Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
and I climbed for fun or played golf. But the Alps and the raw hills of Britain were
calling. I began to respond to letters from my professor encouraging me to return
to academia. I had saved up enough while working in the States and crossed the
pond once again. I was eight years Alex's senior. He was nineteen and I was
twenty-seven, but I now had a lot of alpine experience from time spent in the
Rockies and winter climbing in New England to add to my earlier seasons in the
Alps.
For the first year of my post-graduate work, I lived in Leeds, sharing a house
with some non-climbing mature students near Hyde Park. The majority of the
climbing fraternity was within easy walking distance and I soon fell in with them.
When we weren't out climbing or in the pub talking about climbing, we spent a lot
of time poring over guidebooks and reading magazines in one house or another.
In early March 1973, Alex had his first experience of ice climbing; it was almost a
disaster. A strong team from the LUCC travelled up to Craig Meagaidh in the cent-
ral Highlands, and took along two beginners - John Powell and Alex. For whatever
reason, these two were left to their own devices while the rest of us charged off to
do other routes. They decided to try
Centre Post
, a Grade III low down on the main
face. As it turned out, the route was too low down; it was a mild day and the ice
was soft and collapsing.
It was Alex's first time wearing crampons and plodding up the snow slope to-
wards the bottom of the climb, he managed to shred his brand new over-trousers.
He took them off and threw them down the face from the bottom of the first ice
pitch. With only one ice axe each, they failed to make any impression on the ice
above despite several attempts. The rest of us made a number of ascents of much
harder routes and this annoyed Alex further. The next day could have been much
worse. It snowed heavily overnight and was still snowing hard in the morning.
Most of the club headed home, but Alex persuaded John Eames and John Powell
to return to Craig Meagaidh. Despite the fact it was still snowing after the two-
hour walk-in, they started up
South Post
- at Grade V a much harder proposition.
John Powell traversed across
Centre Post
towards the bottom of their intended
route but had only just clipped into a peg when a massive avalanche roared down
the gully, nearly plucking him from his stance. When it stopped, the rope was run-
ning straight down the gully. With visibility at zero in the white-out around him,
John immediately assumed that Alex and John Eames had been swept away. But
his shouts were answered and he realised they were still attached to the crag on the
other side of the gully. The rope had been cut by falling ice. They beat a hasty re-
treat.
