Myanmar Movie full 2015The Myanmar movie full 2015
An elite team of climbers almost crumbled as a remote summit in Myanmar
I am hit by the breeze, and I hold on to my pick in despair so as not to be torn off the mist. I' m tied to my two escorts without us hanging on the hills. I put an anchorman on a cliff wall and secure my partner, Cory Richards and Renan Ozturk, over the abyss.
" When he gets there, he screams about the roaring of the breeze. As Renan comes to me, there is no place on my cornice, so he goes out to his own pole. She cautiously slides the prongs of his step irons along a thin edge above us and vanishes from our eyes. but we' re so freezing that it doesn't really make any difference.
After Renan begins to climb, I go after him. It is intended to be attached to the hill to capture a falling, but such deadly situations often occur during mountainshipping. I and Renan stop in a small niche with a view of the northern face of the hill. By the blow of spindle drift we can see Cory crossing another surface of ice.
It' too risky for Renan and me to move on. "I' m getting cold," says Renan. This is the 10th trip I wonder if this is the end of our search for the highest summit in Myanmar - a trip that has taken us to our own natural and spiritual depth.
Way down on the hill, our other members of the crew are moving for us in our minds. Taylor Rees, our basecamp leader, is at the bottom of the hill. Last night we abandoned Hilaree O'Neill and Emily Harrington in the snow-covered ridge walk where our tired crew had a fierce fight over who was trying to reach the top.
I' ll tell Renan to take off his shoes and put his legs under my down coat, against my breast. If Cory moves around a pillar, we begin to move. We are still far above our immediate target - the comb of the western comb, glittering like a dagger.
"He says, "My trail." Renan says. Climb up and kick his crampon wooden into the slush. Cory' s getting taut and Cory' s taking off. Reaching the crest and pushing my ice-crusted face into the light, it's like pushing my skull into the sky. I' m pulling my corpse onto the crest, and a cover of sunshine surrounds me.
After Renan and Çory fell over the crest to get out of the breeze, they found a rock deck over the southern wall. When Renan removes his boot, he begins to rub his toe. Meanwhile, Celia pulls out his video and starts taking shots. This is the first climb we have seen after more than a whole weekend: a glowing mountaintop.
We can also see what we still have to climb: a threatening, jagged crest of rocks and snows, watched over by a twelve dagger-like battlements. An airplane takes you to the North or South Pole, you can fly by chopper to the Everest or Makalu basecamp, touristboats cross the Nile and the Amazon.
Hakakabo Razi (pronounced KA-kuh-bo RAH-zee) is considered the highest summit of Southeast Asia. It' a rugged massive of dark rocks and snow-capped snow-capped peaks that are unlikely to rise out of the steamy lush rainforest in the north of Myanmar. To get to the top of the hill, it takes a two-week hike through the thick rainforest, which is crossed by ravines and populated by poisonous snake.
Fascinated by Kingdon-Ward's travels, I was decided to make the first climb of the Hkakabo Razi. In autumn 1993 I recruited my climbers Steve Babits, Mike Moe and Keith Spencer. Mike and I had since made several first climbs in the Rockies and the first downhill run of the Niger River in West Africa.
Back then, the Burmese Army Junior, who later re-named Burma Myanmar, established the northern borders for foreign nationals. Naive, we were planning to get around this barrier by entering the hill from Tibet, crossed the frontier unlawfully, travelled quickly and easily without coaches. Took more than a months just to get near the foot of the hill.
On the northern side of Hkakabo we ran out of dinner and had to go down to a tibetian town. The Ozaki released a detailled report about his trip, but he did not take the altitude of the peak with a handheld device, leaving the precise altitude of the peak uncertain. Jung and persuaded of our unconquerability, Mike, Keith and I spoke about our return to Hkakabo.
And he happily climbed 15 ft below me when we hear a roaring ear. Lying on our noon snack in the hkakabo Razi with Cory and Renan sipping wet pasta, I am remembered of my missing mates. Like Cory, Mike was fun, guiding us through some of the worse times of the journey with perfect timing.
Like Renan, Keith was silent, always the size around him, always the steady tone in the middle of the bust. In the last few months I have been with Cory and Renan, it has been a little like looking back on myself and my deaths. In these two younger men I see the same enthusiasm for mountaineering, the same determination, the same limitless ambitions and in those instants the same feeling of being bullet-proof that Mike, Keith and I had 22 years ago.
Renewed our determination, we begin to examine the battlemented crest before us that will lead to the top. Since the hill has largely not been explored, we climb with little off-road-experience. The western crest of Hkakabo is a two miles long saw edge - a row of rock spires divided by heavy snowfalls.
Different from some hills where you can fire up to the top, we climbed all the way up and down the rugged cliff line, down the back, balanced over a white flyover, then up to the next rugged peak. We' re trying to find a possible path, but the spiky comb waves like a snake's tails, so we can't see all the obstructions.
Packing up and heading out to remain on the bright side of the hilltop. "Bivouac trembling begins," says Cory as he closes the awning and closes the screaming darkness that has come down the mountains. We could see in warehouse 3 that the burr became technically and cunning.
And Renan says little about what's natural. Even Cory is calm. And I know Renan has something to do with a friend's treason. You know, I' m chased by my deceased boyfriends, that this hill is my beloved Cetacean. It took us a whole months to get to the bottom of the Hkakabo Razi.
At first we had to traverse almost all of Myanmar. Arriving in Putao, the most northerly city in Kachin State, we spend five nights "under arrest" while our mountaineering licences were beaten back and forth by officers. The 151 mile hike to the Hkakabo camp floor through the damp, murky jungles then began.
All of us kept our distances, except Cory, who kneeled down and started taking pictures. This was one of a dozen serpents that Zoltan Takacs, a toxin specialist, had told us about before we came to Myanmar. Almost every other moment we would have met many natives who were willing to earn 15 dollars a dollar a days, twice the amount of our wages.
Hkakabo Razi was unlikely to become a catchphrase when we got there in the autumn of 2014. An Associated Press newspaper report was published on September 10, 2014, three wks before our United States leaving: "The quest for lost mountaineers begins in Myanmar. "An eight-man, purely Myanmari expedition to Hkakabo had started to take one of its people to the highest summit of the state.
At the 31st of August, after two week of rock-limbing, two members of the crew signalled from somewhere near the hill. Helicopters swam across the jungles between Putao and the hill. Hkakabo Razi had taken three human lifes in a single months after years of silent darkness. A different US rock climbers was partially after this abrupt focus on the hill by the people of Burma.
A year earlier, Andy Tyson, a leader from Teton, had been leading an American-Burmese mission to a neighbouring summit named Gamlang Razi. Tyson had studied contemporary topographical and Google Earth pictures and found that gamlang could indeed be higher than hkakabo. Tyson's squad made the first climb of Gamlang Razi in September 2013.
Indeed, the Myanmar exploration had started to show that Hkakabo Razi is still the highest hill in the state. Their unfortunate climber had transferred a 18,996 foot value before they disappeared on the overflow. Myanmar's highest hill would stay a riddle until someone with a reconnaissance system was standing on the top of the Hkakabo.
Renan, Cory and I reach the tables, each of us swallows steam while the breeze in the awning works on a big satchel. Then we put it back on the cooker and melt it until each of us has a full hot-water container with which we are asleep.
"I like nothing better than to spoon with two really stinking guys," jokes Corey. Me and Renan are outside against the frost-covered tents while Centre is in the centre. "I' ll take the outside," says she. We returned to the jungles, two nights before we reached basecamp, and encountered a tired, hollow-eyed Japonese crew retiring from Hkakabo as if they were coming back from the front line of an epichr...
We' had seen them and were worried that they would leave before us, which made all our effort irrelevant before we could even see the mont. Finally they had made their own try over the western crest, which was also the path we wanted to take. Your Teamleader, Hiro Kuraoka, has been hurt.
They had been halted several hundred metres from the top by a blank line of ice and steep, insuperable battlements. and that'?s all that counts in the end. Then after almost two week of hiking we went out of the stinking jungles and onto the ascending south side of Hkakabo.
We ran out of it. During Kingdon-Ward, the endpoint of an exploration was hardly ever predicated on a given date, but in our contemporary times it is the least available of all. It took Ozaki 25 day from basecamp to get up the hill. Next weekend we set up three bases at the back of the western crest, but under deadline pressures and given the difficulties of the ground, the relationships between the teams were frayed.
When Hilaree arrived perilously chilly in Camps 2, I was particularly worried. On the next morning, as Hilaree and Hilily ascended to the third campsite, they seemed to be uncomfortable on the precipitous, expansive sides of icy and snowy roads and were moving sluggish. She is a Swiss sports climber but had little practice in this type of rockfall.
She is a famous female mountain skier with some demanding mountaineering adventures in her curriculum vitae. Cory, Renan and I have deep background in this kind of setting. He was the first American to ascend 26,362 feet of Gasherbrum II in Pakistan in cold weather, surviving an accident. Part of the crew that climbed the 20,702-foot Meru Central over the shark fins was Renan, a violent ascent that many thought inaccessible.
For over 35 years I climbed for the first time in Antarctica, the Rockies, the Alps and the Himalayas. This experience did not alter the intrinsic danger, but it meant that the three of us were able to move more quickly and rely on each other impliedly with our life as we strove for the mountain.
There is nothing more harmful in the hills than hybris, but hybris is essential for mountaineering. Almost all of us, at some point on some hill, resisted logics and declined to turn around, as Hilaree did now. That might seem hard, but I am in a saison of my rock climbin' careers where frankness and sincerity outdo courteous silences, even with my buddies.
Finally, Cory couldn't bear the grudge and said Hilaree could take his place in the top group. But Renan and I were reluctant to accept the new scheme. Said it was too chilly for her and said if she had a second fight with supercooling, she could jeopardize the crew.
Said to Cory to go instead. "Cory asks and fights like a snake man to put his boot in the little shelter. "It' so much fun," Renan says dryly and presses his knees against the snatching canvas. 39 jours with boat and train, serpents and bloodsuckers; after scratching up the pure faces of hkakabo's western crest; today is peaked.
Then we click on our step irons, climb up and begin to climb. The only way to rescue his own survival would be for the next person to quickly jump from the opposite side of the ropes, both men pray in the milisecond of possible forgetfulness that the ropes will not be stretched over a razor-sharp cliff and cut off.
That is the necessary confidence level for mountaineering. In this way you go beyond yourself and connect with your climbers. Renan and I aren't quite prepared to go back yet. I' m leading down a snow-covered boulder, through a small passage between two cliffs, hanging along a surface of a half moon of ice, and all of a sudden the whole trail to the top comes before me.
Now I see that it is full of solid rock fangs, like the jaw bone of a fossa. The peak would take another overnight on the hill, but this year without tents, stoves, meals or fresh swill.
We' d be sitting in the darkness on a cliff on the side of the hill and we' d be freezing to our deaths. We' re not going to be measuring the altitude of Hkakabo Razi. We' re not going to unravel the secret of Myanmar's highest hill. Mike and Keith stand on a hill and wear swollen down jackets, helms and a broad grin.
It was my ambition to place this image on the top. I' m taking a G. P. D. measurement at our climax, 18,841 ft, then I' m climbing back to Renan and Cory along the crest.