Climbing the Matterhorn. Roped up!

Climbing the MATTERHORN

Roped up!

My guide and mentor has brought to my attention that I give the impression that we climbed unroped!  I do note that I said "not being roped up meant we climbed fast, moving together"...OF COURSE WE WERE ROPED UP...........from outside the Hornli Hut until we arrived back at the end of the day.  But we did move together, fast, with coils carried...there is a note where I say "..while a belay was set up.." well that required us to be roped up!! tied together, each at the end of one rope!  Hope that clarifies my unintentional omission.  I was concentrating in my mind on the mountain, and the speed, and the wonder of the whole day.  Rob took meticulous care of me at all times, belaying me up the Moseley Slab, where I had a rest, and up and down the fixed ropes.  We did the whole thing in guide book time.  Time has passed, and I forgot the details!

Climbing the MATTERHORN

1994

The Matterhorn from Zermatt

Ticking a box? fulfilling a dream I had held for nearly 40 years?  Here I was in Zermatt with my friend Rob Collister ready to guide me on the mountain, and my son, Peter, to see me off up the Hornli Ridge.  Wedged on the matrazenlager between a snoring Italian,and my son, sleep evades me.  Will I make it? Will I actually try? Peter and I had sat outside the busy hut the previous night looking up at the stars, the sky black and the mountain looming and waiting.  

Rob and I had done a practice climb on the Trifthorn a few days earlier, and I had come down to find that Peter was going to join us and walk up to the Hornli Hut.  I was overjoyed.  We ate Rosti and fried eggs in the sun, and the reality of a difficult mountain seemed far removed from the sunny touristy town, with horses clattering past dragging luggage boxes, and postcards of the Matterhorn for sale right and left.  As someone wrote "the mountains one dreams of....are not the mountains one climbs...matters of hard, steep, sharp rock .."  And the Matterhorn has a reputation for loose rock and stonefall.  

Rob on the Trifthorn

Taking the lift up to Schwarzee Peter helped with my pack, and we spent the evening in the Hornli Hut, which was packed out.  We rose at 3 to get an early start, in the dark, ahead of all the other hopefuls.  Struggling amongst all these people in the dark, Nescafe and dry bread were swallowed with difficulty, and I stuffed the chocolate in my pack to sustain me.  On went headtorch, and harness, and crampons and out the door we went.   We each tied onto an end of the rope, and Rob carried the excess in coils round his neck.  Hard work, and glad it wasn't me!

.M.A. and Peter

To begin with we had to overtake three ropes of Germans, blundering about in the dark then onwards and upwards.  We climbed fast, "moving together" with no breaks for a rest while we belayed the next section, so it was pretty relentless, but it is important to move quickly and continuously and be down again before the weather may set in.  I had learnt this over many years of climbing in big mountains, the weather can deteriorate in the afternoon.   Moving together is the preferred option.   We did stop and belay two places, the Moseley Slab and the fixed ropes.

No time for "enjoying the journey" really, till we came to these fixed ropes, where I had to wait while Rob climbed up and fixed a belay, then having got my breath back, and put on my crampons I ascended.

Coming up the Ridge

I just noticed at the top of the ropes that as we neared the summit ridge the mountain dropped off 5000ft on both sides, look ahead, M.A., not down!  We came to the top, to the metal figure of a woman, not a cross, which was further along, and sat down. I was very scared up there.  The views were amazing but I felt very exposed.   Rob wanted me to make it along the narrow snow ridge to the cross on the other summit, but I was unable to do that.  As far as I was concerned, I was on top of the Matterhorn, all we had to do now was get down again and go home!!!!  Thanks Rob!  I will enjoy it all later!

M.A. on the summit of the Matterhorn

MOROCCO, the High and the Low

MOROCCO

Mount Tobkhal and the Jbel Sahro

Nieve Penitente on Toubkhal summit

I went on my own to check out the High Atlas before I lead any treks there as had heard of two fatalities during trekking trips there.  I had Hamish Brown as a friend and mentor, an expert on the High Atlas, and just a mention of his name assured I would not be molested or troubled!  I ascended from Marrakech to Imlil and then to the Neltner Hut, at 3200m.  It was June, and therefore I found snow from the winter still lying, and better still, frozen at night, so that I did not have to fight the scree behind the Hut, I just dug in my crampons and axe and up I went into the hanging valley, the Ikhibi Sud.

Two French lads were coming up behind me, and took this photo as I teetered delicately over these Nieve Penitente (ridges of hard snow ice so name as they lean towards the sun, as they melt, like penitents!) on my crampons.   It was tricky as my ice axe had nowhere to find a hold.  Reaching the top of this mountain,the highest in North Africa (4167m/13,671ft) the views were amazing in all directions.

summit

Ikhibi Sud

After a hard boiled egg and a slurp of water it was off back down to the Hut and then to Marrakech before heading for the Jbel Sahro in the Anti Atlas.

The Jbel SAHRO

In the south of Morocco, pre Sahara Desert, is an area of hard sand, or hamada.  In this wild and empty barren landscape there are wonderful volcanic plugs and dried out wadis, and at night the sky is all stars. We travelled with the Berbers, the hill men of the Atlas, who mostly speak French derived from the time they were colonised by the French, until Indepence in 1956.  Wonderful men, who laugh and sing and love their animals, it was always a pleasure to be with them.

DOLPO - a small corner in the far north western corner of Nepal

DOLPO

I was fortunate to lead a group to this area in 1996.  No other trekkers, no tea houses or campsite, just a few Tibetans with horses.  This is very different from the Khumbu (or Everest area) of Nepal.  It was exciting to be somewhere totally new, for me, but also daunting to know how alone we were here.  No back up at all.  I only give a small description of the area, for the trip itself was terrifying on some days, we were plagued by snow, and storms and were lucky to make it to Phoksumdo Lake without mishap.

Lake Phoksundo

First opened to visitors in 1988, Dolpo has existed quite independently from the rest of Nepal, isolated and trapped in a time warp.  Being close to the Tibetan Border their way of life shares much with the Tibetan people.  The nomadic people of Tibet, the Kampas, with their high cheekbones, used to live here much of the time when the Dalai Lama was resisting invasion of Tibet in the early 1950s.  Some of these men visited us in our tents when they were bringing their horses and cattle down from the high ground after some snow fell.  They are fierce, proud men, who have still not been tamed by the Chinese.

These flat roofed houses with the firewood piled on the roof, and the inner courtyard with its ladder and steps hewn out of the wood, usually have a set of yak horns above the door.  To dispel evil spirits?  There

Dolpo house

being no trees or bushes nearby the family will have walked many hours to collect firewood.   They also burn the stalks of the barley, harvested earlier in the year, and dry out the yak dung as cakes in the sun, or slapped against the walls of the house to dry, as these burn well.  Nothing is wasted.

The family live in a room off he courtyard where the woman of the house has a small fire in the middle of the floor.  The smoke drifts up through cracks in the roof.  When we visited, the old lady was cooking potatoes, which have become a staple food in Nepal now, and she handed us one and mashed one up for the baby.  Each potato is a valuable treasure as crops here at 17,000ft have a very short growing season, with snow lying well into June. The ground is also poor and stony, and is rock hard for months.  In Zanskar I learnt that the local people will take some soil indoors during the winter to keep it unfrozen, and then lay this soil on top of the snow.  This soil is then sown with seed as the snow below it melts and simultaneously waters the seeds.

We visited the village of Dho Tarap, which sits in a wide valley and has been a trading crossroads for centuries.  Yak wander around and these girls were curious and came close, giggling, and I noticed one using

Girls in Dho Tarap

twigs to comb her hair.   Just beyond Dho Tarap we came across about forty little children dressed in their chubas or coats, who were attending the Crystal Mountain School, where there is a dormitory for 25 children and 12 teachers.  Their motto here is 

"The aim of education is not knowledge but action"....

Our journey took us over two high passes to Ringmo and the wonderful azure blue of Lake Phoksundo.  Here there is also a monastery, occupied by six monks.  From this lake one can walk north to Shey Gompa, made famous by Pieter Matthieson in his book The Snow Leopard.

All around this area is simplicity and happiness and one is filled with a sense of peace and contentment.  It is at times like this one must reflect on the pace of life we have inflicted on ourselves in our modern fast world.   I hoped to try and put this little corner of Dolpo into a small box in my heart, to which I can return and from which I may draw strength and tranquillity in the future.  

Phoksundo Gompa

MOUNT KAILASH, TIBET

MOUNT KAILASH

Tibet

Mount Kailash is in western Tibet, a mountain sacred to both Hindus and Bhuddists.  It is the goal of the faithful to do a "Kora" or circumnavigaton of the mountain, once in a lifetime.  Pilgrims come north from India, usually Hindus, or from the east of Tibet and Lhasa, to make the kora, and the most devout will do the entire 50 kms prostrating the ground as they go.  (This means bending to one's toes and then stretching forward to one's full length on the ground before standing up, and this is reapeated. They wear thick gloves and knee pads for this.) Mount Kailash is also the point where the four big rivers of Asia originate, the Sutlej, the Brahmaputra, the Indus and the Karnali.  This is regarded as very significant.

We approached from the south, from Nepal, and walked in to the Tibetan border with horses, piled high with gear.  It was dusty but memorable, to pass and visit monasteries, and drink tea with monks en route, and to cross rivers, and then at the Border play cards with the Chinese guards in their bedroom while we waited for our truck.  

As we bumped our way across the Tibetan plateau looking out for a sight of Mount Kailash, we stopped at Tirtapuri, which is the third most important pilgrimage site where the nomadic Kampas, arriving in trucks, also do a short small  kora round the hot springs.  This was a magic spot with pilgrims arriving carrying pots and pans and we felt privileged to share this time with them.

After making a spectacular visit to Tsaparang in the far west we then aimed for Darchen, from whence we began our four day kora round the mountain.  

We loaded our yaks and set off.    It is bleak and stony and cold, and wonderful to be part of this traditional walk round his most sacred mountain, meeting Tibetan pilgrims and trying to absorb the meaning of this walk. One of the party ties a white ribbon round her arm, which means we are not to talk to her (but we notice does not stop her from talking..).   We share some tsampa with our porters, crouching low in the wind. The high point of the walk is the Dolma La (18,600ft/5669m) and here it is customary to leave behind prayer flag to join hundreds of others flapping in the wind.  Some people leave behind teeth, hair, coins and bits of clothing, but we left just flags.   Thereafter to Lake Manasarover, where we camped by the water and the tents filled with sand, but we collected some sacred water for an old crone we had met earlier.  

High on this Tibetan Plateau "the sense of space is awe inspiring, emphasised as it is by the line of telegraph poles stretching to infinity".  The experience of the emptiness and grandeur of Tibet and the mountains was perhaps almost surpassed by the close contact with the people and culture of Tibet at the hot springs.

MANI RIMDU FESTIVAL, NEPAL

The Mani Rimdu Festival is held in Nepal, twice a year, and we were there for the November ceremony, in 1995, which is always tied into the Tibetan Lunar Calendar.   We were supposed to go to Gokyo Lakes and then come back for the colourful dancing ceremony which is the final coming together involving monks and public, which takes place at Tengboche |Monastery, above Namche Bazaar in the Khumbu area of Nepal, that is the Everest area.  Tibetans and Sherpas come from far and wide to participate in this exciting event.

The Lama Dance

Fortunately for us, the moon dictated that the Festival would be delayed three days which did not give us time to go into Gokyo, and we filled in time pleasantly enough, enjoying the superb views around us, until the day arrived, when we enjoyed being part of this event.  The Yellow Hats approached the monastery blowing on the Tibetan horns, and there is an air of joy and fun, and celebration.

"Yellow Hats" lead the way

Thereafter we threw rice on the floor of the inner courtyard, and the dancing began, with old and young, Tibets and Sherpas and trekkers, all joining in the fun.    There is a clown who drew in one of the spectators to play silly games, fighting one another with sticks, the first man ran away, but the second got into it and pretended to hit the clown.  

After all this excitement we retreated to our tents, and in the night the snow started to fall.  It snowed in bucketfuls and I watched the walls of my tent sagging inwards, as the truth dawned on me that I would have to do something about it!  As leader of a group here I had to take action for my clients, and it was 5 am!  I got up, and surveyed the scene, and tried to bang snow off the collapsing tents.  The kitchen tent was already flattened, no breakfast there today.    Speed was important as there were only two Lodges nearby and I knew they would soon be filled with refugees from the snows.   Independent trekkers always display an air of disbelief that this is actually happening..to them.!  My group was told what to do!

Thereafter the whole area was transformed by a situation totally out of our control.   Unbeknown to us till then, we found that a  large avalanche had come down on a lodge on the route into Gokyo and killed 29 Japanese inside, and there were trekkers marooned at Chukkung, Lobuche and Gokyo, unable to walk out, as the snow was waist deep, some crawled, and others waited for a helicopter to come.  Some people even fought for a place on a chopper we were told.  Panic reigned.   Eventually the sky was full of the sound of rotor blades, as the choppers came in to rescue people.   Had the Festival not been delayed we might well have been near that avalanche.  Who knows.

The yaks were very vulnerable and news emerged that 1000 had suffocated in the snows.  

Nonetheless it seemed I had a trek to run, and clients to placate  "I saved up for this trip for three years, why can't I go to Gokyo?"   "You don't like snow M.A." so I had to do my best.  I arranged for three of them to walk a little bit towards Lobuche, but knew they would not get far, but they could not take it in.  Something happens to some clients in a group where they feel being in a group, is like being in a bubble, and they are isolated from the reality around them, and all will still be possible.  

Waist deep powder hides the path

I took the remaining clients out for a couple of hours through the snow, as it was pretty exciting.  But the ever present helicopters overhead did remind us we were in a very serious situation and lucky to have escaped.  

When I returned to the UK, I saw a headline in the paper "Avalanche of Death" and the news that 63 people had died and 549 airlifted to safety.  Some of the dead were porters, shod in baseball boots, going over high passes with groups aiming to climb a peak.  They just died where they were, in the snow with their baskets on their backs.