5/15/18


Andy Morang's blog, 'World of Decay,' presents a fascinating panoply of photos, many in black&white, of urban decay in the American South, and elsewhere.... 


Andy's blog is not all on urban decay, however, for he has recently posted a number of photos with commentary from the Nepal Himalayas taken on a trip I led in October-November 2017. Search "Nepal" on his blog to see vibrant ancient Himalayan culture alive and well, eminently fascinating and photogenic, in the modern world. 

For an introduction to film photography using a Leica camera search "Leica" on his blog. He's proficient in both film and digital imagery, But there is something to be said about the artistic aspects of film photography

Film Photography is (not) dead; Long Live Film Photography!

Andy can be reached at kodachromeguy at bellsouth.net

A Combi at an old Volkswagon dump.

The crowd at a riverside country fair in Nepal, with a long suspension bridge overhead.

Mannequins in Kathmandu.








It is time to read an Asian American writer: JHUMPA LAHIRI

Jhumpa Lahiri is the Pulitzer Prize–winning author of the short story collection Interpreter of Maladies, as well as the collection Unaccustomed Earth and two novels.
Why you should read her: Informed by her own experience as an immigrant, Jhumpa Lahiri's work addresses the anxieties and struggles of Indian-American immigrants and the deeply felt cultural gaps they encounter in a country very different from their homeland.
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Among Lahiri's many books are: 
* The Lowland* Namesake* Interpreter of Maladies and * Unaccustomed Earth
All her books are listed on her Amazon Author's Page at: www.amazon.com/Jhumpa-Lahiri/e/B001H6GTG0

Writer Tom Wolfe Dies at 88


Tom Wolfe—the journalist and author of many celebrated works, including “The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby,” “The Right Stuff” and “Bonfire of the Vanities,” died Monday at age 88, according to The New York Times. His masterful use of colorful language and “novelistic techniques” in his nonfiction work ushered in the era of “New Journalism” in the 1960s. Wolfe wrote on California counterculture and LSD, the first American astronauts, and the culture of money and greed in 1980s New York. He also wrote essays for New YorkHarper’s and Esquire—believing that journalism had effectively removed the novel as “American literature’s main event.” Wolfe died in a Manhattan hospital.

Photo by Gasper Tringale/Reuters

Read it in The New York Times at www.nytimes.com/2018/05/15/obituaries/tom-wolfe-pyrotechnic-nonfiction-writer-and-novelist-dies-at-87.html

5/8/18

SWINGING IN A HIMALAYAN HAMMOCK by Erin Green (April 2018, ECS Nepal magazine)

I’VE BEEN SEARCHING FOR A GOOD HAMMOCK, and I’ve
found a Nepal-produced piece of resting perfection. They’re made by a tight team of three just outside Kathmandu. Since the business began, these hammocks have traveled all over the world—to Chile, America, Switzerland, and beyond. They’re super lightweight, durable, and made by hand. Well, they’re made by two hands. It’s a nice story.
I had the pleasure of meeting Yelamber Sing Adhikari who gave me an introduction to his business, Himalayan Hammocks. Besides my lifelong love of hammocks, I liked his voice. It’s like it was created swinging in a hammock. Plus, Yelamber had a touch of an American accent, giving my roots a little cuddle. If he hadn’t spent time studying and climbing in the States, these Himalayan Hammocks wouldn’t exist.
Yelamber had spent a summer climbing in Wyoming, driving around in his Suburu and crashing on friends’ couches. He’d climbed in Nepal before he went to study in the States, and he dug the diverse group of climbers in Wyoming. I think the group dug having a climber from Nepal around, too!
Eventually, he returned to Nepal and got involved with the Himalayan Outdoor Festival, which has been going on now for seven years. It’s a weekend combination of competitions—three cycling events, three running events, and two climbing ones. That can’t be easy to organize. But, he loves it. It’s growing as an event, and more and more Nepalis are taking part. That’s exciting.
The Himalayan Outdoor Festival also puts on the Adventure Film Festival, which is a selection of the same films shown at the Boulder Adventure Film Festival. Excitement, adventure, thrill, determination, focus, and endurance describe the events of the Outdoor Festival and the content of the films. After all of this adrenaline, you need some time to chill out.
That’s where Himalayan Hammocks comes in.  

Yelamber never thought he’d start a business with his hammocks, though. He’d just returned to Nepal, with his own American made hammock that was falling to pieces. He brought it to his local tailor, Parshu Ram, and asked if he could replicate it.
Parshu Ram is a tailor for the army by trade. He didn’t just replicate the old hammock, he enforced it and made it perfect.
It’s lightweight, only 300 grams for the hammock itself. It’s made of durable, waterproof Ripstop nylon, uses tough Beal climbing ropes to attach to carabiners, and ropes containing easy-to-attach-to daisy chains (so you don’t need to mess around with tying knots). It can be transformed into an emergency shelter by turning it upside down and made into an A-frame, and it has a mosquito net. It is about 8 ft by 4.5 ft, comes in pretty colors, and takes a minute to set up.
His friends wanted some.
He and his wife put their heads together and decided to give the business a go. They asked Parshu Ram, who has two kids in college, if he was in. All the money he makes outside his army work goes towards his kids. He came on board. They registered the business as a small business cottage industry in Bhaktapur in 2014. With the help of social media, especially Facebook and Instagram, the word got out about Himalayan Hammocks.
This is what Yelamber thinks is so cool; the relationships he’s built with people via his hammock’s social media sites. He says, “It’s a pretty amazing experience to have made really good friends from this. Plus, they’re amazing climbers and adventurers, so they send awesome pictures.” He gets a bit of free marketing when his friends and customers send him pictures of his hammocks dangling off slacklines above Lake Superior, or swinging over the snow at the base of Mt. Denali. He’s made friends and clients all over the globe from this venture.
Right now, Himalayan Hammocks is just a nice little business. It will grow in the future, but right now they’re pacing themselves. When bigger orders come in, Parshu Ram hires a few of his friends to help out. They’re stocked at Mountain Hardware and a few other small shops around Kathmandu and Patan, and available online.
I asked if he thought about selling abroad, but he believes the cost could be too high. Definitely too high for huge stores like REI, but perhaps some smaller independent shops would be able to stock their product in the future. They do have some international customers, who don’t mind the mighty shipping costs. This hammock is worth it.
Yelamber had a Swiss volunteer who took a whole bunch of hammocks, about 30 or 40, back to Switzerland to sell. “I guess she sold them for a really good mark-up, because she brought me a 10-liter outdoor solar shower. That was really sweet of her, cuz, you don’t expect someone to say, ‘Hey I sold your hammocks really well, here’s a solar shower.’ I’ve met some really great people from this. If not for Himalayan Hammocks, I wouldn’t have crossed paths with a lot of these people. So yeah, it’s really nice.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
This article was originally published in ‘ECS Nepal’ magazine (Kathmandu) 
and online at http://ecs.com.np/craft-reviews/swinging-in-a-himalayan-hammock. 
For more about Himalayan Hammocks, see  – 

4/22/18

WRITING ABROAD: A Guide for Travelers, by Peter Chilson & Joanne B. Mulcahy

Are you a traveler, writer, or arm-chair explorer interested in other cultures and peoples beyond the bounds of your neighborhood, town, or country? This book will whet your appetite and give you new vistas and modes of expression. It is designed to open our eyes and other senses and hone our skills to meet and better understand and appreciate cultures, beliefs and lifestyles beyond your own.
Writing Abroad: A Guide for Travelers is a well-written and incisive guide to travel writing, without the dullness of some “how-to” books I’ve read. The authors lay out the steps recommended to prepare us to comfortably enter, discover, document, and write about others. Almost every tool that a perceptive traveler needs to approach what anthropologists call “the field” (doing “fieldwork”), serves equally well for those less traveled readers who are more inclined to learn about other cultures from travel books, ethnographies, and memoirs.
Peter Chilson, who teaches creative writing and literature at Washington State University, and Joanne K. Mulcahy, of the Northwest Writing Institute at Lewis and Clark College in Oregon, discuss in depth what it takes to make travel and travel writing gratifying. Their book prepares us for observant travel to the mall or around the world to some exotic destination. The examples they use to highlight their tutorial discussions are excellent. Along the way, they challenge us with provocative prompts and writing exercises to help sharpen our awareness.
Part 1, Encountering Cultures, begins with the act of Getting Ready, then cruises comfortably through Discovering New Cultures, Encountering Another Language in Your Own Voice, Documentary Forms and Methods, Portraits and Profiles, Writing about Place, Religion, Politics, and History, and Travel Writing in the Age of the Internet. Part 2, Return and Revision, focuses on Revising Your Writing and Your Life, and The Varieties of Literary Form. There is also a Selected Bibliography featuring Books on Writing, Travel Writing Collections, and Books on Ethnographic Writing and Fieldwork.
For example, in the chapter on Place we are reminded that travel involves crossing borders – political, religious, cultural or linguistic. One exercise encourages us to “Freewrite on your definition of a border. Then write about a significant border crossing you’ve made. Explore the environment, what it looked like, and how it made you feel in crossing,” to sharpen “the visual expression of action and setting.”
“Freewriting” means writing openly without self-critique. “We want to grope for knowledge,” they say, “not state what we already know.” Freewriting helps breach the boundaries of understanding. The idea is to get in the habit of “writing without censoring and editing.” Get it all down quickly now, while it is fresh in mind. The polish comes later.
We are also encouraged to consider factors of race, class, gender, language, religion, and sexual orientation, which color our own beliefs and biases. “Recognizing who you are before you depart is essential,” they say. And to become better witnesses to the unfamiliar, they discuss the usefulness of such techniques as participant-observation and immersion journalism.
As I read the book I was impressed by its common sense, ethnographic approach. I liked that. It’s uplifting, insightful, and productive. (Full disclosure: I am both an anthropologist and a writer.)
I recommend Writing Abroad: A Guide for Travelers for a motivating read, whether you are or aspire to be a travel writer or are happy as an arm-chair explorer keen on learning about other cultures and peoples.
Reviewed by Don Messerschmidt
Publisher: University of Chicago Press. Formats: Hardcover, Paperback, eBook, Kindle. Purchase: Powell’s | Amazon | iBooks

4/11/18

Far Out: Countercultural Seekers and the Tourist Encounter in Nepal - by anthropologist Mark Liechty

Reviewed by Don Messerschmidt, in ECS Nepal magazine (Kathmandu):
http://ecs.com.np/bookworm/far-out

Since opening up to the outside in the early 1950s, and especially after the arrival of Westerners in large numbers from the late 1960s onward, Nepal has been hailed (by some) as being “Far Out” culturally and geographically. In this 387-page book, anthropologist Mark Liechty tells us how, why, and by whom, then he analyses the impacts of it all.
According to the publisher’s abstract, “Far Out examines how gener­ations of counter-culturally inclined Westerners have imagined Nepal as a land untainted by modernity and its capital, Kathmandu, a veritable synonym of Oriental Mystique. The book examines how the idea of Nepal changes through time in ways that reflect shifting forms of counter-­cultural longing in the West, and how Nepalis have engaged the chang­ing images of Nepal that tourists bring with them...”
I can think of no one better to fulfill that promise than Mark Liechty, an anthropologist and insightful writer who has spent many years researching Nepal’s culture history, with special attention to Kath­mandu’s urban life. His previous books on Nepal include ‘Suitably Mod­ern: Making Middle-Class Culture in a New Consumer Society’ and ‘Out Here in Kathmandu: Modernity on the Global Periphery’. Both are good reads.
In ‘Far Out’ Liechty continues his in-depth discussion of what has made Nepal, especially Kathmandu, such a globally alluring and popular destination. The book has 12 chapters organized in three parts. His goal in them “is not to portray tour­ism as something that happened to Nepal, but as an encounter–cultural and economic–between people who share a complex, historically constituted world stage.”
To that end Part One: ‘The Golden Age’ begins with the necessary historical background about the opening of Nepal to the West. In chapter 3, for example, he describes the ‘Mountains, Monsters, and Monks’ as they were perceived in popular imagination of the 1950s. Those “monsters” include the elusive Yeti, in popular lore. The next two chapters then take us deep into the stories of two tourism destina­tions and the persons who ran them. Chapter 4 is all about the historic character of Boris Lissanevitch of Kathmandu’s old Royal Hotel and who helped usher in Nepal tourism’s ‘Golden Age’. Chapter 5 intro­duces us to John Coapman who started out as a hunter, then became a somewhat controversial entre­preneur who founded Tiger Tops resort in Chitwan, one of the early gateways to adventure tourism. For history buffs, these two essays are essential reads.
Part Two of the book is all about ‘Hippie Nepal’, and is a major contribution to the story of Kath­mandu as a special destination to the Western world’s young dreamers beginning in the late 1960s through the 1970s. Chapter 6 is entitled ‘The Great Rucksack Revolution: Western Youth on the Road to Kathmandu’, followed (in ch.7) by ‘“Kathmandu or Bust”’–Countercultural Longing and the Rise of Freak Street,’ (ch.8) ‘“Something Big and Glorious and Magnificently Insane”,’ (ch.9) ‘The Age of Hippies’, and (ch.10) ‘Nepal’s Discovery of Tourism and the End of the Hippie Era.’ The latter serves as a transition into Part Three: Adventure Tourism, where (in ch.11) we encounter three themes: ‘Trekking, Thamel and the New Tourism’. Part Three concludes (in ch.12) with “Imbibing Eastern Wisdom: Nepal as Dharma Destination.’
Scattered throughout the book is mention of American Peace Corps volunteers (I was one) who both preceded and then paralleled the Hippie Era and the rise of Adventure Tourism in Kathmandu and other outposts such as Pokhara, Chitwan and beyond. Most of the Hippie chapters describe foreigners on their quest for drugs, sex, and the Dharma, but in ch.12 there’s a special section called ‘Nepali Hippies: Fellow Travelers on a Journey of the Mind,’ which describes some of the locals who joined the Hippie movement, and the effects of their presence to this day.
        All in all, this is an excellent study of some of the key events and movements that have impacted Nepal in the modern era (since the 1950s). ‘Far Out’ is a highly recommended read.

Mark Liechty, the author of FAR OUT: Countercultural Seekers and the Tourist Encounter in Nepal (University of Chicago Press 2017) is an Associate Professor in the Department of Anthropology and History at the University of Illinois/Chicago and a frequent visitor to Nepal. His book is available in hardback, paper and e-book editions. 

3/8/18


The High-Flying Yeti of Dhampus Pass
By Don Messerschmidt, ECS Nepal magazine (Kathmandu), July 2013
A flying Yeti? What’s next!
In 1960, a Swiss mountaineering expedition flew to Nepal to climb Dhaulagiri peak with the help of a Yeti, the abominable snowman of the Himalayas. But this particular Yeti was unusual¾it had wings. In the process they bagged the first ascent of the world’s 7th highest peak.

In the 14 years between 1950 and 1964 all 14 of the world’s 8,000 meter peaks (26,246 ft+) were climbed. The first was Annapurna (8,019 m., 10th highest) by a French team in 1950, followed by Everest (8,850 m.) in 1953 by the British. By 1964 the other 12 were conquered. All are in Asia, in the Himalayas (Nepal, India and Tibet) and Hindu Kush (Pakistan/China).
< Pilatus Porter on Dhampus PassPhoto credit: Max Eiselin 1960
The 7th highest among them is Nepal’s Dhaulagiri, the ‘White Mountain’, which rises 8,167 meters (26,795 ft) into the sky and is considered one of the most difficult to climb. It is especially renowned for wild storms and killer avalanches. It was attempted eight times before the Swiss topped out on it.
The 1960 Swiss Dhaulagiri Expedition was doubly notable. Not only did Swiss mountaineers reach the summit (on May 13), but they used a Pilatus P-6 Porter STOL (short take-off and landing) aircraft, nicknamed ‘Yeti’, to help them. In his book The Ascent of Dhaulagiri (1961), the expedition leader Max Eiselin describes the climb and how his team used the history-making STOL (Short Take-Off and Landing) plane.
Everything about the Yeti was New
The first P-6 was manufactured in Switzerland only a year earlier, in 1959. And although Pilatus aircraft were well known in the Alps, none had ever been used on Himalayan expeditions. The Pilatus was named after a minor peak in the central Alps, based on a legend that the body of Pontius Pilate, the Roman official who presided over the trial and crucifixion of Jesus, lay somewhere on the mountain.
The Swiss had high expectations for their Yeti. In his book, Max Eiselin explains how the aircraft was used to transport stores and equipment directly to the high camps. By flying the supplies in, they radically altered the usual practice of hiring porters to carry heavy loads up to base camp. During the expedition, the Yeti landed many times on Dhampus Pass (‘Dambush’ in Eiselin’s book) at an elevation of 5,200 meters (17,060 ft). Those supply flights were undertaken with “the greatest margin of safety”, Eiselin writes:
“We intended to do without porters and transport everything needed for the acclimatization camp on the Dambush Pass by means of the Yeti, the rest of the stores being dumped on the NE Col as soon as possible. As this was an experiment which had never been attempted before in the Himalayas - the world height record up to that time being 4,200 m. - we intended to be careful and... [were] determined only to fly in really good weather, and certainly not in strong winds... In order to be on the safe side we also worked out an approach march on foot just in case the machine failed us at the last minute. It was much too risky to base everything on an untried method of approach when the prize was a still unclimbed 8,000-m. peak.”
World Record Landing
The Yeti’s history-making flights began on March 28, when Max Eiselin and two pilots, Ernst Saxer and Emil Wick, flew for the first time to Dambush. After taking off from an airfield in the Nepal lowlands, Eiselin looked down and remembered the long approach march while trekking in during an earlier expedition―“the exhausting passes, the slow advance from one valley to another over ridges and through gorges, the blistering sun, the dust and the thirst.
Flying now, high above the wild Kali Gandaki river near Tukucha (Tukché village), “Ernst turned off to the left and put on his oxygen mask. The landing required meticulous concentration. We saw the Dambush Pass below us and crossed over it to ‘Hidden Valley’ beyond. We were pleasantly surprised to find that there was no wind...
After a high sweeping turn, Wick wound down the flaps and the plane “touched down on the snow-fields of the Dambush Pass as lightly as a feather. We were overjoyed to find that the Pass made an ideal landing-ground. The problem of the approach march was solved...
They unloaded supplies and established a camp for later use. Then, with a wind-sock in place, “the highest airfield in the world was open for business... The altimeter stood at 5,200 m. and the thermometer at -12° C. The snow was nice and hard and the runway sloped gradually towards the Kali Gandaki valley without any obstructions. It could not have been better.
During take-off, the Yeti rushed full speed down slope “like a skier taking off at the top of a ski jump. Then Ernst pulled back a little on the stick and the Yeti straightened up and glided softly out into the air...” Almost as a second thought, Eiselin added that the “landing on Dambush Pass was not only the first snow landing in the Himalayas, but constituted a world’s height record into the bargain.
A few days later they landed even higher, at 5,750 m (18,865 ft) on Dhaulagiri’s NE Col. To this day, the Pilatus P-6 Yeti holds the world record for highest landing by a fixed wing single-engine aircraft, up there on Dhaulagiri glacier.
The Demise of ‘Yeti’
Supply flights to Dambush Pass and the NE Col continued uneventfully until  May. In the course of 16 flights Saxer and Wick transported many supplies and several expedition members to the mountain. What took them eight to 12  minutes flight time from Pokhara in the Nepal midhills, took others, on foot, four days or more to accomplish on mountain trails.
Then, eight days before the summit assault, the P-6 flights came to an sudden end. Yeti landed at Dambush that morning as usual, but never came back. Something went wrong and, unable to contact the crew, Eiselin worried about their safety. He had no idea what had happened.
That day, May 5th, was a “black day” for the expedition and the blackest day of his flying career, the pilot, Ernst Saxer, wrote in his diary. The morning weather was perfect and the landing was flawless, but at take-off something went terribly wrong.
“Emil shook the plane by the struts in order to loosen the skis in the snow, [and] I then gave full throttle and we slid along the old track. We were airborne in barely fifty yards, as fine a take-off as one could wish for. I pulled back the control column hard against me. The blue glaciers of the Tibetan frontier mountains glittered in the distance.
“But what was that! My hand suddenly shot up in the air and hit the roof. To my consternation I realized that I was firmly grasping the rubber grip of the column in both hands. The column, without my guiding hand on it, shot forwards and before I had grasped the situation, there was a sudden crashing and splintering on all sides. Snow was whirling about and completely obstructed our view...”
Yeti nose-dived, cascading out of control down the slope. After a hard jolt, the plane spun around and stopped. Then, total silence.
Upon exiting the cockpit, the pilots saw a “spectacle of utter ruin.” The ailerons were torn off. The left wing was badly bent. The tail and undercarriage were smashed. The propeller was twisted out of shape. And the engine was ruined. Yeti would never fly again.
The pilots picked up gear scattered across the crash site and wondered how they would survive the night at that altitude. Saxer was unhurt, but Wick suffered a gash on his head, and had altitude sickness with a severe headache. They found food (mostly Toblerone chocolate bars) and a few warm clothes in an empty tent, but without sleeping bags they spent a miserably cold night.
The following morning Saxer set out to get help from the closest camp, many hours walk south on French Pass. He turned back when he realized it was too far to go in the snow without proper footgear and cold weather clothing. After two more nights alone at Dambush, he and Wick realized that they had to walk out to safety. Early Sunday morning, May 8th, they left for Tukché, the nearest village, many miles east and steeply down 2610 meters (8,563 ft) in the river valley. Shortly after leaving the pass a search plane flew over and spotted them. They felt a little better knowing that others on the expedition saw that they were alive; but the search plane couldn’t land there. Twelve hours later Saxer and Wick reach Tukché, totally exhausted and hurting from the steep descent. From there, they walked another four days out to Pokhara.
Before leaving Dambush, Saxer had left a note where it would be found by whoever came looking for them. He knew that the expedition was near its end and that they wouldn’t meet other team members before the final assault on the summit. The note reached Max Eiselin days later when a Sherpa brought it back from the pass. It read, in part―
“Dambush, 7 May
Dear Comrades,
10.15 a.m., 5 May. Yeti crashed after take-off. Rubber grip of control column broke off. Emil and I uninjured. Staying here until morning of 8 May... Emil is in bad shape. Going down to Tukucha tomorrow, as short of fuel and food. Hope to be in Pokhara on 12/5...
Yeti lies 300 m. in direction of Hidden Valley, some equipment still lying about...
With best wishes for the success of the expedition,
Ernst and Emil.”

The ‘Yeti’ Today
It’s been over half a century since the Yeti crashed. Trekkers crossing Dambush (Dhampus) Pass on the popular Dhaulagiri Trail now find very little wreckage―a few remaining pieces of the dead Yeti. Yak herders and others have stripped it clean of any useful parts and for souvenirs.
In the early 2000s, some Swiss airplane aficionados considered going to Nepal to bring the remains of the pioneering Pilatus P-6 ‘Yeti’ back home to Switzerland. But they gave up when they realized that there was not much left to recover and how difficult and costly such an ambitious adventure would be.
The Pilatus P-6 Porter named Yeti is dead. Long live the Yeti! □
















Immediately after the crash. Photo by Ernst Saxer, 1960

Don and ‘Amjo’ looking down on the crash, summer of 1964. Photo: Regon Unsoeld.





The crash site in 1964. Photos © by Don Messerschmidt









For more photos of the Yeti before and after the crash see: Pilatus Porter History by Markus Herzig, s/n337’ online at http://www.pc-6.com/history/337.htm.
The air crash report is online at: https://aviation-safety.net/wikibase/wiki.php?id=28757

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The 14 Highest Peaks - the ‘Eight-Thousanders’ (over 8000 meters / 26,246 feet)
Rank
Name
Height
Location
Date Summitted
Nationality
1st
Everest
8850m
Nepal/Tibet
May 29, 1953
British
2nd
K2 (Godwin-Austin)
8611m
Pakistan/China
July 31, 1954
Italian
3rd
Kanchenjunga
8586m
Nepal/India
May 25. 1956
British
4th
Lhotse
8516m
Nepal/Tibet
May 18, 1956
Swiss
5th
Makalu
8463m
Nepal/Tibet
May 15, 1955
French
6th
Cho Oyu
8201m
Nepal/Tibet
October 19, 1954
Austrian
7th
Dhaulagiri
8167m
Nepal
May 13, 1960
Swiss
8th
Manaslu
8163m
Nepal
May 9, 1956
Japanese
9th
Nanga Parbat
8125m
Pakistan
July 3, 1953
Austrian
10th
Annapurna
8091m
Nepal
June 3, 1950
French
11th
Gasherbrum-I
8068m
Pakistan/China
July 4, 1958
American
12th
Broad Peak
8047m
Pakistan/China
June 9, 1957
Austrian
13th
Gasherbrum-II
8035m
Pakistan/China
July 7, 1956
Austrian
14th
Shisha Pangma
8013m
Tibet
May 2, 1964
Chinese