so the alaska trip may be off. last weekend my mate Owen shattered his ankle and will be laid up for 6 weeks. bugger. i am currently looking for partners to climb with over there, so if you know anyone put me in touch! if i cant find people to climb with ill have to lose the ticket and think up a different trip. theres a few options so see what happens. get well soon owen!!
something good happened today too, i climbed my first 28(5.13-) marking the hardest piece of climbing, both physically and mentally. the routes called Animal Insticts, found near White Water Wall in Freycinet. its 18m high and is a powerfully technical masterpiece. after an easy start reachy, powerful side pulls and gastons without any good feet bring you to a strenuous layback finish. the easy bit is well protected, however as soon as the climbing gets hard, so does the gear!! a fiddly 000 c3 protects the crux, i took a few whippers onto this one!! above this is another blind 0 c3 and a #2 rp, again hard to place. somehow this morning i managed to redpoint it, placing gear on lead. almost falling off every move, the relief of topping out was nearly overwhelming!!
Friday, April 2, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Little Lion-Man Project
"Weep for yourself my man,
you'll never be what is in your heart.
weep little lion man,
you're not as brave as you were at the start."
Blood oozes from my hand as a catch a glimpse of the offending rock whirring downwards, inches from my lead line. Somehow I maintain contact with the rock. Looking down some 30 metres to the weak belay below, I look at the pathetic pieces sticking out of the cliff that nearly had to try and halt a fall. An inverted knife blade and a pecker off the belay. A good cam, good in the sense that all four lobes had contact with the wet rock. A ledge with a good piece in the back of it. A few body lengths above that is a number two RP, straining with the effort of just holding the quick draw. Still higher there’s me, fighting with the most primal instinct to stay on the overhanging wall.
Success in October on the East Face of Mt Anne had given me the confidence to try another route, this time with free-climbing in mind. The route, “This Boys in Love” was an aid route that didn’t quite take the tallest part of the cliff. With the weather somewhat warmer, and free-climbing possible, I intended to blast a new route straight up the guts. Ground-up, on-sight and solo.
The familiar walk was now much easier without the burden of frozen talus hopping. Making my way down the approach gully I felt more confident than the last time I had come by this way. Hesitantly I pulled the rope from the abseil and gingerly traversed the wet approach to the base.
With my large pack I soloed the first roped pitch of the Original Route and set up a belay. The next pitch headed of to the left. Slowly I traversed across to set up at the base of the line. On face holds, I set up off, trying to find something to protect the belay. Arriving at a stance I checked out the possiblities. My best bet ended up being my smallest knife-blade. I committed to some tricky moves into a corner system. A thin seam offered up a good pecker. Bomber for aid, but a whippers another story. My nut-tool scratched the flaring pods clean enough to be of use. I balance up, finally getting two mediocre C3’s. With a quick sigh I pull into some hard moves. The tips crack above me fused and I was stuck trying to find a solution. Out left on the arete I spot a large flat jug. Pouncing for it I snagged it, hung on and mantled onto it.
Some easy ground teased me up past a possible belay into an overhanging corner. Above it I could make out the shape of a large ledge above. I could see a rock scar and climbed up into it, figuring it would have solid rock. Wrong! With heaps of rubble about, I was treading on eggshells. With my hand on a flat ledge and my feet apart bridging, I looked up and froze. The rock above my left hand was rolling towards me. Know what was coming I let out a scream, somehow managing to stay on. I fought to reach up and place a cam to rest on. Once in my aiders, with a bloodied hand I plugged and chugged upwards to the belay.
With a short, easy looking corner between and the ledge I rushed to pull up. Nudging the side of the corner I realise the whole side is one big, rocking loose flake. Threatening to crush me, and my helmet less head after forgetting my stack-hat.
Once safely on the ledge I faced the tough call to bail. Without a helmet, my confidence wasn’t soaring, why didnt i remember that one piece of kit. So trying not to get blood on the rope I rapped of on my single 60m rope. I rapped of some tat slung on good horns. Yeah yeah, I know, leaving tat behind is bad juju, but apparently maybe there’s a dedicated, tat-cutting abseiler kicking about the state at the moment.
But I digress….
Now standing at the bottom of the face, not wanting to climb the cliff, I was equally dubious of the 50m steep wet bank I now had to climb. Committing to bushes a didn’t trust, I made my way up, then made the mistake of looking down. Nearly slipping once I finally topped out onto flatter ground, and safety.
With my tail tucked I ran away home, a scared little boy…
I think this was one of the most impacting mis-adventures ive had in a long time. It messed with my head for the rest of the year. Being so close to having a serious accident in the middle of no-where hit home how easy it is to die on your own out there. Lately ive been immensely enjoying the beauty of partnership on the rock. Im not saying Im never gonna go out solo again, but I think a break from all that mental stress will be for the best.
I have nicknamed that line the “Little Lion Man Project”. I’ll definitely be back, this time 'with a little help from my friends…'.
you'll never be what is in your heart.
weep little lion man,
you're not as brave as you were at the start."
Blood oozes from my hand as a catch a glimpse of the offending rock whirring downwards, inches from my lead line. Somehow I maintain contact with the rock. Looking down some 30 metres to the weak belay below, I look at the pathetic pieces sticking out of the cliff that nearly had to try and halt a fall. An inverted knife blade and a pecker off the belay. A good cam, good in the sense that all four lobes had contact with the wet rock. A ledge with a good piece in the back of it. A few body lengths above that is a number two RP, straining with the effort of just holding the quick draw. Still higher there’s me, fighting with the most primal instinct to stay on the overhanging wall.
Success in October on the East Face of Mt Anne had given me the confidence to try another route, this time with free-climbing in mind. The route, “This Boys in Love” was an aid route that didn’t quite take the tallest part of the cliff. With the weather somewhat warmer, and free-climbing possible, I intended to blast a new route straight up the guts. Ground-up, on-sight and solo.
The familiar walk was now much easier without the burden of frozen talus hopping. Making my way down the approach gully I felt more confident than the last time I had come by this way. Hesitantly I pulled the rope from the abseil and gingerly traversed the wet approach to the base.
With my large pack I soloed the first roped pitch of the Original Route and set up a belay. The next pitch headed of to the left. Slowly I traversed across to set up at the base of the line. On face holds, I set up off, trying to find something to protect the belay. Arriving at a stance I checked out the possiblities. My best bet ended up being my smallest knife-blade. I committed to some tricky moves into a corner system. A thin seam offered up a good pecker. Bomber for aid, but a whippers another story. My nut-tool scratched the flaring pods clean enough to be of use. I balance up, finally getting two mediocre C3’s. With a quick sigh I pull into some hard moves. The tips crack above me fused and I was stuck trying to find a solution. Out left on the arete I spot a large flat jug. Pouncing for it I snagged it, hung on and mantled onto it.
Some easy ground teased me up past a possible belay into an overhanging corner. Above it I could make out the shape of a large ledge above. I could see a rock scar and climbed up into it, figuring it would have solid rock. Wrong! With heaps of rubble about, I was treading on eggshells. With my hand on a flat ledge and my feet apart bridging, I looked up and froze. The rock above my left hand was rolling towards me. Know what was coming I let out a scream, somehow managing to stay on. I fought to reach up and place a cam to rest on. Once in my aiders, with a bloodied hand I plugged and chugged upwards to the belay.
With a short, easy looking corner between and the ledge I rushed to pull up. Nudging the side of the corner I realise the whole side is one big, rocking loose flake. Threatening to crush me, and my helmet less head after forgetting my stack-hat.
Once safely on the ledge I faced the tough call to bail. Without a helmet, my confidence wasn’t soaring, why didnt i remember that one piece of kit. So trying not to get blood on the rope I rapped of on my single 60m rope. I rapped of some tat slung on good horns. Yeah yeah, I know, leaving tat behind is bad juju, but apparently maybe there’s a dedicated, tat-cutting abseiler kicking about the state at the moment.
But I digress….
Now standing at the bottom of the face, not wanting to climb the cliff, I was equally dubious of the 50m steep wet bank I now had to climb. Committing to bushes a didn’t trust, I made my way up, then made the mistake of looking down. Nearly slipping once I finally topped out onto flatter ground, and safety.
With my tail tucked I ran away home, a scared little boy…
I think this was one of the most impacting mis-adventures ive had in a long time. It messed with my head for the rest of the year. Being so close to having a serious accident in the middle of no-where hit home how easy it is to die on your own out there. Lately ive been immensely enjoying the beauty of partnership on the rock. Im not saying Im never gonna go out solo again, but I think a break from all that mental stress will be for the best.
I have nicknamed that line the “Little Lion Man Project”. I’ll definitely be back, this time 'with a little help from my friends…'.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Awake my Soul
The weather forecast across the state was a pretty grim prospect. Deciding to stay locally and climb out of Hobart for the weekend gave Garry and myself the chance to head down to Mt Brown with the drills to finish bolting a route he had already started equipping. So Sunday morning saw us heading out once again down the familiar path out the sea-cliffs of Mt Brown. A heavy pack full of everything we needed got the heart rate up in a hurry.
Soon we were rapping down the top pitch, with the bolts drilled we just had to head lower. A bit of a traverse gave me a few hairy moments before I got above the line. It looked amazing. Hard, slopey, bouldery moves would be the go! Psyched out of our mind I kept on looking down further, hoping to link the route to the base of the Paradiso. I eventually made my way out to where the easiest path across would be. It will be hard!!! Not really keen to have a grade 28 project out here we decided to just do the top pitches. With a million striking lines left to do in Tassie, I didn’t want to try and forge a line for the sake of it.
Working like a well oiled machine we equipped the rest of the route quickly. Garry went up drilling the holes for the bolts, then I came up behind, gluing the U-bolts in as I went. Having arranged dinner with my parents we called it a day early and headed home. Happy to have another climb ready and waiting for us.
The next week saw me dreaming constantly of that first pitch, and how it would climb. I climbed my heart out at the local crags trying to get fit and strong. Managing to feel both it was great to climb my hardest route in quite a while, the last route I had to climb at Frruehof. We made plans to head down on Sunday, I couldn’t wait. Our friend Alex decided he’d be keen to come check it out, and take some photos for us. Sunday rolled around and we were soon sucking down espresso’s in the kitchen of Fitzroy. Pumped up on caffeine and soon talking shit, we raced down the peninsula. The weather wasn’t amazing and there was a 5m swell forecast, but we were going anyway. Pulling up at the car park was impressive, we’d never seen a swell that big! With waves crashing all over the ledge of the Paradiso, the only climbing option were the bigger routes. Watching sprays kick up to 50m of the point, we rapped in.
As soon as we were on the wall it was on. Grinning like chesire cats, we climbed the top pitch as a warm up. Alex telling us that were mad as he swung around on a 10mm cord 100m above the booming see. Rapping down further to the first pitch things got even more exposed and out there. Perched on a block 40m off the sea, staring up a hard exposed pitch, both just wanted to climb!
Garry went first. With a few rests he figured out the sequence for the bouldery start and lowered back down to the belay. After five minutes he pulled on and crushed it. Wanting to lead it myself I lowered him back down to the belay and pulled on to check it out. Again after a quick sort out of the moves I was stepping of the belay on a redpoint attempt. Crushing the opening boulder, I would just have to fight the pump. I pulled into the rest, only just! Looking up at the next 15m of climbing was amazing. A rising traverse past a flake led up and up to the belay. I was so stoked to climb it second shot. We jugged out happy little campers!
An awesome route in an amazing position. A great introduction to the style of rap-in climb out sea-cliffs that will put Mt Brown on the map.
Route Desription:
**Awake My Soul, 25, 60m
Access:
Head out as if going to the paradiso, but instead of dropping down to the Paradiso continue for 10 mins more up along the top of the cliff. A faint track marks the way. Bolts are located on slabs facing Cape Raoul(cairned). Just as the cliff reaches the highest point. All belays fully bolted.
One 60m rope is enough to rap both pitches. Ample bolts provide an easy escape if need be.
Route Description:
1) 30m, 25. Tricky sequence off the belay leads up the face on slopy holds(crux). After no-hands rest head R and up to DBB (fully bolted).
2)30m, 19. Bolts lead up the face till the crack accepts gear. Continue to top.
Rack:
14 quick draws (a couple should be alpine draws)
Singles of .5, .75, 1 camalot
Doubles of 2 & 3 camalot
FA: Garry Phillips & Simon Young with thanks to Alex Lewis (15/11/2009)
Monday, November 16, 2009
This Boys in Love
Here is the trip report of a new route I climbed a wee while ago, but have only just got around to writing it up! Enjoy…
So I’d had a fun time in the last few weeks away on my trip. Learning how to ski and hanging out with my parents was all good fun but I still had the burning desire to head out into the wilderness and suffer. Earlier I the year my good friend Garry and I had climbed a new route up the intimidating east face of Mt Anne in Tassie south-west. We had both commented how it would be amazing to come back and solo a new route up the face.
The forecast for the weekend was good so I readied the battle gear midweek and left after work on the Friday night. Arriving at the trailhead well after dark I set off for the 2 hour slog up to the hut. Recent rain meant the first 200m soaked my pants, lucky I had my synthetic bag. With the tunes cranking I trudged ever upwards with a pack full of rope and climbing gear. I had gone pretty slim with food and fuel, leaving little breathing room if something went wrong. I arrived at the hut shortly before midnight and flaked the rope to make a sleeping mat.
Shortly after falling asleep a strange scratching sound woke me. It must be the resident hut mouse. I tried to scare him and he finally settled down. That is until I heard him a foot from my head.
‘don’t you dare!’, I thought to myself.
Next thing I know he’s jumped into the small opening in my bag and going for my face!! After a quick struggle he jumps back out and hightails it to his hole in the corner. I think we were both shaken! Luckily he didn’t bother me further and I was soon catching Z’s till my alarm sounded at dawn.
I struggled to stomach some porridge and tea before setting off to make my way across the plateau. The track was covered in ice. With every footstep I climbed, the self doubt grew stronger. The talus(scree) was covered in snow and made going slow and treacherous. It would be too easy to break a leg out here on my own. Everything I saw through the eyes of a coward. Everything was an excuse to go back to safety. Lack of food, the cold, how dangerous this all was. But somehow I kept that little voice quiet and battled on.
Halfway across to the wall I broke the ice of a lake to drink, having run out of water. I filled the bottles here, unsure as to where I’d find water next. Soon I came to the descent gully to the foot of the face. I barely recognised it from summer, being filled deep with snow. Not having crampons or an axe I gingerly made my down. With only 10 metres left till the 30m abseil I slipped. I had enough time to think, ‘this is it, im gone.’. sliding down only a few metres to go, my leg caught in a bergshrund and stopped me going the distance. I sat in the snow for 10 minutes to compose myself before abseiling down, pulling my ropes, and committing to the looming face above.
I stopped to brew up and guzzled as much food and water as I could spare. I knew the hard time I had ahead of me! The hardest part was deciding on which line to take. With only one route on the face a had a lot to choose from! I spied an obvious corner system and set off toward that. The first fifty metres were short steps of vertical rock, all capped with wet slippery mantels to gain the next crack. I finally made the base of the corner to learn it was fused for the first 5 metres or so. An awesome free route, but not so good for solo-aiding! I traversed left to the base of a thin seam that appeared to crack to a crack up high. I only had one 60m rope, so that meant jugging and cleaning every pitch with my rucksack on my back.
With the belay organised I started up the next pitch. Hooking for a few moves off the belay I tentatively climbed higher on some good peckers. Finally I made it too the wider crack and some good gear. I say wider crack, but it never grew above half camalot size. 40m out from the belay I was back on dodgy A2 gear without a whole lot left on the rack. A small roof blocked my view of where the crack went and the gear was running out. Starting to get pretty scared that id be left out hanging in the middle of no-mans land without retreat options, I had no other choice but to keep climbing and hope for the best. Luckily as I hooked over the roof, a thin crack led me upwards. Finally arriving to a detached column I slung the top of it to clean the pitch.
After jugging back up to the pillar I faced a rather big problem. All around the pillar was fused, not allowing any gear to make an upwards pull anchor to belay myself with. I felt fairly confident that the number 4 behind the pillar would push the pillar off the cliff if I fell. After 15 minutes of trying to get anything from upside-down hooks to peckers an idea came. I slung the rope around the middle of the pillar so it cinched down tight. The whole column would be my belay. I prayed I wouldn’t detach it completely. Straight off the belay I had to made awkward moves of average pecker after pecker. Soon I was looking down past a rattly cam into the deep abyss of the face. I came to a ledge that felt wet and slippery. Another adrenaline fuelled mantel saw me standing precariously on grass and dirt. I reached high and plugged in a good piece. Relief washed over me. I was some plugging and chugging my way up the final A1 cracks to the summit of the first wall. I found a good belay to clean the final 40m pitch and faced a tough decision.
The true summit lay beyond a labyrinth of ledges and steps. Time consuming ground when your on your own. I sat down to take stock. I had enough food to see me through the day, but no more. And my fuel would run out at breakfast. Feeling my sleeping bag, it was still soaked from sleeping in it with wet clothes the previous night. All these factors made it an easy decision to traverse off and make tracks home. Slogging my way up the steep snow back to the tracking was back breaking work. After gaining the flat track I was able to move fast, glad to be back in the horizontal. It grew dark as I was reaching the hut. Realising I wasn’t too far from the trailhead I continued. Arriving at the car, beaten, tired, but with the biggest shit-eating grin of my life. With a new 140m aid route completed I was one happy camper. I finally made it home 18 hours after waking that morning in the hut and collapsed into bed, my mind full of thoughts of the conquered dream.
"This Boys in Love, 140m, 16 A3"
1. 50m, 14 A1. Up steep broken ground heading towards the base of the large Left facing corner on the left of the face. At base of corner head left 5m to belay beneath thin crack in middle of face.
2. 50m, A2+. Hook up off the ledge to gain the thin crack. Much small gear leads you up and up before belaying on top of large detached pillar.
3. 40m, A3. Spicy peckers off the belay lead to mantel into base of A1 crack to the summit. belay up and right in obvious crack.
FA Simon Young(solo) 3/10/2009
From here traverse off left along back to main walking track, hairy in places! is possible to continue rambling up to the top buttress, time, cold and lack of bivy gear led me out back to civilisation.
Suggested Rack:
doubles of cams from teeny micros to #2 camalot
singles #3 & #4
double set of wires
all sizes hooks(cam hooks useful)
selection of pins, mostly blades/peckers
testicles, preferably large(had none on FA, but would have been useful)
So I’d had a fun time in the last few weeks away on my trip. Learning how to ski and hanging out with my parents was all good fun but I still had the burning desire to head out into the wilderness and suffer. Earlier I the year my good friend Garry and I had climbed a new route up the intimidating east face of Mt Anne in Tassie south-west. We had both commented how it would be amazing to come back and solo a new route up the face.
The forecast for the weekend was good so I readied the battle gear midweek and left after work on the Friday night. Arriving at the trailhead well after dark I set off for the 2 hour slog up to the hut. Recent rain meant the first 200m soaked my pants, lucky I had my synthetic bag. With the tunes cranking I trudged ever upwards with a pack full of rope and climbing gear. I had gone pretty slim with food and fuel, leaving little breathing room if something went wrong. I arrived at the hut shortly before midnight and flaked the rope to make a sleeping mat.
Shortly after falling asleep a strange scratching sound woke me. It must be the resident hut mouse. I tried to scare him and he finally settled down. That is until I heard him a foot from my head.
‘don’t you dare!’, I thought to myself.
Next thing I know he’s jumped into the small opening in my bag and going for my face!! After a quick struggle he jumps back out and hightails it to his hole in the corner. I think we were both shaken! Luckily he didn’t bother me further and I was soon catching Z’s till my alarm sounded at dawn.
I struggled to stomach some porridge and tea before setting off to make my way across the plateau. The track was covered in ice. With every footstep I climbed, the self doubt grew stronger. The talus(scree) was covered in snow and made going slow and treacherous. It would be too easy to break a leg out here on my own. Everything I saw through the eyes of a coward. Everything was an excuse to go back to safety. Lack of food, the cold, how dangerous this all was. But somehow I kept that little voice quiet and battled on.
Halfway across to the wall I broke the ice of a lake to drink, having run out of water. I filled the bottles here, unsure as to where I’d find water next. Soon I came to the descent gully to the foot of the face. I barely recognised it from summer, being filled deep with snow. Not having crampons or an axe I gingerly made my down. With only 10 metres left till the 30m abseil I slipped. I had enough time to think, ‘this is it, im gone.’. sliding down only a few metres to go, my leg caught in a bergshrund and stopped me going the distance. I sat in the snow for 10 minutes to compose myself before abseiling down, pulling my ropes, and committing to the looming face above.
I stopped to brew up and guzzled as much food and water as I could spare. I knew the hard time I had ahead of me! The hardest part was deciding on which line to take. With only one route on the face a had a lot to choose from! I spied an obvious corner system and set off toward that. The first fifty metres were short steps of vertical rock, all capped with wet slippery mantels to gain the next crack. I finally made the base of the corner to learn it was fused for the first 5 metres or so. An awesome free route, but not so good for solo-aiding! I traversed left to the base of a thin seam that appeared to crack to a crack up high. I only had one 60m rope, so that meant jugging and cleaning every pitch with my rucksack on my back.
With the belay organised I started up the next pitch. Hooking for a few moves off the belay I tentatively climbed higher on some good peckers. Finally I made it too the wider crack and some good gear. I say wider crack, but it never grew above half camalot size. 40m out from the belay I was back on dodgy A2 gear without a whole lot left on the rack. A small roof blocked my view of where the crack went and the gear was running out. Starting to get pretty scared that id be left out hanging in the middle of no-mans land without retreat options, I had no other choice but to keep climbing and hope for the best. Luckily as I hooked over the roof, a thin crack led me upwards. Finally arriving to a detached column I slung the top of it to clean the pitch.After jugging back up to the pillar I faced a rather big problem. All around the pillar was fused, not allowing any gear to make an upwards pull anchor to belay myself with. I felt fairly confident that the number 4 behind the pillar would push the pillar off the cliff if I fell. After 15 minutes of trying to get anything from upside-down hooks to peckers an idea came. I slung the rope around the middle of the pillar so it cinched down tight. The whole column would be my belay. I prayed I wouldn’t detach it completely. Straight off the belay I had to made awkward moves of average pecker after pecker. Soon I was looking down past a rattly cam into the deep abyss of the face. I came to a ledge that felt wet and slippery. Another adrenaline fuelled mantel saw me standing precariously on grass and dirt. I reached high and plugged in a good piece. Relief washed over me. I was some plugging and chugging my way up the final A1 cracks to the summit of the first wall. I found a good belay to clean the final 40m pitch and faced a tough decision.
The true summit lay beyond a labyrinth of ledges and steps. Time consuming ground when your on your own. I sat down to take stock. I had enough food to see me through the day, but no more. And my fuel would run out at breakfast. Feeling my sleeping bag, it was still soaked from sleeping in it with wet clothes the previous night. All these factors made it an easy decision to traverse off and make tracks home. Slogging my way up the steep snow back to the tracking was back breaking work. After gaining the flat track I was able to move fast, glad to be back in the horizontal. It grew dark as I was reaching the hut. Realising I wasn’t too far from the trailhead I continued. Arriving at the car, beaten, tired, but with the biggest shit-eating grin of my life. With a new 140m aid route completed I was one happy camper. I finally made it home 18 hours after waking that morning in the hut and collapsed into bed, my mind full of thoughts of the conquered dream.
"This Boys in Love, 140m, 16 A3"
1. 50m, 14 A1. Up steep broken ground heading towards the base of the large Left facing corner on the left of the face. At base of corner head left 5m to belay beneath thin crack in middle of face.
2. 50m, A2+. Hook up off the ledge to gain the thin crack. Much small gear leads you up and up before belaying on top of large detached pillar.
3. 40m, A3. Spicy peckers off the belay lead to mantel into base of A1 crack to the summit. belay up and right in obvious crack.
FA Simon Young(solo) 3/10/2009
From here traverse off left along back to main walking track, hairy in places! is possible to continue rambling up to the top buttress, time, cold and lack of bivy gear led me out back to civilisation.
Suggested Rack:
doubles of cams from teeny micros to #2 camalot
singles #3 & #4
double set of wires
all sizes hooks(cam hooks useful)
selection of pins, mostly blades/peckers
testicles, preferably large(had none on FA, but would have been useful)
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Hatun Machay
the weather everywhere was crap. everyone seemed to be gravitating back towards Huaraz, out of the hills. we had heard whispers from friends about an amazing sport-climbing area called Hatun Machay. apparently Peru´s premier rock-climbing area. we went to investigate at the local office that organises transport to and from the refuge that serves the area. we were amazed at how easy everything was, with a bus leaving every day.we packed all our gear ready for a few days in the sun. it would be nice to clip bolts and relax! we made our way down to the office and at 8am the bus left for the 1.5 hour drive. the bus had many people from all nationalities. everyone was in good spirits and ready for some laughs.
we arrived at the Refugio and were greeted by views of the amazing rock formations that make up Hatun Machay. there are currently about 120 routes established, but the potential is endless. with 10 lives you wouldnt get halfway through it. we eagerly walked the 15 minutes to the crag and set about climbing as many classics as we could! out of shape from the mountains it was a struggle but we managed to climb routes up to 6c+(23). we climbed in the warm sun all day before making our way up to the hut for some dinner.
the hut is recently built and a great theing to have. for only 20 soles per night you´re provided with a kitchen, utensils and a comfy bed! we sunk some of the beers we had brought, and settled into laughing in front of the fire. there were some great people up there, i only wish my spanish was better!
in the morning we were woken by the many cute dogs roaming around. after a hearty breakfast we made our way once more down to the crag! towards lunchtime we were joined by our friends, the pro skiers. these three girls(and guy) were here carrying skies up the big hills to ski down. all this to raise money for a local charity. it was pretty impressive what they had been up to! maybe when im in europe i can get a free lesson!! the rest of the day was spent laughing, climbing and having a ball! Rob and i decided to head back to Huaraz with the skiers to enjoy some amazing local food cooked by Zarela.i was sad to leave such an amazing area. i looked at changing my ticket to stay and head back to Hatun Machay. theres a drill and bolts available for putting up new routes and i was keen as mustard! unfortunatly though, it would cost more money than i could justify. maybe next year!
if your in Peru or even south america i'd recommend a visit to Hatun Machay. Andres, the owner, has done a fantastic job of creating a climbers paradise. give it a few years and it will become a global destination! get in quick! you can check out all the information at www.andeankingdom.com!
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Dreaming Big...
the suggestion of Taulliraju had gotten both Rob and I excited. this would be what we were after, a long, hard and sustained outing that would push us to the limit both mentally and physically. we were thinking of trying the Italian Butress(VI, WI6, M6) but had also heard rumors that the un-climbed direct might be in condition. the plan was to take food and supplies in, and have a sniff about to see what was in.
after stocking up on coffee, food and plenty of snacks we made our way once more to the trailhead of the Santa Cruz valley. this time however we were early enough to do the approach in a day. our young arriero was very helpful and by late afternoon we were pitching basecamp and staring up at the imposing south-west face of Taulliraju. i was awestruck, it was the most beautiful thing i had ever seen in the flesh. we picked up our small binoculars and starting trying to see what was happening up on the face. a passing trekker lent us his much better pair and we could get right up close, and soon see how things looked.
the direct looked good. at least through the binoculars! if what looked like ice didnt prove to be the infamous powder on rock the Andes often serves up, there would only be a short rock section to join the two ice smears. being fit, acclimatised and psyched out of our heads, we would go try and get the first ascent of this incredible line. we would never forgive ourselves if we didnt at least try!
after a rest day prepaing food and a meagre rack we settled into to reading books before heading up to bivy on the glacier the next day. at 5am however disaster struck. the pitter-patter of rain drops slowly started increasing on my tent, and soon it was pouring steadily. poking my head out of the entrance it looked grim. barely able to se the moraine, this weather wasn´t just a passing shower. all day it poured down rain while up high it snowed. through the day we passed time reading in our tents getting more and more frustrated. we just wanted to go have an adventure, failure or success, it didnt matter as long as we could push the boat out and see what happened.
i finished my book shortly before Rob finished his. we swapped and kept this up till dinner time. hopefully this would clear during the night and we could depart a day late. all through the night it kept up and we woke to the same routine. more tea and reading passed the day. the weather showed no sign of improving and we were running out of time. with a plane to catch we made the decision to bail. up high would have too much snow and need to settle for a day or so and we just didnt have the time. an Arriero passed us with un-burdened donkeys and we soon arranged to be out that day.
all afternoon we walked and walked till we were out. tired at the end we were both disappointed we didnt even make it passed basecamp. when the locals continously tried to rip us off it was the last straw. nearly exploding with rage we caught a taxi and got out of there. soon we were back at Zarela's having showers and going out for beers to drown our sorrows. oh well, maybe next year. id much rather dream big and fail than never experience the restless nights before you push it to the limit, and discover what your truly capable of!
after stocking up on coffee, food and plenty of snacks we made our way once more to the trailhead of the Santa Cruz valley. this time however we were early enough to do the approach in a day. our young arriero was very helpful and by late afternoon we were pitching basecamp and staring up at the imposing south-west face of Taulliraju. i was awestruck, it was the most beautiful thing i had ever seen in the flesh. we picked up our small binoculars and starting trying to see what was happening up on the face. a passing trekker lent us his much better pair and we could get right up close, and soon see how things looked.
the direct looked good. at least through the binoculars! if what looked like ice didnt prove to be the infamous powder on rock the Andes often serves up, there would only be a short rock section to join the two ice smears. being fit, acclimatised and psyched out of our heads, we would go try and get the first ascent of this incredible line. we would never forgive ourselves if we didnt at least try!
after a rest day prepaing food and a meagre rack we settled into to reading books before heading up to bivy on the glacier the next day. at 5am however disaster struck. the pitter-patter of rain drops slowly started increasing on my tent, and soon it was pouring steadily. poking my head out of the entrance it looked grim. barely able to se the moraine, this weather wasn´t just a passing shower. all day it poured down rain while up high it snowed. through the day we passed time reading in our tents getting more and more frustrated. we just wanted to go have an adventure, failure or success, it didnt matter as long as we could push the boat out and see what happened.
i finished my book shortly before Rob finished his. we swapped and kept this up till dinner time. hopefully this would clear during the night and we could depart a day late. all through the night it kept up and we woke to the same routine. more tea and reading passed the day. the weather showed no sign of improving and we were running out of time. with a plane to catch we made the decision to bail. up high would have too much snow and need to settle for a day or so and we just didnt have the time. an Arriero passed us with un-burdened donkeys and we soon arranged to be out that day.all afternoon we walked and walked till we were out. tired at the end we were both disappointed we didnt even make it passed basecamp. when the locals continously tried to rip us off it was the last straw. nearly exploding with rage we caught a taxi and got out of there. soon we were back at Zarela's having showers and going out for beers to drown our sorrows. oh well, maybe next year. id much rather dream big and fail than never experience the restless nights before you push it to the limit, and discover what your truly capable of!
Up & Down & Back Again
so Rob was feeling pretty average the whole way out of the Ischinca valley. unable to keep food down he was soon gripped by fever on the taxi ride home. after 24 hours back in Huaraz he was feeling much better. a course of antibiotics had done him well. feeling well enough to consider eating some food we went to a local restaurant with a good reccomendation. we tucked away a hearty meal felt fat and contented. it was here we met Nate and Marcus, two americans that had been about for a while. Marcus was heading home the next day and Nate had 48 hours until his Dad and a mate were showing up in Huaraz. he put the question forward;
'Are you interested in heading up to climb Churup?'
Churup is a close by mountain that features some more technical climbing at a lower altitude. i was a biut hesitant at first, i didnt want to leave Rob on his own so i said i'd think about it. the next day Nate was still keen as mustard, and Rob wanted a little bit more time to start feeling better. it was on! i quickly packed up what we´d need and we were soon waiting out the front of the hostel for our taxi. a short drive later we were at the trailhead. we started walking, the track being familiar as we had hiked it for acclimatisation. this time, however, the packs were much heavier! we were both feeling fit and moved fast up to the first lake. getting many strange looks for all the other tourists. by now im used to that, 'you must be crazy' expression people have written all over their faces upon seeing big packs!
a few hours after starting we found our campsite. a beautifully secluded beach next to an amazing lake. above us loomed the mountain in all its glory, flanked by seracs and glaciers. we settled in to resting, hydrating and getting ready for a midnight start. we had to be down in town by about 1830 the next day, the taxi would be waiting for us at 1700 at the base of the trail. we would have to work hard and move fast!
the alarms rung and we snapped into gear, getting tea and breakfast on. like a well oiled machine we were soon heading out across the scree(talus) on route to the glacier. we steadily made our way onwards and upwards in the dark. feeling our way up the glacier. soon we arrived at the base of the route and we put the rope on for the first time. a steep traverse led us to the base of the rockband that provided the meat of the hard climbing. Nate took the first pitch. some amazing mixed climbing, without much gear for saftey saw us 70m higher. the climbing was easy enough to savour, and not worry about having to change undies later on! Nate passed me the rack of gear and i made my way up and left, finding the traverse line that led to easier ground. some enthralling climbing led me out and out. with much hooking and torquing of my tools i was soon back onto snow. that had been some of the best mixed climbing i had done. Nate swung through the belay and led through a final band of rock and onto the headwall snowslopes above. we were moving fast and climbing well together, everything going well! the sun met us during the second pitch of snow. we continued to pitch it up the 65-70 degree neve and soon Nate cried down that he could see the summit ridge. i could scarcely believe him, it felt like we had much longer to go! he was right though, and soon we were taking in the panoramic views of the entire mountain range. a break for some water and food that i had neglected to eat on the route was warmly welcomed.
we made our way down the ridgeline to the first of the abseils. these were all fixed down a buttress of terrible rock. each abseil saw small rocks whizzing by us, threating to hit us, or worse, cut the rope. we kept at it and made it safe and sound back down to the glacier. here we packed the rope away and started down to our camp. we were soon down. its amazing how an approach seems so much longer in the dark! we checked the clock at camp, we had made it in 12 hours round trip! with plenty of time to spare we packed up and made our way down the hill.
arriving back at the trailhead much earlier than expected we were glad to find a waiting collectivo. we made our way down and cancelled the arranged taxi. i made my way to Cafe Andino´s for a beer and some food to celebrate. all the guys were there already so it was great! Rob was feeling better so we started thinking what was next.
with out too many ideas Nate piped in a great suggestion, why not try the fearsome Taulliraju. we were sold instantly. No one had tried this amzing mountain yet this season. it stands proud at the head of the Santa Cruz valley. Giving the impression of an impregnable castle, where all the bad guys live in the clouds. we were keen to go face those bad guys head on....
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