Space to Breathe

I was at 600 metres at points wading through thigh Deep powder snow with Rex, who most the time seemed to barely scratch the surface. It was exhausting. The only food I had on me was today's lunch; a titan bar (Aldi's half size Mars Bar), which I'd just eaten, tonight's tea; pasta, with no sauce, a packet of semolina and tomorrow's lunch; Kendal Mint Cake, which unfortunately I had also just eaten! There was also Rex's dog food, but then what would he eat? Once again I was heading up to Cross Fell England's highest Mountain Bothy at 700metres. I was hungry and there was nothing I could do about it. But deep down this was what I wanted to happen.

In the last hour I had made about 400 metres progress with even less ascent. And I had been looking for the slope in front of me wondering if I'd ever get to the bottom of it let alone up it. I hadn't been on an overnight trip for over a year. I had wondered all the way through last year, whether fell walking wouldn't be constructive anymore. When you head up into the hills it seemed to take up a lot of time.I started to view it as something I had the skills and experience to so when I wanted to do it. I was never going to get out of practice at it, like I would if I had a long time off climbing or running.
        I used to feel a sense of accomplishment from it. But I started to think that would no longer be possible when I now knew there were people around like Joss Naylor who run 70 peaks in under 24 hours to celebrate there birthday, or Kilian Jornet who can head up kilimanjaro after breakfast and still be down for lunch (admittedly quite a late lunch, unless he had an early breakfast of course). My greatest hill walking achievement had been climbing the 12 highest wainwrights in 3 1/2 days! That wasn't going to impress anyone and it certainly wasn't going to impress myself. It was only with a little more age and wisdom that I began to look back at the real reason why I went up into the hills in the first place....It was for that sense of freedom. Strapping on a rucksack, walking up into the hills and leaving my troubles on the ground. Waking up to that amazing silence, the air so fresh, the views of skiddaw making its way through that morning haze, watching watching the sunset up on gable. They were never expeditions. They were holidays. And I realised deep down it was something I was resisting doing. Like a recovering alcoholic resists his drink or dieter resists chocolate. But it wasn't something bad for me. I would come back fresh and happy, at piece with myself. Backpacking in the hills isn't just something I want to do, its something I need to do and something when I don't do I long to do.

 It was nice to feel this way again. It was a relief. All I needed to think about was getting to the hut and all I had to worry about was not making it. I wasn't sat on the couch hoping that England won the match against Brazil, or logging onto Facebook hoping that there would be a message in my inbox only to cure me from my temporary boredom. Instead I was hoping the large plateau that is the summit of Cross Fell would be cloud free and that I wouldn't be in a white out on the other side of the fell, unable to find the already hard to find hut. And hoping that when I did get to the hut one of the previous over laden guests would have left food behind (though in reality there was as little chance of that as England beating Brazil or me receiving a message on my facebook account). Things were simple. Things were in perspective again!

On the summit Plateau, with a snow covered cairn

We were now on the summit Plateau of Cross Fell, the fog was down, and it was perfect! We worked our way over to the Trig Point. Finally there was no more ascent. Just as well, I didn't no how much more ascent I could have taken, even at a 20 degree angle I was only managing 100 metres or so of travelling before I had to sit down and rest. The snow on the other side of the hill was deep. It had built up between the large boulders that scattered the northern slope of the mountain. I kept going through it, at points down to the waist at points even further. It was only when I saw a gap between the snow and the boulder that I realised just how deep it was. It went down seven or eight feet, and I was tip toeing across it's surface. I had one of those casual thoughts, where I wondered how my Dad would react in this situation. There are so many things in modern day life, that I struggle to take with my fragile mind, yet my Dad can seem so strong. Though when it comes to this kind of situation it would be very much vice versa. I was more in my comfort zone here then I would be walking through Penrith. It was similar throughout the rest of the day until I got to the hut. First struggling to find the hut in the snow and fog, then getting to the hut just as it was going dark to find the door wouldn't open. At first I thought it was iced up and then started to wonder if I was locked out. This was what I meant about things being put into perspective. Down in the hustle and bustle of a modern life I would have been far more stressed out if I had blocked the toilet or dropped a potato on the floor. Those few minutes where was locked out was simply just a trivial concern, I knew a solution would come. It was something I've learnt time and time again in the mountains. Panic only brings loneliness and makes you feel small and insecure in such a big place. One of the things I love about being up here is that time seems to be so slow. So slow that a solution often springs to mind, far before the problem worsens. Here I was waiting around for that solution to spring to mind when I noticed the bolt was closed at the bottom of the door. I opened it and wondered in.

It was great to be back. Even more so this time with -10 degree temperatures about to build up outside. Everything was cold. I went in to the back room to light the fire. I searched around in hope that someone had left some food. A tin of bacon! It was like winning £100 pounds on a scratch card. Settling down for the night by the fire was pleasant. In my down jacket and sleeping bag I was nice and warm. Rex might not have been. So I put one over the top of him that had been left there for unprepared guests. We both lay on the floor by the fire. Most the heat it did produced was drowned by the unrelenting cold around it. Anything around that could freeze did. A 5 litre bottle of water left there was now hard as stone. So was any water supply, so I had to melt snow, which might seem like fun but, pot full of snow produces about 1/5 of a pot of water, requiring numerous trips outside through out the evening to fill it up. I lay there with a book in my hand and a torch next to me. Something riggled right in front of my face. It was a mouse. I'd never seen one this close before. It was a lucky mouse to have found this hut in the middle of no where in conditions like these. It was probably pleased I'd lit the stove. Rex lay there fast asleep I soon followed him, waking occasionally to feed the fire. I woke up in the morning to find Rex out from under his duvet shivering. I wrapped him back up again and re lit the stove, he soon stopped. I think he finally realised that if he stood up he the duvet would fall off him and he would have to stand there in the cold until I happened to wake up from my light sleep every so often to put it round him again. We then slept for a little while longer before waking up, for breakfast. I couldn't believe how good that bacon tasted. After packing everything up and giving the floor a quick sleep it was time to leave. I set a bearing on the compass and left setting off down the hill as quickly as we could before the wind picked up later in the afternoon.

It had worked I had a clear head again. I had spent a night with no troubles or fears. I just had to keep myself warm and keep my dog warm. Despite having nothing to do, boredom could never occur. And most importantly neither could any troubles. 

What I've been up to recently

Have spent the last Few weeks since getting back from Stanage mainly battling against the rain. Have ben having little success at that though. But did get one decent trad day at my local, Jackdaw Scar. The weather was great and the conditions were perfect. Still we didn't manage to do an awful lot. Evan started up TD Corner which I told him was a moderate (was actually a MS) but even he didn't realise this till he checked the guide back home. There's a lovely 2 star crack on the end bay at Jackdaw Scar called Ivy Crack, which is E1. Due to not getting out much on trad. I'd still yet to climb a HVS, and therefore had only climbed my first two VS's at Stanage the other week. None the less, I wasn't fussed about the grade. I saw a nice route and wanted to climb it. We set two bouldering mats on the ground as the first piece of gear was going to be a way up the climb. Falling on to the mats the first time. I did it correctly the second time and was over the crux at the bottom and had my first piece of gear in. The holds were greasy and sometimes wet and I was starting to wonder what the conditions would be like further up. I made my further up. The climbing was getting noticeably easier, I was climbing with a clear head. I then got to a point where I could get into a rest position. The holds above me were soaking and I soon let doubt come into my head. I was a way up from my last bit of gear, and suddenly noticed I was running out of gear placements. I stopped thinking as much about my feet, and started trying to find handholds. I wasn't particularly nervous but I let doubt fill my head. The next thing I knew I was being hurtling 6 metres down through the air down towards the ground, then I came to a sudden halt as the rope caught me, pulling Evan in mid air, which gently lowered me onto the mats on my back.
"Are you alright?" asked Evan.
"Yeah!!!!" I replied.
I was feeling ecstatic. For me taking my first lead fall this early on in my trad climbing days was almost as good as climbing my first E1. I had climbed enough of it to know I could get to grips with it. And most importantly learn to trust everything; my gear, my partner, the rope, etc. I'm not foolish enough to think, that I can now climb without having to worry about danger or thinking I'll not get scared again. But I certainly know that any fear I'm having while leading a well protected route is irrational, and it is only a flaw in my head that's making me scared.

I've been going to Kendal aswell. I think my indoor bouldering grade might have dropped slightly but I'm sure it will get to what it was and then improve further through to the summer.

The other day I met up with Evan again. And on the spur of the moment we decided to go up Blencathra in completely the wrong gear. The snow was soft but everywhere and it was bitterly cold, considering I was dressed for a day bouldering at carrock fell. We also were in standard boots with no crampons and one dmm fly ice axe between us. Got some decent photo's though, despite the muck on my camera lense.

That's all really for now. The weekend is coming, who knows what it will hold, then there is the christmas holidays at the end of next week, and at least right now there is snow on the hills!

Ethan

Meeting Stanage Edge

For a good few months I have been wanting to get down to Stanage Edge but for one reason or another I haven't managed to get down there.

But on the first of November, Evan and myself met at Tebay Services and headed down into the Peak District. The weather was supposed to be awful towards the west, but in the east side of the Pennines the theory was it was dramatically different.
The journey down there was a long dull motorway experience mostly, but filled with excitement. We seemed to speak none stop for most of it. Travelling past Salford I looked down at it with content. Somewhere in all the hustle and bustle of that city was the hospital I was born in, the house I lived in until I was six, the house my mum and all her brothers grew up in, the same house I would visit as a young child regularly to spend time with my Grandma. Looking at it I had such a strong feeling of joy. I have so many beautiful memories of that place, yet I've spent such a short portion of my life there. I've always remembered being aware of my surroundings at a young age, I even remember sitting in the canteen at my school with the amazement that out of all the potential souls in the world mine was chosen and put into a living human body. Now it seems a bit strange looking back at it that a five year old was busy thinking about stuff like that rather than kicking a ball around with his mates, but honestly I did and for that I am glad. As because I was so inquisitive at a young age, rather than now seeing Salford as a blur, I feel it as an emotion. I now can still picture how every room looked in my house and I remember my Grandma as a person I love and respect, rather than just a faint memory. At that time in my life I felt only excitement for what lay around the corner, instead of fear. And right now looking over Salford I felt that very same feeling again for the first time in over 10 years. Because down there many years ago I often wondered what would become of my life, and now looking over Salford I could answer those questions with pride. I was now at the start of a long and adventurous lifestyle that all those years ago I would have hoped for. For the first time I felt I could proudly go up to that kid and make him smile even more for what he had to look forward to and the best thing was, I was now in that same position he was those many years ago but this time actually having a good idea of what lay ahead with just as much excitement, and the harder times that lay ahead of him were now behind me.

It wasn't long before we were in Glossop and I was beginning to see signs that we were in the Peak District. But the forecast was wrong. The sky was cloudy and the ground was wet. There was only 20 miles left. What difference could that make? A lot! We were still on the West side of the Pennines. We climbed steeply on to Snake Pass where the Peaks emerged in front of us. The Sun was out, the leaves glowed a dark orange and the water sparkled. For some reason I was never expecting the Peak District to be anything like as beautiful as this. At this point I would have had a hard time trying to convince a Lancastrian what the Lakes had to offer that here didn't. Within 30 minutes we were in the small town of Hathersage, rearing to go. We drove across to Stanage edge just to see it before we climbed on it the next day. At first we saw another crag, thinking that was the mighty stanage edge. Our faces lit up as we gazed over there in awe. "There it is then, it's beautiful". The car ventured over the brow of the hill and another crag was revealed a mile long, 25 metres high and glowing an orangey brown in the evening sun. This was Stanage Edge! "We've got to climb on it now!" I demanded. Evan took no persuading we yomped up the nearest path and got to the bottom of the nearest climb. A V.diff now graded Severe called 'Crack and Corner'. I started off up it. It was bizarre I couldn't do the first move. "What is this?" I thought. I persisted and got up it. Then continued up. It was getting dark and very chilly. I couldn't feel my fingertips against the rock. I ended up crawling under a tight gap below the overhang and going left. "I hope there not all this hard, are you sure that was a V.Diff, I rarely bother placing gear on a V.Diff in the Lakes but I was putting it all over that!" I was oblivious to how to climb on grit. It was my first time on it, I had numb fingers and most my experience on real rock had been limestone or rhyolite. Of course I would struggle to start with. This was a craft in itself and a craft I was about to learn very quickly throughout the week.
       We went to the spar to buy some overpriced microwave meals before checking in at Edale Youth Hostel, having our tea, chatting to a WGL trainee and going to bed. I was feeling rather unsure about grit. It all seemed to be slopers and large bold moves. I was going to have to except that I was very much a novice here.....

It was 8am I was woken up by all the early morning walkers. I decided to wake Evan up but he just groaned and fell asleep again. I woke him up again this time blinding him by drawing the curtains. He was soon out of bed. We went down for Breakfast. I made us some stodgy Porridge and burnt toast. Evan liked the Porridge but not the toast... I didn't like either. We then shot out into Hathersage. I bought some big Hex's, I thought I'd need them for stanage, and I'd been needing some for ages. We arrived at the base of the crag early in the morning, ready to climb. Evan looked at the guide book. He chose a Diff. His plan was that to be leading lots of Diffs to log. What he didn't realise was that his trad grade and confidence would shoot up and he would be leading HS by the end of the week. This however was not a diff.
       Dave, my uncle had a guidebook of the Peak District. He used to climb to a very good standard for them days. And he leant me his book. Evan for some reason didn't understand this book and when attempting a diff, started up the easy section (but still a lot harder than a diff) of an E4 and on to the top section of a HS. I did try to point out that there was an easy looking line right next to us, which must have been a diff. But he refused to except I good judge a route's grade by looking at it and therefore persisted up the HS (Hard Severe), thinking I was a "gobshite". We had also managed to climb in the shadow of a chimney and therefor freezed all the way up it. Luckily though, Evan had brought a group shelter. It seemed a bit excessive, but we were cold, so got under it to have lunch. That was just what I needed. I rose out of it warm and eager to climb. I walked straight up to a lovely lucking crack and said "what is that?"
to Evan. Evan and I have developed a general understanding that he looks at the guide and works out the route, even if I am leading it. Then he tells me where it goes, I don't take it in, start to climb anyway, go off route a bit and shout down for directions. But this time the route wasn't in the guidebook. So I simply looked at it, felt the rock, climbed the first move and decided to go for it. I was confident, and didn't care what the grade was, I would make my own route if it wasn't already one. I climbed the first few feet plonked a nut in and continued up. I kept going and came to the crux. This was a move which felt bold and tricky to a grit virgin like myself. I just decided to go for it and got up it without falling. I then traversed right onto a route called Black Hawk as this looked harder that going left. I got to the top and let out a joyful "whoop!" This was extremely out of character for me. Or perhaps this was very in character for me and I was a different person when doing what I truly loved. I was mentally in my element in this place and it was here I didn't care about anything other than climbing and feeling free.
 It turned out the route was Castle Crack HS 4b and the top was Black Hawk also a HS 4c, but I think the grade was probably around HS 4b. We only got two other climbs in that day. We went back to Hathersage, where we went for a very reasonably priced meal at the Little John Hotel, before retiring to Hathersage Youth Hostel.

I woke the next day after a bad nights sleep. We had run out of milk so had an even stodgier porridge for breakfast, before heading over into Hathersage. Evan had decided to buy the new Stanage Guide, and a very good idea it turned out to be. It was a lot easier to find the routes. Today, we warmed up on an even more shaded route, called Pedestal Chimney. It was a Diff and actually felt like it this time. I lead up it. And arranged to abseil of to allow Evan to Lead it too. The only thing was, the rope jammed and I had to climb back up. It was then a matter of walking round the top of the crag looking for a descent. In doing so I found Robin Hood's Cave. This was where My Uncle Dave and his mate Geoff, used to camp when climbing on Stanage. I had wanted to camp here instead of staying in Youth Hostels but luckily Evan and a layer of snow across the Lakeland tops had talked me out of it. I finally found a way down and belayed Evan as he lead up the climb. It was an absolute funnel for wind and this really got us cold.
I wanted to try a VS (very severe). I knew I could climb it I just never got round to it, as in the Lakes it's always long multi-pitch ascents that take up a lot of the day. I chose a fantastic looking route called Central Trinity (VS 4c). I set off up it with quite cold hands and fumbled around trying to get a bit of gear in. I was anxious, my finger tips were numb and I was in a bad stance and looking quite bizarre according to Evan. Evan was very helpful. He pointed out that I looked nervous and I wasn't going to climb it in this state. He was right I came down, taking the second bit of gear out having left the first bit in. I was annoyed with myself. I knew this was within my capabilities I just wasn't able to climb it. I kept telling Evan I could, and he believed me, I'm not sure I did. Evan wanted to climb Holly Bush Crack so we decided to do that before going back to Central Trinity.

Someone was on Hollybush Crack. I had had my mitts on for a while now and my hands were warm. I said to Evan "I want to give it another go now" So we did. This time I set of calm with a few nerves, mainly because of what had just happened. This time though I placed a second bit of gear with ease, and stuck the only cam I had in the horizontal crack to protect me on the left traverse. It was a perfect fit. Usually when I start getting nervous on a climb I get worse as it progresses even if the climbing gets easier. Here the opposite happened. I did the traverse calmly and headed on up the climb with ease to the top. I had done it. I let out another "Whoop!"  I was convinced I actually was a different person here because I did it again and again. Other people looked at me like I'd just climbed an E12. Evan told them I had just lead my first VS they thought a reaction like that was fair enough. But I wasn't whooping because I had climbed a VS. I was whooping because I had proved to myself what I had always believed. If you climb with a solid state of mind, calm and confidently, you'll climb with your full ability. This had been easier said then done in the past. But there was something about that climb which made me think. I thought to myself if I can't climb what I want to climb then I might as well fall off and die anyway. Then I climbed it with ease. I had learned a hell of a lot in the 10 minutes I'd spent on that rock. Next Evan did a very bold lead of 'Right Hand Trinity' graded Severe. He did it extremely well. We were both ecstatic from the days climbing. But we had only done 3 climbs, which seemed a bit embarrassing for a days work. We decided to do a quick Solo of Grotto Slab graded diff. I wanted to do it first. Evan was checking it out in the guidebook so I went for a slash against a rock. Then the next thing I knew he was off straight up it. "Ahh, you Bastard!" I said as I ran over towards it. I went up straight after him meeting him at the top of the slab just below the crux he went up and I followed. We arrived at the top buzzing. I ran back down along the top of the edge placing by feet directly on the rocks and stones that lined the moor. It was now dark. We gathered up our rucksacks ready to head down, when we saw two people out on the crag still climbing. They were two girls one had lead up and was now belaying, the other who was seconding was young and on her first climb. She was getting very scared and the girl belaying from the top couldn't see her because of an overhang blocking her view. She shouted over to me and Evan to offer her encouragement. Evan went over to her calmly offering advice. This really showed what a great people person he was and I could see right then that he'd be a great instructor. I soloed up to where the girl was to encourage her, and took a cam out she'd left in the rock. She went left below the overhang and got up ok. I then down climbed to the bottom. A man who seemed to be with them had been watching with a headtorch and spotted another bit of gear she'd left in further up. I soloed back up, borrowing his head torch, and realised it was a bit further up then I'd have liked. I moved out right onto the exposed section of the climb and managed to get it out. I then followed the girls route out left to the top. The owner of the gear was pleased I'd avoided her an abseil down to retrieve it. I ran back down to the bottom. I had done a good deed, and at the same time got a thrilling solo on a VD in the dark. I was feeling good about myself. "Well that's are good deed for the day" said Evan, "more like for the f**king year" I replied. We went to the pub for a pint before going back up to Edale Youth Hostel, where we cooked a rather disgusting mix of pasta, beans and sausage. I persuaded Evan that Cantabrian Mountain Stew looks rather rank but when you eat it its delicious and this would be the same.......I was wrong.

I woke up the next morning looking out the window. Everywhere was covered in fog. And the ground looked wet. I went back to bed feeling miserable. I was going to sleep for the rest of the day now. Then Evan looked out later to say it was clearing. I leapt out of bed and got dressed, and prepared some more stodgy porridge for breakfast. We then set off back up to Stanage. Today I wanted to have a go at two climbs; Inverted V (VS 4c) and the Right Unconquerable (HVS 5a). We started on a V. diff to warm up. Then abseiled off. Again jamming the rope leaving me to climb back up, throw the rope down and walk off using the path. It was then time for Inverted V. This is one my Uncle Dave had lead back in the 60's at my age with nothing but a rope tied around his waist, and 'actual' nuts with the thread drilled out of them for protection. Looking up at Inverted V, I was incredibly impressed by this. "It's a monster!" announced Evan. I had read about it's first accent in the guidebook done in the 1920's. They didn't even consider leading it and just did it on a top rope.

Inverted V

We got ready and I lead up it. It was one for hand jams. I placed some good gear on it. The crux was rather tricky, but after that it eased off. I climbed up below the overhang known as 'the birdcage'. Then I traversed right placing a sling around a giant chockstone jammed in the crack. I let out another "whoop!", for the third time this week. I really was a different person here. After that climb I felt like a part of history. It was quite probably the most obvious line I had seen on the edge. And a joy to climb.

Evan then went on to lead his climb of the week. A HS called 'Christmas Crack'. He had advice given to him by a man in his sixties who proceeded to solo on up it with a rucksack on his back. He was proof that climbing on this stuff was indeed a craft. I asked the guy about The Right Unconquerable. He said best not to do it if it was my first HVS. I said I'd only lead my first VS this week but wanted to give it a go anyway. He gave good advice, but I believed I could do it and wanted to at least go and have a look. I would have been prepared to fall on it. We went along towards it. Evan pointed out that it was a fair walk to get there and it would be going dark soon. I persisted and said I wanted to go anyway. He then told me that he was going at 5 and that was that. Again Evan was right. We wouldn't have had enough time. I said that alright we'd lead a quick severe right next to us called 'Little John's Step' and leave the Right Unconquerable for now, as long as he promised he would come back to Stanage with me in spring and I would climb it then. He pretended to spit on his hand and held it out, I actually spat on mine and shook his filling Evan's face with disgust. We then set to work on our last climb of the weekend. I started up it. I had said I would do it as 2 pitches as we only had one rope and the drag would be ridiculous on it. It was a monolith with a gap between the wall next to it. I lead up the monolith with no gear, and then set up a belay. Evan followed up. I then went onto the wall next to it. Placing a cam and climbing up and over the overhang. Evan followed up. It was now nearly dark. I stood out on the edge of the crag and did a final "whoop!" really loud across the Peak District. I realised then that it wasn't that I was a different person here, I could just finally be myself.

Thanks for Reading,
Don't be scared to bang a comment on the bottom,

Also have a read of Evan's account of our trip, it is a lot shorter then mine evanofthefells.blogspot.com

Ethan

Castle Rock

On Friday I went down to Castle Rock with Evan where we did a few climbs. It was a bit chilly today and we wrapped up warm. The first climb of the day was 'via media' graded severe. The first pitch was simple, but it took a while setting up a belay. The second pitch was more complicated, and could have been much more enjoyable were it not for my cold hands. The top gave great views of Skiddaw, with a thin scattering of snow around the summit. We then went down and decided to leave a VS with limited gear placements, as the temperature had seemed to drop even more and my teeth were beginning to chatter. We headed over to Yew Tree Climb a v.diff. I started leading and got up to the yew tree 15 metres up the pitch ready to place my first runner around the tree, only to realise I'd left the slings at the bottom. I therefore had to down climb to collect them, before working my way back up to put the sling round the tree, before doing a long run out all the way to the the top. While setting up a belay at the top a  few snow flakes were carried through the wind, and not long after that the temperature rose again. We then did the last climb of the day. A severe+ on a slab called 'Slab Route'. I was now warm and this was by far the most enjoyable climb of the day. Easy but technical climbing all the way to the last 3 metres where the wall goes vertical and a few bold moves lead to the top.

All in all a magnificent day unfortunately with no photos though.

Ethan

Climbing on White Ghyll and Lower Scout

White Ghyll

As the weather looked good 1st weekend of the month, Evan and I got some climbs in. On Friday we met at the ODG where and went up to Raven Crag where Evan was keen to lead 'Middle Fell Buttress' a classic 'diff'. We were the only ones out on a day like this. It showed bits of sunshine but all in all was rather dull. It drizzled regularly and the wind picked up on belays. This was Evan's first multi pitch lead. He went up it in good fashion, draping slings over spikes and putting good protection in the rock. I was happy just seconding today, as Evan wanted to build up his practice at gear placement. He lead it in about 4 pitches, The first was the full pitch, the second was lead in to due to an awkward conversation we had, where Evan shouted....

"Ethan I think we'll have problems communicating at the top of this pitch, so I'll cut it short"

I replied "What did you say, I can't hear you?"

Me with Langdale and Side Pike below

Evan then lead the last two in one. There was an option to climb up onto an additional pitch, but I was pretty cold and desperate for the loo, so we headed down the large gully on the left. I was only in rock shoes (not wanting to haul my size 14 boots up) and made sure I took it steady, whilst Evan seemed to hop down like a goat, in his walking boots. After a quick break outside the ODG, we went to lower scout, where I was all ready to lead Cubs Crack, an interesting looking single-pitch graded 'severe+'. I fussed around at the bottom trying to wrok out which hex to place. I then got it out jammed deep in the crack, then Evan said "I hate to say it, but I don't think we'll have time". He was right. We agreed to meet up again on Sunday, to do lower scout and then head onto White Ghyll, an interesting looking cliff  higher up.

Belayledge on Slabs Route 1

We met up in Ambleside nice and early and were in Langdale by 10. We decided to miss lower scout and head onto upper scout, only to find orderly queues, for the the only two climbs on the crag. We then went down to Lower Scout. From Friday I knew exactly which hex to use and where to put it. I put it straight in the rock clipped in and went up the climb, putting two slings over a rock spike and a tree close to the top. After bringing Evan up and collecting the gear we went straight up to White Ghyll.  This time I had brought some converse shoes which made the approaches and descent nice and easy. We arrived at the foot of the crag. I filled my bottle up at the stream and drank before passing it to Evan and spotting two strange looking water bugs swimming around in the bottom of the bottle, as he was drinking it. After pointing it out to him he instantly gave it back to me and said "enjoy!". I left Evan to work out the route whilst I enjoyed the sunshine. We had planned to climb the lower part of the crag now and then the upper later in the day. Evan found the bottom of 'Hollin Groove' (Severe+) and I set off up it. I climbed the first pitch rather badly, at one point holding on freely by my arms whilst trying to get a foothold. After that it got a little easier and I climbed on until I was finally at the first belay pitch with the holly bush at it. I was quite tense from the pitch, but decided to climb on as the pitch above looked quite easy, and there wasn't much space on the ledge. I climbed on up out of the sunshine into a groove. It was here that i realised it was dripping with water. Every hold was soaking wet. I kept on climbing, putting in runners at more frequent points. I just wanted to get up it. Although the climbing was less technical than the previous pitch, I was more nervous as I didn't know what to expect further up and it seemed to get wetter and wetter. I looked at my left hand; soggy, green slime was running down it. I managed to put my back against the rock in a chimney position. I took a rest and tried to calm my nerves. When your nervous climbing becomes much harder, the blood pumps around your body and you tire much quicker. I placed a hex in the rock and then carried on up. It was only a 15 metre pitch but it felt like it was 50. I eventually felt the sun on my face. I was at the top. Despite now being on level ground I found myself crawling to the back of the ledge where, I took a quick rest. I could now start to relax. I looked around the valley and up at Crinkle Crags and Bowfell. Then I set up a belay and Evan came up. He too was having trouble on the first pitch, so I kept as much tension as possible on the rope while bringing him up. When Evan reached the top we had lunch.

Evan setting off on the final pitch

Descending via the gully

Then we went down towards the ghyll and walked further up it to the upper part of the crag. Here we went on a slab where we planned to climb a 'severe' with the creative and imaginative name of ' slab route 1' I started up. It was 4 pitches but I reckoned I could manage it in 3. The climbing was constant and trouble free. I went up it quickly enjoying every move. Without realising I had passed the ledge described as 'unmissable' to Evan by the previous pair climbing on it, and went straight on leading 3 pitches in 1 before setting up a belay just below the top. I was tempted to climb higher and try and top out, but I couldn't quite work out how high it was and only had about 10 metres of rope left. After Evan came up he took the lead for the last easy part of the climb, before reaching the top. After sometime trying to find an anchor Evan set up a direct alpine style one on a rock spike and brought me up. After reflecting on the day we made a descent back down to Langdale via a scree covered gully.

A long and brilliant day - 22nd Sept

 It was the finest morning I'd seen in a long time. Thirlmere Reservoir held strong reflections of the surrounding hills, whilst the mist from the night's frost rose gently up out of the valley. Every mountain I had seen so far on the short journey, was bathing in the rich sunlight after a week of rain and a cold night. I was setting off towards Langdale, where I would meet Rory and Evan at the foot of Gimmer Crag, a broad bit of rock, sitting high on the southern slopes of the Langdale Pikes. The walk in was tricky, and steep. It was covered in scree and loose rock. But after a bit of trouble finding my way, I soon joined up temporarily with  the clear path below Harrison Stickle, before turning off again at the base of Gimmer.
    Evan and Rory had already chosen 'D-route' for the first climb, a single pitch 'severe +' graded climb that I had only just managed to arrive in time to join them on. We felt Pretty sure we were on the right route as I had spotted a large D written on the rock. It was only after a few irrelevant instructions from myself and Evan at the bottom, that Rory realised he had set off up the route too far right, and the route didn't actually begin anywhere near the 'D'. I could only put it down to a raven wiping it's ass against the rock and it coincidentally forming a that letter. Rory told me to take him off belay and 3 minutes later he emerged at the bottom of the crag, ready to start again, having soloed down the correct line of ascent (luckily this was the easy section and the crux was further up!). By now the clouds had come over and I was regretting leaving my fleece by the bags. By the time we had sorted out the correct route, and Rory was ready to belay me up, my fingers had gone numb, and because of this the climb seemed hard and rather dull. Once Evan was up we joined the two ropes together and abseiled down to the bottom of the crag, where we had our lunch and put on warmer clothing.
     Our next route 'Gimmer Chimney' (v.diff+) although technically easier, was a longer and more adventurous climb with 4 pitches. This would be my first trad multi-pitch, and I was keen to get climbing. After leaving a party in front enough time to get a reasonable way up the face, I lead the first pitch, an alternative route up to the first belay, that wasn't in the guide book, probably graded around 'severe'. It was particularly fun climbing. The first section (probably the crux of the pitch) was a steep slab, with thin cracks running up it. The moves on it were quite complicated and involved a bit of thought. I set on up it, placing a few nuts in the crack. Then the route went right, at an easy angle, I climbed quick and soon caught up with the larger group in front. Luckily they would be turning right up another route, so I waited for them to leave there belay stance, before traversing across to the ledge and setting up a belay myself.
      It was here that I realised I had done the whole pitch only clipping one rope in (the one evan was attached to) and the one rory was on ran free of any gear, all the way up to the belay. Luckily though the rope had caught around one part of the rock and didn't seem to be moving. This was the only thing that would have stopped Rory swinging out on the rope 50 foot across the face, had he fallen. They both came up fast and secured themselves to the belay. It was now about 5:00. And I had to meet Dad down in Langdale for 6:15. Luckily Rory had brought up his phone. I left a message on the home answering machine telling them I would be half an hour late. That would give us an hour to get up to the top and half an hour to get down into the valley. Rory set off on the next pitch, up a rather awkward chimney, before getting onto easier ground above, where he set up a belay. Me and Evan followed him up. When estimating the time it would take, I had been too optimistic. There was three of us. This made the climb more enjoyable as there never seemed to lack anyone to talk to, but at the same time it slowed things down a lot. There was a lot of time spent switching ropes across and sorting out other things. But I didn't let it bother me. I knew I was committed to the climb and I couldn't remember the last time I'd had so much fun. Rushing things wasn't going help, and could just lead to a mistake.

1st Belay on Gimmer Chimney

      There were two pitches left. I set off, up the next chimney directly above us, onto a ledge, this was probably where the guide book suggested a belay, but I was on a 50 metre rope and I had only climbed about 10 metres. I continued on climbing up an easy angled, gully covered in vegetation at the start of the next pitch. The climbing was easy and I hadn't placed any gear as of yet, as I never seemed to be in any danger of a fall. After placing a hex I climbed out of the gully and on to the more exposed rock. I climbed fast. In the back of my mind I knew I needed to be quick, but I made sure it didn't effect my enjoyment. The rock started to steepen a bit and I decided to put a bit of gear in, but couldn't find any easy placements. I went on, and realised that I was practically soloing. There was no 'oh shit' moment, I was just loving the climbing. I knew I wasn't going to fall and I'd never in my life felt such freedom. I climbed on up, knowing the top was close. After a few easy moves, the grass emerged and the climbing was over. I gave myself a few moments, to take in the view. I doubted whether the weather would be this good again until next summer. I put a long sling around a huge boulder ready to belay up the others. I shouted down for the next man to come up. I didn't get a reply. I remembered that I had probably just lead two pitches in one so shouted a lot loader. The noise bounced around against the cliff face, and was soon followed by a reply. I started to belay. I couldn't remember who was on the other end of the rope. About 5 minutes later Rory appeared telling me that I had just lead the two pitches on only one hex! He gave me the other end of the rope that he was attached to, and I belayed Evan up, who told me at least the hex was well placed. We then went over to the same abseil point we had rappelled off earlier that day.

The view from the top - makes up for the descent in the dark.

       It was now 7:15 exactly an hour over the time I had originally planned to meet my Dad at. The moon was now the main supply of light with only a faint orange glow from sun as it journeyed down beyond the horizon. Now the climbing had stopped, I felt worry all of a sudden. I just hoped Mum had got the message on the answering machine. I was still much later than I said I would be but at least it would take some of the worry away. By the time all three of us had done the two abseils down the face and packed everything away. It was 8:00pm. I said goodbye to the others and shot off down the hill side as fast as I could. At least I could keep moving and not have to worry about my parents. Boulders and scree covered the slope and my movement was slowed. I had no torch on me and only the moon guided the way. After what seemed like ages I had finally got on to the mickleden path where I ran all the way back with my 12kg pack. I burst into the back door of the old dungeon ghyll at 8:30, sweating like a pig. The noise and brightness really hit me after spending the last hour in the silent darkness. I scanned around and eventually found my Mum, there. For them it couldn't have been worse, Mum had come with Dad to pick me up. so they didn't get the message I'd left at home. Had I been back 10 minutes later, I might well have had the MR looking for me. So a good job I ran really!



Thanks for Reading.

Ethan

A week in the Swiss Alps

After a night at an airport hotel, an hour and a half on a plane and several hours of train journeys I was finally at the door of the Hiking Sheep in Leysin, at the start of the ISM Student Alpine Week. Which would turn out to be one of most enjoyable weeks of my life.

         My impressions of Switzerland so far were pretty good. The plane journey was certainly exciting, there wasn't much cloud about and the views were sensational even before we got towards the mountains. My head was constantly up against the window with my eyes scanning the horizon for alpine peaks (until the croissants came.... I kind of stopped looking then). After landing in Zurich and loading the luggage on to one of Switzerland's incredibly well designed trolleys that can go up and down escalators with as much luggage as you can fit on them, I was then shouted at by an airport assistant, who understood the laws of gravity far better than me, for trying to descend a busy escalator with what turned out to be far to many bags on the trolley. I then endured a 4 hour train journey to Lausanne. Where we had a change. After loading 5 heavy suitcases onto a train bound for Aigle, there was an announcement, that at the time we didn't understand, saying that the train wouldn't set off for a further 15 minutes due to technical problems. We thought the rumours of the Swiss' perfect punctuality must have been wrong, until all the Locals on the train (who were clearly not used to this kind of thing) groaned in unison and left the train out of principal, leaving us to follow them, assuming that the train must be delayed for at least a few hours. Luckily though Mum realised that Dad and her were staying at a hotel in Lausanne and we could leave our 80 kg of luggage there, rather than carry it on and off trains, all the way to Leysin. Only thing was, their hotel was at the top of a hill and the streets were cobbled to make it even worse! So 20 minutes later we arrived at the hotel where the view across Lake Geneva were absolutely stunning. I was a bit envious, but 2 days later I certainly wasn't. We then got the train to Aigle via Montreux where the rocky peaks surrounding us got even more magnificent. It was then up the cog railway to Leysin and to the Hiking Sheep where it all began. 

      We were rather unsure whether to head in or keep knocking. So we strolled in to find the owner and Tim one of course attendees in the kitchen. My parents had a quick brew before heading back down to there lovely hotel room in Lausanne. Tim and I sat down with our brews waiting for the others. Tea was due for 7 but it was about 6:40 and the other 3 hadn't showed up yet. But pretty soon Lucy and Ariana came through the door followed shortly by Peter and finally Paolo, our guide, who had come to meet us and run over what we would be doing this week. The first impressions of the course seemed good. The itinerary was much more laid back than expected, and I was already excited about doing some multi-pitch rock climbs the next day. Paulo then left us to our tea - Spaghetti Bolognese. Throughout tea the others had a nice long political conversation with the owner of the hostel, about immigration and governments. I took a back seat and pretended that I too watched the news and knew about world crisis by giving little agreeing nods and smiles, when I felt people might be on the verge realising my pretence. What I had gathered though was the nice welcoming feel of the Hiking Sheep, and what a nice bunch of people I was lucky enough to have on the course with me.
   
             Day 1

Breakfast wasn't due till 7:30, but I was up by about 6:40. I figured I would just sit and gaze at the fantastic views that surround the comfortable balcony of the hostel. The glacier and higher snow covered mountains lay quiet in the distance whilst the 2000m rocky peaks, surrounding the valley, were gently catching the morning light with a forest of tree directly outside the balcony. It was strange, despite having arrived here the night before I felt so at home here. The stress and chaos, that can be found so easily back in England, wasn't around and I found myself only excited for what lay ahead today and over the rest of the week.

A nice site to wake up to

Once the others were up and we had all had a nice breakfast, Paolo took us over to the ISM base to collect any gear we didn't have. We then headed up the valley in Paolo's van to where we would be climbing, with Mont Blanc sitting on the horizon for the majority of the drive. When we got out it soon dawned on me that I hadn't brought my water bottle and it was at least 25 degrees C in the morning sun. This wasn't good coupled with me forgetting to bring sun cream along too. After drinking as much as I could get down myself from a tap in the village we headed up out of the valley to a gentle slab with many easy grade bolted routes up it. We all seemed to have a reasonable level of experience climbing so Paolo left us to do a few routes before taking us to the top of the crag to show us the art of abseiling with a prussik chord. It was here after clipping in that Paolo introduce the first rule of alpinism - "Don't Fall!". Throughout the week this rule seemed to make even more sense, a fall in an alpine situation doesn't always offer the same level of protection as it would in a climbing situation. After a few quick descents of the crag we moved on and after a pleasant lunch stop, we then arrived at the venue for the multi pitch. It was an easy angled 4b route called Dragons that we would be doing, which despite being very easy, was great terrain to practice multi-pitch techniques on. We split into two groups; Me, Tim and Lucy in one and Peter and Ariana in the other. Neither Tim or I had ever lead on multi-pitch routes before so Lucy took the lead on the first two pitches before I took the lead on the final two. Paolo soloed along side both teams with ease, ready to assist in setting up belays. I happened to be the first to reach the top, where the views were sensational. But my climbing shoes that I would normally have considered quite big were now agonisingly small as my feet swelled in the heat of the midday heat. I was happy to take them off.
        We then walked down to our packs and Paolo demonstrated a few short-roping techniques before we went off to give it a try. This involves draping the rope over sticky out bits of rock whilst on the move. It is in this kind of situation where rule 1 comes into play. The rope is a last resort. Though it didn't matter as much on this kind of terrain as most the time, if a fall was possible it would have only lead to a drop of a few feet. Little did  we know that the next time we used this technique it would be on an alpine ridge with a 500 metre below. We finished by about 4, and set off back down to the valley. Despite having scrounged bits of water off people throughout the day, I was still really thirsty and was glad to see the tap again once we were back down in the village. Another thing I had forgotten was my camera, which would have certainly been nice to have had in this beautiful environment. This forgetfulness was probably down to tiredness from the night before, I remember thinking "Rock Climbing...erh...Rock Shoes and a Harness". But each thing I had forgotten had a consequence, as I now had a dehydration headache, red skin and no photos. I made sure I was much more thorough in my packing throughout the rest of the week. I knew in a mountain environment I couldn't be this stupid.

Peter did take photos however, so here's one of me that I stole from his facebook page.

        When we arrived back we all went down into Leysin for a drink, it was time for me to make use of Switzerland's lower age restrictions on alcohol (not that I actually knew at that point). Different conversations popped up, the main being why 'Awkward Tim' (the left handed vegetarian who doesn't drink) thought cows were bad for the environment. So I have decided to do my bit for the environment and eat more beef, there for getting rid of them (though I'm told that this logic has its flaws). We then went back up to the Hiking Sheep in Ariana's very cool VW van (that can sleep 5 people). Tea was a cheesy source with an Italian version of a Yorkshire Pudding. Throughout the meal more political talk popped up and I began to smile and nod again, but this time understanding at least some of the conversation (though still rather little). It was then upstairs to pack as tomorrow we would be leaving the hiking sheep and heading up to the Moiry hut above the Moiry glacier.


               Day 2

Lunch at the foot of the glacier

Breakfast was at the usual time of 7:30. We got plenty of food down us, then donned our boots and waited for Paolo. If you are reading this Rik the multi-tool already saved the day as Ariana's zip needed fixing on her Gaiters and it did the job straight away. We all then got in Paolo's van for the 2 hour drive up to the glacier that lay ahead. Broken up by an attempt to food shop at a Coop that didn't sell food, and then a successful shop at one that did. We parked at the foot of the glacier about 40 minutes later already at 2350m. We then walked into a perfect stop for lunch, looking over the glacier and on towards the 3565m peak of point de mourti, that we were due to climb the next day. The temperature still was at about 25 degrees. After lunch we strolled down to the glacier where we put on our crampons and practiced moving on this type of terrain. It felt a bit strange to me at first but by the end of the week walking in crampons over the glacier would come pretty naturally. We then practiced going up steeper ice by cutting handholds for the the hand that didn't have an ice axe in it. This got my thin gloves pretty wet and useless which was timed perfectly with a nice cold wind that started blowing down the glacier numbing my fingers. The mitts were out soon after to warm my hands back up. We then roped up and moved along the glacier. This was certainly the most exciting part of the day. Lead by Paulo we had to make our way around crevasses up to 2 metres wide at points; this was done by either finding a narrow point and jumping over it or finding the end of the crevasse and going around it. I was feeling much more confident in my crampons, but perhaps still a bit wobbly. This strangely seemed to add to the fun of it despite there being bottomless holes below us. In about half an hour we were off the glacier and onto safe ground, all keen to make our way up to the comfort of the hut as the rain started to drip down.

When I thought of a hut in the mountains I thought of the typical mountain bothy in the uk or perhaps at best a scruffy youth hostel if I was lucky. But no, it was like a hotel. Apart from the fact you were on bunk beds and you needed a sleeping bag liner, (which I didn't have) as the sheets don't get washed very often.







The Dining area had huge windows

on the sides looking out onto the glacier and the mountains directly outside the hut. And as for the balcony, it made my parents hotel room view in Lausanne look like a motorway service's. They also give you clogs that go up to size 12, yet they fitted my size 14 feet perfectly. And to top it all off tea was ready pretty soon. We all sat down ready. The food was delicious and plentiful, as there was a left overs trolley that people put the trays of food on, once they couldn't shove any more on to their plates. I became known as 'the terminator' by the end of the week; a name given to me by another ISM group for always clearing the trays of any left overs. We then went up to our room for a good nights sleep, as breakfast was at 5:30.

        Day 3


I awoke at 4:30 to find the rest of the team having a lie in. So happily dozed of till 5:20 just ten minutes before breakfast. Water here cost around 8 francs a bottle so I made sure I
hydrated with plenty of hot chocolate at breakfast.

We then put our boots on and were out of the hut by 6:15 ready to start the walk up to the glacier. A start as early as this is important, as we needed to get back before the glacier started melting in the afternoon sun. It wasn't long before we arrived at the glacier. We put on our crampons, roped up and got our ice axes out. Before making our way over to the ridge of Point de Mourti. We stopped below the ridge to take the crampons off and it was here the alpine giant of Weisshorn came out of the clouds. With the help of our ice axes we gained the ridge, via a messy scramble up the flakey soil. It was here that rule 1 was critical, if someone fell of one side of the ridge with no protection from the surrounding rock, the person on the other end of the rope would have to jump off the other end to act as a counter weight. I took the lead for a while. Draping the rope over rocky spikes. In about 30 minutes time we were off the ridge and crampons were put on for the final bit of snow leading to the summit. Due to spending the night at 2850m, none of us seemed to notice the altitude, but we all seemed to be perhaps that bit slower than we would be at sea level. None the less we were soon on the summit of point de mourti at 3564 metres. This would be the highest mountain we would climb all week and the highest mountain I had climbed to date. The Madonna statue on the summit made a perfect anchor for our ropes, as we tried to get as many photos as we could before the cloud rolled in.
         After a careful descent down the ridge, a slog across the glacier, and a walk back along the rocky path, we were now back at the hut in good time, where we had our lunch which consisted of: bread, salami, cheese, tomatoes, cucumber and mayonnaise. After lunch we then practiced crevasse rescue techniques in the safe environment of the hut. The Pole that held the swiss flag, was a perfect anchor point. After we had all rescued each other at least twice, we then went round the back of the hut where Paolo made good use of the ladders and balconies. He set up two ropes and demonstrated how to climb the rope with prussik loops. We then had a go, trying not to wake up a team of sleeping residents in the room of the balcony we were attached to. It was now 4:30 so Paolo called it a day and we all went inside to relax. After Dinner we all played a game. It was one that involved a secret mission you had to complete to gain points. The only problem was, it was written in the 3 swiss languages: French, Italian and German. And the problem was, different sections of it were written in different languages. But luckily we were a group full of multi linguists, so that wasn't a problem. Paolo is Italian but speaks French and obviously English, Lucy is English but her Dad is Italian so she speaks that too, as well as French and Chinese and probably a few others that never popped up, Ariana is originally from Andorra but speaks Spanish, French, English and another one which I can't pronounce. She also lives in Munich so can probably speak rather good German too. And finally Tim spoke German and quite a bit of French. As a group the language barrier was smashed into pieces. But Peter and I only spoke English, which didn't really contribute our indestructible force. In fact I felt quite pathetic having to get one of the other players to read my secret mission to me! Since I went to the Picos de Europa last year I have wondered about learning spanish, and now feel I perhaps should. After the game we all went to bed, I was certainly excited about Ice Climbing the next day.

              Day 4

We were up at about 7:00 today. It felt like a lie in. I was quite excited the night before about the nice few bowls of hot chocolate I was planning to have in the morning. Unfortunately there wasn't any so it was tea I hydrated myself with instead. We then got ready and made our way down to the glacier. We roped up and moved across. It was this same section of glacier that I felt so unstable on the other day, crevasses were all over it and sure footedness was essential. Luckily by now moving across the glacier felt much more natural and I didn't even need to think about my walking style. It was the nicest day we'd had so far, as there were very few clouds and no wind. Just as we were making our way down a tricky section next to a crevasse Ariana slipped. I held my coil tight at the front, while Peter, who was at the back, started running in the other direction to tighten the rope and act as a counterweight. Luckily though it wasn't needed as there was a small ice wall sticking up above the lip of the drop. And Ariana was stopped by it almost straight away. We were perhaps a little more wary afterwards, but we still moved fast and efficiently. Ariana carried on as if it hadn't happened and even said that she was glad of the experience! Paolo soon found an ideal venue to set up some top ropes and practice our Ice Climbing technique. It consisted of 2 routes to start with, just to get used to the feel. Then we had a go at putting an ice screw in half way up one. 

And Paulo then set up a final harder route on an overhang. I was first up. It was here that I really started to enjoy the climbing and got the feel of it. I even found my feet bridging over to another part of the wall and my body leaning into the ice, to take the weight off my arms. A bit of rock climbing technique was kicking in. After a slight slip that had me dangling on to the wall by one axe, I was up to what seemed to be near enough the top, of this makeshift climbing route. After I was lowered down, I went and sat out in the sun, to warm up my hands again, whilst the others had a go. The venue itself was pretty amazing so I made sure I got some pictures of it whilst I waited. It was then back up to the hut for lunch. 

Nature's Architecture

            After Lunch we then set off to do a newly bolted multi-pitch route on the rock face behind the hut. It was a really nice afternoon with perfect views across the glacier. Unfortunately Ariana wasn't feeling well, as she had jolted her neck in her slip before, so she rested at the hut. Paolo would go up first leading one rope with Lucy seconding. This way Paolo could place gear in the rock where bolts were scarce. Then either myself, Tim or Pete would lead it again with two ropes and the two people seconding attached to an end each. Then the leader would bring up the two seconds, and the last one to come up would take all the quickdraws out as well as any gear Paulo had placed before hand. It's much simpler than it sounds! Tim lead the first two pitches really well (especially considering it was only his 2nd time leading a climb). Then Pete lead the 3rd pitch (with the crux) and I was due to lead the 4th and final summit pitch, only to find that at the top of the Pete's pitch, the route was only 3 pitches long! To be honest I was a bit relieved as my stomach wasn't feeling too good, due to the amount of white bread I'd had all week. We then went over towards a belay at the top, where we could abseil down the 100m face. This was a very cool end to the day. Paolo headed down first to the second belay station, while me, Tim and Lucy with Pete, who had quite a bit of experience at abseiling down sea cliffs, agreed to go last and help us set up if we needed it. We then made our way back down to the hut and chilled out before tea, after what had been a very enjoyable and leisurely day. The same game was played as last night, this time a lot quicker, now we didn't have to work out the rules. We then went to bed. Another Alpine start was needed for tomorrow.

     
  Day 5

  
 

Weisshorn

It was breakfast at 5:30 again, but this time the hot chocolate powder was there, so 2 bowls of hot chocolate were drunk. After Breakfast it was off, and we were out of the door by about 6:30 ready to climb Pigne de la le (3392m). Today was a perfect day for the summit; there were few clouds around and the sun was shining brightly. In only 40 minutes we were at the bottom of the ridge that lead to the top of mountain. Crampons so far had not been needed and still wouldn't be on the ridge. We had a quick rest to take photos and hydrate, before roping up and heading onto it.

       We went fast, with everyone feeling much more confident in their heavy mountaineering boots. I was on the rope with Pete, and Lucy and Tim were on the rope behind. Paolo came up unroped. Ariana still wasn't feeling well so remained at the hut. No pitches where needed here, it was all simple short roping and it wasn't long before we were of the ridge below the summit. Crampons were put on to cross a last section of snow. The views were sensational. We could see as far as the Bernese Oberland and peaks such as Weisshorn and the Matterhorn were clearly visible. We all just chilled out on the top for about 10 minutes. I knew I wasn't going to see a view like this for quite a while, so I made sure I took as much in as possible.

We then made our way down the other side of the mountain, towards a slope that we would use to practice crevasse rescue on. This involved one of us throwing ourselves off the slope while the person roped behind, would stop the fall, make an anchor and then use a complicated system with prussiks to hoist them up. This is a vital skill to learn before you head onto glaciers. Particularly above the snow line, as many crevasses are completely covered in snow. This became more clear to us on the way back down to the hut. We had set off as the glacier was starting to melt, and holes were opening up around us. It was amazing how quickly your enviroment can go from safe to dangerous out here. We kept moving until we were off it onto the firm rock. All that was left now was a short walk back to the hut, Paolo shook all our hands before we set off. The course was over. On the way down a helicopter was out on a rescue. This was a final reminder of the dangers that are present at all times in mountain ranges like the alps. We were soon at the hut where we had a quick lunch before setting off back to the car park round the side of the glacier. But it wasn't over yet. As an extra activity Paolo very thoughtfully broke up the journey with a quick stop by a roadside crag for a climb or two. The rock was fantastic. And it was certainly a nice way to round up the week.
      On the way back we dropped Lucy off at the station in Aigle before arriving at the Hiking Sheep shortly after. This place felt strangely like home. I certainly wouldn't have minded living here. We all had a well needed shower before saying goodbye to Ariana, who was setting off on a six hour drive back up to Munich. We then went down to make a brew. "Back to reality" said Tim. "Not quite, we're still up in the mountains." I replied. It wasn't until darkness came that I suddenly realised Tim was right. I had learned so much this week and had met some really nice people, but above all the being amongst the alpine peaks was what I would miss the most in the coming weeks. We headed down to the Lynx bar where we met up with Paolo to say thank you one last time for the fantastic week. The cheesy olympic ceremony was on the background. It was strange how it all seemed so unimportant in a place like Leysin. The mountains were what mattered here. TV, politics, even the olympics were all things that were much more essential in England once we were back to the routine of an urbanised life. But not out here. Paolo said goodbye before he left and then we too did the same. It was back up to the Hiking Sheep for bed.
     
We woke in the morning and after having breakfast Pete left and said goodbye. I waited around in the hostel until the train arrived. I then said goodbye to Tim wishing him the best for the next week he had planned on the Montarossa course. I made my way onto the cog train looking forward to spending the next week in Lucern with my parents. One of the participants on the ISM Summit and Trek week came on the train. We got talking, and soon he said excitedly "Oh, are you the Terminator?". Word had obviously gotten back to the ISM base about my large appetite. We were soon down in Aigle. There was Mum waiting patiently, while Dad rummaged around the storage area of the coach trying to get their bags out. Mum caught my eye I as I went over to meet them. "Hi......I've had an amazing time. How have you two been?" I looked up at the 2000 metre peaks surrounding the valley. It was funny. For the last few days I had been sleeping in a luxurious mountain hut higher up then any of them. Now they towered above me and the sun shone in my eyes just trying to get a glimpse of their tops. I truly was back to reality.

Thanks for reading,

Comments welcome as always....