Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Day one: In mid-afternoon, we work our way into the wall. I say 'into' because the
opening couloir is a gateway to a hellish world, one of darkness, fear and continu-
ous threat. A mile above our heads, the wall leans out and throws down a continu-
ous bombardment of rocks and ice. The constant explosions on the blackened
snowfields to our left miss us by a hundred feet, suggesting perhaps this is just a
game, the mountain just trying to frighten us off. On this multi-lane highway from
hell, we are the only travellers on the road, tucked in beneath the right-hand
bounding wall for protection. We stop to watch several car-sized blocks excavate
huge craters in the snow then, almost comically, like an oversized acrobat, they
tumble end over end down the couloir and out onto the glacier a thousand feet be-
low.
We reach the narrows at the top of the entry couloir at dusk; the mountain is
sleeping now and we move quickly up safer snow slopes on the left. With
headtorches on, we climb until nine then bivouac on a broad ledge, the best bivvy
of the climb. With a meal of freeze-dried stew and endless cups of borscht and tea
in our bellies, we are satisfied with our day.
Day two: The rock is like crumbly old marble cake, without doubt the most danger-
ous climbing any of us has ever done. I force myself to be doubly careful and yet
some of the huge blocks we tell each other not to touch suddenly collapse into the
void. Every pitch of the ten we climb today is another bridge burned. Near the top
of one, an entire twenty-foot rib suddenly dissolves beneath Alex's feet and the
crumbs fan out across the wall beneath. Fortunately Voytek has him on a tight be-
lay and Alex gets back on what remains and continues. I lead the final two pitches
with ice gear, kicking in my front points and placing axes in a trifle of yellow and
red sponge even worse than the marble cake below.
Finally, we are below the central overhanging wall. We leave Alex to clear a
stance and move left to fix ropes on two further pitches while it is still light. In the
cold afternoon air, the face is silent again. Voytek climbs a ramp leading to the big
chimney we have studied from camp. It is one of several that split this pillared
overhanging wall, the one that appears most direct and safe. I lead the next pitch.
An initial tight slot widens until I reach the bed of what is best described as a ver-
tical canyon. At its back is a V-shaped chimney where the canyon meets the moun-
tain. It looks hard but climbable. We leave the two ropes hanging so we can start
quickly in the morning and rejoin Alex, encouraged that we can escape upwards.
We settle into our three-man bivvy bag and spend an uncomfortable night on the
gravel-covered sloping ledge. It is like lying on some impossibly steep beach with
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