the peak was reached by: Tomaž Humar
	expedition members: Roman Robas (leader), Dušan Debelak, Tomaž Humar, Matic Jošt, Janko Meglič, Peter Mežnar, Marko Prezelj, dr. Franc Srakar, Andrej Štremfelj, Tomaž Žerovnik
	northwest face, he ascends the virgin peak alpine-style along a new route Golden Heart, V 85° (50-70°). He descends along a new Memorial Routefor Vanja Furlan. V+ 90°, (50-70°)
	2500 m
	to acclimatize he ascends Api Lech, 5700 m
	Prior to Humar`s ascent, Bobaye, a 6.808 m Himalayan peak, remained unconquered.
	To acclimatize, Humar ascended Api Lech (5.700 m) and ventured in the 2.500 m face of Bobaye in November 1, 1996.
	After his solo ascent he reached the peak the next morning. He named the route Golden heart and dedicated it to his wife Sergeja.
	He descended along another new route, which he dedicated to Vanja Furlan, his co-climber from Ama Dablam.

It had all started a year before on Gmajnica when Šrauf showed me what he had seen on a scouting tour in Western Nepal. A feeling of uncertainty and the approaching expedition to Ama Dablam did not let me even consider what might come of it.

After several hours of hacking away at hard ice my diminutive tent is still too large for the ledge, so I decide to stop wasting my energy and simply rope myself inside the crooked tent which hangs half off the face. At 5500 meters I have a single thought in my mind: Will I manage to climb the remaining 1300 meters tomorrow and then return to this 'comfortable bivouac'?

In the morning I have a quick breakfast and then even more quickly start to climb. My rucksack contains just the barest essentials for a bivouac, some food, my camera and the radio. When I cross from the west to northwest, I radio in to the base, from where Frenk and Roman have been following me all the time. It soon becomes obvious I'll have difficulties with perspective on the face. I'll have a hard time climbing over the uppermost, steepest bands of rock and ice. I lose contact with the base at the crux section and consequently climb unnecessarily up a vertical granite groove where thinly layered ice 'pancakes' await me. Luckily, they sustain my weight. The closer I draw to the saddle between the main and the central peaks, the stronger the gusts of wind are, spinning about the snow on the ridge. Just before I reach the saddle, an exposed traverse in a granite slab on which there is nothing but powder snow starts the blood coursing through my numbed fingers. A single wrong move and within seconds I could find myself more than two kilometers lower down. Before the summit I still have to face a windy snow ridge, biting cold despite the sun. At one p.m. I reach the peak of a new beginning".

This peak, which remained in the shadow of the Ama Dablam and later expeditions, brought home the realization that I was capable of meeting myself head-on in the highest of mountains, which set me apart from many others. As I was knocked to my knees by the increasingly strong gusts of gale, I had no premonition that a mere year later this blowing master of the Himalayan peaks would be the cause of the harshest trial in my life.

I stare toward base camp, lying more than three kilometers below my bulky feet, and then survey the surrounding peaks. Far to the north I can make out probably the holiest of peaks for the native inhabitants - Kailash, due to its sacredness off limit for climbers. I radio in to Roman Robas and tell him that I'm naming the route Golden Heart and dedicating it to my wife Sergeja. Because of the wind and the nagging worry that I still have to reach my tent today, I begin to descend after some 20 minutes, on the right along the edge between the northwest and the west walls. I progress quite quickly except down a short chute in a rock barrier. I switch into the special mode again. A swing with the ice-ax held in my right hand; I close my eyes as bits of ice spray my face, then repeat the process with my left hand. Next I move my feet on the spiky points of the crampons. All of it is done very quickly, as though I knew the face all my life. I love every minute of it, like a child with a full bowl of chocolate meal ... It's wonderful ... I breathe the air of my mission. It's a taste one never grows tired of.

Before I reach the tent, my stomach begins to grumble. I remember I haven't eaten all day, and that my drink froze during the ascent. After some well-earned refreshment I prepare for the night, feeling happy.

Abstract from the book by Tomaž Humar, No Impossible Ways, 2001, Mobitel d.d., Ljubljana