On a high-pass day, I am never really deciding whether the pass is simply “safe.” I am deciding whether this group should cross this pass, in these conditions, with enough time and reserve to deal with what comes after the top.
That means looking at much more than the weather forecast. Snow, wind, temperature and visibility all matter, but so do altitude, fatigue, the pace of the group, the descent and the point at which turning around is still straightforward. A pass another team crossed yesterday may still be the wrong decision for us today.
My aim is not to remove every risk. That is quite impossible in the mountains.
It is to keep enough margin that if someone slows down, the snow is worse than expected, the weather changes or the descent takes longer than planned, we still have a good option left.
Yesterday’s crossing is information, not permission
Recent information can be very useful before a high-pass day. That is an undeniable fact.
But in my experience, asking “Is the pass okay?” is not quite as useful as it seems. The answer you get generally lacks the important details that would otherwise be incredibly detailed if asked right, precise question. But, of course, it also depends upon who you ask too.
A useful report from someone who has just come from the other side is much more specific: where did the snow become difficult, was the descent icy, when did the wind increase, did anyone turn around, and was the far side harder than the approach? Even knowing that people needed traction tells you more than simply hearing that they crossed.
But regardless of how much detail you might have got from your enquiry, yesterday’s answer cannot simply be carried into today.
Snow may have fallen overnight. Wind may have shifted existing snow onto one side of the ridge. A soft surface may have frozen hard. Cloud can remove the visibility that made route-finding straightforward the previous afternoon.
And the people who crossed yesterday may not have moved at our speed or dealt with the same physical condition.
Their information can definitely aid to our planning and preparation, but I would hardly decide to cross the pass simply because a group crossed it the other day.
I want to know what the mountain has done
A forecast, though it matters and I look into it, it does not tell me everything I need to know.
To me, before and during the crossing, what matters is how conditions are changing. Has new snow fallen? Has wind been moving it? Has yesterday’s softer snow frozen overnight? Is the sun beginning to affect the surface? Is visibility improving, or starting to disappear?
The amount of snow alone can be misleading.
A shallow layer of loose snow over rocks is one problem. Snow that has been moved by wind and deposited onto a slope is another. A little fresh snow hiding hard ice underneath creates a different problem again.
That is why the route description itself only gets me so far.
A section that is normally straightforward can become much more serious if the surface is hard enough that a slip would have consequences. Conditions can change the character of a route without changing anything about its name or grade.
The group is part of the route decision
By the time I am thinking seriously about committing to a pass, several things are already connected.
Yes, the conditions matter, but so do the group, the time we are making, what waits on the other side and how easy it would still be to turn around.
A slower group uses more daylight. More time on the mountain means more exposure to changing weather. A harder descent makes fatigue more important. Poor visibility makes navigation and retreat harder at the same time.
That is why it is not enough just to ask, “Are you okay?”
More often than not, people want to continue. They may have slept badly, lost their appetite or feel weaker than usual but still say they are fine because this is the day they have been waiting for.
I personally think that looking into their behaviour can tell you more than their answer.
Someone taking much longer to get ready, moving differently from the previous day, struggling to eat, recovering poorly after short efforts or becoming unusually quiet should all deserve attention from the guide.
At high altitude, those changes are incredibly important. If somebody is becoming more unwell, the fact that the pass is on the itinerary does not make further ascent sensible.
There is also a practical point that guidebook timings often hide: the crossing time that matters is the crossing time of the actual group.
If the guidebook says seven hours but today’s group needs ten, that changes the day. Those extra hours may mean softer snow, stronger wind, approaching cloud, a descent in fading light or less time to retreat.
The far side can decide whether I start
Travelers understandably look toward the top of a pass.
A guide has to think beyond it.
The group may reach the saddle and still have the harder part of the day ahead. The descent may be steeper, icier, rougher or simply much longer than expected.
So the important questions continue beyond the top: What is the descent like? Is any of it shaded and likely to hold ice? How far is the next shelter? How tired will everyone be by the time they begin going down? If somebody develops a problem after the pass, is continuing easier than returning?
On a crossing such as Larkya La, reaching the pass is not the end of the day’s commitment. The descent toward Bimthang is part of the decision made much earlier.
So I do not judge the day only by whether the group can reach its highest point.
If we reach the pass tired, are we still strong enough for what comes next?
That question can decide whether starting is sensible at all.
Why an early start does not automatically mean safer conditions
There is a reason high-pass days often begin in darkness.
Starting early can give a group more daylight, more time for the descent and more room to turn around. It can also help avoid some afternoon weather or warming-related problems.
But early morning can bring its own difficulties.
Snow that softened during the previous day may have frozen hard overnight. A surface that was easy to walk on in the afternoon can become much less forgiving before sunrise.
Later, warming may create a different problem.
So there is no single “correct” departure time that applies to every pass and every day. The useful question is when the important hazards are likely to be most manageable for the group making the crossing.
A high-pass decision has to be made more than once
Leaving the lodge is not the end of the decision.
The situation further up can change, and so does our decision in response to it.
The group may be slower than expected. The wind can strengthen and visibility may begin to close in. The descent may look different from the reports received the day before.
There are also points where turning around is still fairly simple, and later points where the route becomes much more committing.
That is why a plan has to be allowed to change when the evidence changes.
Changing the decision is not the same as failing to follow the plan. Sometimes it means the plan is working as it should.
The difficult decisions often come before anything looks dramatic
Sometimes there is one clear reason to stop.
A person becomes seriously unwell. Visibility disappears. There are obvious signs of unstable snow. The surface requires skills the group does not have. There is no longer enough time to complete the descent sensibly.
But many difficult decisions are not like that.
Perhaps the group left later than planned. One person is slower than the day before. There is more snow than expected. The wind is beginning to increase. Cloud is moving over the route.
Maybe none of those things would stop the crossing on its own.
Together, they may be enough.
People often expect a dramatic reason for turning around, but the safer decision may come when several manageable problems start depending on everything else going perfectly.
That is usually the point to act before the situation becomes more difficult.
Wanting to cross can make the evidence harder to hear
There is also pressure that has nothing to do with weather or snow.
People want to cross.
Perhaps the pass is the main objective of the trek. There may be accommodation booked on the other side. Another group may have just continued. Someone may have travelled a long way specifically for this route.
Those are understandable pressures. But they do not change the conditions.
The closer we get to an objective, the easier it becomes to find reasons to keep going.
So I have to be able to ask:
Are we continuing because the conditions still support the decision, or because we badly want the answer to be yes?
Sometimes the professional decision is to disappoint the itinerary.
Turning around does not always mean the original decision was wrong
If we leave in reasonable conditions and turn around later, that does not automatically mean we should never have started.
We may simply know more than we did at breakfast.
The weather may have changed. The group may have moved more slowly than expected. Snow conditions may be different higher up. Visibility may have deteriorated.
What matters is that the decision was still open when that new information appeared.
For me, that is the heart of deciding whether to cross a high pass.
I am not trying to prove that the pass can be crossed. I am trying to make sure that, for as long as possible, we still have a sensible choice when conditions give us a reason to reconsider.