Two new routes completed by an all-female team in the Remote Pamirs

Olga Lukashenko said:

For a long time, I had been pursuing the idea of climbing the north face of the awe-inspiring north face of the mighty Sabah, the dominant peak of the Ashat Wall. Over my lifetime, I’ve made plenty of brilliant blunders, and I count myself lucky that I didn’t add this one to the list. We wisely chose not to tackle that colossal, far-from-monolithic Sabakh, which constantly sheds avalanches and rocks, and instead opted for the challenging yet more life friendly West Parus and Argo. The excitement soared even higher when I discovered that only elite male teams had previously dared to tackle it, with no female climbers having attempted the ascent.

West Parus (ED-, 28 pitches, 1460m length, 1150m elevation gain, 6c, M3, A2).

When we arrived in the valley, the mountains were buried under fresh, heavy snowfall. For two days, we waited patiently, giving the face time to shed its new mantle of snow. To acclimatize and warm up, we decided to draw a nice, logical line up a giant dihedral of the “rocky” West Parus.  The terrain looked promising, with beautiful rock climbing pitches involving friction climbing. We were confidently making progress, but it soon became clear that our so-called “rocky” Parus wasn’t as rocky as advertised. The final sections were packed with snow and ice, which obviously meant mixed climbing. Without tools or crampons (which we simply didn’t bring with us from BC), I found myself climbing ice and mixed terrain with a rock hammer for the first time ever, occasionally using it to chop steps. This was either incredibly innovative climbing or nod to the early climbing trailblazers, but definitely not a lack of planning or foresight. I’m not sure I’m keen to repeat it, but hey, it was certainly an interesting experience! We bivouacked once midway up the wall (sitting on our packs and neatly laying out the rope to provide as much cover from the ground as possible) and once near the summit.

Argo (ED, 29 pitches, 1250m length, 950m elevation gain, 7b, M5, А3+)

We kicked off through an ice gully, but by day five, when we were rappelling down, it had completely melted away. The warm temperatures made the ice conditions unstable, with entire sections of rock and ice breaking off without warning. With everything so sketchy, I opted for not very steep but technical mixed climbing, even though the ice gullies would’ve been quicker and easier. The three screws I’d placed in the rotten, spring ice were just for my own sanity. Nevertheless, we managed to climb the first 500 meters of vertical gain—nearly half the route—quite quickly, completing it in one day.

The second half of the wall became significantly steeper. The main challenges? Oh, just slippery, ice-filled cracks, loose rock, rockfall hazards, and weather that seemed to think it was auditioning for a disaster movie—constant thunderstorms, hail, and snow kept us on our toes. To top it off, we had to haul heavy equipment up the mountain, which turned out to be a real endurance test we somehow miraculously passed. And let’s not forget the well-worn portaledge that flatly refused to cooperate, and was clearly designed to test our willpower and sense of humor. Otherwise, watching us wrestle to assemble it for two hours daily would have been unbearable.

The following day, with a storm and poor weather forecast, our plan was to ride out the storm but still make some progress. While my two climbing partners battled through a few pitches, the sky darkened and hail and snow began. I remained in the portaledge, feeling a pang of jealousy. I ate everything I could reach and kept rolling from side to side to appear occupied.

The next two days of climbing were intense, pushing us to 7b in french grades. Nastya tackled an incredible frozen chimney with fearless precision. Dasha encountered a stunning crack stretching several pitches, which ideally required a #6 Camalot, but with only a #4 in our gear, every placement turned into a thrilling exercise in creativity. I faced a demanding aid section up to A3+, characterized by vertical, disconnected blocks. In these sections, removing a single piece of protection could trigger a cascade of failures and even damage the rope. We were immensely relieved to have navigated what could have been an insurmountable obstacle. As Mark Twight famously said, “It doesn’t have to be fun to be fun.

Each step brought us closer to our long-awaited bivy on the shoulder, and the excitement was palpable. We had decided to go light for the summit push, leaving behind the portaledge, sleeping bags, and other gear at the bivy. The route featured several pitches of enjoyable climbing, pillars of granite, interspersed with some simul-climbing. After four more pitches, we finally reached the summit.

Rappelling down went smoothly! The rope didn’t get stuck even once. There were many free-hanging descents, which, with heavy backpacks, turned into excellent exercises for the core and back muscles.

On the last pitch during our descent, we unclipped the portaledge and watched as it limply bounced and rolled down the slope. The three of us relished the spectacle, savoring the blissful moment of sweet revenge!

Delighted yet physically drained, and recalling our lively debates—such as whether to rappel down on the first day or to ambitiously aim for the summit first—we finally did it! After five intense days (four climbing up and one descending), we established this beautiful, daring new route on this challenging and demanding north wall.

Returning to base camp after five days on the Ashat Wall felt like coming back after months. It had been such an epic adventure. I have no doubt that these are landmark new routes for the three of us, and we’ll remember this trip as a significant turning point for a long time to come. As for where this turning point will lead us, well, we’ll see.