Extracts from Newsletter 18
Next
Newsletter
Previous Newsletter
Newsletter Index
Ice climbing in Cogne, piste skiing in various locations; but something was missing. Phil Cox and I had hoped to ski tour to the summit of Pique d'Arolla, but this was thwarted by numerous avalanches caused by the recent heavy snowfall. We therefore considered the Petite Aiguille Verte (3512 m), a relatively short climb starting from the top station of the Grands Montets. Expecting deep snow we only took one technical axe, 2 ice screws and one snow stake, but now we were faced with 30-40 degree iron-hard, bare glacier ice for at least 2 rope lengths before we could traverse to the classic NW ridge. It was clear that this normally simple climb (only rated F/PD-) would have to be pitched. After faffing around on the direct start, inextricably clogging the ice screws in the minus 20 degree temperatures (it was minus 12 in the valley for heavens sake!), and on the verge of giving up, we eventually saw a possible line to the left of the glacier on which there was a smidging of snow cover. Hammering the ice screws in as though they were pitons, and thankful for the snow stake, we eventually reached the traverse and more amenable snow conditions. A steep incline with occasional patches of hard ice was relatively easily crossed, hardly noticing the rimaye, before we soon reached the rocky arete. In clear view of visitors to the top station throughout the climb it was evident that we were to be the star entertainment for all but the hardened skiers.
By the time we reached the arete we were in full, warm sunshine and the climb was turning into the classic route that it was supposed to be. Easy pitching (about three rope lengths) led to a more tricky crux just below the exposed summit, although after clearing away the resident snow large holds were soon found which gave access to the rocky top and its fantastic views of Mont Blanc, the Chamonix Aiguilles, the Dru and the Aiguille Verte proper. The guide book lists about 1-2 hours for this climb, but it took us more like four and a half; I can only hope that winter times are meant to be appreciably longer! Nevertheless, this was my first successful winter alpine summit and I graded it at more like PD+, especially with our minimalist gear. After the obligatory photo calls on top, and a quick wave to the admiring onlookers (I assume they were looking since it was too far away for us to see and there was nobody else climbing), we began the descent. Like the ascent, this also took appreciably longer than the guide book indicated, but at least we reached the cable car before closing time (quite different from the last occasion on the Index with Alan when we were about 2 hours late and had to walk home). Once again the snow stake more than proved its worth and I am now anardent fan of this low tech piece of equipment - so much so that I now have two!
But now another bonus; to be told at the station that the cable car was broken and that we would have to be helicoptered down. What a shame. Another lifelong ambition fullfilled as sitting next to the pilot we swooped over the col and took in a big loop leading down to the mid station. Five minutes of exhilaration almost comparing with the climb itself. But wait, we are not yet finished. Since the helicopter could not land too close to the mid station our next modus operandi was waiting - a skidoo. I've never been on one of these either, so three firsts all in one day -wow!!
Derek 26th January 1998
Many of you will know that there is something remarkably exhilarating about hanging off a pair of ice axes on near vertical ground when your out on the live end. You swing the axe in a graceful arc... thwack... thwack... each a perfect first time placement, feet step up, spaced apart for stability - another upward movement completed. Just magic, on the edge.
You peer upwards through steamed up glacier glasses, calculating the best line, tweaking out the cliffs secrets, taking the line of least resistance. Raw indigo blue sky above contrasts against the brilliant white surroundings - a glimpse of heaven to the ice climber.
Seagulls glide past on the gentle updraft as afternoon walkers stroll past on the shingle beach below dodging the flying debris. ???? What ! I hear you say, seagulls ? beach ? Yes folks, we are not talking about isolated, freezing mountains covered in a one weekend a year cloak of snow and ice, but Chalk, and not the type you rub on the end of a snooker cue, but that dire substance that strikes fear into the heart of the uninitiated climber.
I must admit the temptation of some practice, quasi-ice climbing before the winter season got the better of me, and coupled with a weekend with nothing to do and no climbing partners to do anything else with, I trotted down to Saltdean in the MG to tentatively reccy the area.
Something grabbed my attention as I wondered around the base of the cliff. The striking lines, the size (150' so not a committing as Dover), the good quality chalk, the situation and more importantly, it is only 40 minutes drive away. That visit, all I did was do a little traversing and suss out a couple of routes that the high tide would allow me to get to.
A few weeks latter I was well kitted out - physically and mentally. One of the clubs 50m ab ropes, a couple of Ropeman's (thanks Gary), 26 sharp metal points and the "common sense" part of the brain carefully wrapped up at home in a safe warm place.
I absailed down Tiptoe Through The Tulips, (complete with bystanders - "What you doing that for ?" "I don't know, piss off") a full rope length, and then clipped into the two Ropeman ascenders for the climb. Quite loose initially, the climbing was totally absorbing, not many solid placements and insecure chalk making it essential to spread the weight evenly between tools and feet for each and every movement. An improvement in the chalk mid-way made things a little less stressful although the rope was now arcing up at a disconcertingly diagonal angle - a fall would not have been pleasant and the flints sticking out looked disturbingly sharp.
A difficult step around an area of loose unattached earth, complete with shrubbery (not tulips though), after going too high up the better chalk, and I was heading for the top along an easier slab and reasonably solid exit. The route was graded IV, I guess that although the route was not that steep, the care and technique needed on the loose rock increased the grade somewhat. Doesn't sound that appealing does it !!
I next set the rope up for Saltdean Slab, at grade II a much easier climb although far more enjoyable because of the improvement in looseness and security of placements; this was more like it. Lastly I climbed Saltdean Slab Direct, grade IV. Now this was excellent. A plumb vertical start for 15/20', but this time on perfect chalk, across a slab and then up a steeper, looser but very technical wall to exit. Thwack, thwack, step, step, PULL. Outstanding climbing, strenuous but secure.
So after a day like that, what could I do but enlist the services of some unsuspecting companions to explore more of Saltdean's delights. Graham had no choice in the matter - I was driving - but Richard, well, he came down of his own free will !!
We started off on Saltdean Slab to warm up. This time I was leading - just three warthogs for gear on a 120' route (but then they would have probably come out anyway so why carry the extra weight) but I knew the climb and it was technically easy. Graham and Richard cruised it, learning the nuances of chalk climbing; that's to say the art of not making too many hits because the whole area around your axe loosens up and falls off !
Next I had something a little more challenging in mind. Exlax, a starred route and a striking line up a corner to a stance mid-way then continuing with a steep bulge, slab and hanging ramp to exit. At grade IV/V, leading it was not an option with only three runners so I dropped a fixed line for a Ropeman to back up the fixed gear and runners that I would put in - you can't be too safe on the white stuff.
It was only scary when you stopped climbing. The corner was totally absorbing, luckily just off vertical with good placements for the axes (in contrast to rock climbing the green stuff takes the best placements) it was certainly nice to be able to bridge out and take the weight off my arms. The odd rusting in-situ warthog came as a nice surprise and once clipped slowly disappeared below calf muscles straining to maintain front points on an even keel.
At the stance I pondered on a belay. Wow !! No chance, far too frightening a position to be in, balanced as I was on a 10' wide blade of chalk sticking straight outwards from the cliff. Exposure in the extreme - from a nice safe, 90' confined corner to teetering around on an airy 80' arete.
So with a few thoughts along the lines of what the hell am I doing here, I pummeled in a warthog at the expense of far too much energy and teetered off up to the bulge - thwack, thwack over the top, step high and pull through onto the slab. More good chalk but by now my calves and arms were screaming nasty messages to my brain.
Below the head wall now. Time for another warthog. Only problem was I didn?t really have the strength left to hit it hard enough. Thud, thud, rest, thud, thud, rest, thud, thud, rest. Finally it was in and clipped but now I could barely raise my arms above my head. The final two foot wide hanging ramp gave the only easy way though the vertical head wall. I say "hanging ramp", but perhaps I should describe it as "partially detached ramp" !! An impressively deep 1' wide crack snaked up the bottom half and as it formed the top of the overhang underneath - it wasn't actually supported by anything.
There was no other option though and onto it I gingerly stepped. It was at this point that I realised the head wall also bulged out above the ramp, pushing you off balance and out into the 140' yawning drop. It was impossible to swing the left axe because of the bulge. I maintained my balance with only a tentative hook in loose rubbish whilst stepping up. Shit this was hard. Another iffy move and finally the climb got the better of me. With literally two feet to go before being able to swing an axe over the top, the chalk ran out and topsoil took over. Pathetically weak arms vainly swiped in all directions desperate for grip but producing nothing more than torrents of dust and earth that poured all over me. Fuck this. I grabbed the fixed rope and pulled away, flopping over the top in a quivering dusty white mass, impaling myself on a carelessly discarded axe as I did so.
What a buzz. Adrenaline was pumping - big time - and it was a good few minutes before I could get myself together and belay Richard and Graham. The route had pushed me towards that fine line but I had beaten it - what a feeling.
Trevor
I didn't take long to decide that John Temple's plan to visit Nepal during October/November was too good to miss, particularly since our last trip to Kenya had been so successful. Not only that, it promised to be cheap! So, a quick check; yes, the monsoon should have ended, yes I could afford a month away (even though John was going for two), and yes all my vaccinations were up to date. Nevertheless, it was a bit tight. Friendly persuasion convinced Jill that she could meet me at Heathrow with my climbing kit so that on returning from Philadelphia I could swap `smart' clothes and briefcase for salopettes and rucksack. As it happens I spent 6 hours at Heathrow, more than enough for a quick hello and breakfast together in the executive lounge. After a change of terminal checking in with Aeroflot was less painful than I had expected, and there was not one beefy Russian air hostess to be seen. Nor for that matter could I see the three people that I was supposed to be travelling with!
A quick inspection of all the passengers excluded most as likely candidates until two long haired `possibles' suddenly arrived. Confirmation came just as I approached by the later arrival of the one member that I had previously seen (once). Scattered throughout the cramped plane we flew via Moscow (very long stopover) and Shajah before landing in Kathmandu late the next day. After some confusion at the airport (we thought that we were being met), while at the same time trying to keep our baggage in sight, we were divided into two taxis and deposited at Thamel; hopefully somewhere close to our rendezvous, the Kathmandu Guest House. The last day of an important Hindu festival did not help as we carried excess luggage through the crowded streets, but eventually we met a relaxed (?) John at the guest house.
Little time was spent in Kathmandu - just enough to buy a few essential items that the others had (un)intentionally left behind, like drinking flasks - and we were off to collect the last member of the team. Having arrived a week early, John had hired a Sirdar to recruit the porters and arrange transport to the roadhead at Jiri. Mingma (the Sirdar) and the other Nepalese were a friendly bunch, although we did have a few problems over interpretation of the travel arrangements! John was cool throughout!! It had been dark for ages when we arrived at Jiri, but in the morning the hazy mountain view was fantastic, quite a contrast from the earlier sight of a goat being dispatched in record time.
The trek to Lukla - the more lazy parties take a plane from Kathmandu - took a transverse mountain section through numerous small villages with ample opportunity to note the people, culture and environment. The seven day walk was mostly uneventful, except that early on Roy hurt his neck after falling from the path when it refused to hold his weight, and a minor diversion by three of us exposed us to the full fury of the local leeches. Alex for some reason seemed to like these insidious creatures, but they made me somewhat paranoic. In a further two days we had crossed the snowy Zatrwala Pass and set up base camp on the north side of Mera Peak near Dig Kharka. Roy, unfortunately, flew back to Kathmandu to recuperate.
Originally it had been our intention to attempt a new route on the north face after first acclimatising via the `tourist route'. Unfortunately, massive seracs lining the upper regions of the face regularly took to the air creating vast avalanches in their wake and we were soon convinced that any routes on this side presented an unacceptable health risk.
John at this time was trying desperately to infect us all with some respiratory bug that he had picked up in Kathmandu, but by good fortune he seemed to be keeping it to himself. A rest day and we were off to camp 1 on the Mera La at 5400 m. Lassitude and poor appetite were a problem for me here, but the others seemed to have no problem finishing off my share of the food. An aspirin cleared the faint headache that was trying to break through. On to camp 2 at 5800 m, but beaten to the best camping spots by a Himalayan Kingdoms group - or at least by their porters! We climbed Alpine style from base camp and it was difficult to outpace local porters who despite their loads were immensely fast. The punters from these groups, of course, were only carrying day sacks. Anyway, we got two tents up with ease on a rocky outcrop, but the platform that John and Mike constructed was an engineering masterpiece. Mind you, it did take them about 2 hours to build!
Having succumbed to John's bug, Mike decided to stay at camp the next day, while John made his way back to base. At 4.00 am, with intense cold, Tony, Alex and me set off to break trail to the summit. Soft snow was a problem virtually all the way as we all took turns to consolidate a reasonable track. At dawn, magnificent views of the surrounding mountains unfolded, which to some extent detracted from the multiple false summits that Mera has. Just over 5 hours later there was no more up - we were at 6461 m, with tremendous views of Makalu, Everest, Choy Oyo and Kanchenjunga. Thirty minutes later these disappeared in the mist and later parties were less fortunate than ourselves.
Normally mountain descents are easy, but with poor snow it was hard and tiring work. At camp 2 I was tired, and with the added burden of tents I was ready to stop at camp 1. No such luck, however, we were going for base camp. The lack of food over several days was taking its toll. Fortunately Mike had remained at high camp and was fit enough to take an additional load. Arriving at base camp and the accompanying mug of tea was bliss! Definitely no walking tomorrow!
A decision to move base camp to Mosem Kharka on the south side of the mountain was made since an exploratory foray had suggested that this offered new route possibilities. With time running out for me I returned to Lukla and thence to Kathmandu. Taking the plane this time saved many days and the steep airfield poised over a deep ravine provided excitement for those aircraft that failed to gather Sufficient speed.
Three days white water rafting and three days sightseeing were a nice way to complete the stay in Nepal, and enough to elicit the promise that I would be back again some day.
Derek 8th December 1997
Some people think that it is only possible to climb sandstone when it has been bone dry for at least two months, the sun is high in the sky and the temperatures are in the 70's. I too had this mistaken view until being dragged kicking and screaming down to Bowles Rocks with the promise of quality climbing. Climbing at this time of year involves some very special preparations, firstly clothing; Helly Hanson from head to toe, fleece, more fleece and a woolly hat! for some strange reason Ian also includes a lacy bra, strange yes, unexpected .....
Once at Bowles the true extent of the horror unfolds. Yes it is climbable, yes its cold and yes there are even more opportunities to make a total fool of yourself. Gary managed this by hanging from a nasty roof crack trapped by a hand jam feebly asking for a tight rope, nice one Gary. Trevor, Mark Anje and Ian managed to fail spectacularly on slightly damp climbs that they had all done many times before, all using the feeble excuse that they were out of condition, if only we could carry on using this excuse for six or seven months ...
The real problem is that once you realise that you can climb in the cold months all those plans you had for the close season go out of the window as you scour the countryside for dry sandstone to feed to that climbing addiction. I must stop now as the nice man in a white coat is coming to give me my pills.
Pete.
Mark Holmes(MH), Richard Groves (RG), Trevor Clarke (TC), Newall Hunter (NH)
"Water has three and one half states and can be categorised, from a climbers point of view, as follows:-
| TYPE | What | Score | Comment |
| Hard Water | Ice | 10 | We are in the Alps |
| Half Hard Water | Snow | 7 | We are in Scotland |
| Soft water | Wet | 0 | We are in the Lakes |
Captains Log 11/12/97
20:00 left Sussex (no border patrols encountered)
20:45 Stationary on M25 junction 15 (For no apparent reason, so nothing new there).
22:00 No log as asleep (Except driver, possibly).
12/12/97 - ICE
05:00 Arrive at hut, 4 pints south of Avimore.
05:01 Put our heads down for a quick nap.
07:00 Alarms set for this time 08:05 Awoke to "Ouhhh %£#*& !!" (Translated to "we're late").
09:00 Left Cairn Gorm car park (Took chair lift to Middle Level).
09:10 Realised "middle" in Scotland does not translate to ½ but one twelth
11:00 Started "Ice" Climbs MH/NH on "The Runnel" Grade III, 300ft. (Score 7/10). TC/RG on "Aladdin Buttress" IV, 400ft. (Score 8/10).
16:00 Arrived at the top of the routes. (4 pitches each).
16:01 Set off in darkness for the Cairn Gorm car park. torches required by non-carrot eaters TC.
19:00 True "outdoor-ites" make and eat teas (tea = evening meal) (RG/TC).
20:00 True "Pub-ites" order bar meal in Avimore. (NH/MH). 20:01 Half true "outdoor-ites" order "fuel" (fuel = food, RG 1997).
13/12/97 - SNOW
07:00 Is it really that time again!! (or is my watch still on BST)
08:15 Leave Cairn Gorm car park. (We love the middle level chair lift)
10:30 Started "mixed snow" climbs. RG/TC "Seam" IV, 300ft (10/10). MH/NH "Fiacaill Couloir" II, 400ft. (8½/10).
15:00 Arrived at the top of the routes. (3 pitches each)
15:10 Set off in semi darkness for the car park.
14/12/97 - WET
07:00 Sergeant major clarke signals "All rise".
07:10 Various conversations on weather, conditions, the food last night, the weather, the best options for the day, the weather, then the inevitable - It's raining, not very cold, it's dark, its the last day, so lets go cycling or home or an indoor wall ?? or even ICE CLIMBING ?
08:30 Left car park, took chair lift to top of Cairn Gorm's wasteland. Top in Scotland means 20 minutes walk away form the top.
08:50 Found WX station in "Ice age state", took team photo.
08:51 Began hike to the climbing area. 10:30 Started climbs :- RG/TC "Fiacaill Couloir" II, 400ft (5/10) MH/NH "Fiacaill Ridge" I, 200ft (6/10) (solo)
12:00 Finished climbs. The conditions had deteriorated, Ice and snow where on their last icicles. Time to head south for sun and warmth, no snow and no cold, I wonder if central gully at Stone Farm will be in condition this weekend .... must get those crampons sharpened!!
15:45 Left hut.
15/12/97 Dark
00:45 Arrived Home. ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Mark A Holmes Dec 97.