Team
But what about the team? Because without good teammates, even the most beautiful peak can be an ugly experience. Tomáš Buček was clear from the beginning. Our not only exceptionally skilled sport climber, but in recent years a mountaineer, who has many goals not only on the rocks, but also in the Tatras and the Alps. He is a great likable guy, and most importantly, he is easy-going in any situation. After my phone call, his fellow climber from the summer Alps Franta (František Bulička) from Prague, a skilled climber, an artist, quickly jumped into the team, because the goal was more than tempting for him. And finally the substitute Mišo (Michal Mikušinec). Another Slovakian representative in sport climbing with scalps above 9a, boulders above 8B and, I will reveal, also with the summit of Trango. Only a handful of people in the world have such a climbing résumé. But that doesn't mean anything unless you're a good guy and a jolly good fellow.
Target
I knew I didn't want to go back to the popular east face where Eternal Flamme is. Most of the routes there have a common entry, and I was worried that after Trango became even more popular with the Reel Rock Tour and the like, a lot of people from all over the world would flock there. I was thinking more of a free ascent of the British route. A step into the unknown, if that's even possible, as the most important essence of adventure. But in the end, I was able to get much better information about the Grand Diedre Desplomado from the legendary Michel Piola on the East Face. The guys who did a single repetition in 2006 sent me information worthy of gold and a topo more than appealing to ambitious youngsters at the peak of their powers. Difficult rock climbing in a vertical to overhanging west face with 8a+ so far only climbed AF somewhere around 5900 m vs oldschool climbing in the British route where such difficulty would hardly be there, full of mix climbing, snow, chimneys and more objective danger with which they have almost no experience. It was decided. It's off to the east face!
Logistics
There was heavy inflation in Pakistan, so we paid the agency the same $2,000 as we did in 2012, and from the moment we arrived in Islamabad, we didn't have to worry about anything. Pakistan and Baltistan (with the Baltoro Glacier, our Trango and K2 around the corner) is tourist friendly and the locals are real pros. The domestic flight to Skardu saved us not only two days of scrambling on the Karakoram Highway, but more importantly grey hair and energy. In 2 hrs. we were resting in a hotel in Skardu, where we finally enjoyed a completely different world. The dust, the chaos, the mess, the honking, but also the captivating atmosphere, the smiles and the first mountains. From there, 1 day on off-road cars. Well, they're tough drivers. The fact that the tyres had no tread anymore, the roads were more than dangerous, and the raging Indus, which would have swallowed our car like a paper toy, was rolling under us for a considerable part of the time, ceased to surprise me. I used Inshallah almost constantly. Especially on the way back more than necessary, and I was definitely more scared than during the whole climbing. The 3-day trek from Askole, the last civilization at about 3000m, to base camp at 4050m was a nice acclimatization. Was it? Unbearable heat since noon, shade nowhere. Probably due to my naive idea that the glacier hadn't changed so dramatically in recent years, even 4 hours on top lost in the gravel dunes. I apologize to my buddies even now after months. In the camp I promised them a swim in the lake and white sand like in Bali, which luckily was still there. But unfortunately, there were also overpopulated red critters in the water that liked the tightest holes. So again, nothing. Fortunately, the expedition tent, fully serviced by our Pakistani friends, managed to banish the bad mood and fatigue. As well as the incredible scenery we had all around us. Uli Biaho, Great Trango and especially the Nameless Tower. Well, our Trango, actually. We were finally where we wanted to be. Finally, it all made sense.
Acclimatization
Camp was at 4000 m and luckily no one had any health problems. The altitude was felt, but nothing drastic. Since it was a good period of weather, we tried to make the most of it. It is very important to keep moving and not to sit. The days were filled with bouldering in the area, hiking to the turn around and later with an overnight stay at ABC at 4800 meters. The approach ascent up the endless steep scree, circa 800 vertical meters, was a pretty unpleasant part of the trip and it definitely adds value to any climb on Trango. The real hell started on the huge snowfield that lies between ABC and the foot of the wall, where walking on the wet, slushy snow was not only an immense but dangerous slog. Avalanches flew here daily. Carrying 160 kg 300 vertical meters up was only for real experts, and not for us, comfortable asses spoiled by ten-minute climbs on the rocks. Even getting up at 3am didn't help the snow strength. Due to the snow load, my planned high camp at the foot of the wall did not happen.
Here, for the first time, the boys showed that they are no wimps, but fighters when they have to be. We hauled everything to the second pitch and stayed there for 2 nights. We tried climbing for 3 days, fixed about 300m, but we didn't make a big show. The weather showed all its faces, but the snow one prevailed. The grading from the Swiss guys was miles away from the inflationary commercial one we all secretly hoped for somewhere in the corner of our souls. Well, they were tough guys and that's the way it should be! Each pitch was over 50 m, so the challenge was not only the difficulty or belaying, but also to cope with the fact that while one started to climb in the sun, he often ended up in a snowstorm. Not to mention hand cramps, breaking rock or crooked portaledges. And it was supposed to be good weather during this period! When we got the call from home that a wave of heavy snow was about to arrive, and the next morning we saw the Basque climbers below us fleeing the wall to the comfort of base camp, the decision was made. Ground-up is not happening. We went down to recover from the agony of carrying. And that turned out to be a very wise decision. Although the weather ended up being exactly the opposite. Instead of 3 days of heavy snowfall, we had 3 days of luxurious sunshine and, of course, when we returned to the wall, when it was supposed to be good again, the weather was nasty. But in the end, we were regenerated, mentally well-tuned. We decided to ditch the weather forecasts and take advantage of even the minimum we were afforded to get up and back happily and in the best possible style!
10 days on the wall
It sounds like a long time, but when you're there, you don't even realize it. We would have lasted even longer if we needed to. In the comfort of my home, I look at it with incomprehension too, but as one saying goes, one gets used even to the gallows. We moved from the camp in the 2nd pitch to the camp in the 6th and later to the 10th. Quite good ledges were there. It turns out that everything bad is good for something. The constant snowfall had blown enough snow that we didn't have a problem with water. So, we didn't have to haul it from the base of the wall on fixed ropes as we had originally planned. Unfortunately, the weather was getting worse and worse and did not add to the mood. Besides, the rock was far from beautiful solid granite in some parts. The almost constant snowfall made climbing the real challenge. Fortunately, it was possible, at least in my pitches, to hang a bit in the cracks with a hand jam, when one could hardly feel anything.
Up to the mid-wall we managed to climb every pitch in team RP style. Tomáš probably excelled the most, when he climbed a new 7a in a fresh break in a terrible rock and then a long 7b+, which threw me and Mišo out. Franta climbed a nasty chimney. The 13th pitch still awaited us. The critical point. An attempt to RP an estimated 8a+. Unfortunately, the very first disappointment was that the crack system ends here, so hard aid climbing on pitons followed. Franta took it upon himself and after half a day got 30 m to the middle of the pitch, where he left the already overhanging but well protected part with bolts to others. Tomáš got on and despite the freezing point and the altitude he quickly managed to climb another pitch for about 7b, yet in the twilight he tried to climb another pitch for 7b, but in that temperature and finally complete darkness it was sheer utopia. At that moment I recognized a climber of world-class stature. The next day Franta and I decided to move the whole camp from the 10th pitch to the 14th pitch and the boys would try to practice the crux and get over the edge from the west face to finally reach the coveted south face. While Franta and I were slaving away, the boys were extremely cold on the edge where the wind was blowing hard. The mood was terrible. Instead of lavishly practicing the world's highest 8a+, we were like starving dogs and behind the edge we found our friends frozen to the bone. Chaos with transfers, chaos with ropes, discomfort with the conditions and slow pace, frustration... Fortunately, all that changed thanks to the incredible scenery and the impressiveness of the place we got to. The sight of the spectacular 400+ metre high monolith cut by just one crack where our route led, rock bathed by the setting sun and the Great Trango with the Norwegian Pillar on the opposite site, it was an incredibly powerful experience that will resonate with me for the rest of my life. I felt like I had stepped onto the border between our world and the heavens, where all that was missing were divine beings to ask us in thunderous voices what the hell we were doing there.
At the same time, the work of moving the camps was over for us, because it didn't make sense to move them any higher. And somewhere in the corner of the soul, the pressure to a RP climb may have fallen off, because that 13th pitch, 56 m long, simply couldn't be climbed in that temperature, even by such guys as were in our team. Maybe if they had been holding ice cubes in their hands instead of hanging on a campus board all year. We just stopped playing mountain climbers, but climbers where the summit is more important than the RP climb. That wouldn't have happened in the end anyway, because to climb free the A3, where I fully enjoyed micro pitons from Jackovič, would have been in the sci-fi category, and the upper A2 maybe somewhere in the 8b+ range. But each successive generation pushes the boundaries and what seems unimaginable to us today may one day be a reality, and that's a good thing. In the end, we were glad for every meter we gained. We only managed to climb half the wall in eight days, so the accelerated pace was more than welcome. Well, it wasn't exactly the fastest, even though everyone did their best. But it was something that will resonate with me the most. The guys never once said "Let's go down!". They didn't let up even in the shitty weather. Moments like Tomáš’s attempt to on-sight 7b in the dark and snowfall somewhere below 6000 m in freezing temperatures, Mišo’s exploding lungs after an OS attempt of an overhanging 7b+ where he fought almost literally to his last breath, Franta’s snowy runouts where he did daring stunts in total blizzard. And finally, my bottom in darkness, wind, exhaustion, in mixed terrain in unstable snow 30 m below the summit. Pressure from the guys to climb it. Well, the memory of my little daughter when I dug my helmet into the steep snow while resting mobilized me, as if someone had put a new spirit in my body, because what she went through was hell and this was just a shitty rose garden. I scrambled to the summit at 10:45 pm and soon after I was followed by satisfied guys. We were happy, but it was far from euphoric. For years, you drool over other climbers' summit shots. Tanned faces in sunglasses reflecting views of K2, Mashebrum and all the majesty of the mountains. We were looking into the black abyss of the north wall on the other side, with the prospect of several hours of nearly 500 meters of rappelling ahead.

That feeling of pride was imprinted on my heart only the next day when I was lowering our 120 kg backpacks tied in a ball down 200 m on a snow field. In the darkness I could see 3 glowing figures trying their last efforts to correct the path of the backpacks. It was grotesque but powerful at the same time. I finally got the full feeling that we are all safely on the ground, and those guys are just still trying to work hard! I was much prouder of them than I was of the fact that we had climbed Trango. It was what they had in their heads and hearts that carried them up, even though almost everything was against them. That was the pinnacle of everything! To come back down alive and as friends. The summit was only at the last place. And I know they'll be even better thanks to this!
Before midnight we finally reached the edge of the couloir below the wall. Expecting that everyone was already asleep and we would collapse into our tents, we were amazed when our buddies (Bača, Peťa, Stoupa) and our Pakistani friends were waiting for us 10 minutes away from the base camp with food, coke and a sound speaker playing Slovak punk rock. And the main thing was yet to come! Our main tent was flickering like some hotel in Las Vegas. To decorate it, they must have collected all the Christmas decorations from all over Pakistan. Inside, a royal dinner, flowers and a complete mindfuck awaited us. They set off a firework display so big that no village in Slovakia would be ashamed of it during New Year's Eve. I don't even know who was more excited about our success, us or them. It was terribly, terribly nice and human. We couldn't have imagined a more perfect ending for Trango.
Guys, it was an honor to climb with you! You became my brothers for that moment!
And thank you to the many people who were rooting for us and cheering us on. To the companies and individuals who supported us and believed that we could make this dream a reality. That's the essence of life that we should follow the most.
I dedicate this ascent to all the people who want to listen to their hearts and follow their dreams. My dream had been burning for 25 years and I don't regret a single day. 😊
Martin Krasňanský
Summary:
Grand Diedre Desplomado (Delale-Schaffter-Fauquet-Piola, 1987)Second repeat, 23 July 2024
1150 vertical meters, 13 days on the wall with 1 break, team RP 7b+ A3
Martin Krasňanský (SK), Tomáš Buček (SK), Mišo Mikušínec (SK) and Franta Bulička (CZ)