On a Thursday midday in Pakistan's Karakoram range, an avalanche swallowed a ten-member expedition on Broad Peak, among them Nirmal Purja — the Nepali mountaineer who once raced through all fourteen of the world's highest summits in barely six months. The mountain has offered no word of them since. As rescue teams await a break in the weather, the world is reminded once more that the heights which draw the most extraordinary human beings are the same heights most indifferent to their survival.
Renowned climber Nirmal Purja among 10 feared missing after Broad Peak avalanche
The silence is the problem.
Why does Purja's speed record matter in a story about an avalanche?
Because it tells you who he was as a climber. He wasn't cautious or methodical in the traditional sense. He moved fast, he took calculated risks, and he succeeded where others would have turned back. That approach works until the mountain decides it doesn't.
Broad Peak is the 12th highest mountain. Why is that detail important?
It's not about the ranking. It's that Broad Peak is technically harder than many of the higher peaks. Climbers respect it differently. It's not a mountain you summit by being fit and determined alone—you need skill, judgment, and luck.
The team was international. Does that complicate the rescue?
It complicates everything. Different countries' authorities have to coordinate. Different insurance, different protocols, different resources. And it means ten families in different parts of the world are waiting for the same helicopter.
What does "no subsequent communication" really mean?
It means they either can't reach a radio or phone, or they can't reach one that works. It could mean they're sheltering and waiting. It could mean something worse. The silence is the problem.
Why mention that he started climbing after Everest Base Camp in 2012?
Because it shows this wasn't a hobby for him. Most people go to Everest Base Camp and go home. He stayed. He kept climbing. That tells you something about his character and his commitment—and maybe about the risks he was willing to take.
Le Pouls
- An avalanche struck Broad Peak around midday Thursday, and all ten climbers — including the celebrated Nirmal Purja — vanished without a single transmission reaching the outside world.
- The team's international makeup — American, Chinese, Omani, and five Nepali climbers — means multiple governments and families are now suspended in the same agonizing silence.
- Pakistani authorities are racing to organize a helicopter rescue, but the mountain's notorious weather holds the operation hostage, with Friday morning named as the earliest possible window.
- The Alpine Club of Pakistan has pledged every available resource, yet rescuers know that Broad Peak's technical terrain and sudden weather shifts make any operation there among the most dangerous imaginable.
- The mountaineering world, small and tightly bound by shared risk, watches and waits — aware that the same qualities that made Broad Peak worthy of Purja's ambition are the qualities now working against those searching for him.
On a Thursday midday in Pakistan's Karakoram range, an avalanche swallowed a ten-member expedition on Broad Peak, among them Nirmal Purja — the Nepali mountaineer who once raced through all fourteen of the world's highest summits in barely six months. The mountain has offered no word of them since. As rescue teams await a break in the weather, the world is reminded once more that the heights which draw the most extraordinary human beings are the same heights most indifferent to their survival.
An avalanche swept across Broad Peak in Pakistan's Karakoram range on Thursday around midday, erasing all contact with a ten-member expedition led by Nirmal Purja — the Nepali mountaineer who had made his name by summiting all fourteen of the world's 8,000-metre peaks in just six months and a week in 2019. No signal, no word, nothing has come from the team since the mountain closed over them.
The group was international in composition: an American, a Chinese national, an Omani, and five Nepalis, all attempting Broad Peak — the world's twelfth highest mountain at 8,047 metres. The same technical severity and remoteness that draw serious climbers to the peak are precisely what make any rescue effort there so uncertain and dangerous.
Karrar Haidri of the Alpine Club of Pakistan confirmed to the BBC that authorities were mobilizing resources, with a helicopter operation tentatively planned for Friday morning, entirely dependent on whether the weather cooperates. Mountain conditions can open and close rescue windows within hours.
Purja's route into mountaineering was anything but conventional. A former Royal Marine who joined the British Army in 2003, he first visited Everest Base Camp in 2012 — and instead of descending, stayed in the mountains and summited his first peak. That instinct to keep climbing rather than turn back would come to define everything about him.
The Alpine Club issued a statement of solidarity with the climbers' families and the broader mountaineering community, its formal language carrying the quiet weight of a world that understands, better than most, what it means to wait on a mountain's mercy.
An avalanche swept across Broad Peak in Pakistan's Karakoram range on Thursday around midday, and with it vanished a ten-member climbing expedition led by Nirmal Purja, the Nepali mountaineer whose name had become synonymous with speed and audacity in the world's highest places. No word has come from the team since the mountain took them. Pakistani mountaineering officials are now coordinating what rescue efforts weather will permit, with a helicopter operation tentatively planned for Friday morning if conditions allow.
Purja, a former Royal Marine who served in the British Army starting in 2003, had earned his reputation through an extraordinary feat of endurance and determination. In 2019, over the course of just six months and a week, he summited all fourteen of the world's mountains that rise above 8,000 metres—a feat that had taken others years to accomplish. He was not a climber content to move slowly or cautiously. His expedition style was built on speed, preparation, and an almost relentless drive to move upward.
The team that disappeared with him was international in composition: an American, a Chinese national, an Omani, and five Nepalis. They were attempting Broad Peak, which at 8,047 metres ranks as the world's twelfth highest mountain. The peak sits in one of the planet's most unforgiving mountain ranges, and it has long been regarded as one of the more technically demanding summits for any expedition to attempt. The conditions that make it attractive to serious climbers—its technical difficulty, its remoteness, its exposure to sudden weather—are the same conditions that make rescue extraordinarily complicated.
Karrar Haidri, vice-president of the Alpine Club of Pakistan, told the BBC that authorities were working to mobilize resources as quickly as possible. The helicopter rescue, he explained, would depend entirely on whether the weather over Broad Peak cooperated. Mountain weather is unpredictable and often closes windows of opportunity within hours. The club itself issued a statement saying it had maintained constant contact with authorities and was committed to ensuring all available resources were deployed at the earliest moment possible.
Purja's path to mountaineering had been unconventional. He joined the British Army in 2003 and became a Royal Marine in 2009, serving in one of the world's most demanding military units. In 2012, he went to Everest Base Camp, but rather than descend back to Kathmandu as most climbers do, he stayed in the mountains. He summited Lobuche East, a 6,119-metre peak in Nepal, as his first mountain. That decision—to keep climbing instead of going home—seemed to set the pattern for everything that followed. He was someone for whom the mountains were not a destination to visit but a place to live, at least for a time.
The Alpine Club of Pakistan's statement carried the formal language of institutional grief and solidarity, but it also reflected the reality that the mountaineering world is small, interconnected, and bound by shared understanding of the risks that bind climbers together. The club prayed for the safety of all the climbers and expressed solidarity with their families and the international mountaineering community. What happens next depends on weather, on helicopter availability, on the terrain itself—on all the variables that make mountain rescue one of the most uncertain and dangerous forms of rescue work that exists.
Citations marquantes
We are coordinating with the authorities and trying to arrange a helicopter rescue on Friday morning Pakistani time depending on weather condition— Karrar Haidri, vice-president of the Alpine Club of Pakistan