M'goun summit, early Oct 22, WM account

Up at 4 for an efficient porridge breakfast and a prompt 5am departure. It is cold and breezy, and of course pitch dark, as we cross the plain the start the long climb towards the M'goun ridge at 4,000m+, 1,100m above us.

After a tramp across the broad valley bottom, we start a steady climb up the lower flanks, picking our way between low rounded bushes, taking a diagonal route round to the left before climbing an easier ridge, rather than the direct but very steep slope we come back down much later on. It is tiring nonetheless at this new altitude, although mysteriously beautiful in the torchlight.

The team has clearly eaten something bad. Our support guide can't even start, and it turns out that Hakim is ill, and has to leave us several times for what can only be an unpleasant wrestling with nature.

I am making slow progress behind the rest of the group, labouring steadily towards the grand cirque we are aiming for. A dim red light grows around us, and we see the sheer flanks of the M'goun directly above us as we climb a pleasingly shaped little valley, now glowing in the pre-dawn radiance.

We enter the heart of the great cirque, winding though flattened heaps of moraine to the left wall, where we are going to make the tough section of our climb to the high ridge. We start passing snow patches, then are well above them. It is an endless, dreary slog for me, but Paul kindly follows a couple of paces behind, so I don't feel too badly about my slow pace.

We eventually reach Bill and Lucy for a snack and rest in a small hollow at the top of the slope, at the point where it becomes a very broken steady slope up around the base of a peak to the outside of a huge cirque in the high M'goun ridge, with elegant little streaks of snow at its base and around its sides. I'm shattered. A 20 minute traverse across a very steep shale slope gets us to the high ridge at its head – and a freezing breeze and a vast view southward across receding lower slopes towards the Jebel Sahro range and a dry Sahara haze. To our left is the glory of the long, undulating high M'goun summit ridge, which starts wide and rocky until it reaches a minor peak, then becomes a narrow, steadily curving spine, to our left dropping sheer into the vast northern cirques and falling as long and steep shale slopes to the dry lower slopes to our right. It is gorgeous and thrilling. We hit it at around 4,000m and the summit is 4,071m. It is some (5km ] of walking heaven.

After a pause to drink it all in, we start the trudge to the summit, Paul now whizzing off ahead with the others. This is easy walking at first, maybe 1.5km steadily downhill to a col. After that, it is a short, steep and to me painful climb to a minor summit and a brief lunch together in a small corner of shelter round the back.

We are now on the main continuous high ridge, which can only be called glorious, although the altitude has got to me and enjoyment has to be worked on. After maybe half an hour of this superb walking atop the now narrow ridge, Hakim the guide and I meet Paul, who is heading back our way. He has been hit hard by the altitude and is struggling to breathe, to my surprise as he is such a strong walker, although I recall that he had issues in Mustang as well. He is very forceful about the need to head back, and I do not remonstrate. I carry on, then call Hakim and say that he should head back and keep an eye on Paul. I will try to marshal the forward troops.

 I head on towards the summit, then have a rethink. Bill and Lucy are nearly at the summit, and I have sent Hakim back after Paul. If I go on to the summit, we will end up even more strung out and I will be well at the back and totally on my own in this freezing wind. If something went wrong, it could easily end very badly. I take the sensible but really boring option, and turn back, reducing the future distance between us all. I've left it late to put on my thick windproof top layer, and am really quite cold. Fool.

The return walk is lovely but hard work (and it is a shame to know you are not enjoying the extraordinary surroundings as much as they deserve), back along the amazing ridge, traversing back down round the steep top of the first high cirque, and back across the broken slope to the hollow at the top of the cirque we climbed up. We are together now, Lucy and Bill having caught me up, and we scan the grand wastes below us for the red dot that would be Paul. But there is no sign. We labour down the long slope back into the cirque, and across the heaps at its base and out to the outer slopes, with their huge views across the Tarkeddit plateau. Gorgeous.

A final uncomfortable slog down a long and very steep slope gets us to the wide valley bottom and a trudge back to the refuge at around 3:00 PM. What a day.

Paul is safe and sounds, having felt a lot better as soon as he was down into the ascent cirque. Such are the effects of altitude.

We have an excited and happy lunch, then a luxurious afternoon kip. My legs are surprisingly OK after a demanding 10 hour walk.

A cheerful supper, then we somehow play a good game of Scrabble in the mess tent.

By William Mackesy ()