Original subtitles

The first ski descent of K2 would be a monumental event.

No one has yet proven that it's possible,

that it could be done without dying.

To do it without using any supplemental oxygen

seems pretty unachievable.

Andrzej, do you copy?

- What's up? - Where are you?

Approaching Camp 4. Zero visibility.

I can't ski in these conditions.

You need to get the f**k out of there,

a cold front is coming, it'll be a massacre.

Andrzej, you need to make a decision.

I'm going down.

There is something about K2

that makes your heart kind of skip a beat.

I think about it all the time. It's this beautiful,

incredible mountain that just draws you in.

Even for real, core, authentic climbers

this is the dream mountain, the hardest one.

K2 is an incredibly...

scary mountain.

There have been so many accidents, so many fatalities.

One in four people that have climbed K2 don't come back.

I've been a professional climber and skier for decades now,

but I had never been to K2 until last year

and there is no reason I would ever go there again.

Andrzej definitely came out of nowhere.

I just remember hearing his name

and I've been in this sport for twenty years

and I've never heard of Andrzej.

When I heard that Andrzej was headed to K2,

I didn't know much about him

and I was curious.

During these expeditions you meet many climbers.

Over the years, accidents occur.

Sometimes to

remarkable athletes.

I followed his progress in 2010.

I was with him

when he attempted a K2 ski descent.

It was incredible for me that he was skiing up there.

There were just two people. It was foggy.

Nobody really knows what happened. There were only assumptions.

We think he fell off with a piece of rock

while placing his piton.

Fredrick Ericsson was one of the best extreme skiers

and also a great climber.

It's a reminder of the dangers you face

when climbing the walls of K2.

It makes you question

what you are doing.

Expedition log, July 6th.

Before climbing K2, my priority is to acclimatize.

I chose Gasherbrum II,

an 8000 meter peak, a day's trek from K2.

After a few days it's pretty clear.

The weather's not going to cooperate.

I must think of a new plan.

We couldn't go up this morning because of the weather.

If we climbed up...

and got snowed in, it would be sh*t.

It's not that easy.

A meter of snow at the base is not common.

crevasse, crack...

One of the challenges

of 8,000 meter peak climbing is you really can't skip steps

and acclimatization is absolutely essential.

If you want to do it without supplemental oxygen,

that takes more acclimatization.

If weather or bad conditions make it impossible to acclimatize well,

then that makes summit push much more dangerous

and much more difficult.

Bartek, can you help me with the packing?

Stop filming. It's unnecessary.

What's the definition of adventure?

Adventure only begins when the best laid plans all go wrong.

Walking up the Baltoro Glacier is super complicated.

It can be intimidating.

It can be really awe-inspiring.

You're walking on the rocks, you walk on the ice. It's hard.

There's what I would call more popular 8,000 meter peaks

that have much easier access and K2 is not one of them.

This isn't my first K2 attempt.

In 2017, I had an expedition here.

A few weeks in, the weather worsened.

I had to make a decision.

To carry on to the summit or turn around.

I gave up.

The greatest lessons come from failures.

You've clearly found some sort of limit

to what you're trying to do,

but it gives you an opportunity to examine that limit.

I also did not want

to make it a success at any price.

All the people who come to the mountains

they've learned to be okay with failure

and still, to try,

still to take steps,

still to dream big,

even though a lot of times it doesn't work out.

I got a descent line from that trip.

Based on my observations, it was possible.

It was only a matter of time before I'd return to K2.

To ski from the top without taking my skis off,

I had to combine several routes.

From the top, I had to descend towards the shoulder

to get out of the death zone as soon as possible.

At this altitude the mind is not fully functioning

and your body starts to shut down.

Then I head south to ski down

through a huge glacial bowl to join the Cesen route.

This is a very risky place.

Avalanches are common here.

From there, through Camp 3,

I reach the infamous Messner Traverse.

A very difficult section.

It's a narrow ridge with deep chasms on either side.

Not many people have climbed that way,

and nobody has skied down that way.

This is the only route

that will allow me to descend the Polish route,

and on to the base of K2.

There are many hidden cliffs and chasms waiting for me.

A wrong turn and I fall several hundred meters.

My team help me to plan the route.

I choose people I know and like.

After all, we spend time together. It's not a punishment.

The atmosphere is crucial.

We may not succeed, but since we are here for a month,

it's important to have fun and make good memories.

There's no expedition leader.

We manage somehow.

There's Janusz Gołąb, our safety support.

We'll go down and rest for a day. It's not far.

I mean, it's far, but...

Relax, Janusz, we're tough as hell. Remember?

Marek Ogień, the photographer.

It's the wrong radio.

My younger brother, the drone operator.

You should start a fan page.

I did.

1500 new likes.

The terrain is very complicated.

You need to "read" the mountain wall.

You need all the data.

The drone is crucial

to help see something

without having to go there.

There have been expeditions that have used drones before.

But nobody had succeeded

in getting a drone above an eight-thousander.

I changed the drone's software, to remove the height restrictions

and increased its speed.

You want to use everything in your advantage to achieve your goal.

There has been sort of a generational shift

in the use of technology

to assist in very difficult objectives in the mountains.

I'm interested in this slope, even from a distance.

Can you approach it from the other side?

Right, to the bowl, and left.

My family supports me.

I know not everyone has this.

Andrzej B is saving his brother's feet.

Bartek washed all his socks and forgot to leave one pair.

His brother came to the rescue with fluffy slippers...

- And feet warmers. - That's right.

Having my little brother here means everything.

When you have ten siblings

looking out for each other comes naturally.

I grew up in a village called Łętownia,

between Krakow and Zakopane.

Everything was about the farm run by our parents.

We supported and helped them.

I had a big family. Everybody wanted to have something to call their own.

My first skis were really long. 190 cm to 2 m long.

I traded my ping pong bats and my pocket knife for them.

I remember cutting them in half just to make them useable.

It was the deal of a lifetime now that you look at it.

Grzegorz showed me the Tatra Mountains

and the things that you could do there.

Naturally, it rubbed off on Andrzej.

I didn't really teach him specifics,

he just showed up and did what I did.

He got so into it that he just ran with it.

A difficult moment came for me

and even more so for Andrzej.

At 15, I moved out

and tried to make it on my own.

I apologized to him and told him he'd have to manage

I can see now that this motivated him even further.

Whenever he visited I was out and about.

I gave him the equipment I used in competitions.

He would ski-tour all day.

There were many of us in our house,

so training provided a personal space

where I could go to find peace of mind.

I liked it so much, the next time I ski toured, it was in a competition.

This sport was for me.

So I trained every day in the village.

July 9th.

Meter by meter we're exploring the slopes of K2.

We had to mark a descent line from the top.

When we reached K2 we planned to take the Basque route

until it intersects the Abruzzi route

at the shoulder of K2 at 7800 meters.

The descent line was different.

There aren't real experts to instruct you,

to tell you what's possible and what's impossible.

This is not how it works.

You learn these things by yourself.

A chef from a neighboring expedition came to our base.

He said he saw a person through binoculars.

It turned out to be a climber in a place he definitely shouldn't be.

The climber was extremely exhausted,

hanging on to his ice axes above a two kilometer crevasse.

There are no rescue services here. You need to help each other.

Bartek flew there with a drone.

I didn't expect the drone to be so helpful.

I tweaked the engine speed parameters.

The air is thinner there so the engine has to work harder.

The vertical wall, on the left there is a range covered with snow.

It's completely obvious.

If someone calls for help, we set our goal aside.

It turned out that one of the three climbers had got lost.

Can you see him?

Yes.

We came up with an idea. To use the drone to guide him.

Bartek took a clever approach

and flew the drone about four meters back and forth.

As soon as the man moved, he flew a bit further.

As a result, the climber started following it.

He realized that someone can see him.

He was in a very poor state, extremely tired.

But he got himself out of there in a few hours.

It was ground-breaking, Bartek did an amazing job.

I have a large family that helps each other out.

So we know when someone needs help.

Unbelievable pride.

I was proud of my brothers for helping.

They proved a sense of maturity towards the mountains.

They know that nothing comes before a life.

I think this is maybe the next big step in mountaineering

and some people will like it and some people will hate it.

Drones are going to add a lot of safety and information

to our climbing and skiing.

The time came for Andrzej to address the Messner Traverse.

Where the Basque route intersects the Polish line.

For me it was the only way

to complete a full descent.

I didn't know if it's possible to ski down this route.

I planned to go up the Cesen route, straight to Camp 3.

Then, to the Polish route via the Messner Traverse.

It was all a big unknown.

Is Janusz there?

Hey, Andrzej.

I'm here. What's up? You're good? Safe and sound?

I'm good, it's f**king cold,

but I'm sure it's worse where you are.

Tomorrow I want to attempt the Messner Traverse.

Even Reinhold Messner didn't get through his own route.

He was weary of this place.

I knew no one had ever been there before.

Those seracs are shiny.

It hurts to look at them. Sometimes they break off.

You see avalanches with ice, a lot of snow and rocks.

We didn't know if a full descent

on skis was even possible...

that he could connect the traverse and Polish route

without removing his skis.

I'm sure all this combined made for the most difficult descent on Earth.

I hope you're already fed and well-rested.

Be careful, Andrzej.

My journey in alpine skiing

began when I was 17 years old.

I took part in competitions.

As a junior, he wasn't allowed on longer routes.

But after completing the junior competition,

he would sneak in to the senior competition,

and sometimes beat them.

I wanted to compete with the best.

He is determined and when he comes up with an idea,

he works hard and doesn't give up.

He began representing Poland at ski touring events.

He took part in the World Championships

and other big ski alpine events.

If you're going to compete, you may as well win.

It was difficult to maintain this high level

without financial support.

We took photos of the French team's equipment

and looked for people who could sew us the same suits.

Just when the sport was about

to be accepted into the Olympics,

an avalanche occurred.

Around a dozen people were buried, including me.

The pressure is so great, it tears off your clothes.

It's not like you can make a hole. You can't even move your finger.

Just when I was losing consciousness,

they quickly dug me out.

Ultimately, I think this prevented

the sport's inclusion at the Olympics.

It was a turning point for me. I stopped competing.

I didn't really know what I would do.

If I were to commit to the mountains, I'd have to do it on my own way.

July 12th.

After a night spent above 7000 meters

I prepare the most dangerous part of my route.

Horror. It's a dangerous place.

Above the traverse hangs a 300 meter serac.

You never know if a huge avalanche will occur.

It's very steep. Around 75 degrees.

Here, the anchor points are key.

You need enough rope to reach the second point.

And a clear path down

when you run out.

When I'm afraid... it means I'm not prepared...

I don't know what to expect... I'm not safe.

The steeper terrain you're in,

the harder it is to stop yourself.

So you really have to stay on your edges and be very controlled.

You make one mistake, you lose an edge, and you're gone.

He went down through a narrow couloir on the left.

He's going out of vision.

When you're executing something for the first time

a human has ever done it,

that's a mental barrier that has been literally taken down.

You move the line, you know.

What was possible used to be here, and now it's here.

It was the first time I believed the route made sense.

Breakfast was waiting. I could take a shower.

Every return to base camp is a positive one.

it's warm, pleasant, and calm.

July 15th.

Before the summit push I have to acclimatize at 8000 meters.

I'm heading up the mountain again.

On the climb up, I'm always planning my ski down.

I'm on the Abruzzi route. That was my idea for acclimatization.

I set off at 5 am.

A long descent ahead of me.

I thought it would be better to set off early without skis

not to risk anything.

The Abruzzi route is well-prepared.

I don't want to miss the best window

for the summit push.

In 2010

I took part in a race up Mount Elbrus.

There were several dozen competitors from all over the world.

He wasn't used to such altitudes, and all of a sudden he's at 5600.

Even though I had travelled a lot to the Alps,

I had never been above 4500 meters.

I managed to beat the judges

before they even made it to the finish line.

They thought it was impossible to get there so fast.

Come on, come on!

I had to repeat the run across the finish line

in order for them to capture it on camera.

Here's our winner.

Drinking carbs and proteins.

As a result,

mountaineers wanted me...

to join their expeditions.

I joined national expeditions

on two eight-thousanders, Manaslu and Lhotse,

on the condition that I could take my skis

to see if skiing that high was possible.

After taking part in two expeditions

I realized this wasn't for me,

and that I have to do it my own way.

Dreams can lead you to unexpected places.

Mine led me to K2.

July 15th, 7pm.

The weather is perfect for a summit push

but it can turn at any moment.

My summit window is rapidly closing.

I must be prepared for the final summit push.

Just when I had successfully acclimatized

we heard about our friend's accident.

They wanted to mark a new route at Broad Peak.

A member of the group was injured by a falling piece of ice.

It cut his thigh wide open.

We are at the scene of the accident

so we'll now see if he can walk.

Is he in pain, or is he in shock and feeling nothing?

He's in a lot of pain.

Is it just a cut, or did he injure his joint, bone?

It's a deep cut. I can see his bone.

Large hemorrhage?

Yes.

In the Karakoram

you can't have a guarantee of a rescue

when things go wrong.

The good thing is, in the mountains there is still

like a brotherhood amongst teams,

even competitive teams.

Let us know, we'll try to prepare something.

We quickly organized a rescue.

After three hours, we saw their headlights.

We'd reached them.

I put a pressure dressing over it,

and I splint his leg in case it was broken.

Does anyone have anything to secure it?

Carrying him was the biggest problem.

The terrain is uneven,

everything was moving from side to side.

We got to the base at dawn

and the doctor took care of his leg.

Take care of yourself.

A real western.

A rescue of someone else's life

very much compromises your own personal goals,

your timeline, your health,

but you're called in to rescue,

you're called in to do rescue, and you do it.

July 17th.

We approach the final stage of the expedition.

In a few days we plan to make a summit bid.

I hope nothing gets in our way. Many small things can go wrong.

Now we just wait for the right moment.

Five centimeters of snow in the morning,

three in the afternoon, seventeen at night.

How cloudy is it at 8000 meters?

Let me see.

Base Camp, over. What about the weather?

It's snowing, it's windy also.

Very strong wind and snowing.

What people don't see from the outside...

is the waiting, and there's so much time,

especially on 8,000 meter peaks where you're doing nothing.

You're sitting at base camp and you're looking at the mountain

and calculating,

and trying to figure out the best...

method of attack, and sometimes that method of attack is...

doing nothing.

July 19th.

With every day I wait, my chances dwindle.

I must make a decision. It's now or never.

I had to be focused, pack my backpack.

It was difficult because

I didn't know how many days I was going to spend up there.

Sometimes even one little thing may be crucial for your safety,

or even your life.

Is my snowsuit up there?

I have the thin one here. Will it be enough?

You'll be moving, right?

The weather forecasts aren't 100% accurate.

They have to be assessed on a regular basis.

I decided it was worth a go.

If the weather worsens, I can go back.

This is the start.

Let the K2 summit push begin.

There are certain codes,

certain ethics around how you do something.

And what I really appreciate about Andrzej's style is that,

it's very self-reliant.

He decided not to use oxygen

and he's carrying his skis on his back.

The plan was for Janusz to leave earlier,

and to meet up at Camp 3 We'd make the summit bid together.

We'd take the Cesen route.

Janusz is a remarkable alpinist.

His achievements include summiting Gasherbrum in Winter.

Having him

greatly improved the chances of my success.

Something weird happened that evening

and I had to tell Andrzej about it.

Janusz was in trouble.

He couldn't move.

We contacted the doctors at Broad Peak.

Broad Peak reporting to K2.

Hi, Paweł. Janusz has a problem.

We'll try to put him through, so that you can hear him.

I can't get up.

I wanted to go outside to pee, but I couldn't.

I felt a sharp pain.

My lower back really hurt.

Andrzej had to help me lay down again.

Where is Janusz? At which camp?

At Camp 3, 7000 meters.

Can Janusz go down on his own?

That's the million dollar question.

I can't answer that.

If he can barely walk, he will need someone else's support.

The pain may decrease tomorrow, but it may not.

Time will tell.

Okay, thanks.

It was clear I couldn't make it to the summit.

And we were so close.

I'd spent a day and a half with him.

Here is a person you are very worried about.

It was concerning for Andrzej.

His climbing partner couldn't move.

We got messages of northerly low-pressure fronts headed our way.

It was worrying.

I thought I wouldn't be able to go down

and would be stuck here for a week.

The whole expedition is there for Andrzej to summit,

and suddenly it can all turn upside down...

because he has to help someone.

This is impossible to foresee.

At the base, they had medications for me.

We came up with the idea to use a drone.

We packed Tramal, Paracetamol and a few other things.

The drone will fly up to 7000 meters with medicine.

Before that, the drone was never needed to transport anything.

I didn't know if it could fly with the added weight.

I had to fly above the clouds in order to get to Camp 3.

It was a very difficult flight. Poor conditions...

But I succeeded

To see them use a drone to deliver medicine to a high camp?

That is...

I mean, I'm speechless. Like, it's such a game changer.

I never thought

the drone would be used to save lives

or deliver medication.

Next time we have to send a cow to Camp 3.

I started to feel better.

I wanted to go to the top.

I'd have become one a few people to make it twice.

But I couldn't even roll on one side. I was in a lot of pain.

Janusz has so much experience and knowledge.

Such a person is vital.

I felt lost.

All of a sudden you are really alone

and it's all on you

to decide how you're going to proceed.

That's scary.

When we backed out in 2017

and decided we were not going to make it,

we knew something stayed with Andrzej.

I decided to give it a try.

I would summit alone.

If something is wrong, go back.

What?

If something is wrong, go back.

It's hard for me to imagine

how he could have that mental strength

and physical strength.

He was solo

and that demands a lot of respect.

Solitude isn't a problem for me.

Years of training have prepared me for it.

I'm not scared to be alone in the mountains.

Sport was always a solitary process for me.

I left Camp 4 around 6 am.

The Abruzzi route is a popular route for climbers.

Many were shocked when I passed them

because I showed up out of nowhere

without an oxygen tank.

When your brain starts to not get enough oxygen

it starts to build pressure

and that pressure starts to push on parts of the brain

and makes those parts of the brain not work.

Everyone I've ever seen at those altitudes

without supplemental oxygen are struggling

just to put one foot in front of the other.

I am almost at the top.

I don't have much strength left.

The weather is getting bad.

Your brain isn't aware of how slow you're moving.

Hi, Andrzej. We can hear you at the base.

I'm at the top.

Great, that's awesome!

You get to enjoy the summit but you also have to understand that

the hardest part of your task is still ahead of you.

You can't stay there

for an extended period of time. You have to keep moving.

The clouds are moving fast.

The wind is blowing from the left. Your right, facing us.

I was at the summit for less than half an hour I think.

It is the death zone, your body is dying

but your rational brain knows that

you have this crazy athletic mental requirement

still ahead of you.

Now you have to perform very technical skiing.

I've always skied with oxygen,

to do it without is just a completely different level.

The moment I clicked into my skis

I realized the worst part was ahead.

I think it's clearing up. How are you feeling?

I want to get the f**k out of here.

Get out of there.

I start for the shoulder. I must escape the death zone quickly.

All of a sudden your whole body switches.

You're starting over from scratch, because you're not climbing any more.

You're using different muscles,

you're using different brain waves, different fear pathways.

The first meters down were tough.

The snow was very wet.

I was scared that something would give way.

When you're in the big mountains

in the Himalayas and in the Karakorum,

there is potential from massive avalanches.

Class four, five avalanche that could take out a town.

You just don't know what's going to happen.

It's a very unstable environment.

I will go to the right side, ok?

I had to cross the climbers' route.

I risked triggering an avalanche on them.

It's a very delicate balance,

which means that your capacity to assess your terrain

and your level of situational awareness has to be a very,

very elite level.

You know, of course we are at very high altitudes,

lack of oxygen makes decision making quite difficult,

your brain feels foggy or like you were drunk

and so this adds a lot of risk to everything you do.

The thing about K2 is if the snow is firm

pretty much every single place on K2,

if you fall, you will go to the bottom.

There is nowhere to stop.

This means that any small mistake will be fatal

I've now spent almost 20 hours in the death zone.

I need to keep moving.

The most challenging section still awaits.

The Messner Traverse.

I didn't know what it was, because it wasn't forecasted.

He descended into a cloud. White out.

And if you can imagine snow is white,

you have white clouds, it changes everything.

Hello, Andrzej. Report to base.

A cold front is coming with the clouds.

Hello, Andrzej. Report to base.

- What's up? - Where are you?

Approaching Camp 4. No visibility.

I can't ski in these conditions.

In unknown terrain you need good visibility.

I was worried about him.

I knew he acclimatized and was well-prepared,

but I knew each hour up there

would drain his energy to ski down.

You get vertigo, so you're trying to descend,

but you can't tell if you're moving

or you're standing still.

You can't tell if you're going faster, slower.

You can't tell if the slope falls away,

if it flattens out.

You can't see crevasses.

That's one of the most dangerous conditions you can have.

How much time do I have?

Okay, listen.

The bottom of the shoulder looks okay,

just the top is covered in clouds.

He needs to get the f**k out of there.

It'll be a massacre.

Andrzej, make a decision.

Holy sh*t.

Bartek is flying up to you, just start going down.

I'm going down.

He put all his chips on one hand.

He was wearing a thin snow suit, with just underwear underneath it,

and it was -30 degrees outside.

At last, I'd left the death zone.

There's a lot more oxygen in the air now.

Soon, I'll reach Janusz at Camp 3.

Meanwhile, I must hurry.

This glacial cirque looks very dangerous.

In the 8000 meters ski descents,

I think the most dangerous part is if and when

you need to leave the climbing line

and take the risk to go on slopes

that you have not tested on the way up

and no longer have an easy escape.

Look for rocks below. You have to pass them from the right.

I'll give directions from your perspective. your right.

It's very, very high stakes in terms of

just kind of your logistical planning

and understanding of the ski descent.

Look for rocks below.

You have to pass them from the right.

Below you.

You have to have a mental map of where you're going,

because you're literally mapping the route out for yourself,

when you're going down.

There are crevasses below you.

And a serac, so you can't go there.

It's important to have that mental map and clarity because

that couloir that looks just like that couloir

ends in a thousand-foot cliff.

Andrzej, go left. Your left!

It's simply too dangerous there.

There are crevasses below you.

I can see them, don't worry.

When I was there, I knew the route by heart.

I just needed good visibility.

You can anticipate things,

but the expanse is so large and unique

that you have to evaluate the dangers yourself,

because you feel the snow.

This is maybe the part I love the most

about the skiing in the high mountains

because your focus has to be 100%.

This level of hazard below you

means you are here and nowhere else.

It's just you and your skills and your decision making every turn.

Thanks.

I reunited with Janusz at Camp 3.

F**k!

I ate three gels today.

When Andrzej arrived, I was happy he'd reached the summit.

But also in style.

The first Pole to reach the summit via the Basque route.

There were only a few technical parts left

and that horrible Messner Traverse.

To push into that unknown space,

having people you can rely on

and trust is important.

You need everything to get down.

Before the expedition you said

that it is the most difficult thing you'd ever do.

You’re almost there.

Just a little more focus and you'll be fine.

Beautiful.

The first Ski descent from K2.

We can go home now.

What an amazing day.

This put Andrzej in to this mountain's history,

and the history of skiing.

He is part of this next generation

that is going to be pushing the edge of the human potential.

I thought it was impossible. This can't be true.

He couldn't have done it like that and he did.

We are starting to see the possibilities

of what drones could do.

Congratulations.

- Good job. - I'm glad you’re back.

Equipment has just made it possible

to do what Andrzej has done.

It's a complete game changer.

I'm so tired.

This was fantastic.

High five.

A long time ago

I realized that dreams don't come true by themselves.

You must realize them.

And that’s it. It’s crucial.

Stars don’t just fall out of the sky.

What Andrzej achieved was truly remarkable

and it was inspiring for me.

My mum gave birth to eleven children.

That challenge can’t be compared to skiing down K2.

And next...

To get to where we are, we've had to take risks.

We are built with that instinct.