Indian Himalaya, Miyar Valley Expedition
Transcendence, Raja Peak
The monster roared and an earth-shaking rumble erupted from the darkness. That’s the way it is out here, everything’s alive and often trying to kill you! The glaciers we’d been living on for the last couple of weeks frequently groaned their warnings and we were but tiny ants in a ring made for a rhino.
It was 3.45am and we’d just crossed the bergschrund on a 1200m North Wall of a virgin peak in this isolated corner of the Indian Himalaya. The map marked the summit as being 6295m, but this is the land time forgot and maps must be treated with extreme caution. I was relieved we’d made it in to the sanctuary of our couloir, before the huge serac in the darkness up to our right released its’ load. Above me, the reflections of Dave’s head torch flickered off the rock walls, illuminating snapshots of grandeur. I kept an eye on the rope that joined us, moving when beckoned and already savoring moments of inactivity, leaning in to the slope and easing the pull of the heavy sack on my shoulders. It had been four days since we left Advance Base Camp and despite consuming most of our food, enough kit to support us in this mountain environment was not light. The size of the pack became truly apparent as Dave reeled me in to the depths of a cave and it began to wedge me in place. I was relieved to swap for the lighter leader’s pack and even more pleased to discover the squeaky condition of the steep ice pulling out of the cave.
A grey morning dawned as I got in to some kind of rhythm moving up the more unconsolidated snow in the upper couloir. I edged ever closer to the thin slither of white falling from the steep corners above. From a distance it’s impossible to tell what the white lines you’re using to join the dots consist of: icy neve with solid substance, or loose snow doing little more than getting in the way. The latter could easily shut us down and force us, with danger and uncertainty, toward the jaws of one of the guarding seracs. I scraped the pick of my axe down the back of the first corner, before swinging with all the hope I had.
“Thwock!” It stuck fast. I smiled and “thwock, thwock, thwock” danced up the groove to find a belay before the next steepening.
Once Dave arrived we set about getting our second rope ready, switching to pitching from moving together.
“Do you wanna carry on?” he said staring up. “You like the steep stuff right?”
I was tired enough to be indifferent, but far too psyched to think about turning it down.
“Sure,” I replied. “Hope it’s as awesome as it looks!”
A shout from Dave made me glance over, just in time to see his belay plate bounce off toward the couloir below.
“1000 meters of Italian hitches it is then!” I reasoned, knowing that retreat wasn’t really an option. Climbing a new face in a position like this requires a very high level of commitment, along with a healthy dose of optimism. To reach this North side of the mountain we’d walked for two and a half days, crossing a 5500m pass, wading through icy rivers and scrabbling around on some of the loosest moraine I’ve ever had the joy of encountering. Now the best way to go was up!
“Lower me down to the lip,” I said. I knew it was a very long shot, to hope the plate may be retrievable, but it had to be worth a shot! As I glanced over the edge I realized someone must have been looking over us: the plate lay precariously on top of the soft snow in the couloir. I crept my feet down the groove doing my best not to undo our stroke of luck.
“And you’re not religious!” I joked handing the plate back to Dave.
The pitch started promisingly, with good ice and rock gear. After a few meters, however, I had to leave the security of the gully and start moving left for a steep ice smear falling from the main corners above. The white became far closer to snow than ice and the best holds consisted of a few small fins of rock. I searched the area, hoping to find something solid I could clip the rope to, to make me feel safe. A small cam was all that presented itself. I carefully balanced up on to the first little fin and kicked the next one with my left foot. I hovered for a while, all too aware of how alone we were: the radios we’d bought to allow communication with base camp, didn’t work less than a days walk from there and we were now five days away! This was no place to rush. I teetered over to the ice as freezing spindrift poured down on top of me. Finally, a spot to place a screw. The security of solid axe placements eased my angst and I quested on up only to find the ice quickly deteriorate again: this was definitely not in the bag. More delicate climbing led me up to another junction in the road. I surveyed my options: the ice I was on flowed left over another steep bulge, appearing wafer thin and incomplete; to my right it looked like a couple of steps on to ledges would gain height more safely. It did but the final ledge landed you in a cramped position beneath an overhanging wall. Over on the left thin ice dribbled from above. In comparison to what I’d been hoping for it was pathetic! But easier ground looked tantalizingly close. I took time to arrange gear around a loose crack and crawled over. Attaining a standing position instantly forced you out from the bulging rock. I wrapped my hands round a wide crack at the back of the overhang and lay backed out, giving me a limited time to scratch around in the ice for something to use. Nothing, damn!………………There had to be a way.
Time spent to-ing and froing, made me think about how long I’d been on the
pitch. Come on! I have to do this! We can’t be shut down by something so short. Lean out, step up………….Grrrrrr! I couldn’t commit; not here; nothing felt close to certain, including the gear.
I leant out and looked round the corner from the right end of the ledge, at what I expected to be a blank steep rock wall: “Yes!” A small foot ledge lead right to what appeared to be a short steep crack and another chance of success. I arranged good gear and made steep moves up the crack to reach the ledge. Unfortunately ledges don’t always give you sanctuary until you’re on them! A fact, which was highlighted as I scratched around through the loose snow finding nothing but sloping granite. By the time I finally made it up the rope drag was awful and our “large” alpine rack had all but dissolved in to the pitch. I lay-backed up the side of a huge flake and slotted the rope in behind it.
“Safe!” What a cheeky pitch!
As with baltic, spindrift-filled belays in Scotland, Dave had been wounded by the freezing cold inactivity. Seeing him arrive still shivering in a huge down jacket at the belay, I didn’t envy the icy cell he’d been lashed to. It was clear that more climbing was required before his cockles were even going to be tepid, so I passed him the rack and pushed him on through.
Eventually we emerged on to the large band of snow a third of the way up the face. So good to have the plum line in the bag for that section! Unfortunately the face became far more complex from here on out and route finding promised to be interesting. Dave led us right across the large expanse of snow, searching for the line of weakness we’d spied through our binoculars. Moving together across such a large open snowfield, with sparse protection, is where you really rely on the trust you have in your climbing partner to stay solid.
Large rock walls looming down from above cued us to climb back up left. Which groove to enter or ice wall to climb was not always obvious, but keeping the faith and moving on up seemed to do the trick. It felt incredible to be all-alone, questing up such a huge face in the Himalayas! The climbing was really fun and the sunshine creeping round to hit me at the belay reflected a beaming smile from my face.
A snow lip at the base of the central snow bowl presented our first obvious bivy site, but with a long way to go and daylight still remaining we decided to push on. Working my way up a ramp out to the right I began to regret this decision as each ledge I reached turned out to be sloping, small and unsatisfactory. Halted by a rock wall soon after sunset I asked what Dave thought of the ledge he was standing on (they always look better from above). He was hopeful we might be able to shape it in to a pretty reasonable bed for the night, so I fixed the rope to a nest of gear and rappelled down. When enlarging a ledge, the materials you have to work with dictate the difficulty of your sculpting: Snow is normally quite straight forward; ice is hard work, but possible; rock is game over. Excavating back to a line of rock spelled the end of our 5* slumber dreams! We’d both sat through nights before, though, often with far less warm clothes or sleeping bags, so we were happy enough.
Sitting in our sleeping bags, legs dangling in space, staring out at the last of the light fading over the mountains as it unveiled a blanket of stars, didn’t feel like a bad back drop for dinner! The big thing with vertical homes is that nothing is 100% safe from escaping, unless it’s lashed to the face (including you). Remembering this as I looked for somewhere to carefully place our only source of water, the stove pan, I leant forward to place it in the snow to my side. What I forgot was that the stove clenched between my thighs was still purring and it’s true what they say: Pertex is highly flammable! Anyone would think a flock of molting ducks had been living on the face. The major factor with our sleep set up was that we were sharing a lightweight RAB mountain tent. This proved perfect for lie down bivvies, but when trying to sleep sitting down the tendency is to lean on your rucksack……..in opposite directions, meaning the first part of the night was spent in a tug of war for the tent. Despite feeling confident I could probably win this, in the end I decided snuggling over in Dave’s general direction was more reasonable.
Mornings are always slow to get going from mountain bivvies, but we both decided we’d had enough rest to rappel back down and move left to access a more direct line up the centre of the face. I was really enjoying my morning brew, until the spindrift started pouring down on top of us! This made organising and packing everything back into bags a whole lot harder to do without taking several kilos of snow along for the ride! Dave managed to escape first and climbed up to recover some of our gear, before heading back down to the other line. By the time I rappelled down to join him I was freezing cold and not impressed by my morning ice shower. So much in fact that I managed to miss the ramp I was descending to, giving myself an extra 30m to re-climb! I new the only cure, given the situation, was a healthy dose of climbing and was pleased to start up the first pitch. Two fun pitches brought us to a line of grooves to our left. We hoped these may allow access to the center of the upper part of the face, but joining Dave at the belay, it was clear to me that this line was not in condition. It was steep and filled with nothing but loose snow.
I set out traversing right to find us an alternative way to the top of the face. This next pitch was situated in an outrageously exposed position; reminiscent of Traverse of the God’s on the Eiger. Some steep moves brought me on to the ice field above, and a great viewing platform. With the day marching on we started moving together again and I continued up right seeking out a way back to the center of the face. As I scraped away at the ice, trying to excavate a worthwhile screw placement I wished I hadn’t agreed to hang on to the seconds pack; it really felt to be gaining weight! The quality of the ice would tempt you on with squeaky neve allowing fast secure progress, before throwing cruddier and all together tenuous terrain our way. Dave was out of sight for long periods, leaving me alone in my own tired world to find the way. Three times I dug for solid ice to protect us from a slip, only to fail and move on.
“I need to take a couple of minutes to have something to eat and drink,” Dave exclaimed when he joined me.
“Isn’t that what belays are for?” I replied, loathe to waste precious time. Nightfall wasn’t far away and we really needed to summit today, I wasn’t interested in another cold night in this vertical world. The way I’ve been used to climbing a majority of Alpine routes is in a single push, fast and light. It feels great to get in to a flow and eat up huge faces in a single day, but to achieve this requires an inherent constant pressure to keep moving efficiently. I quite easily slot in to the position of Mr. Motivator at times such as these, trying to emit positive energy and crack the whip a bit! This situation was a little different though and Dave was right, our aching bodies and frazzled minds would benefit from a quick timeout.
Up right a wide gully led to a shoulder above, likely providing an easy escape to more straightforward slopes to the summit. Even in our state of exhaustion we both agreed this was not the route for us! We were still having too much fun and wanted to savour our adventure; drawing the proudest line we could up this incredible mountain. Soon Dave was motoring up an eye catching ice goulotte between steep rock, before disappearing in to a chimney. In all the years we’ve climbed together I’ve never known Dave to look anything but solid, however long we’ve been on the go for. It was really enjoyable climbing, even with cramp threatening my aching muscles.
Dave had belayed below a bulging ice corner and confirmed that cramp had reached his weary body too. I accepted the pitch with far less gusto than usual, hoping that easier ground lay just round the corner. I bridged up in to the corner, placing a couple of cams out left. Yarding up with all my might, I swung at the bulge… Bomber! Continuing in this diagonal line I had to make a couple of very balancey bounces, before taking a belay below delicate steep ground. Surveying our options and how unprotected, one move in particular, would be for Dave, I suggested him making a lower traverse line and an arc around me to gain the ice field up and left. As soon as untying was required to flick round some bulging rock, I realized this may not have been the ultimate tactics! Ah well, shouldn’t be far to go now I thought.
I had hoped to sit staring out at a perfect sunset, framing the best mountain view of my life, riding the crest of an incredible wave of elation and relief on the summit our new mountain. When it became apparent that this wasn’t going to be the case I grabbed a couple of brief moments to enjoy the still beautiful picture as another day came to a close, while we faffed about on the ice. In all my years of life and climbing, adventure is what I’ve always strived for searching for the most memorable experiences I can find the opportunity to make. Provided with an old distant photo taken years earlier, by Moran, and trekking all this way in to the Himalayan wilderness to find a line up such an amazing unclimbed mountain is the meaning of adventure! Before too long I was pulling myself on to the snowy ridge. It swept down from the darkness up to my left. Somewhere up there was the summit and I didn’t want to stop till I was there, so I continued, 50m of rope slicing the shadows between us. When the ground finally stopped rising I threw my arms in the air and let out the loudest whoop I could muster.
It was 8.02pm on the 2nd October and we’d made it.
Now what next!
-
Transcendence Topo Transcendence ED2 1200m, Raja Peak 6267m
Raja means King in Hindi
- Thanks to: Dave for for putting up with me in this amazing year; Martin Moran for inviting us to climb such an awesome mountain; Chetan for none stop smiles and support; Gajendra and Hera for incredible food and support; everyone else I know for making life so amazing!! Also huge thanks to RAB and Lowe Alpine for keeping us looking good and feeling warm, as well as MEF for helping expeditions like this to happen.
Gothic Edge 31/01/2015
A short night taking in the luxuries of the very plush CIC hut was followed by an equally short approach to see what had acquired a winter coat high on the Ben. Our planned objective, Sioux Wall was close, but I guess you’d have described it’s winter attire as more of a fleece than a “coat”. Rocio Siemens and Owen Samuels had started up a …….. and this was definitely the whitest buttress, with no question as to whether it was in acceptable winter condition – it was going to look great in the pictures!
The Guidebook didn’t seem to provide many options so we put it away and decided to follow our noses up the best looking winter route we could see. The direct start to Gargoyle Wall looked like fun and with only a thin veneer of ice it was not going to be without interest. Pete put in a solid performance on what turned out to be a real calf burner with technical bridging and good hooks, continuing up the crack above to reach a ledge.
From here I traversed across to the top of the Gargoyle to get a look at what lay ahead. pete was hopeful there may be a possible line to the left of the arete, but all I could see was a couple of discontinuous wide cracks on the edge of nowhere, leading through a network of roofs. It looked unlikely!
I moved back towards the belay, before trending up some grooves to reach the large ledge below the Gargoyle Cracks. Pete was optimistic enough I would find a way, that I took the gear back and naively started to move upwards. Nice foot lips allowed progress to the first roof. I created a small nest of gear, before stepping high and pulling up scratching around on the smooth wall above. I cleared the rime from every piece of rock I thought provided any hope. I found a couple of tenuous hooks, but could not see any gear or bomber placements to tempt me forward. I dropped back down and justified my dithering to Pete, unsure whether I could find a way. I moved back up and this time committed to the high hooks. I scratched around to the left………A tiny seam, no wider than a knife, but my pick slotted right in, bomber! I moved up and across, stepping up and teetering on my front points.
Now I just needed to find some gear. I cleared around the roof and every possible seam, but nothing was to be seen. “Remember you’ve got the Peckers” suggested Pete. Of course a little bird like beak might just jam in to the same seam. I hooked higher and pushed one in. It pushed hard up against the side wall, but thankfully my hammer could still get to it. I banged it as deep as it would go, knowing this was likely to be my one life line. Phew!
No more than 3 meters higher I could make out a thin ledge. I can do this! I hooked upwards and searched around with my picks. A tiny turfy seam gave enough purchase to make a step, but nothing else felt great. I took the best of a bad bunch and gently moved up, with one OK axe and one poor. All of a sudden the better one ripped!……… Breathe…….I stepped back down and balanced enough that I could bang my axe in with the other. A few more hooks and I was at the ledge.
The ledge was no more than a foot or two wide and the wall above smooth and plum vertical. The pecker below was but a distant memory. The only thing that would make me feel any better about this mantel shelf was a bulldog. I hammered it in to the best turf I could find and tried to ignore the wobbling. Locked a picked in a seam far right and pushed down with my left……….On the ledge!
I shuffled to the arete on the right and balanced upwards. What a pitch!
Pete took the most logical finish and continued straight in to the darkness up the steep righthand crack. The Hard Rock Finish to Gremlins.
All in all a brilliant and direct collection of pitches up Gargoyle Wall, highly recommended, just don’t forget your pecker!!
Gothic Edge VII7 (although it does feel a grade harder than Babylon?)
P1 VI7 P2 IV4 P3 VII7 P4 VI7
Back at the CIC hut everyone managed to achieve staying up for New Year with plenty of whisky and even a little fireworks display!
The next two days were not crap either!!
Babylon VII7
Sioux Wall ??
Winter clung on through the drizzle
With the direct finish we can see how this gets VIII8. It’s very sustained and a good grade harder than Babylon or Darth Vader?
What an incredible route
On the 3rd rain to the summit removed any winter coats and we walked out. Back in the Cairngorms today however the Northern Corries are more wintery than they’ve been with a thick layer of rime ice. Let’s be having you!!
Gothic Edge VII7
Alps Summer Hit 2015 (Pics say 1000 words)
I managed to grab a quick couple of weeks in the Alps at the end of July this summer. It’s surprisingly long since I’ve enjoyed summer alpine bivis where you don’t feel like you’re about to die, so we really made an effort to pack them in.
The last couple of months had been one continuous heatwave, meaning things in the Alps were falling down at double the rate of knotts they normally do at this time of year! While we were there the Grand Couloir on the Goutier Normal route of Mont Blanc claimed a couple of victims, before being closed. The Three Monts route was also on the way out with the Everest style ladder we had to use in the descent from the Tacul being swallowed by it’s crevasse soon after.
Despite all this Matt Pigden and myself ended up having an incredible couple of weeks, climbing some mega classic routes I’ve always wanted to do, and even working some strong Italian holiday vibes in to the mix!
Low on the Bonatti Route ED2 7aA1
po………
sure……………
Thanks to Matt, Will, Gareth and the Lake Como newly weds for more great memories.
A great online based outdoor company with excellent products and service!
Pabbadise holiday snaps
When the weathers good this place has to be the best rock climbing destination in the UK!!…. And the weather was perfect. Highlights included the steepest E1, E3 and E4 of my life; swimming off the pristine white sand beach; not been thrown up on by any birds; explaining a 3:1 hauling system to Mick Fowler; making new friends and getting a pizza and cuppa handed to me by Donald on his boat.
There was also a pretty exciting rescue from Banded Walls. I’ll give more info on that soon. For now here’s some pics from an epic few days in an amazing place
.
South Avellano Tower Expedition Part 1
In December 2014 Andy Reeve, Will Harris, Dave Brown and myself were set on course for our expedition to the Avellano Valley, Chilean Patagonia. For Dave and myself it was to be our 2nd attempt on the huge granite monolith of the South Avellano Tower. My last post left off with team minus Dave, waiting out the delivery of our vital missing bag. It’s a month now since we returned and high time I gave you the low down on what happened in the down there.
Well our bag did eventually arrive the next day, our planned route to cart big walling gear to the base of the cliff worked and it was still there standing proud in one of the most beautiful and isolated valley’s I’ve ever been in. Instead of dragging you through all the details I can remember I’ll break the month down in to a few experiences that really stand out.
The Approach
The approach was always going to be interesting and there was still a plethora of unknowns with our
desired route before we left the UK. The previous route Dave and myself were taken on with Jim Donini back in February 2014 was real character building stuff! It was undoubtedly the shortest route, coming from Bara Mhurta and only involving about 16km to the base of the wall. The problem was that more than half of this involved wading through raging rivers and vertical jungle bashing, before steep granite slabs, moraine and boulder hopping brought you up to the top of a col, with only steep snow slopes to slide down on the far side. Given our spindly frames and the amount of gear and food we were arming ourselves with, this didn’t feel too attractive!
Instead we used Google maps to inspect the Avellano valley itself, hoping and praying that we would be able to recruit some local farmers to carry our monster loads for us, much nicer! The biggest issue was accessing this valley, with no road access and the 2nd biggest lake in S America in the way. In the end all roads lead to our Chilean friend, Pascual. Always full of smiles and armed with a little beret, he was to be our pied piper, making all the magic happen.
Once Pascual’s van had been fixed up in the garage we started the 5 hour drive down from Coyhaique to Porto Guadal nestled on the shore of Lago General Carrera. It felt great to finally be moving through some awe inspiring Patagonian scenery; an utter wilderness of wide open valleys, colossal rivers and lakes, surrounded by numerous jagged peaks, many still to see a person on their summit. The journey started painfully slow, but thankfully Pascual’s driving velocity doubled as the road surface changed from tarmac to dirt!
We maintained communication as well as possible, but often found ourselves going with the flow, hoping Pascual knew what was required. We had been warned of the Patagonian saying: “if you rush you lose time”, so were relieved to be told we should only have one day to kill before our planned voyage.
The Boat
Reeve couldn’t believe his eyes as the dust trail from Pascual’s van traced up the drive at only 5.05 am, no more than 5 minutes late! Before we knew it we were madly trying to bail out our ship. The sides were low and it couldn’t really be described as more than a glorified and very well used dinghy! With our bags we were already set to weigh the weight of 10 men and if we were going to stand a chance of hitting the far shore extra ballast was not acceptable. Fresh from it’s recent spasm I kept my back as straight as possible.
Next, we weren’t going anywhere until we’d punted the boat out of the stream it was moored in. Pascual shouted various commands we didn’t understand as we swung our logs around and pushed with all our might. Eventually we were floating free. Now, time to get that engine purring…….or not. Pascual began to look flustered as we bobbed around at the mercy of the currents. I noted the lack of any oars and the size of the gigantic lake behind us. The adventure had definitely begun!
Once the engine finally started, it would cut out just as quickly. In the end I remembered the important saying I had learnt in boy scouts: “if you can’t duck it..” and with that we were on our way, with 40hp of petrol power behind us. As we moved out in to the open water we started to realize just how big this lake was, winds blew from the West and waves started to break over the side of the boat. Before long we were all sitting like soaked rats in a pirate’s hold and hoping the journey would end before we all got frostbite, scurvy or both.
40Km we travelled on that little boat. Periodically Pascual would point at the jerry cans sliding around the deck and indicate that he did indeed want us to pour fuel in to the tank to keep us chugging. I think about a 50% hit was the record. At another point Pascual started to shout and frantically grabbed the engine. Will dived in to help and together they re-attached our power, narrowly averting disaster.
The Farmers
It was great to land on dry land to a golden welcome from our farmer’s, Louis and Kristian. Young Kristian’s enthusiasm was inspiring and we had some great fun miming conversations to each other. Unfortunately the horses weren’t too happy with the size of our bags and decided to smash the two cartons of wine we’d brought, Louis quickly demolished any remains (good thing their was rum he didn’t know about). The trails up the valley were easy-going and even easier with our empty packs.
That night we stayed on the most idyllic farm I’ve ever been to.
We arrived in the sunshine and were promptly asked what meat we might like for dinner: sheep or goat? We chose goat and 30 seconds later a Billy goat was being slaughtered at the side of the field. Now that’s good customer service! I sat and watched Kristian skinning the goat, as it’s brothers and sisters pranced around gleefully. The cats and dogs waited patiently for their lickings, while a mother hen lead her line of chick’s past. At most the 40km long valley houses 5 people at any one time, their only vague tie with the outside world being through a radio connected to a car battery. Quite a place and the best Chiva I’ve ever tasted!
Mid afternoon the next day and Louis led his horses across one final river, before stopping in some woods. He jumped off his horse, turned around and with a big smile declared “El Campo”.
It was a shame to crush someone that looked so pleased with themself, but our planned camp was still another 6km. After pleading with Louis we made our way through the woods, trying to force a way through the maze of dead wood and undergrowth. Anything to stop us from becoming mules any sooner than absolutely necessary! We gained about 100m, before saying our farewells and setting about carrying the three huge loads we would each be required to ferry.
The extra level of effort was quickly rewarded with some really spectacular views of the objective we came for. Approaching along the flat riverbed (with numerous icy river crossings), the South Avellano Tower rears straight up in front of you, like some gigantic gothic pillar.
Adrenaline surged through my veins and a huge smile forced on to my face. I’d only seen the face from this angle in one photo, American Dave Anderson had taken years ago and it was a really spectacular sight.
Best of all it was bone dry and the sun was shining. We had been concerned that December might be too early, but it was in perfect condition, sitting ready for us to climb!
Winter Conditions Report – Peak District, Snowdonia 7/02/2015
So it’s a week since I returned to our frozen Isle from a month in the Alps and it seems only right to bosh out a quick report about the awesome conditions available in England and Wales.
There really has been a deep freeze throughout the UK, with many rare to form ice routes seeing ascents, “The Shield” on the Ben has undoubtedly caused me the greatest pain and I can only hope that it will be in condition later this month.
Winter climbing in The Peak District has been in full swing this last week, with numerous ascents of Mam Tor Gully, Back Tor and Kinder Downfall.
I believe that the main face routes on Mam Tor never hit prime condition. This is usually due to the turf just being too dry, before the freeze sets in and can make the face both terrifying and dangerous to climb. Mam Tor gully has also seen several ski descents. Driving past on Friday (7th February) the tufty South face is now stripped of snow, although the N face and gully may well still be skiable.
Friday 7th February
Over on Kinder, it was amazing to have a brilliant days ski mountaineering on Friday. James Turnball, Josh Fawcett and myself skinned up from Edale, and across the great plateau to arrive at the Downfall. We found one other skinning track around the rim and it was really cool to be sliding along the great wilderness of Kinder Scout, with breath taking views on all sides. The Downfall climb and Downfall Right Hand both had great ice on them on Friday. The Direct was a long way off and the direct finish to Right hand was probably climbable (although I did see a large chunk of ice dislodged on abseil). I was also amazed by the other ice climbing potential here, with some smaller steeper icefalls up to the left (none quite safely climbable) and a great icefall out to the right. We climbed the initial section of downfall climb, before traversing out right to have a look. Unfortunately sun crept round the corner (about 12pm) and with the steep chandelles looking ominous near it’s top, we decided to give it a careful top rope instead. It turned out to be an awesome little icefall (about vi 6), which in hindsight would have been OK without the sun. The ski descent down slopes to skier’s right of Jacobs Ladder left something to be desired, back in the shade at 3pm, providing it with an icy crust. All in all though, a wicked day. If only you could go ski touring in the Peak District every week.
4th and 5th February
North Wales has also provided a couple of great days climbing this week. I’ve never seen a cliff so hoared up and icy in England or Wales as Clogwyn Du was on Wednesday. Thanks for Phil Hargreaves patience on the ultra classic El Mancho, one of the best mixed routes I’ve climbed for a long time! We then took advantage of the great ice on Left Hand Branch. Thursday saw another early start with James Turnball, heading to Crib Goch for a change. Unfortunately some rain and warm temperatures on the approach, scared us off and sent us running for the most reliable (and busy) destination. That said we never had to queue for any routes and after recovering from our 50 minute approach we climbed Pillar Chimney. This has a brilliant icefall up the mouth of the chimney pitch at the minute, really fun Vi 6 climbing. We finished off on Cleft Gully, which also has great ice on the first pitch right now.
News from the Lake District is that high North facing crags, such as Scafell are staying hoared and frozen, while crags like Bowfell buttress have been thawing out. Hopefully more on this soon.
It looks like we’re beginning to see the start of a thaw right now and nothing this good lasts forever, so get out there amongst it in this winter wonderland.
Patagonia Update – where’s the bag?
“Your not on that flight!” said the man over the ticket booking line. I held my breath as I paused to think what this meant. We were on the way to London Heathrow airport, when we’d check the internet to see which terminal our flight departed from. No results came up, so now we were on the phone to the ticket company.
The LAN flight had been cancelled since we left. “Your on a flight to Madrid 1.5 hours earlier said the man.” I looked at my watch; this was going to be close. On our arrival at the check in desk, the man looked bemused. He turned the screen to show us that our names were down, but with no information as to how we were flying! Thankfully he had quite a jolly zen calm vibe going on, which relaxed us slightly. A couple of hours later we were relieved to be on a flight to Madrid, which all being well, should lead to an arrival in Santiago in time for our internal flight.
This relief didn’t last long, as we realised we would be landing almost 2 hours late for our connecting flight to Sau Paulo. We hit the ground running, discovering first that the LAN check in desk was closed, before finding a LAN flight for Santiago already in boarding. In the end a nice women behind the desk produced 2 hand drawn boarding passes! but said it was unlikely our bags would make the same flight.
We couldn’t believe our eyes 15 hours later when our bags started to appear on the carrousel. It felt too good to be true…… and it was. Our final bag didn’t appear.
We arrived in Coyhaique, Chile on time, via the roughest descent I’ve ever experienced, complete with our 3rd team member Andy Reeve. Calls from our quaint little hostel over the past two days, produced no word of the missing bag. We spent time calculating the rope and climbing gear that would be required to replace the missing kit and it is a lot, also being very difficult to source. We have passed the time with standard holiday activities of lots of eating and lots of shopping (for 3 weeks worth of food and supplies)! We’ve also being discovering the joys of portaledges. One can only hope that they’re easier to handle when suspended vertically on the side of a cliff!
Our feet are getting very itchy now, but today things have started to look up, with confirmation that the bag has reached Santiago and may even make it to Coyhaique this evening all being well. This may just time perfectly now that we know Pascual is on his way to pick us up from 4 hours South in Porto Guadal. He also holds the boat with which to cross Lago General Carrera in order to reach the Avellano Valley and communication means with which to reach the farmers at the start of the valley, whom we hope will provide horses for our huge bags to the base of the wall. On top of all this, the forecast currently looks pretty good.
We all can’t wait to get up there in the mountains! Fingers crossed things may go a little more smoothly.
Undiscovered Patagonia
One year ago we Dave Brown and myself were introduced to an unbelievable area near the Northern Patagonian Icecap in Chile.
Jim Donini was our Guide and what he introduced us to was beyond our wildest dreams.
We spent a week of amazing weather exploring a paradise of 7 separate towers of granite, from tall slender ridges, to steep huge monoliths all surrounded by beautiful mountains and lush temperate rainforest.
It was an absolute pleasure to climb a nice new route with such a legend as Jim. The most obvious challenge lay opposite the Tuff Arete, however.
We had the pleasure of making a fun 1st ascent with Jim on what became known as the Tuff.
The huge granite wall opposite was the most obvious challenge and impossible to ignore. It was ginormous, but if it held the same quality granite we’d touched it may just go alpine style!
It was not the same quality granite. It was slick and smooth, the closest thing to El Cap I’d ever laid my hands on! We spent 6 hours on the wall and were shut down in three different places. The grooves were also steeper than they appeared, with roofs lined by small finger cracks, often containing some lichen. It truly is an awe inspiring piece of rock. It will go, but not like this. We abseiled off from just 90m up the wall. It appears to be 1000m high at this point.
Hours were spent lounging about at the base of the wall, staring up at the monster above.
We woke tired the next morning, but our British roots left us struggling to waste yet another fine day. We reached the glacier, snaking over it to find the base of the longest most obvious feature we could find, a beautiful slither of granite shooting skyward. It provided a total of around 800m of exquisite climbing to reach it’s tiny summit, incorporating a knife edge ridge traverse, as well as many exposed cracks and grooves on high quality granite. “The Crown Jewels” (800m E3) stands proud with the best alpine rock routes I’ve done.
We couldn’t stay away from this wall for long and so now we are returning, with a strong team of four: Dave Brown, Will Harris, Andy Reeve and myself, well equipped for whatever the wall may throw at us.
Plans are moving fast to secure a boat across Lago General Carrera to access a longer approach of around 35km up the Avellano valley, using local farmers and mules.
Time to head to the airport – Merry Christmas everyone!!
El Chalten Success
There are things you need to know and places you need to be aware of, which really can’t wait any longer!
I’ll start the story last January in El Chalten; ramshackle town nestled beneath the Southern Patagonian icecap, watching weather forecasts. There have been some serious advances with weather forecasting over recent years meaning a lot of time spent staring at computer screens! First it takes some familiarization with the forecasts to know how a wind speed on paper may translate to what you experience in the mountains. It’s easy to look at a 25 Knott speed and believe that you have felt and indeed dealt with far worse in Scotland on a regular basis. However, a 25 Knott wind forecast actually translated to potentially being picked up and flung to the ground as Dave discovered on one of many Torre forays (a better stance and slightly larger stature may prevent this). The thing, which really turned out to be the most important on the forecasts, was the pressure, which would generally determine the quality and reliability of any “weather windows.”
Time after time we would watch a two-day section of good weather approaching, only for it to be sucked in to 10 hours of mediocre conditions. A walk in the Torre glacier, base camp for attacks on any of the Torre spires as well as a whole host of other world class alpine climbing, involves 6-9 hours all terrain walking. This means the best tactics to get anything done are to carry a large stash of gear up to basecamp and leave it there, ready to retrieve it and pounce as soon as good weather finally appears. Six times we walked in to this camp and twice I walked in to Piedra Negra on the other side of the range. Only one of the Torre trips really produced any major climbing success.
Camping at the Huber brothers camp on the rock Island at the base of the glacier, Torre spires on one side and Fitzroy’s numerous satellite summits on the other really was an incredible place to be. We had been in Patagonia for almost a month, without getting to the top of anything, so looking out of the tent one morning and seeing De L’S, the smallest of Fitzroy’s satellites standing clear was enough to send us running. It stayed clear long enough to allow us to find the correct approach couloir, but that was it. Reaching the col at the start of the Austrian route proper we came head on with a strong icy wind and pelting snow. This was definitely not going to be a rock climb as the guide indicated! The first short wall I came to provided some involved and very fun Scottish tech 7 climbing, using a series of thin cracks and crossing a small roof. Reaching the top of this and seeing the four long steep pitches behind, would have been enough to send anyone not versed in Scottish winter climbing running back with there axe between their legs, but thankfully that wasn’t us. Several interesting chimney and crack pitches followed, with no possible opportunity to remove ones gloves. The crux came with a French 6a crack pitch in full on blizzard conditions to reach the small summit.
Next we practiced our abseiling in Patagonian winds technique! The first abseil wouldn’t pull and I ascended back up our worryingly thin 8mm rope in order to free it. Thankfully we reached the approach couloir by dusk and were curled up in our tent by 1am, content in the knowledge that we had managed our first Patagonian adventure.
The next day we woke to gorgeous sunshine and calm conditions. There was no way we could head straight out again, at least not for anything major. We shared our camp with some American friends, Scott Beckett and Troutman (Coleman Blakely), who were in an equally worn down state of existence. Scott was, however, very well prepared with an unlimited satellite phone and a laptop, meaning he could download weather forecasts. By 1pm the forecast had arrived and I sat with Scott searching for opportunity in the coming days. We had around 4 days food, but something terrible had happened. Any remaining good weather had been swallowed up by the Patagonian weather demons! Gutted! It was good to finally get something done, but in this week of camping here on the glacier we hoped for more. I stared at the screen feeling a mixture of disappointment and relief that we could rest. Seeing that the snows weren’t due to start until 10am the following morning I suggested the only option was to climb something over night, not really expecting anyone to take me seriously. I get things done in the mountains because I’m keen. Repeated positive adventures and experiences have conditioned me to push for opportunity where others see none and when I my self sometimes feel like I can’t really be bothered. Many times these ideas are refused, quashed or laughed off, but other times I find people just crazy enough to put them in to action. A one-night window would require a smaller climb to allow success, something we could do quickly. I’m not sure who mentioned it first, but Exocet on Cerro Standhart was an obvious option and a really classic line leading to an otherworldly summit topped by rhyme ice mushrooms.
All four of us were tired and Dave quickly made the decision that he “categorically did not want to climb Cerro Standhart tonight”. The seed had been planted, however, and pretty soon our remaining team of three-combined psyche to ignore our aching bodies and prepare gear for our nighttime assault. At 7pm Jason Kruk and Hayden Kennedy stopped by our camp and were able to join in with a disco dancing send off to Daft Punk’s Up all Night to get Lucky. This was surreal and fun, the only downside been that my legs ached even more as we started up the glacier.
We powered up to the col and the start of our route about 1200m above in just 2 hours, with fantastic views of a bright orange Fitzroy behind. At the col views of the white wilderness of the ice cap beyond were accompanied by a Baltic wind. I sorted the ropes and a belay, while Scott prepared to lead the first pitches. Troutman, on the other hand, saw this as the perfect opportunity to roll a cigarette! Quite impressive I have to admit, he then hunkered down and attempted to light it. Without doubt the most committed mountain smoker I’ve ever climbed with and apparently I was lucky nothing more potent was available.
Scott fired out the first pitch with ease as it went dark and I zipped my coat up wondering what on earth we were thinking! Far below I could see Dave’s head torch flickering: probably having a pee and brushing his teeth, before curling up in his nice warm sleeping bag. Scott climbed the 2nd trickier 60m pitch placing a sum total of 2 pieces of gear: one for each tension traverse, very impressive stuff. We were lucky to have Scott along for these pitches, because, not only was he a very talented rock climber, having completed the Yosemite double, climbing El Capitan and Washington Column (over 1400m of steep granite climbing) in under 24 hours, but this was actually his 3rd attempt at Excocet and he really knew these pitches. Following as two seconds required some fancy rope work and I even had to untie from my rope while attached to Troutman, in the hope that it would reach me again!
At the base of the steep wall above we stopped to brew up. Troutman exclaimed that he had my “Johnnys”, to which I replied I didn’t think we’d reached that level of required comfort yet. Next the jet boil stove decided not to work, leaving us contemplating the prospect of a climb with no liquid and no dinner, or more likely retreat! Thankfully a prayer like circular motion and some skillful engineering allowed Scott to save the night and we continued.
Before too long we reached the base of the huge chimney recess and the reigns were handed over to me. I made my way back in to the depths of the icy chimney, to find a thin vertical strip of ice leading upwards. It felt great to be back on the sharp end, until I realized the walls were closing in on me, like some icy trap from an Indiana Jones film. Soon the vertical walls covered in a veneer of ice were so tight that I had to turn my shoulders side on, slithering up, while somehow squeezing my other hand through to retrieve and place my other axe. A little awkward to say the least.
Next I left my very trusting partners hanging in hell, while I climbed 60m of vertical water ice directly above their heads. I was as gentle as possible, but as with any water ice there was only so much I could do to stop icy rocks raining down on them, with nowhere to hide in the narrow confines of the chimney. All they had for protection was one very small rucksack, which they cowered behind. I dragged myself on to a nice ledge at the top of the pitch, happy in the knowledge, I had led my steep ice for the day. Soon after starting climbing, however, both Trout and Scott came tight on the rope. A stream of shouting and groaning followed, before they eventually dragged themselves, bloody faced, on to the ledge. I took one look at them and knew what I had to do! I set off with conviction up the smooth vertical ice wall above, before the flash pump moved in. Undoubtedly the three steepest ice pitches I’ve ever lead in a row, given WI5, 5+, 5+.
Scott took over from here taking on the final steep water ice as the chimney opened out with huge slabs flowing with a thick veil of icy rhyme on either side. This is where Trout and I hung out from two ice screws, while Scott disappeared out of sight, beyond the top of the chimney. We were really close now. This one more rope length and we should be on the summit ice field. Our minds and bodies were tired, but soon we’d be on the way back to safety. We could see clouds building in the distance and were well aware that our few hours of grace were about to come to an end. I donned my goggles as the winds picked up and remember feeling a peaceful calm at this stance. Troutman lit another rolly. Our little water was long since gone, but the tobacco smoke smelt good in this situation. I pondered for a moment before removing my glove and taking the ugly slug. I drew in the smoke and didn’t regret it. It felt warm and comforting, placing me somewhere else entirely.
What felt like an eternity later we started moving and as soon as I reached the col I could see why. The far side dropped back away to the ice cap and the only way to progress was an overhanging wall of rhyme ice, with no protection to start! It looked so unlikely and it wasn’t until you placed your axes and committed that you realized what was possible. The placements were solid and on a top rope it was great fun. The pitch landed us in an otherworldly dimension, a floating white world akin to an ice palace suspended on a cloud. We floated past the first ice tower on the way to the highest mushroom. Fitzroy stood proud away to our left a long drop to the Torre glacier between. To our right the ground fell away to a world of pure white scattered with a few barely touched summits. We made a belay beneath the summit mushroom and gazed along the chain of our spires, clouds swirling around. Cerro Torre looked only a stones throw away and Torre Egger was even closer. Troutman lead us home to the summit of the mushroom, an ever-changing sculpture of wind formed ice. We took it in turns to tag the summit amidst building winds and hastened retreat.
Passing the first chimney stance I realized just how awful it must have been for Scott and Trout. Clipping in and pulling the ropes was actually quite a logistical nightmare with the three of us. Scott’s harness had been noticeably causing him pain for some time, but this was the final straw. He groaned and winced, complaining that his balls had disappeared inside himself! I wedged myself in the chimney below and forced my knee up under his bum, in an attempt to release some pressure.
As we emerged from the base of the chimney a blizzard was taking hold and visibility was low. I began to doze at stances, waiting my turn to slide down the rope. I shared my final sugary gels, as Scott did a great job of showing the way. Unfortunately using a different rope set up meant a couple of long waits to find new abseil points, right when the end was in sight. A roped leap over the large bergschrund and some white wading led us back to our cozy tents.
Thanks to Scott, Troutman and Dave for an awesome couple of days.
Stay tuned for the things you need to hear about even more in Northern Patagonia.
crookclimbing 