The Fear is Here

The guidebook I’m using gives each day a grade to indicate how hard it is. Grade 3 is a short easy walk, grade 2 is a “classic HRP day” with a fair amount of ascending and descending, and grade 1 is “suitable only for experienced, well-trained mountaineers.” The vast majority of days are grade 2, with a few of grades 1 and 3.

There is a fourth grade, E, which stands for extreme. There are 4 of these, and today was the first. I’d been looking forward to it, as it was the first day that involved serious snowfield crossings, but I’m no-longer looking forward to the others!

Dundonnell Kit Test

Driving north towards Dundonnell in north west Scotland, the little snowflake warning light in the car lit up and we began to realise what we were in for. We were hoping to climb the Fisherfield Six (the remotest of all the Munros) but after the heatwave of the previous weekend, the weather had completely changed.

Scotland has a lot it can throw at you. In addition to the cold, Andy and I have experienced rain, hail, snow and quite a lot of wind in the last 48 hours, prompting him to suggest that this was as much a test of resolve and endurance as it was of the kit.

Freedom

Last night I handed in my security pass and left RBS for the final time. For the first time since I was at university, I’m now unemployed.

The guys from work bought me an awesome Leatherman Blast as my leaving present, then joined me for some drinks in a bar near the office. The Leatherman was one of the last few things left to buy from the kit list - probably the most useful leaving present ever!

We need kit, lots of kit

I’ve been steadily researching and acquiring more gear over the last few weeks, which has helped build the excitement to the point where I’m struggling to sleep when I lie down at night!

Following on from the tent, I’ve now got a light-weight Grivel Air Tech Evo ice axe, some Grivel Air Tech crampons, a PowerMonkey Explorer solar charger and a super-flexible Primus Omnifuel stove that can burn just about anything. I still have to buy some pans but I’ve got my eye on some lightweight titanium pans from Alpkit (although the Primus Eta pans have come in a close second).

Crampon Crisis

Having discussed crampons at great length over the weekend in Ambleside, I took one of my boots into Snow and Rock this evening to get some advice about which type of bindings would work best. My boots (some ancient Scarpa Mantas) are not super-technical, but were designed to take walking crampons for crossing snowfields and glaciers.

Unfortunately the boots are getting on a bit (possibly 10+ years old - I can’t actually remember buying them) and they were re-soled last year after a Guatemalan volcano (Pacaya, since you asked) melted the glue binding the original soles. The distance the boots have walked and the re-soling have combined to leave them considerably more flexible than they were originally - so much so that they are now apparently beyond the limit for even walking crampons.

Ambleside and the Akto

Following the broken rib 5 weeks ago, painkiller-allergy 4 weeks ago and hernia operation 3 weeks ago, I’m unable to walk too far at the moment, and haven’t yet ventured back onto a bike. Normally this would make a stay in Ambleside rather frustrating, but while the rest of my family are out cycling the Fred Whitton or walking, I’ve been discussing tents, stoves, ice-axes, crampons and water-purification with the shop-assistants here.

Reading Material

I dropped into Stanfords earlier this evening, hoping to find a copy of the new guidebook I’m going to take to the mountains, and left about an hour later and over £120 worse off!

Last time we were in the Pyrenees we took the original guidebook written by Georges Veron when he came up with the idea of the HRP back in the late 1960s. In the intervening 14 years I’ve mislaid that, so decided to try the “other” guide - Ton Joosten’s “Pyrenean Haute Route”. The second edition of this was only published last year, so hopefully it’s going to be up-to-date with any changes on the ground.

Three months to go

Three months from today I should be setting off from Hendaye, with 800km of Pyrenees ahead of me.

Right now though, nothing could seem further from reality. As a result of a stupid snowboarding accident I’m sitting in a bar in Aspen with a broken rib. The doctor here thought I might have damaged my liver as well, but luckily $3k worth of CAT scan has shown that all is well. Apparently the ribs should be back to normal in 6 weeks or so.