The snow leopard of Limassol

One in four attempts on the K2 mountain end in death. And just 500 people have reached the summit! ALIX NORMAN meets the only mountaineer from Cyprus who has ever conquered the planet’s cruellest peak

“You know how many people have climbed Everest?” asks Evgenios Staroselskiy. “Over 10,000! But do you know how many people have made it to the summit of K2? Just 500…”

The mountaineer’s crucible, K2 is the second highest peak in the world. Soaring high above the Karakoram Range, close to the borders of Pakistan and China, it’s just 230 metres shorter than Everest itself. But in mountaineering circles, it’s revered as the far more challenging climb – the unyielding titan to Everest’s gentle giant, a fearsome adversary that demands every ounce of a climber’s courage and skill.

Most of those who begin the climb turn back. And many have met a cruel end on its treacherous ice fields and razor-thin peaks.

“One in four attempts on K2 end in death,” reveals Evgenios, a Ukrainian-born Cypriot citizen who has lived in Limassol for over a decade. “This ‘Savage Mountain’ has the highest fatality rate of any ascent in the world. Even elite climbers, those who have scaled the highest, hardest peaks in the world, balk at K2. And many who arrive at the foot find they’re stymied by the conditions: K2 is notorious for its cruelly unpredictable weather; many wait weeks for a weather window that never comes…”

Evgenios himself was lucky. Although the entire trip to and from Cyprus took almost two months, the wait for the weather window was a mere five days. “We began on June 11, flying to Islamabad, then on to Scardou and Ascole from where we made our way to the Base Camp, at 4,930 metres, on June 22. Three weeks of acclimatisation followed, and then began the wait…

“That is the hardest part,” says Evgenios. “You are ready, you have trained and prepared for years. You have all the costly equipment. You have sponsors who are relying on you to achieve your goal. And you have people at home who are supporting your journey….”

Already a highly accomplished climber (since the age of 20, he’s climbed more than 120 mountains, and earned the title of ‘Snow Leopard’ for his ascent of 13 peaks over 7,000 metres in height), 61-year-old Evgenios had spent the previous months training with a device that recreates high-altitude, sleeping each night in a tent that simulates the conditions at 6,000 metres. He’d attracted a host of local sponsors, including Creative Universe Foundation, Cyprus Duty Free, the National Olympic Committee, CHOMP, and Pavlos Georgiades). And worked hard to foster the positive thinking that’s the hallmark of successful mountaineers.

“But, when the wait comes, it is the hardest thing,” says the man of action. “You sit. And you wait. You wait for the weather window to open. And you start to think. You begin to wonder if you will ever return from the mountain…”

On July 26, the winds were so strong that even the hardy team of Sherpas who accompanied Evgenios’ group (two other experienced climbers from Bulgaria and Ecuador, and three Nepalese Sherpas) were unable to pitch the tents.

“All of us had already climbed the world’s most challenging peaks. We were all extremely prepared. But K2 cannot be compared to any other mountain. It is the most unpredictable, harshest ascent in the world; the last of the planet’s peaks to be conquered. Among mountaineers, K2 is known as the ‘King of Mountains’ and the ‘Fierce Arena’!”

As the winds raged, Evgenios and co began to wonder if they would ever see the summit. “Standing was impossible; we were crawling like blind ants on a pyramid. But then – just as things were at their very worst – the weather broke…”

Evgenios’ group stormed the summit. “It was a huge risk,” he recalls. “With no internet, no phones, you rely on your ‘mountain sense’. With every step, you wonder if the weather will hold. With every screaming muscle, you hope against hope that you will make it – that you will be amongst the 500 who have reached the very top of the world…”

Other hopefuls were also using this brief weather window to make their final climb. “Most changed their minds and turned back; I later heard that a young Pakistani had died during his attempt, tragically plunging to his death on the Serak ice bottleneck just 400 metres short of the summit. But we pushed on. There were two avalanches as we closed on our goal, but they didn’t stop us. We had come so far, tried so hard…”

On July 27 at 13:15 local time, Evgenios stood atop K2. “It was glorious! For a brief moment, the clouds lifted and the entire word was at our feet, row upon row of peaks hazing into the highest sky. But as soon as it had begun, the weather window ended. We only had time for a few photos with our flags, and the descent was on.”

Raising the flag of Cyprus on the peak of K2 was, says Evgenios, one of the proudest moments of his life. “Every mountain I have climbed, every summit I have reached, I raise the national flag. I moved to Cyprus from Kiev in 2011; now, this island is my home. And it holds a very special place in my heart.”

Returning home took Evgenios another week, much of which was spent on the descent. “On our way down, the weather worsened. The winds were even stronger, the snowfall blinding. But we made it,” he grins. “We made it! And, on August 5, when I was welcomed at the airport by my family and friends, I was just happy to be home.

“They say, ‘It’s not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves’,” he concludes. “But I think I still have more of myself to conquer. For now, I can relax, rest, enjoy the sun. But soon, I will start thinking of the next challenge; the next mountain. Over the past few years, I have placed the flag of Cyprus on six of the ‘Seven Summits’, the highest peaks on each continent. Only Carstensz Pyramid in Oceania remains. Soon,” he says, his eyes drifting to the horizon. “Soon…”