Summit Hunters

The Karakoram is addictive. Anyone who has flown just once in this unique mountain arena wants to do it again. So Tom de Dorlodot returned to this remote part of the earth for the seventh time. It is a place of extremes – made for pilots who want to break records and discover new routes. For his latest project Tom was able to persuade multiple acro world champion Horacio Llorens as well as top pilot Ramon Morillas to come along. The highlight of the expedition was to be an overflight of 8,611 metre high K2. The current world record was set in 2021 on the neighbouring Broad Peak. At that time, Antoine Girard had reached 8,407 metres.

“Flying at altitude is a complete discipline in itself,” says Tom, “because above 7,500 metres the thermals usually stop, and then you need high altitude wind to soar dynamically over the peaks. If the wind is too strong, there's a danger on K2 that it will blow you to China. A no-go. If it's too weak, you can't get up.” Because of the low air density at high altitude, the trim speed of the paraglider is more than 50 km/h.

The Karakoram region has almost nothing but superlatives to offer: Not only the highest concentration of highest peaks, but also probably the largest valley glacier in the world. “The dimensions of the Baltoro Glacier are unimaginable. Only from the air do you get an idea of its size,” says Tom. "The main glacier is over 60 km long. It's all crevasses, séracs and ice blocks as big as houses. Land here? Out of the question! Our approach route to K2 runs along Baltoro. It is the entrance ticket to the second highest mountain in the world."

The six-man team (three pilots, two guides, one cook) set up their base camp in Paiju at 3,370 metres, a little below the final slopes of the Baltoro ice. Once installed, their task was to find a suitable launch site. “Almost impossible – everywhere is steep, rocky and partly overgrown,” Tom recalls. So the three pilots first climbed up the scree for an hour and a half. “About 800 metres above our base camp we found what we were looking for. But we had to clear away rocks and bushes. Eventually, however, In the end it almost looked like an official launch site.”

The pilots got off to a perfect start: blue skies, reliable, friendly thermals up to 7 m/s. “The first ten days were a gift. We were able to fly day after day and get to know the area. We checked out every thermal on the 40 km or so way to K2 and went through the options,” says Tom. By the third day of flying the pilots had established the line to K2 and soared on its flanks. At 7,200 m, however, it was over. There was no high altitude wind to carry the record hunters up the flanks to the summit.

On their other four approaches to K2, the pilots climbed as high as 7,500 metres. “To reach such heights after take-off sometimes takes less than half an hour. This altitude pushes your body to the limit. It can't acclimatise fast enough. We were on oxygen for that reason.” Tom knows what a sudden blackout feels like: “It's happened to me twice before. That's why we wanted to play it safe here.”

The approach to K2 became their daily commute: it led over seven side valleys or side glaciers to Concordia, the place where the Baltoro and GodwinAusten glaciers meet. “We felt like the explorers of old,” says Tom, “discovering new flying territory. We crossed numerous completely unexplored areas and flew over peaks that had never been climbed before.” The pilots were stunned when they suddenly saw an eagle circling on the flanks of K2. “Wow! The king of the skies; at over 7,000 metres. For a while we competed with him. Then he turned off towards China. We had to decline the invitation...”

Safety first. That was the motto for all flights. The impassability of the terrain and the huge distances back to camp effectively ruled out a landing. Nevertheless, it happened once: on a return flight from K2, Ramon missed a thermal connection. His final option: landing at the base camp of Broad Peak at 4,900 metres. The alpinists took him in for the night. Then it was back to Paiju on foot: two and a half arduous days, over 12 hours' mountain hike each day

After the adrenaline rush of the first ten days of flying came the bad weather clouds, and finally the rain. But the pilot team – by now only Tom and Horacio – were not discouraged: “We stuck it out for a week, then we descended to the next village in a day's walk, eventually chatting with our families again and eating fresh fruit!” Eventually the sky cleared up again and there was good news: “Moderate high-altitude winds with fine weather were forecast for the coming days. We sensed one last chance,” Tom reports.

When Tom and Horacio looked out of the tent at 6 am on 19 July they knew: this is the day. They packed equipment and some provisions: a hard-boiled egg and a boiled potato – their only remaining supplies. Around noon they took off in the direction of K2. The route led past the imposing Trango Towers, and because conditions were so good, they headed directly for the Muztagh Tower (7,273 metres). “That was a first.”

A little later, the team reached K2. “It was our fifth and last attempt. Again we were able to circle up to about 7,500 metres. There was a wind of 15 km/h up there, but this was just not enough for us to gain altitude by soaring the mountain side. Sure, we were a bit frustrated: the perfect day, the right wind, we were in the right place – but we just lacked that last bit of luck.”

OK, we thought, let's fly on to the next eight-thousander.” The two pilots flew over the Baltoro Glacier to Broad Peak, 10 km away. By now it was late afternoon. The wind didn't play ball at Broad Peak either and at 7,500 climbing was over. So we went straight on to Gasherbrum IV, the next eightthousander. “Gasherbrum is perfectly aligned for the wind, but here, too, we didn't manage to gain height in the dynamic updraught.”

The valleys were already in shadow. It was time to turn back. “Back at Broad Peak, we heard a call for help on the radio. An alpinist was missing on Broad Peak. We managed to locate first the backpack and then the dead climber from the air. We radioed the sad news back to the expedition. What will happen to his family? What does this mean for his friends? The experience made us think a lot. And we realised again how vulnerable we humans are in this inhospitable region.”

Looking back, Tom summarises the Grand Slam day as follows: “When we landed exactly ten metres from our tent after a little over seven hours of flight, we were very proud and happy, despite the initial frustration at K2. We were at 7,550 metres, had flown to four of the highest peaks and opened up new routes in the process. We felt safe and good at all times! What a privilege to live such an adventure!”

Tom's record-breaking project is not off the table: “Of course, if you take on big challenges, you have to accept disappointments. But our expedition was a success even so: the pictures and stories we bring home are simply incredible. We will return. The people here have grown close to my heart. The Karakoram is a paradise. And we were the only pilots in it for a month.” By the way: Tom's son's middle name is Karakorum.