Adventures must be done!

4 Months in a Nutshell - Patagonia & Falkland Islands

2011-03-03T23:12:00.013+01:00

Being out there beats writing blogs by a long way, thus no detailed account of those 4 months of adventuring will be provided here in a hurry.

Rather, this condensed picture gallery shall give the interested viewers an overview.

Sailing to Uruguay on the Rio de la Plata

The first trip in the Andes a few hours South of Santiago

Beautiful rock scramble along an interesting ridge

Enjoying the first sunshine after 3 days of relentless rain

Dawn during ascending Mt Lonquimay

One of the many volcanic peaks

Tramping across extensive snow fields in Puyehue NP

Camping near the hotsprings

Brocken spectre - being holy for change!

Using those crampons and ice axes in Nahuel Huapi NP

Cruising from Puerto Montt to Puerto Natales

Lenticular clouds in Torres del Paine NP

A tiny fraction of the Southern ice field lies in front of us

Flamingos in a lagoon

Front of the Perito Moreno glacier

Pearly scattering effects in storm whipped clouds above Mt Fitzroy

The Fitzroy Range

Off the beaten track in front of Mt Fitzroy

Tierra del Fuego seen across the Magellanic Strait

At the Southern end of the American continent

Overnight stop in the Patagonian desert along the infamous Ruta 40

Nandu sprinting away from us

Establishing the Landrover density in Port Stanley, Falkland Islands

Inter-Island transport with FIGAS

Flightless Steamer Duck having a stroll on the pebbly beach on Sealion Island

A party of King Penguins is out beachcombing

Jackass Penguin

Idyllic beach in the South Atlantic, East Falkland

Camping in a rock bivvy at the Turkey Rocks, West Falkland

Stone runs

Meeting the majestic Blackbrowed Albatross, Saunders Island

Getting close to those Elephant Seals

Keeping an eye on the Turkey Vultures

Camping in Patagonia during my last tramp of my 4 months trip

"All you've got to do is decide to go and the hardest part is over. So go!"

From: Argentina, The Lonely Planet, 2008

The Delta de Tigre

2010-11-12T23:14:00.004+01:00

We took the chance to have a cruise in the delta of the tigre river; there´s basically a lot of little islands, some inhabited but always very green and pleasant.

Transport is provided by water taxis and water buses.

Jetties.

Rusty old ships.

Skyline of BA

Bloke boating in one of the channels

First glimpses of the pampas

2010-11-07T23:45:00.004+01:00

Hi everyone!

We indeed got to South America and managed to go out into the country side for asado (what the South Africans call brai) and a bit of a look around. The pampas is a fairly flat place in general, though slightly undulating in the area North of Buenos Aires.
Here, quite some time was spent grilling the pig, digesting the meal and having a look around the farm. Excellent contrast to the busy city life in Buenos Aires.

Preparing a pig for the asado

The hacienda building, very tranquile.

Cattle in the pampas

Widderfeld Stock - or: escaping the clouds (10. 10. 2010)

2010-10-17T15:13:00.005+02:00

I figured that the inversion was a weather phenomenon best observed from above, therefore headed for a one day hike in the central Alps: 9.5 hrs and 2.2km ascent.

Colourful autumn forest

Above the clouds

Widderfeld Stock (2351m)

Looking North from Bockigrat

Half an hour to the summit

Late flowers

View from Widderfeld Stock with the ridge running toward Graefimattstand

Ridge line towards Graefimattstand

Via Ferrata section

Dodgy downhill section on slate from Schluchberg (2106m)

Moorland, shortly before entering the clouds

Climbing at Melchsee-Frutt (3. Oct 2010)

2010-10-17T14:53:00.003+02:00

A one day climbing trip in the central Swiss Alps.
Team: Andy, Steph, Zby, Des

Zby and Des having a break

Me at the top of a 6a rated route

Adventures on the Big Island (Hawaii), 7th-13th August 2010

2010-09-26T22:15:00.024+02:00

Day 1

I flew from Kauai'i to the Big Island via Maui.
It struck me ominously that I could not spot my backpack being unloaded from the aircraft in Maui. But this was not the time to be worried; it was rather time for a cold beer and a good burger while watching traffic; this is one of my favourite pastimes and I seem never to grow bored of seeing aircraft land, taxi and liftoff. I noted with satisfaction that I spotted the exchange of signals between the ground handling crew and the pilots indicating that handbrakes should be loosened!

Island Air

Upon arrival in Kona I dubiously watched the luggage belt and was not surprised at all when my bag did not turn up.
The ladies at the Island Air counter were already waiting for me and announced that my luggage was left behind by mistake. It would arrive with the next carrier due from Lihue, ETA in a good hour. Fair enough. I made the most out of this and got the handling agent sorting out the car booking business for me. It was to be a rip-off. Either a truly horrendous or just shocking one, but a rip-off nontheless. I figured that pre-arranging a car might have been smart, but there was no other option to see this place as planned and I settled for Thrifty. That thieving Thrifty agent ripped me off some more by suggesting that convenient full-tank option. Blast!
They even upgraded me to a limousine; I had asked for the smallest and cheapest car and walked out with a Chrysler 300C or some similar model. Way too conspicuous; I'd rather enjoyed that old dump I'd driven over in Kaua'i ...
Anyhow, after I had figured out how to operate the parking brake (having resorted to reading the manual!), I showed up at the airline counter again and collected my bag.
Next plan was to get groceries in Kona. Bad plan, couldn't find a food shop in the darn place, just fashion shops and other useless facilities. I resorted to the next best option: drive South.
In some unknown place, might have been Captain Cook (for some reason, there is no such thing as a single place-name sign in that country), I spotted a typical store trading in food, clothing, fishing rods, gardening tools, maps and you have it. Excellent. The choice was limited but sufficient; I even found emergency water treating tablets!

Having attained the first two levels of the Maslov pyramid (immediate food and supplies), I made my way towards a place called Milolili, as small fishing village that sported a camp ground.
A winding road descended several hundred metres down to the coast, crossing extensive lava waste land.
The camp ground turned out to be a gravel parking lot next to a Hawaiian meeting place where a lot of people were gathered for a party. I felt somewhat lost and wondered what to do next when being spotted by an old, energetic lady who invited me to join her grandson's birthday party.
Soon I had a plate full of crab, fish and those leaf covered rolls filled with pork and other stuff and tried to get a conversation going with a bunch of fisherman, all powerfully built Hawaiians with artful tattoos that were similar to Maori ones.
One bloke had traveled some in his younger days and stated:

"Big cities are #&*%ing shit!"

"Yeah, man, that's right! For example: Honolulu's useless!!!", I heartily agreed.

Day 2

I was happy to pack up early next morning; the night had been very stuffy and cars had kept driving past my tarp, me dreaming about being robbed by some Islanders, meeting an end similar to Captain Cook, who had snuffed it a few miles further North.

Climbing Mauna Loa

I arrived at the national park centre of the Hawai'i Volcanoes National Park by mid morning and went to gather information on my intended trail. I learned that the top hut had no water supply as the tank was polluted. That could mean only one thing: haul in water!
I left the car at the end of Mauna Loa Road and started out for the Red Cabin around lunch time. Soon the forest ended and the landscape was dominated by old lava flows with scattered trees and shrubs.

Shrub trying to survive in lava desolation

I found the going rather dull but the thought of reaching Red Cabin and maybe get some views other than an endless hillside in front of me spurred me on.
After 5 hrs the Red Hill Cabin came into sight, and so did the view!

Arriving at the Red Cabin

Mauna Kea, famous for the scientific observatories on its summit.

I enjoyed a well deserved tea with macadamia-chocolate cookies on the front porch and wondered about the musty smell hanging around till I read a note in the hut book:

"Peeing of the front porch will NOT do!!!"

I then spent some time reducing my gear weight for the summit attempt by leaving some food behind which I would pick up on my way back.

The Red Hill Cabin at dusk.

The sun was already fairly low when a bunch of other trampers turned up, them having walked from the Observatory Road to the Summit Cabin yesterday, then did the summit and the hike down to Red Cabin today.
They were fun to talk to and we had a good laugh about porridge.
When it got dark we went up on the hill behind the cabin to see the stars and try spotting the red glow of the Kilauea caldera, which was barely visible due to the current cloud layer.

Day 3

My alarm went off at 5am and after munching some muesli with condensed milk I left the hut and started along the trail towards the summit hut before the sun was above the horizon.

Dawn over the cloud covered Pacific.

Lava, clouds and air

Colourful rocks

Cake dressing?

The landscape and terrain was varying quite a lot; volcanic rocks changed from the jagged and rough A'a to smooth Pāhoehoe to sandy or pebbly stretches of Lapilli, the latter being a form of tephra ranging from 2 - 64mm in diameter and very light.

Approaching the Steaming Cone

Tephra on the Steaming Cone

12'ooo feet

Pohaku Hanalei

Lava shades

A lava creek

Entering the Moku'aweoweo Caldera

It took me 6hrs and 40' to reach the Mauna Loa cabin, a welcome sight to have a cuppa and shelter from the relentless, cold wind. First hut I ever been to having red curtains!
I found a cozy spot in front of the hut and enjoyed a few crackers and macadamia biscuits till a French couple arrived, having walked in from the observatory road.

Cirrus clouds

The Mauna Loa Cabin at 4039m

After a nap behind a rock wall I went in search of the waterhole, some 400m from the hut. It was indeed a tight fit down in a crack in the lava, but I managed to source some water using my cup.
Back in the hut, I had a good chat with the French and did some brainstorming for a new tarp design.

Day 4 - The Summit

I once more got up very early to catch the sunrise, then headed off for the summit.

Mauna Loa Cabin at sunrise

Gap in the caldera, probably originating from the 1975 lava flow

Forward scattering of sunlight by lava surfaces

At the Lua Poholo Crater

Looking towards the summit across the caldera

The climb towards the summit seemed endless as there essentially is no definite summit but a highest point on a gently sloped surface. On the way I spotted a number of seismic observation stations.

Cliff of the caldera, looking towards the 'summit'

Floor of the caldera, covered with lava tiles

At the summit after 2hrs 20' (4169m)

I didn't stay long on the summit; there was still a cold wind blowing and my slight headache suggested that a change in altitude was advisable.

Pāhoehoe on the trail to the Red Cabin

Desolation

Wind, sun and desolated land were getting to me. There were moments when crossing rugged A'a that I felt being observed and pursued by some malevolent entity; stopping did not feeling comfortable and thus I pressed on to reach comforting Red Hill where green grass grew near the water tank.

First glimpse of Red Hill Cabin

Green grass surviving on the dripping tap at Red Hill Cabin

Back at Red Cabin after 8hrs on the trail

View from the Red Hill

After a good rest I took the time to inspect the various inscriptions in the hut, some of which were odd or interesting enough to be captured:

We talking about brush-tailed possums here?!?

Part of the lyrics from Child of the Wind

As the sun went down I climbed the hill behind the cabin to observe the interesting spectacle of a shadow cast by the mountain on the horizon in the East. I suppose that the orange glow on the horizon opposite of the sun at sun down is an effect of orange-red light of the sundown being scattered by larger particles (Mie scattering) on the horizon. Therefore, shadow casting of a big mountain over large distances seems feasible.
Later on I watched the glow of the Kilauea Caldera 1800m below my current position.

Mauna Loa casts a shadow in the orange scattered light on the horizon opposite of the sun

Sunset in the West

Kilauea Caldera (middle) glowing in the evening

Day 4

I hiked out next morning, covering the distance to my duly waiting car in 2.5hrs.
Seeing some vegetation again seemed extraordinarily.

Braided lava.

I found a little note squeezed under one of my windscreen wipers, saying that the road was now closed due to fire risk, but that I should just close the gate behind me but not lock it. Fair enough.
Down at the gate I figured that it was not only already closed but also locked!
I talked to a dude just finishing a jog and he called the park headquarters, arranging for a ranger to drive out and open that gate. In the meantime, we had a good yarn and I learned that this bloke was writing speeches for Abercrombie, currently running for governor.
When the ranger arrived, we figured out that he didn't hold the right keys! We had a good laugh about it and joked and chatted around some more till some guys from the maintenance crew turned up with the correct key.

Pu'o O'o

I then proceeded to the park HQ where I was 15' late for my 12'o clock appointment with Daniel, but there he was, and after having talked to a ranger and receiving 'backcountry-portable toilets', "Gotta give you those ...", he smirked, we headed out for the next adventure: visiting the Pu'o O'o crater.
We parked our cars at the start of the Napau Trail and hiked towards the Napau Crater Campsite.

Berries on some hardy shrub

Ferns surviving in the lava wasteland

Fern thickness close to Napau Crater campsite

We set up camp in a little clearing barely big enough to hold the tarp, then set out along a path that led across Napau Crater, choosing to ignore the 'Trail Closed' signs.

Interesting volcanic structure, similar to a sponge but quite fragile

Meterosideros shrub, Pu'u O'o cone visible on the horizon

Looking towards Pu'u O'o

Last sunlight illuminating a dead forest

A fair warning

Dani observing Pu'u O'o. Is there something to be seen up there?!?

Do NOT try to go here ...

... nor should you be here!

After some hardships, which I shall not describe here, we were back at camp.

Day 5 - Lava and Sea

We hiked out next morning and once more parted. After a well-deserved wash at Namakanipaio camp (showers closed, but the basin in the toilet did the trick) I set up my tarp at Kulanaokuaiki camp site, then went exploring along the crater rim track, where I got some views of steam rising from the Halema'uma'u crater.

Halema'uma'u crater in the Kilauea Caldera. Apparently, you shouldn't be here either ...

Meterosideros flowers

I then drove down to the coast near Kalapana, parked the car and hiked along the coast towards the point where the lava meets the sea, indicated by the big plume rising into the sky.

The coast

Braided lava

Steam rising a few hundred metres from our position

Forces of Nature

I arrived at some point where the cliff ended and a beach was covered in seemingly fresh lava. There was also a couple from Israel hanging around, waiting for someone who would know if going on was safe. I joined their waiting activity and did a little excursion into the forest behind us, finding burnt coconuts and a wave of heat emitted from the lava flow.
Eventually, a guide with some tourists arrived and walked out into the still warm lava!
We figured that it was probably safe to tail along and thus we arrived at the point where the lava currently hit the sea!
The sight was beyond anything I had ever seen: white glowing rock was dripping into the sea, chunks of lava fell into the water, exploding and sending bits of still glowing rock floating on the sea surface till the next wave rushed up and all sight was lost due to strong vapour building instantly, illuminated by a reddish glow.

Lava exploding on contact with water

Another explosion

Lava dripping into the sea with chunks from the last explosion still afloat

Twilight at the lava flow

Day 5 - Back to Honolulu

Drying and sorting out gear before leaving for Kona via the Saddle Road.

Adventures on Kauai 31st July - 7th August 2010

2010-09-18T23:25:00.025+02:00

Koke'e State Park

Day 1

I flew from Honolulu to Lihue on Kauai. Here I rented a bomb of a car and made my way westwards to Koke'e State Park.

Waimea Canyon: the Grand Canyon of the Pacific.

To my surprise, Dani had made it up to here as well (we were supposed to meet at the airport, but my flight had been delayed by 4 hrs).
The air temperature was quite lower than at sea level and there was quite often a drizzle and a smell that reminded me of the New Zealand Northland.

Gear preps

The night turned out somewhat bizarre: there was a rowdy party going on nearby, Dani had gone for a stroll (of course without a torch) and just when I was about to fall asleep, a girl from Quebec asked me to stay in my tarp because she was afraid of the rowdies "I think they killed a rooster!'

Day 2

We combined the Nu'alolo trail with Nu'alolo Cliff trail and Awa'awapuhi trail to form a big loop. The trail commenced in lush rain forest and descended through a mesic zone till the semi-arid cliffs were reached. Here we stood a good 600m above the sea, the crumbly walls offering no way of descending to the shore of the famous Na Pali coast.
In the valleys below, vegetation covered the bottom while white tropic birds soared along the sheers walls.

Clearing in the rain forest.

Looking towards the cliff, mesic-semiarid zone.

Vegetation at the cliff edge

Valley of the Na Pali Coast

Day 3

The day seemed pretty fine when I got up; I therefore decided to take my car up to the lookout and get a glimpse of the Kalalau Valley. Indeed, for once the coast was clear of the usual fog and drizzle!

The Kalalau Valley as seen from the lookout.

I then packed my gear, left the car at a trailhead and started with the Halemanu-Koke'e trail, which took me eventually via Black Pipe trail to the Waimea Canyon.

Fruit of a broadleaf along the way.

Leaves of a tree common in the mesic to semiarid zones.

I at the edge of Waipo'o Falls.

Some type of freshwater crayfish trying to look frightening at Waipo'o Falls.

From here I followed the Canyon trail, which offered grand views of the landscape and then continued on the no longer maintained Ditch trail. This proved to be some adventure, as largely unmarked the lack of topographic maps became soon apparent.
I once strayed of the beaten path, just to find me on some pasture and scarying away a couple of goats. A fine spot for a lunch break before trying to find the trail again.
As I continued I got into more arid parts where the erosion had claimed the original path. I found myself crawling an all fours up some dusty crumbly hillside; luckily there were some Hawai'ian trail markers, i.e. parts of gaily coloured cloth strips tied to roots and branches.

Some type of peppermint like shrub, aromatic but thorny!

Hawai'ian trail markings along the Ditch trail.

Arid place near the cliff edge along the unmaintained Ditch trail.

Eroded hillside and high waterfall emerging from the wet highlands.

Sign near a lookout on an exposed ridge.

Cascade at the edge of the Alaka'i Swamp.

'Ohi'a lehua (Metrosideros polymorpha) - a flowering tree very similar to Pohutukawa (Metrosideros excelsa) found in NZ.

Banana Passion fruit found along the trail, tasting nicely refreshing.

Kawaikinana Stream

I arrived at Sugi Grove Camp in the later afternoon and looked around for a passable campsite.
There was only one likely spot, which was pretty dry, all the rest was wet and rooty.
Still, I was not entirely satisfied with the camp. Sometimes you can't put your finger on it, but you just know something's fishy alright.

My camp at Sugi Grove

The closeness to the Alaka'i swamp meant that there was a nearly constant drizzle and I had to retire into the tent for tea. As I set up my sleeping bag, I noticed there was a funny smell hanging around one particular edge of the tent; there was an ominously wet looking spot on the ground, reeking like a pig farm. I concluded that some feral pig had relieved itself just right there. Bugger that! After having sworn my head off, just for my own pleasure as there was no one else listing to me expressing my discomfort, I pushed some dry dirt over the spot; that seemed to work.
There was quite some precipitation all night.

Day 4

I woke early in the morning, finding that I was lying in a puddle about a deep as my matress was thick.

"*#&^ that!!!!! God dammit!!!!"

As so often happens under adverse conditions, my brain had already made the connection that the swine pee must have washed into the general mixture of water and dirt. Arrrhhh!

I got up and dragged my bedding out of the tarp and hung it in the nearby lunch shelter. Luckily, only the outside of the sleeping bag was wet at the bottom. The matress looked like having lain in a pigpen for a week!
Back at the tarp I tried to sweep the water out; it was here that I discovered the special properties of Sugi Grove ground: the water did not penetrate the ground at all but was just sitting there!
I tried to dig some drainage, but the ground was full of roots and the channels kept blocking up; that water was just behaving very sluggish and the dust I threw up while digging furiously settled on the water and kept floating.
Nasty, nasty!

"Sugi Grove?!? Sucking Grove would be more apt a name!!!"

In any case, I had a plan for the day: visiting the Alaka'i swamp. I postponed any decision what I might do when being back at camp and set off upstream along the Kawaikoi Stream. It was an exellent stroll, there was some sunshine and the sweet smell of the flowering ginger hung in the air.

Kawaikoi Stream

A first excitement was provided by the river crossing. I balanced over some of the most slippery rocks I had ever tried to stand on while the current was surprisingly strong.
Having accomplished the crossing I followed the Pihea trail uphill to the trail junction, where I turned eastward towards the Kilohana lookout, a good 2 miles with some up and downs.

Lichen hung trees on the Pihea trail.

I on the Alaka'i Swamp trail with some tree fern.

The swamp was a misty, drizzly, cold and windy place. I kept moving to keep warm and marvelled at the unique vegetation up here.
At some point I rounded up a group of nene, they seemed surprised to see me and flew off into the mist after complaining loudly.

Dodgy boardwalk and dwarf vegetation in the Alaka'i Swamp.

Shrub in the swamp.

Another Metrosideros flower.

Flock of Nene in the Alaka'i Swamp - Hawaii's state birds

The Kilohana Lookout vista was fairly limited on this day, I suppose about 10 metres would be a good mean visibility. I spent some minutes locating a geocache, then headed back along the Alaka'i Swamp trail till I reached the Alaka'i Picnic Area where I had a latish snack or early lunch.

Leaving the swamp behind.

The WX was much nicer here, but I was wet to the bones after that swamp and decided that I'd had it with rain for a while. Back in the camp I packed all the gear (the ground under the tarp was as wet as in the morning), then tramped back along the Mohihi Camp road for 1.5 hrs till I reached my car. Along the way I had a good yarn with some elderly ladies.
I chucked all the wet gear and boots (stink!) into the car and was off to the beach in Polihale State Park!

Polihale State Park

My camp on the beach.

Drying and sorting gear.

Excellent drying conditions and such an irradiance that I was happy to stay in the shade of a big, thorny Kiawe tree.
Marvelous having a tea with cookies and fresh bananas instead of freezing your butt off in a swamp without a view or sleeping in a stinking puddle!

Polihale Beach.

Looking toward Makaha Point.

Day 5

Rooster visiting my 'water hole'.

Next day I drove to Ha'ena Beach, stopping in Lihue on the way to sort out some nasty credit card business which prevented me from getting cash out of the ATM!

The Kalalau Trail

Camp at Ha'ena Beach

Day 6

Next morning I tramped off towards the famous Kalalau Valley, leaving early in the morning to avoid the day hikers visiting Hanakapi'ai Beach.

Trail info post

Lush forest along the Coast en route to Hanakapi'ai.

Orchid type of plant.

Surf at Hanakapi'ai Beach.

At Hanakapi'ai Beach during a short shower.

Hanakapi'ai Valley.

Ho'olulu Valley

Coast line looking back to Ke'e Beach.

'The Misty Mountains'

Some extreme type of flax like plant.

Welcome stream for a bit of a cool down.

Kalalau Valley lies beyond the flat cliff section.

Here we are, but the camp is another good mile!

At the camp after a 6hr tramp in tropical conditions.

Another perspective

Juicy passion fruit

Cheeky bird (Hwa Mei?)

The acclaimed Flute Cliffs above the camp site.

Brown or Black Noddy (Anous minutus or stolidus)

Huge toad close to the water hole of the camp.

That night I had a decidedly unpleasant contact with an unknown creature. All I know is that I rolled over and came to lie on some animal which bit me in my upper arm. It hurt devilishly!
I grabbed by torch and look around. Nothing. There were two punctures on my arm though, oozing some blood!
The pain was amazingly persistent and strong; it easily kept me awake for a while and I took the time to note down the facts, taking a pulse once in a while but there was nothing out of the order there. Finally, content that I would most likely wake up in the morning, I tried to fall asleep, ignoring the stinging pain.
Most likely possibility seems a spider bite.

Day 7

Looking back towards the Flute Cliffs.

Some more 'flax' along the way

The ever-present mist moves in again.

Rain forest vegetation along the trail.

I spent another night at Ha'ena Beach, then it was time to return the car and catch a flight to the Big Island for more adventures!

Kandersteg - Muerren Tramp 10-12th July 2010

2010-09-18T17:59:00.002+02:00

Day 1

The first day of our trip started with a via ferrata near Kandersteg:

Andreas on the first ladder of many more to come ...

On the flying fox.

Quite a good adventure, even if one is doing it for the third time already ;-)
The via ferrata was followed by a tramp towards Oeschinensee, very sweaty ascent due to the high humidity.

Alpine Choughs trying to balance on their perches in gusty wind.

The Oeschinensee with an approaching storm.

Soon after reaching the Oeschinensee, some drops started to fall and quickly a full thunderstorm developed. We kept however tramping on till we reached the small glacial lake we had targeted as the first camp site.

Camp at the nameless glacial lake, glacier tongue of the Bluemlisalp Glacier is visible in the background.

Some more rain set in after the tarp was set up and we were soon to discover that part of the tarp got flooded. As the rain ceased we swarmed out and enthusiastically started digging a ditch to reclaim our habitable space.
There was some more rain during the night, which was however no further bother and the next day dawned quite bright.

Day 2

Breakfast and trip planning on day 2.

Some good rock and scree scrambling brought us back to the track and via the standard mountain path up to our first pass: Hohtuerli (2778m).
From there we descended and then traversed toward the Gamchi Glacier, which was mostly a rocky wasteland.

Glacier mouth.

Looking out of the glacier mouth.

Traversing towards Sefinenfurggen.

Sefinenfurggen Pass (2612m).

The daily weather pattern brought again some afternoon showers and George got a full blast as he lagged a bit behind, however, we had already set up the tarp by the time the rain started and soon we had a cosy teatime while more showers moved in.

Tea and Birthday cake in Camp 2.

Splendidly wild scenery beyond the tarp entrance.

Salamandra atra - they just love the rain!

There was even sunshine after rain, and we figured out that the mountains visible from camp 2 were the famous Eiger, Moench and Jungfrau!

Camp 2 with Eiger, Moench and Jungfrau in the background.

Dinner preparations.

Last light of the day on the snowy peaks.

Tranquility.

Day 3

We pored over the map after breaky and figured that we might tramp up to Schilthorn, which we eventually did. Sadly enough, George had to leave earlier, but making it possible for us to hand over the via ferrata gear and other surplus stuff.
In this manner, we ascended quickly towards Rote Haerd. On route I met an elderly Englishman and we had a good yarn. In fact, I was very impressed by his attitude and fitness and we consequently shared the rest of the birthday cake with him!

Between Rote Haerd and Schilthorn.

Approaching the Schilthorn.

Descending towards Stechelberg.

Marcel at a waterfall.

The final descent proved to be very long and exceedingly hot in the lower parts. We were extremely glad to reach the end and stick our feet into a blessfully cold pond!

Climb? Tramp SSW! (12-13 June 2010)

2010-06-13T19:52:00.013+02:00

Marcel and myself had come up with the idea of climbing the usual ridge line on the Pilatus again. However, when we met in Lucerne, the weather was rather overcast and by the time we arrived in Alpnachstad it started to drizzle. Bad conditions for a climb on limestone.
We therefore adapted our plans and started to tramp uphill; after all we had all the gear needed to camp out.
On the way up we met a guy from Singapore and were pleased to hear that he had decided to hike up to Pilatus despite the short time frame he stayed in Switzerland.

Lee Kun Liang and me at the half-way point.

Cobweb with water droplets on the sign post.

Salamandra atra

We came across a large number of Alpine Salamanders (Salamandra atra) along the way, they obviously liked the moist conditions. Just when editing this blog entry, I figured out that there is a website to log salamander sightings; here's my entry http://alpensalamander.eu/blog/Salamander_Report4/map_function_foto10.php?11&46.95448061777255&8.284378051757812&4&

We covered the 1600 metres ascent to the summit of Pilatus in a good 3hrs under constant drizzle, then decided to continue along the ridge line.
Soon after the weather improved; the rain stopped and gradually the mist started to lift.

Ridge line after the Tomlishorn.

Looking down from the ridge.

Herd of ibex (Capra ibex) blocking the path.

Marcel disappearing in the mist.

Unexpectedly wild landscape.

Approaching a snow traverse in the gully ahead.

Marcel tackling a short via ferrata passage.

Rock Ptarmigans (Lagopus muta)

Only a good hour to Tripoli(s)?

Looking down on Oberwald

After descending from Widderfeld, we came across a moor like landscape, reminding us of Scotland. Here, we had a short break, then decided to head further on:
"Bearing South-South-West!"

Mountain ranges towards SSW

Looking back towards Pilatus with Rigi on the horizon.

Mittagguepfi (1916m asl)

Looking West from the Mittagguepfi. This feels like the Northern edge of the Alps!

From Mittagguepfi we followed a trail with some cables, leading us to Tripoli hut. There, we found a bunch of people working around the hut and also yummo cake and coffee, which were offered to us, followed by some sausage we had to sample as well!
Superbe break!

Tripoli Hut.

From Tripoli, we tramped up to Staefeliflue (1922m asl), where we located a geocache, then we descended in search of a passable camp site.

Descending from Staefeliflue.

Schimbrig 1815m asl

By now we had walked off our map sheet and were navigating on sight. At the end, we found a fair camp site at the edge of a forest with lots of fire wood and two rivulets close by.

Total ascent of the day: 2.219km

Total descent: 1655m

Profile of day 1.

We were happy to setup camp, light a fire, prepare tea and once more marvel about today's unexpected adventures.

There was a bit of rain during the night, quite pleasant.

By the morning, Marcel had figured out our position using his iPhone: we were in the Entlebuch, a part of Switzerland being notoriously wet!
Indeed so. There were quite a lot of slugs around, appearing in the most irksome manner. Rather disgusting little critters.

Slug on my platypus bottle.

Little slug sliming along on my platypus mouth piece.
Luckily, I was not that thirsty during the night!

Big mother of a slug with a lot of slime on Marcels tramping jacket.

Cooking tea in the morning.

Trail planning proved difficult without a topomap and we to used Google maps on the iPhone. We resolved to tramp to Glaubenberg, another pass we knew from previous adventures (igloo building a few years back). However, the path up there was mainly along the road, which did not cheers us up very much at all. In any case, we made it right for lunch!

Traveling upstream, bearing SSW.

Misty coniferous forest near the pass.

Profile of day 2.

Our 2 day tramp on Google Earth.

Excellent adventure!
A post trip map study shows however that there would have been a lot of good trails for the second day, heading SW!
We shall return for more adventures!

Federispitz Tramp (5-6 June 2010)

2010-06-13T19:27:00.007+02:00

We started as a team of 6 from Schaenis (418m asl) and tramped up to Federispitz (1865m asl).
It provided an excellent view over the low lands on one side and glimpses of the higher mountains of the Alps.

Traverse during the ascent.

Start of the ridge line towards the summit.

Zby approaching the ridge.

The lowlands (looking towards Zurich)

The team on the ridge.

Desiree makes a dash for the summit

Zby on the ridge with the Glarner Alps in the background.

Looking towards the Mattstock.

Desiree and me on the summit.

Looking eastwards with the Walensee at the bottom of the valley.

Enjoying the view over Walensee.

After a team split, Desiree, Zbynek, Andreas and myself continued along some rather rarely traveled route towards Untere Chaesere where we spotted a pretty good bivvy ground, although heavily populated by slugs! It was the first time Desiree and Zby used their new tarp, an almost identical twin of mine, just a bit lighter in colour.

Zby cooling down ...

Tarping ...

Preparing dinner.

Our camp in the morning.

Munt Baselgia - 24.05.2010

2010-05-24T21:33:00.005+02:00

Monday was a day off, but after yesterday's biking trip I figured that my backside needed a wee bit of a rest!
In preparation for the upcoming flight campaign in the Swiss national park, I decided to head East and check out the mountains around there.
I identified a suitable trail close to Zernez, leading up to Munt Baselgia. From there, a pass could be gained, eventually allowing a circuit. However, that was a matter of the snow level and conditions.
I started tramping uphill and could somewhat feel yesterday's biking. The tree line coincided pretty much with the snow line, typical snow conditions for late spring with big ice crystals that tend to be a bit runny. I often sank in up to my knees and progress was considerably slow. Still, I wanted to get at least to Munt Baselgia, just pure stubborness I figure.
Having arrived there, I had a short break with some munchies, then decided that it was impossible to get savely and in time over the pass; snowshoes would have been good as well as having an earlier start. I therefore headed back down again, cursing the snow that had seemingly lost all weight bearing properties!

Pasque Flower (Pulsatilla)

Me at Munt Baselgia (2682m asl)

View towards Val Mustair

Me with the Pass towards Macun in the background.

The Engadin Valley running SW, with Zernez at the bottom.

Bike and Cache Trip - 23.05.2010

2010-05-24T21:21:00.003+02:00

I took the chance of having no particular plans this weekend to go for a mountain bike trip with some caches along the way.
First, I headed North, mainly following the Limmat towards the confluence with the Aare, from there Southward along the Reuss, then crossing two hills to get back to Zurich and enjoy a snag at the lake.
Having arrived home I checked the odometer: 86km and 920m ascent. Not bad really, but my backside was somewhat tender towards the end ;-)

At the Aare.

Slow Worm (Anguis fragilis)

At the Reuss.

Lake of Zurich.

Rwenzori (Christmas 2009)

2010-04-05T13:13:00.021+02:00

The Jungle
----------

Day 1 of our excursion into the famous Rwenzori Mountains, situated where Uganda borders with Congo, began in the run-down town of Kasese, more precisely in the breakfast room of the Hotel Margeritha. My guidebook had been correct in stating that the best days of this establishment had long gone by and the alluded dining hall permeated a blandness and glumness that could not be lifted by the tasteless Christmas decoration, which had been erratically scattered throughout the room.
Mathias and myself were already anticipating a further mystifying incident, which, according to our travel plan, was to happen this very morning:

" ... our baggage, which will be left in the hotel, will be countersigned for in total ...".

We hauled our gear bags into the lobby and lingered around; soon the great moment of the countersigning of all baggage would come about! Nothing of the sort happened, our luggage was unceremoniously and separately dragged from the hall, destined to vanish in a dusty boiler room, as we found out upon return.

Our bus took us within one hour to Ibanda, characterised by ramshackle brick and clay buildings lining the dirt track amidst banana and coffee plantations. We stopped on the premises of the Rwenzori Mountaineering Services (RMS) and were ushered into a room with an enormous couch facing a large wooden board onto which the Central Trail has been carved and colour painted. A guy explained us the trail, pointing out the various sections of mud:

'And from John Matte, you will come into the Lower Bigo Bog, very muddy, you will have to hop from tussock to tussock', I sniggered appreciatively, ', then you climb up to Upper Bigo Bog, for more mud. After that you sidle along lake Bujuku, a very muddy section, to reach Bujuku Hut!'

The chief guide filling us in.

Details of the trail.

We then supervised the weighing of the bags. We had already weighed the luggage in the hotel, both Mathias's and my bags were between 8-9 kg, however, not very surprising, the RMS scale was somewhat biased, showing a fat 12 kg! Twelve kilos was a magic number, as a porter would not take more than that. Having more gear would necessitate another porter.

The weighing of the bags.

Beyond the hedge separating the RMS grounds from the road a large number of people hung about, eagerly observing the proceedings. We later figured out that all these guys were members of the RMS, with their names written down on a long list. When a new safari starts, the RMS executives call out the names on the list and whoever happens to be there, gets the job. It is thus, that the potential porters hike every morning to the RMS (which may take them over an hour), to hang about all day waiting for the chance of getting a job. If so, they start immediately without bothering to return home, i.e. they are always prepared to leave for a good week without prior notice!

We however missed this porter selection procedure involving a lot of shouting, as we had already proceeded up the valley towards the park entrance. At first, plantations surrounded us, changing gradually into tropical forest. It was very humid, warm and mostly overcast. After the park entrance, we got into primeval tropical forest, wild banana trees of magnificent green and huge tree ferns were among the many plant species that grew along the banks of the rushing Mbuku river. The air was full of the chirping of the cicadas and the musty smell of decaying plant materials, which we so readily identify as the odour of the tropics.

Wild banana tree.

Tropical forest with tree ferns.

The trail led gently but steadily uphill till we crossed a stream and reached a lunch spot beyond. From thereon, the path was steep and the warmness of the air made me even take of my gaiters. I was still feeling very hot, but watching my mates toiling along in their long pants and the porters in their gum boots, I considered myself to be well off.

We topped out onto a forested ridge that allowed some views over the deep V-shaped valley with the Mbuku flowing at the bottom and slopes dominated by bracken glades opposite of us. The potential peaks were hidden in the low clouds. The vegetation reminded me of New Zealand's subtropical forests, and indeed, even here grew a member of the podocarpus family: Podocarpus latifolia.
While following the ridge, we heard the crashing of branches ahead and I spotted something dark leaping onto the lower boughs of a tree. With our binoculars we could easily make out the monkey sitting among the foliage. It sported a long tail, was rather black in colour apart from the face, which had a sliver hue. The mountain guides declared it to be a Black Monkey, but my research suggests that it was a Blue Monkey (Cercopithecus mitis stuhlmanni).

Blue Monkey.

We reached Nyabitaba hut in the later afternoon and soon a drizzle developed, while the surrounding hills were hidden in the mist.

Rwenzori forest in the mist.

This would have been the right time to have a cuppa and a biscuit, but as we were depending on porters and cooks, neither was available. At last, the porters started to trickle into camp, along with another group of tourists from Austria. It seemed a cheerful lot, I was however surprised and somewhat taken aback by the boxes full of beer cans, they drew from the depths of the bags the porters had hauled up. I deem it morally wrong to have people carry alcoholic drinks up a mountain. It's a luxury good, if someone wants it, they should pack it in themselves. These dudes even complained that they had to pay more porters because they exceeded the 12kg limit by far; no wonder given the number Castle and Heineken cans!

Monstrous worm.

Dinner consisted of rice with a stew based on mushy peas. At seven thirty it began to darken rapidly, as always when being close to the equator. We soon retired, slipping into our sleeping bags, but neither Mathias nor I could fall asleep. The rain had almost ceased but single drops continued to fall onto the corrugated roof in a most annoying fashion. We were just getting a bit drowsy, when there was a rustling from the direction of our packs. Mathias lit up his torch, but could see nothing. I was now fully awake as well, straining to hear what was going on. There it was again, some scratching and nibbling, which reminded me vividly of similar sounds I had heard when mice and rats were about! Mathias got up and inspected his backpack; a zip was not properly closed. He pulled out a packet of crackers and swore under his breath: "Stinking, filthy vermin! Dammit!". Then he whispered furiously: "Been shitting over my biscuits!"
I remembered that my packliner was not properly closed, but felt too lazy to get up and check. Instead, I lay back again, but kept listening intently. There it was again! Grunting, I wriggled out of my sleeping bag, lit the head torch, approached my bag and peered into it; there was a mouse scuttling about, looking for a hiding place among my stuff bags. Determined I started grabbing at it through the fabric of the packliner. The mouse tried to scamper, but had nowhere to run. I caught it and, feeling its head between my fingers, gave it a squeeze till I could feel the skull break. There was silence and I was letting out a long breath, noting with astonishment that I had a quickened heart beat and felt a bit shaken. I picked the mouse by the tail, pulled it out and laid it on the floor, then used some toilet paper to wipe the blood from the packliner. As I went back to bed, I muttered: "That's a kill!"

Dead mouse.

After that nightly small game hunt, my nerves were still tingling and sleep did not come easily. At least I felt happy that the mouse was removed and my bag securely closed. A horrible thought struck me, what if there was a second mouse in my bag and I just had locked it in?!? Don't be stupid, I told myself, the chances for that are really minimal. 'Ahh, but not entirely impossible', said a little voice in my head. Just then I heard some more scuttling, but this time it seemed to come from the ceiling, followed by some nibbling like a rodent gnawing its way through solid wood, resonating from the chewing action. There was a prompt reaction from Mathias; a soft cursing followed by a searching sweep of the torch, illuminating the underside of the bunk above him. Nothing was to be seen. The light went off, a few seconds passed, then the gnawing resumed. In the dim light I could see Mathias's fist shoot up to pound the bunk above. Silence fell. For a while the only thing we could hear was the snoring of the Austrians through the thin wall the split the hut into two compartments. The mouse took up its work with new fervour, there was also a faint, many voiced squeaking, hinting towards a nest full of young mice, who lodged in the mattress above Mathias. The rodent was apparently expanding its living and breeding quarters. There was more cursing when some debris caused by the continued wood work dropped onto Mathias head. At least, one could only hope it had been wood chips! This was answered by severe pounding of the upper bunk, causing the mouse to flee from the mattress and shoot up a ladder a few inches in front of my nose, disappearing into the darkness above. There was a quiet period after that and I dropped into a flat sleep from which I awoke a few more times, as the mouse was returning to its nest, at least once racing over Mathias sleeping bag, promptly causing more swearing and furious walloping up the bunk above.
"Gosh!", I uttered next morning, "I'm glad that night is over!"

Into the Heather Zone
---------------------
Our cooks impressed us this morning by turning up with a bowl of hot water to wash ourselves before breakfast; it was however a unique, probably random event, which was not to be repeated during the trip. Breakfast comprised tea, omelette and banana.
The trail followed the ridge for a short while, then dropped into the valley to our right side. It was a slightly slippery trail through a bracken field. On some muddy, slimy patch I slipped and instinctively held out my left arm behind me to stop the fall. The force on my wrist was surprising and I could feel a distinct 'pop'. Glancing down, I noticed that my ganglion, which had bothered me for some months was gone! It had obviously popped open and the fluid spilled into the surrounding tissue. It did not hurt at all, nor did it feel particularly numb, in fact, it seemed quite functional. I was not sure whether this was good or bad, after all, I had had it checked by a doctor before and was told that an operation would be in order, should it bother me too much. The only sensible thing to do was to tramp on and monitor the development of the wrist over the next days.

En route towards the confluence of Mbuku and Bujuku.

Confluence of Mbuku and Bujuku.

The trail was more demanding than on day one, somewhat muddier, with slippery logs and boulders, rendering it generally more interesting.

Porters .

We crossed the bamboo zone, but saw only a few specimen; according to the guides they were to be more abundant in the valley that would take us back to Ibanda at the end of the trip. I personally found the subsequent heather zone far more interesting. The European variation of the heather (Calluna vulgaris) reaches a height of around 15cm in the Alps and up to half a metre e.g. on the West coast of Scotland. In the Ruwenzori, the Erica arborea reaches 7m and is generally thickly hung with greenish to grayish lichen.

Giant Heather.

Porters on the slippery logs.

I reached to Bujuku stream after an extremely slippery section of logs that formed a path suspended half a metre above the forest ground. Here I stood at the bank and admired the scene; the brown Bujuku leaping and gurgling swiftly in its rocky bed, the thick forest, mostly heather, the long lichen swaying in the wind, all features fading into greyness in the mist that seemed to hang eternally in these ranges.

Lichen and mosses at the Bujuku.

Everlasting flower (Helichrysum formosissisimum)

Forest at the Bujuku.

Today's goal was John Matte hut, situated in a grassy glade above the Bujuku, surrounded by heather trees and some of the first Lobelias and Groundsels. We enjoyed a cuppa tea in the hut and gleefully noted the start of the afternoon rain; the Austrians were still on the trail.
"Maybe the rain intensifies!", I remarked hopefully, while taking a sip of the brew.

Porters arriving at John Matte.

When the Austrians finally turned up, I noticed with satisfaction that some of them were extremely dirty. I watched with fascination as one of the dudes was utilising liberal amounts of toilet paper to clean his gum boots and trousers!

"Will you look at this! How useless is that?!?", I mouthed to Mathias.

The weather cleared up in the evening, it really seemed to be a pattern of the Rwenzori microclimate. Upstream we got some first glimpses of the snow caped Margherita.
Our cooks were forced to prepare tea and dinner hunched under the front porch, as the Austrian porters and cooks occupied the other buildings. It was a strange sight, observing our chief cook and tour leader Joel, clad in an old mountaineering jacket and gum boots, sitting close to the gas stove, handling the pots with his pinkish mountaineering gloves, which he was invariably wearing all day long. Was this the same guy who had picked us up from the airport, sporting elegant black loafers and cream coloured shirt and trousers?

Joel, sporting his pink gloves.

Porters digging into their usual diet of Kasawa.

The Austrians once more showed their tactlessness by crushing beer cans on the front porch, just over the heads of our cooking team.
We got into bed soon after dinner, there was nothing else to do, but the Austrians had another raucous evening, which culminated in their dismantling of the table. It appeared that one bloke stood onto the table top when trying to get up to his bunk, it tipped to the side (it was apparently not nailed to the legs) and crashed to the floor along with all the bottles and other gear that had been on it!
I tried to fall asleep but was plagued by nasty imaginations about my ganglion, making me feel queasy. Bother!

Through the Bigo Bogs
---------------------
I awoke with a headache and consequently took an aspirin. We continued our journey, first down to the Bujuku, then through a first section of bog, bringing us to a makeshift bridge which was quite interesting to cross. It consisted of heather twigs, nailed together and providing a rather fragile looking structure.

Me crossing an interesting bridge.

Beyond stretched the Lower Bigo Bog, made passable by a board walk. Bigo is taken from the local language, it apparently means 'to fall in', thus, this was the 'Fall in' Bog. Scattered across the swamp were Lobelias and towards the slopes some giant groundsels.

Lobelias.

Lower Bigo Bog was followed by a steep climb towards Upper Bigo Bog. I felt fairly crap, the headache had worsened despite the aspirin and frequent sips from my Platypus.

Tramping towards Upper Bigo Bog.

There was no board walk in the upper bog and we learned a new form of travel: tussock hopping!

Tussock hopping.

Mathias and Kule at the end of Upper Bigo Bog.

Towards Lake Bujuku.

Besides tussock there were shrubs of Everlasting Flowers and more Lobelias. Upper Bigo Bog filled the bottom of a U-shaped valley, the flanks were partly bare, partly covered in thick orange moss. The valley ended in a slope thickly covered by groundsels, leading up towards Lake Bujuku.

Slope near Lake Bujuku, dominated by groundsels and everlasting flowers (Helichrysum stuhlmannii).

I tried to focus on breathing and moving regularly, the pressure on my head was getting worse. Towards the end of the climb I spotted some animal scuttling across the path; similar to a stoat in size and shape, of blackish colour. The guides were of the opinion that it had been a Rock Hyrax, but that that was of course an uneducated guess: the are no sleek hyraxes with tails!
I found the rest of the team at the end of the slope, sat down on a rock, head swimming, and forced myself to eat some of the lunch, consisting of an omelette and a banana. It was hard work, but seemed to reduce my headache in the following section, which sported some of the best mud yet. We were sidling along Lake Bujuku, steep cliffs rising on our side, leaving a strip of hillside swamp that lead towards Bujuku hut. At the end of the lake, a gently rising slope , dotted with groundsels, eventually brought us to the hut.

Lobelia.

Lake Bujuku.

The trail had been fairly swampy, judging from the amount of brown water I managed to squeeze out of my socks.
There was also a group of Japanese occupying a few bunks in the hut, they had just come down from Margherita. I was just concentrating on tea and freshly cut pineapple, when I noticed that the Japanese were cleaning the floor, looked like some spilled soup to me.

"Uh, what's up?", I enquired from my mates.
'One of them just threw up!'

We then took the chance to sit outdoors, listening to the music that played from a transistor radio the porters had tuned to a local station and watching the mice that were plentiful around the hut and quite unafraid of humans.

Kasawa preparation at Bujuku hut.

Hypoxia
--------

I felt plagued by another nasty headache, despite having sipped from my Platypus during the night. It was a rather sunny day and we set out towards Scott Elliot pass by tramping through another tiring Bigo Bog section.

Ascent to Scott Elliot pass.

I was clearly not at my best today and jumping from tussock to tussock with my head being pierced by stabs of pain was not helping to improve my condition. I tried to drink a lot of water but the pain remained and was joined by a notable dizziness, which manifested in my field of vision being somewhat restricted and the landscape sampled at a low frame rate when I turned by head to fast. By the means of a metal ladder we got to a view point and I felt pretty stuffed, happy to sit down on a rock, force down a muesli bar and keep breathing.

Break at the view point with Bukjuku hut visible in the valley below.

It was here that the paths split, Mathias tramped on towards Kitandara, led by Lazarus, while the rest of us continued uphill. I had meant to decide if I wanted to go up or rather join the tramping option, but was thrown by the sudden parting of the ways. In any case, we kept ascending, now moving through shrubbery dominated by everlasting flowers, giving the mountain a greenish-whitish tinge.

Ascent to Elena through everlasting flower shrubbery.

Justus on the trail to Elena.

Once more, I concentrated on moving steadily and in this manner, after scrambling over some glacier polished rock sections, reached at last the hut.

Elena Hut.

It was good to sit down in the sun and take in the surroundings, although I was not much in the condition to fully savor the cliffs above us with a glacier tongue extending towards our current position. As I looked up, it was still 600m to the summit, I just couldn't imagine doing any cramponing and rope work at all. My head was swimming and felt oddly wooly.
After a cupa and about one biscuit, which I nibble very slowly because of a developing nausea. I then took out my sleeping bag and lay down, just to see whether things were about to change. After half an hour I decided it was no good and that I had to descend while I still could. The symptoms were all pointing towards a brain oedema and I had no inclination to become a liability for the rest of the group. Having resolved to retreat, I talked to the guides and they agreed that one of them would accompany me down to Kitandara hut. One of the remaining porters grabbed my luggage and left at an incredible speed. Soon afterwards my guide and I started downhill. We moved at a seemingly tremendous pace, which, otherwise, would have suited me fine, but as things were, did not allow me to properly see where I was going. I must account it to muscle memory that my body just moved over those rocks, there was no way my vision system was able to provide timely, conscious feedbacks anymore. In this manner we approached Scott Elliot Pass, when I slipped on some slimy rock slab, half falling into a groundsel and giving it a good hug. At the pass we stopped for a photo take, but I felt it best to keep moving, I had a funny tingling in the ears and considered it wise to get further down asap.

At the Scott Elliot Pass.

The humming in my ears ebbed away as we continued our downhill jog. I had a fleeting view of the Upper Kitandara Lake, then had to concentrate as we climbed a slope without much slowing down.

Lobelia.

Lobelias and groundsels, looking towards Elena hut.

Finally, we reached Kitandara hut, where Mathias was lounging on the front porch, enjoying a tea. I slumped down and gradually related my story, then took a special headache pill Bernd had given me, which I had not wanted to take on the mountain, is it might have impaired my ability to descend. Most amazing was the effect of the tiger balsam type of essence that was provided by the guide. It really helped a good deal and a couple of hours later I was almost back to normal. Most excellent to have a clear mind again!
That night's dinner was excellent, consisting of rice and a mash of baked beans, tomatoes and onions, flavoured by some local spices.

Lazying around at Kitandara
---------------------------

There was a constant drizzle during the night, continuing into the morning. We stayed in our sleeping bags and waited for the breakfast to appear. It didn't. We eventually got out of the hut, enjoying a rain free period and some irradiance. In fact, the hut was clammier than the outside.
More rain showers forced us indoors again and we started to develop some mild form of cabin fever. Mathias sat wrapped in his sleeping bag while I spent considerable time cleaning the only table in the hut, covered with a thick layer of grime accumulated over the years. Layer upon layer of candle wax, muck and food was unearthed by the help of my knife, finally revealing a nice, dark brown wooden surface.

Lazarus toasting bread and cooking tea.

Olive trush (Turdus olivaceus baraka) sitting on groundsel stem.

Mathias and I hanging out in Kitandara hut.

Lobelia

Groundsels at the rivulet behind Kitandara hut

Lower Kitandara Lake

Lazarus bringing new coal for the next cooking.

Hypericum bequartii

The wx shortly cleared in the afternoon, allowing some excursions around the hut and even up to the Upper Lake.
By the evening it was clear that our two comrades would not join us this evening, despite the continuos assurances by our guides :"Yes, yes, they have climbed the peak and will be here for afternoon tea!". At was what we guessed all along; just unfounded guesses and provision of dangerous half-knowledge.
Even in the evening, our guide had the nerve to assure us that our friends were to have an early start and be at Kitandara by 8am, ready to hike with us to Guy Yeoman hut. We managed to convince him that we would leave by 8am in any case, independent of our friends. We then had the impertinence to ask for hot water, a wish that kept our cook Lazarus fanning the coal fire for another hour.

Freshfield Pass, Chutes and Swamps
----------------------------------

We left after 8am, our two comrades had of course not turned up. As we ascended through Lobelias and everlasting flowers we gained some views of the Kitandara Lakes and the near Congolese lowlands in the West of the Rwenzori Range.

Looking towards the Congo.

Groundsels near Freshfield Pass.

Freshfield Pass (4280m) was not very well defined; in fact, it just marked the start of a flatish section of terrain. This plateau was fairly open country, dotted with groundsels. It then dropped suddenly and the trail changed into a slippery chute formed by bedrock. Obviously, the erosion was due to the path usage, rendering away the thin layer of hill side swamp. The rock was quite treacherous as Mathias figured out not long after by performing a graceful sideways fall which destroyed one of his hiking poles.
Slipping and sliding we found ourselves reaching another Bigo Bog of yet unprecedented muddiness. After that, there was some more rock scrambling and bog bashing, leading into the Upper Mbuku valley.

Mathias looking down into the Upper Mbuku valley.

From there, the trail followed a cliff through more mud mingled with slippery tree trunks. Finally, the Mbuku stream was gained and followed downstream by river travel. I was in excellent spirits; it had been a long time since my last proper river travel and I enjoyed the boulder hopping and wading immensely.

River travel.

In this way we reached Guy Yeoman hut in just under 5 hrs. As soon as we were there, rain set in and we sat on the front porch, sipping our tea and trying to keep warm; despite having descended 600m in absolute elevation the temperatures combined with the humidity made us envy our porters huddled around an incredibly smoky fire.

Mathias at Guy Yeoman hut.

Lazarus and the porter team in the cooking shack.

Once more, we skeptically listened to our guide ranting on about our friends having descended this morning from Elena and soon being with us, "Yes, yes, they will be here for dinner!".
We however could not stop admiring Joel, that man in the back pulling all the strings: he somehow managed to keep up our supplies by sending forth one or two porters per day, who would bring along some items. On this very day, another tin of milk powder had arrived, half full with four tea bags added to it!
Mathias: "Joel is THE God!"

Back to 'Civilisation'
----------------------

Our last day in the Rwenzori started out sunny and we made our way towards the famous Kichuchu Rock, negotiating over the usual combination of mud and slippery logs. At the Rock, a ladder aided our descent and only a little chute that needed to be cross added some excitement.

Negotiating a slippery section.

From here onwards, the trail was characterised by mud of all varieties, made passable by slippery tree trunks and branches laid in along-track direction into the swamp.
We had some good fun trying to balance on the logs:

"The path of the Just is not easily trodden!", I said, in reference to some similar saying we had heard in Israel.

Beards of lichen hanging from trees.

Tramping through bamboo towards Nyabataba.

On the way to Nyabataba Hut, we crossed a considerable stretch of Bamboo forest till we reached the familiar ridge leading to the hut. Here we had a short lunch break and met some day tourists. We noticed the perfume of the woman wafting over to us and smirked at the overall cleanliness of the two. The following descent to Ibanda had us revisit the forest gradients once more and soon we trudged once more along the rushing Mbuku, the air heavy with the smell of the jungle and filled with the ceaseless chirping of the cicadas.

Sunday afternoon in Ibanda.

At RMS, our guides organise motorised transport, which means motorcycles in this part of Uganda. Our baggage rested in front of the drivers while we sat behind them, and off we went, over the rough trail through banana plantations and passing astonished locals waving and cheering.

Our taxis with our back bags in front of the drivers.

In this way we got to the Rwenzori Tours Holiday Inn, a place recommended by our guides. According to the visitors book, we were the first foreigners to hit this place since three months.
We were then shown into our room. The guides followed us and had a proper look around, making sure it was fit for us, proudly pointing out that the room even featured a mirror: "Please, here you can see yourself!"
Our chief guide Justus was deliberately lazying around in our room till he had received his tip, only then he consented to leave , promising to be back next morning (he would have another hour march to his home from here).
"Hey, I reckon it's about the time for a beer!"
'Correct, more important than having a shower!!!'

With that we got settled in low chairs on the terrace facing the road and had the first Bell. Most excellent! The air temperature was for once very agreeable, the beer was cold and the road provided a constant source of changing vistas.

Our hotel room held a few features worth noting. Most prominently, there was a TV encased in a steel construction, such that no one could nick it. The beds were covered with thick blankets with revolting tiger motifs, straight out of the 80's. The bathroom was spacious, fairly empty but also somewhat filthy, however, that did not matter much; by the time we were through it was a right mess!

In the evening, we had a curry, followed by some more beers. Meanwhile, the upper class of Ibanda seemed to congregate in this hotel. It was in this way that we met the Master of the Stairs, a respectable looking bloke wearing his best suit and tie and being fairly drunk. He informed us, slightly swaying on the spot, that he were responsible for all the ladders and stairs in the National Park.
"Yeah, awesome! Very good stairs! Thanks a lot, very good job! You know, we've been at Kichuchu Rock today!"
'Ah!!!', he cried jubilantly, 'I've also designed the ladders at Kichuchu Rock!!'
"Nicely done! It really helped us a lot!", I congratulated him, grandly dismissing the fact that all the steps had been slanting downwards, providing an excellent start for a bum slide!

Beers at the Rwenzori Tours Holiday Inn.

Denti della Vecchia (7.-9. Nov 2009)

2009-11-17T18:25:00.009+01:00

Day 1
We left Zurich earlyish on Saturday morning, boarding a southbound train that would take us to Lugano. From there, a bus took us to Tesserete where we started to tramp. Zbynek had brought is new mountaineering boots, which caused him considerable trouble along the way. He soon took to performing various methods to keep the pain at bay; 'experiments' he called them. Invariably, every break yielded another experimental setup till his feet were curiously patched up with foam rubber, bits of cloth and medical tape.
Nonetheless, we made good progress and got a bit of a view once we reached the treeline.

Above the treeline looking North.

A change in weather was imminent. The last rays of sunlight were soon absorbed by a grey layer of cloud that started to cover the whole hemisphere and a cold wind forced us to don some more layers.

Yvonne tramping towards Motto della Croce

View towards the South from Motto della Croce (1393 m asl)

We had brought bivvy gear along but opted to stay in a Swiss Alpine Club hut this evening. When we got there, we found the hut to be staffed and therefore, dinner was provided to us.
We had tea and nibbled some of our cookies and wondered what to do now, but then we discovered a game of Scrabble and the evening was saved! Yvonne excelled at it, not only because she was native English speaking, but because she knew some tricks that earned her a lot of points. It was however Zbynek that came up with the most ludicrous spellings, really cracking us up; most memorable is probably: 'GUSE'. Yvonne and I shared a look of raised eyebrows, till I cried out: "Ahhh, goose, you mean!"

Zbynek and I involved in Scrabble

As it got evening, snow fall was setting in, but Zbynek was still sneering at the fact that we had brought snow shoes along: "There will never be enough snow!".

Day 2

When our alarm went off, I reluctantly left my cosy sleeping bag to look out of the window. There was quite a bit of snow drifting around, driven by strong wind and it looked rather inhospitable outside. "Ahhh, hmmmm ....", I grunted, and crawled back into my down bag:
"I reckon, it's not the day for the high route ... there is no need to hurry!"

We eventually got up, dressed, had breakfast and geared up for the outdoors. It was indeed fairly windy with about 10-15 cms of snow. But once we got used to it, the conditions were quite enjoyable; it was just great to experience the force of nature, bringing snow and high winds at our altitude while it presumably rained in the valley below us.

Zbynek bashing through a snow drift

Icicles along the path

Snow level gradient in the forest

Looking South

By midday we reached the church of San Lucio, where we had a short lunch. Zbynek was bound to walk out today, so Yvonne and I had a short chat about what to do. We felt both fairly chilly at the time, sitting around in the cold munching lunch just cools the body down, even though the wind had died down by now.

"Quite simple, either we continue or we walk out as well."
'Hmm, yeah ...'
"It'll be warmer when we move again."
'Would be a shame to leave ...'
"Indeed, couldn't show our faces anymore ...'

Thus, it was decided that we would go on as planned, and a good decision it was too, providing ample adventures in due course!

Church of San Lucio

Mountain range East of San Lucio with clearly dicernible snow level

Zbynek walked with us up to a little knob. There we parted and he back tracked and we watched him pick his way through the snow.

"Here we are ... shall we put on the snow shoes?"

Progress had been hindered by the undulating ground under snow. It turned out that the snow shoes really improved comfort and the whole affair seemed to be more professional all of a sudden.

Snowy mud pool along the way.

We soon got into coniferous shrubbery, deeply covered in snow and overhanging the path.
Only way to go on was to put up the hood and push through, sometimes crawling on all fours and getting copious amounts of snow dumped upon us.

Yvonne at the start of the bushbashing

Me when tramping without a jacket could still be done ....

View over Lago di Como

Cliff towards the end of day 2

Twilight approached when we descended to a pass, which we had identified as our destination. From there we spied a bit of flat ground on a ridge line leading off to our right. A few more minutes brought us to the spot and it was indeed most perfectly suited to put up our tarp. We spent some time compressing the snow, always surprising how much space the tarp takes up after all.
Soon we got ourselves installed in the tarp and the stove was melting snow for a cuppa, which was highly welcome. The cookies tasted much sweeter than on the previous day and we mutually agreed that continuing had been well worth it!

Tarping on snow

We cooked pasta for tea and a lot of steam escaped the billy, forming a thick fog in our tarp, which eventually condensed on the fabric and turned into an ice sheet later on!

The night kept us working on insulation issues. We both found that the mattresses were not really made for these conditions and our hips and shoulders were perpetually cold till we stuffed some clothing down the sleeping bags to beef up the insulation. Especially Yvonne's sleeping bag was not as new as it had been a few years ago and a warm cup of tea was very welcome in the morning!

Day 3
We had had the fancy to imagine staying in our sleeping bags till the sun would warm us up. However, reality proved to be different and we got up anyway, hoping to warm up when tramping.

Our camp in the snow.

The weather actually worsened in the course of the morning, bringing mist and snow, and thus we came across the famous Denti della Vecchia, formidable limestone formations, without really seeing much. After a shivering lunch in a shelter the sun started to appear and soon the chill was gone.

Crepuscular rays of sunlight trace through mist in the Beech forest

We reached Bre, a little village, in the later afternoon and found that there was more than half an hour before our bus would leave for Lugano. I therefore proposed to have tea time and set about preparing a brew.

Preparing tea at the bus stop

We just had had a first sip of Lady Grey tea when the bus appeared! There was nothing for it but to tip our cups back into the billy and take it aboard! The driver either possessed a high degree of false confidence or was just a plain nutter, but he was rocketing downhill in a fashion that made little rivulets of tea make their way forward along the floor of the bus. This progress we watched with fascination and curiosity: "Hope there will be some tea left!"

A most remarkable adventure ..... and by now we also know about some effects essentially related to mild frostbite!

Pictures: Yvonne and Andy

Maggia Valley to Formazza Tramp (8. - 12. Oct 2009)

2009-10-20T23:00:00.013+02:00

October is traditionally the time for the yearly autumn tramp.
This possibly needs some further explanation: autumn IS the best season of all; there are the beautiful colours of senescent leaves, the clearness of air and plenty of berries and nuts. Splendid!

The planned route led from the Maggia Valley towards Binntal. But where we got, we shall see in due course ...

Topomap showing the planned trail

Day 1

We left Zurich in the later afternoon with the goal of reaching the starting point of the tramp that very evening. In this we succeeded and the tent spot we had discovered the year before served us well again. Soon a merry fire was crackling and the tarp set up, as some rain seemed imminent. Some water was boiled and tea served soon after. Then Reto and myself relaxed on the shingles close to the fire and waited for Marcel, who had taken a later connection, to find our camp. So presently he did and our party was complete.

Day 2

There was quite some rain during the night, the best lullaby I can think off, well, if it hadn't been for a sloppiness on my account when putting up the tarp. There was a considerable pool starting to fill on top, till I got up, emptied it and retied the tarp in a smarter way, allowing the rain to flow off freely.
The morning started dry but extremely foggy.

Our camp on the first morning of the tramp.

We followed the road for a while, then reached a stone bridge arching gracefully over a stream. Here we left civilisation behind us and soon after lost the path. On we went, boulder scrambling uphill, trying not to slip on the soapy lichen covering the wet rocks.

Marcel on the old stone bridge leading into the wilderness.

Up we go!

Marcel consulted his GPS and confirmed that 'we were on the trail'. A comforting thought to those not yet used to bushbashing and boulder hopping!
A short while later, we came indeed upon a path that was even marked and progress got somewhat swifter although less interesting.
This was soon made up for, as we ascended into dense mist that shrouded the surroundings, creating a mysterious atmosphere. Truly, there is a wonderful aspect about such weather.

Tramping in diffuse conditions.

Beech trees in the mist.

Reto and Marcel starting to disappear.

It got darker by the minute and not before long a drizzle started that soon turned into steady rain and made us don the rain jackets. The rain ceased in time for lunch, which was kept shortish as our bodies were cooling down given the dampness and lower temperature regime.

Crossing a bridge with dysfunctional railings.

At was at this altitude that we came upon the richest blueberry grounds we had ever seen and we spent some time digging in. Most delicious!

The trail vanished after the last derelict shepherds buildings or we could not spot it due to the fog and rain, that had inconveniently regained in strength soon after we left the main tree line behind us. These circumstances led to some more bushbashing through dripping wet Rhododendron hirsutum and other shrub like plants. At last, brown alpine pastures replaced the bush and we got a few glimpses of the mountain pass above us.

Marcel with the pass guessable in the background.

We crossed the pass and pushed on, by now it was getting really wet and even chilly, after all, we had reached an altitude of 2300 metres after ascending 1900 metres. Marcel and I decided on the spot, that we would not tramp on to the originally planned camp site near a lake but find a suitable site as soon as possible. In this we prevailed, although finding a spot that was not too wet took some scouting. I extracted the tarp and we had soon set it up and crawled in.
The border between hypothermia and utter comfort can be crossed in an instant if you don't know what your doing or have the wrong gear. As things were, the only sensible thing to do was take off the wet clothing, put on the longjohns and spare shirts, blow up the matresses, stuff the sleeping bags into the bivvy bags and slip in. Then we started the stove for a nice cuppa and life was pretty comfy and agreeable again. Soon, we held steaming mugs of cappucino and nibbled some biscuits and chocolate. Still, it was raining, which was most pleasurable, given that the tarp was waterproof.

Me: "These cookies are AWESOME!!!"
Marcel: "Things are going extremely well!"

Happy campers

Reto studying the topomap.

Home sweet home ...

After teatime the rain reduced to a drizzle and we took the chance to take a leak, get some new water from the nearby rivulet and take in the vista.

Marcel sourcing fresh water.

Alpine trolls?

A mountain camp.

View out of the tarp.

Enjoying the scenery while the dinner is cooking.

Cooking and eating were the last main actions of this remarkable day and soon after we snuggled into our sleeping bags and listened to the rain, just in time starting again with curiously singular big, heavy drops, gradually leading to steady downpour again.

Day 3

Day 3 dawned rainless and calm.

Dawn.

After morning tea followed by porridge, the tarp was collapsed and all gear stowed in the packs. By now, the clouds broke up and wonderful sunshine reached the Earth. Not to diminish the qualities of a rainy day, but sunshine is quite nice once in a while as well!

Tarn next to our camp site.

It was not very far to the next pass, from where we had planned a traverse to reach a mountain lake that had been the original destination of the previous day. It was again a pathless place, but while on the ascending side, alpine pastures interspersed with rocks dominated, a wild jumble of boulders of all sizes met us on the other side.

Me standing on a boulder a few steps behind the pass.

An examination of the topography resulted in abandoning the traversing plan as there were steep, glacier polished rock slabs that would have been challenging enough in dry conditions but were much too risky on this particular day. Thus, we boulder-hopped downhill and then scrambled up a grassy slope to reach the lake.

Marcel on another boulder amidst wild landscape.

The mountain lake in light rain.

We had a hurried lunch at the lake (it was raining again) and tramped on towards the next pass, requiring our boulder hopping experiences once more. Marcel and I were most accomplished in this sort of travel and drew ahead, keen to see what lay beyond.

Far over the Misty Mountains we must tramp ere fall of dusk ...

Steaming mountain ranges.

The weather was quite varied, including brief glimpses of sunshine, mist, wind and rain.
On one of the slopes we met two curious cows that were presumably after salt and started to slobber all over my backpack, which I had taken off to put on my rain trousers.

I'm attracting the attention of two cows ...

Mountain beauty ...

Lake after the last pass of the day.

En route to the tree line.

Descent through larch stands.

Finding a camp site was not that easy today, as we had descended below the tree line to have the chance of a camp fire. We finally found a likely spot that needed quite some terrain reforming (moving boulders and building platforms to prevent us from slipping down the slope). While I was busy with terra-forming, Marcel and Reto occupied themselves with building a fire. No easy task after the heavy rains. I joined them a while later in the job of peeling the wet bark of branches and producing dry splinters.
It took considerable time, but then we had a roaring fire, warm enough to sit barefeeted, which was a relieve as the boots were soaked.
Now was the chance to roast some chestnuts we had picked up in valley on the first morning. Delicious!

Day 4

Day four started out as a stunner; not a single clould was to be seen!

Reto at the camp in the morning.

After breakfast cooked on fire, we descended further into the Valley of Formazza, traversed a mixed beech and coniferous forest and ascended via a dammed lake to a further pass, where we arrived in the afternoon.

On the 'Passo Busin'

From here we took a direct route over glacially formed terrain towards a bivvy.

Me tramping with the Punta della Scatta in the background.

Short break for some photoshooting ...

Marcel overlooking a tarn

European Alps or Patagonia?

Tea time in the CAI (Club Alpino Italiano) bivvy.

We arrived at the bivvy in the later afternoon. It lay just a few metres past a pass and a fierce wind was blowing, causing us to retreat into the hut despite the sunshine. The bivvy was a a concrete construction and pretty cold inside, 6.5 degrees, but it kept out the windchill.
At dusk a weather change seemed imminent with clouds rolling over the next pass and quickly covering the hemisphere above us. We had mobile connection and figured out that there would be snow tomorrow. To cope with all eventualities, we developed an alternative route, leading back into the Valley of Formazza and allowing a swift retreat, should worse come to worst.
A few snowflakes were already blown by our hut when we retreated to our sleeping bags.
The night was the coldest yet off all on this trip; the building was a formidable fridge!

Day 5

We got up at 6am, prepared breakfast and look out of the door. There were about 10cm of snow and the view was down to about 20 metres. Reto was promoting the swift descent via the alternate and we finally consented to that, as the original route would have involved another pass and no one knew what the current weather might evolve into.
We were therefore on our way in the break of dawn, carefully moving among the snow covered rocks.

Descending from the bivvy in the first snow of the season.

Hiking conditions were actually quite good and we progressed nicely. The snow added some new flavour to the landscape and I enjoyed the darkness and stillness imposed by the fresh snow.
Tramping high above the lake, lying grey and forbidding below us, added to the wildness of the land shrouded in fog and drifting sheets of snow flakes.

Negotiating a boulder strewn slope.

Snow starts to accumulate at even lower altitudes while we descend.

Near the valley floor, looking back where we came from.

The path from the end of the lake down into the valley was neither exciting nor spirit lifting in any sort and I will pass over that bit. Suffice it to report that we found a restaurant in the village of Valdo where we ordered coffee and croissants.
We then had to pass a few hours in that place, whiling away the time till the next bus left in direction of Domodossola. While Reto rejoiced in shopping for regional groceries such as Prosciutto di Parma, Marcel and I felt downhearted and grumpy because we had failed in reaching our planned destination and had unfinished business in these parts of the Alps.
We grumbled and dratted as we were forced to join the shopping frenzy by our comrade, sneering at the cuckoo clocks and other touristic crap on sale.
Getting a lunch in a nearby pizzeria on the other hand was not that bad after all.

Still, I cheered up when being able to board the bus and leave the place behind.
The weather cleared up as we proceeded South and in Domodossola ample sunshine prevailed, allowing the savouring of an icecream (excellent stuff down in Italy).

We shall return!!!

Findelglacier Campaign (3rd - 6th Oct 2009)

2009-10-19T20:52:00.017+02:00

This is the account of a scientific field campaign, which is adventurous enough to be added to this particular blog!

The Findelglacier is situated close to Zermatt in the Swiss Alps and has lately been chosen as one of the glaciers monitored by the World Glacier Monitoring Service (WGMS) (see http://www.wgms.ch/about.html). Traditionally, the mass balance is measured using so-called ablation poles. These are six metres long, vertically embedded in the glacier in nine metre deep holes. The poles are then visited on a regular basis and the amount of mass reduction can be estimated from their length above the surface. Such measurements are time consuming (although fun) and give only sparse sampling.
A new PhD project undertaken by RSLs (Remote Sensing Labs) former MSc student Philip, now with Physical Geography, aims at using LIDAR data for the estimation of the mass balance. Modern LIDAR systems may be calibrated radiometrically and thus produce not only range findings used for the production of surface models but can also provide information about the target on the ground, i.e. its reflectivity. For such calibrations, spectral measurements of ground targets are required and that was the reason why I was lucky enough to join this little expedition.

Day 1

Our first destination of the day was the airfield of Turtmann, which we had identified as suitable ground reference target. We carried our numerous material (GPS, tripod, spectroradiometer plus all our personal gear including full glacier equipment, sleeping bags, matresses and stove) to the airfield and started to acquire spatial positions and spectral data.

Acquiring white reference measurements with the ASD FieldSpec instrument.

Philip giving me a hand for the white reference measurement

We soon had sampled two patches of the airfield and returned back to the train station to take the next train to Zermatt. During this train ride, I had the joy to go over the food plan of the next days; we had been given the responsiblity of buying all the food and I was soon immersed in food calculations. Thus prepared, we entered the supermarket and got all provisions in a minimal amount of time. This was followed by another train ride on the famous Gornergrat Railway, world famous, I expect, at least in Japan, which provides large contingents of tourists to this region. We got out at the 'Rotenboden' station, from where we had a short walk to a little research hut, slightly dilapidated but well supplied with food and cooking ware.

The research cabin overlooking the Gorner glacier with the Monte Rosa region in the background.

Having arrived at the hut, we admired the wild scenery and had a brew before setting to work. The University had acquired new expedition tents from the Swiss outdoor company Exped. I had a lot of Exped gear myself and was dead keen to set up one of the tents for fun and training reasons. I must admit that we did not come close to the four minutes of setup time, but we perfected our setup sequence, which had started suboptimal due to the lack of a user manual.

Dinner preparations in front of the hut (2700 m asl).

Day 2

This was the day of the LIDAR data acquisition and our job consisted of setting up and operating a GPS base station for dGPS post-processing of the data. For that reason, we took the first train up to the top and set up our tripod. To keep off the tourists, a climbing rope was borrowed from the nearby hotel and we rigged up a fence.
The next five hours consisted of sitting around, looking at the scenery, watching tourists, observing the GPS and our fixwinged aircraft flying the LIDAR, not to forget the hearty breakfast at the hotel!

Setting up the GPS base station.

After finishing the GPS data take, it was time for a late lunch, during which we had a discussion with a former mountain guide, who regarded the climate change issue with suspicion. Fair enough, but what is really striking is that the public only gets the media hypes but lacks the facts of scientific evidence ...

Back at the camp, we prepared for another 3 guys who were to join the team this evening. As the hut had limited bunks, we set up a Russian made tent, that had been part of some deal including sleeping bags and down jackets as well. Most curious was the tunnel system at one end, for which we could find no explanation whatsoever.

The research cabin and our Russian tent.

The rest of the day passed with preparing all gear for the day after, cooking dinner and going through next day's plan again.

Day 3

We got up at six am, had porridge for breakfast and hauled all the gear up to a flat terrain section where the helicopter would pick us up. It was full moon and despite that the scenery was way too kitsch, we had to take a picture or two anyway!

The Matterhorn is illuminated by the first sun rays with the full moon still at summit level.

All gear was deposited in neat columns according to group and destination and everyone was putting on their climbing harnesses while waiting in the cold morning air. It had been a while since my last helicopter flight and I was eagerly awaiting the arrival of the chopper. Then, the sound of whirrling blades reached our ears and soon the machine appeared and performed an overflight to check out the terrain.

Lama helicopter of the Air Zermatt doing an overflight.

Watch the overflight and landing as video!

Landing.

About to board the aircraft.

Three of us plus our day packs were soon crammed into the back seat of the helicopter and we were off, our mountain guide was already in one of the front seats. The flight was short but stunning. Flying just a few dozen metres above the glacier with all the crevasses and the lateral morains and mountain flanks on either side was just awesome!

Our helicopter leaves for the accumulation area.

We were dropped off at around 3400 m asl. We ropped up for glacier travel and, guided by our GPS, soon arrived at the first point of interest. The goal was to determine the accumulation of snow since last autumn. Using our snow shovel and ice axes, we began to dig in earnest, taking turns as digging at this altitude gets exhausting.

Philip shovelling, observed by Horst ...

.... a bit later ...

We had to hack through some ice lenses on the way and eventually reached another hard and dirty layer, which was proclaimed as 'last year's level' by Horst. We then took snow cores that were weighted and an exact profile of the snow column was recorded. During the digging, Philip and I took spectral samples of the snow surface nearby while being belayed by the mountain guide. Soon after, too many clouds moved in and spectral sampling was getting impractical. Still, I had to tramp along with the spectrometer on my back and I'm bound to say that ergonomically speaking, it's a pain in the backside after a few hours.

On the way to our camp site, a few existing ablation poles were visited and measured.
I was already excited about getting to the camp, as it was situated near a little lake at 2900 m asl and had been described as a really neat place. Indeed, there were some flat spots above the tranquile lake and the first thing we did was to take off a layer or two, cause it had gotten somewhat warmer during our descent and put on the kettle for a nice cuppa.

The camp at the lake in the evening sun.

The camp at the lake (2900 m asl).

After the first evening, I had gotten the job of chief cook on this expedition. Tonight's dinner for a total of 10 persons (another 3 had hiked in today) was logistically a challenge, involving three different models of outdoor stoves and an assortment of pots and pans. Still, my helpers and I managed to produce soup followed by pasta with tomato sauce and tea.
The tents turned out to be a bit restricted in space with four persons, nevertheless, once the impertinent snoring had stopped (or I had fallen asleep anyway), the night passed fairly well and there was even a bit of rain, which I enjoyed particularly.

Day 4

Wake up call was at 6am again and once more porridge was on the menu. There is something particular about porridge. It somehow lasts a good deal longer than calculated. It is a mystery. In any case, a bit more than half the porridge was gone when everyone stated that they were really, really stuffed. Yeah, right ....
We packed the camp and prepared the transport netting of the helicopter. We gave the spectroradiometer to the cargo specialist to take down into the valley as the weather was too cloudy for measurements today, saying "Watch out for this one, costs about 60'000 bucks!".

Our team had no flight today, but tramped to the ablation poles, carrying along a Heuke. This apparatus is best described as a portable steam boiler with two propane burners providing the heat input. The steam is then lead through a long piping and ends in a lance with vents at the tip. With this device, one can virtually steam holes into ice, up to around 9 metres deep. Into these, new ablation poles are sunk.

En route to our measurement points. The lateral moraine exposed by the fast retreating glacier is clearly visible in light colours.

Philip and myself with the Heuke instrument and the Matterhorn on the horizon.

Getting the position of an existing ablation pole.

Having drilled and measured all poles we had to do, the long tramp to the train station started. I enjoyed the hike, as it led across some wild landscapes.

Braided river system below the glacier.

Tramping through a larch forest with the Heuke.

On the way to civilisation.

Sorting out the gear at Zermatt main station.

A most interesting and enjoyable trip! Looking forward to getting some more measurements out in the hills!

Cheers to the team!

Andy

Zindlenspitz (27.09.2009)

2009-09-28T21:20:00.006+02:00

Roman had come up with an idea for a little day hike, however, the military fraction of our team opted to make it a bit harder. Turns out that even so, it was a bit longer and wilder than some expected ...

As it was quite close to Zurich, we had a lazy, civilian start in the morning and met at Zurich main station. A bus took us on the second leg of this journey to Innerthal, from where we started tramping. First along the lake, then ascending through forest and over pastures.

Tramping through mixed alpine forest

When we left the tree line, our destination towered above us, looking formidable and in-ascendable from this point.

The Zindlenspitz in the hazy background

The weather was hazy and cloudy and most of the surrounding landscape remained hidden. We had however a good view over some vast limestone slope in the vicinity of the Zindlenspitz.

Limestone formation to the South (Lachenstock, 2027m)

The final ascent was steep and the last few metres led along a ridge line to the summit.

Along the ridge towards the summit.

The last few metres!

We ate our lunch and then proceeded to locate a geocache, which was discovered by Hanna after quite some combined effort. Most of the team had never seen a cache and was enthusiastically looking at the logbook and fingering some of the trashy holdings. However, there was also a red dragon with a travel bug tag, which we took along to figure out where it had come from and what its mission might be. Turns out that it wants to stay in Switzerland but had already travelled a wee bit around the country:

Trail of the travel bug, stop number 18 is the Zindlenspitz where we picked it up.

The team on the summit (2097m).

The downhill trail was graded a bit more difficult and I was stoked to see it following a sharply defined ridge!

Negotiating a short scrambling section.

On the ridge.

Hanging on and having fun.

Soon the exciting part was over and a hiking trail of normal gradient led further downhill. We had a look at the map and figured that a possible way to get back to the bus station involved a section called the 'Bear Path' (Baerenpfad). Surely, the track was somewhat unclearly marked on the map, but you get that in the mountains. It was decided to go for it, and it proved to add some more adventure to the trip. Had it not been for the scarce and faded markings on some trees and rocks, one might have called it bushbashing.

Michael stated that things could be worse: "There could be stinging nettles and stuff!" - 'Shut up!!!' the others protested, only to find some nasty nettle field fifty metres later!

Trying to get a sure footing on slippery and wet grass.

Another cable (the crew is delighted!)

Pretty everyone was happy to reach a proper trail again which brought us swiftly back to the bus station, where we had enough time for some after action review in a restaurant. It was concluded that it had been a neat trip, although, next time we might get up a bit earlier!

Cheers to the team

Andy

Bisisthal - Linthal Tramp (19-20 Sept 2009)

2009-09-21T21:45:00.010+02:00

Aye, yes, guys, long time no blogging, which does not mean I was lazing around and not being out and about! But it's much easier to write about a weekend than about a few weeks, thus, I'll just gonna cover the tramp Marcel and I just did over the weekend.

The idea to do this tramp was mainly because I had a map of the region and the area seemed quite promising.

Situated in the middle of Switzerland, this part of the Alps was yet unknown to me and it was the business of this tramp to go and explore. Naturally, we took along the tarp, stove, food etc to be independent of any huts.

I did the planning of the route using GIS, because it is well known that the digital age is so much more efficient. Well, in fact, I reckon it took me longer to sort out all the little problems, than had I done it the old fashioned way. However, the resulting map looks neat and the time schedule is way detailed!

Topomap showing the trail

We started around 10am and were soon making our way through a forest with trillions of ants crawling on the path. A steeply inclined trail took us towards the tree line and we were sweating profusely due to the high humidity. Another climb brought us from a valley full of cows with enormous bells up to a jumble of limestone rocks. At the other end of this undulating field of boulders came an awesome sight: a great plain stretched all the way to the next mountain range, which seemed a long way off and immensely steep.

Marcel consulting map and GPS with the next range in the background

Looking towards the next range

I whipped out my camera and told Marcel to keep going, as I wanted to document his advance over the plain. It was clear that the hazy conditions combined with looking towards the sun resulted in a distortion of distances. The plain that seemed some kilometres wide was crossed in a matter of minutes!

Marcel on the big plain (the little dot approaching the other side of the plain)

Cliffs above the plain

View towards the head of the valley

I then followed Marcel and had a delightful stroll over the expanse of swampy ground towards the other side, where we found a little rivulet to top up our water bottles before the ascent to a pass that would lead us to another valley. As usual, we quickened our pace when approaching the top as we longed to see what lay beyond!

On the pass with the Glattalp valley behind us

We had a few minutes rest, enjoying the view and marvelling at the mix of clouds and sunshine towards the West. Then we tramped on, first traversing and then descending to the confluence of a few little, almost dried-out streams where we found running water and a flat, dry place to set up camp. It was still quite early and we enjoyed a cuppa and had a good yarn.

Clouds shroud the peaks in the West

Our camp

Having a cuppa and watching the clouds roll in

Another cup of tea, some snoozing and suddenly it got somewhat chilly with the sun gone and fog reducing the view drastically. We retired to the tent and prepared dinner: pasta with tomato soup and cheese; an all time classic.

Just when we were ready to dig in, a light drizzle started.

"Ah, wonderful!" - 'What a timing!'

With delight we listened to the sound of rain on the tarp.

Alas, the rain soon stopped and the night passed without any further natural lullaby.

The next morning dawned quite clear but on the next pass hung clouds. We had a porridge for breakfast, which was quite good, despite the fact that Marcel kept sneering at my promises of '... this will be a porridge like no other!'

A traverse and steep climb brought us up to the saddle (2395 m asl) where a cold wind was blowing and we soon started the descent on the other side.

Steep descent from the pass

From there, just about 3 kilometres horizontal and 1800 metres vertical separated us from our goal: the train station where the chances to get a beer were extraordinarily high, for it was a warm day again!

A most excellent 2 day trip and in unison, we lifted our pints and declared: "Tramping rocks!"

Buochserhorn (22. Dec 08)

2009-01-01T22:22:00.004+01:00

I had been searching through my outdoor database, looking for some worthwhile snowshoeing trip. Eventually, I discovered an article on a ski tour on the Buochserhorn, Central Switzerland. Surely, such a trip would also be feasible using snowshoes.
Therefore, a sunny morning found Fran and myself ascending towards the summit with the hamlet of Niederrickenbach lying below us.
Our excitement grew as we got nearer to the ridge line and indeed, we were rewarded with a most splendid view!

View over the cornice towards Brunnen with a part of Lake Lucerne in the valley ground.

Soon after we saw the big, silver cross appear that marks the summit (1806.8m asl).

Summit cross

We reached the summit shortly after midday, however, the sun was at a low elevation due to winter time and the shadows of the Buochserhorn and the Nollen were projected down onto the surface of the lake. The view was breathtaking!

View from the summit looking towards Mt Rigi

We had lunch and a bit of a snooze in the brilliant sunshine till the reduced irradiance of the sun and some increasing, chilly breeze forced us to tackle the descent towards the lake.

Descending from the Buochserhorn looking towards Brunnen.

Towering above Brunnen, a village at the lakeside, was the pyramid-shaped 'Grosser Mythen'.

Brunnen with the 'Grosser Mythen' in the background.

The snow conditions on the NE side were less than perfect: some hard top layer through which we would break on every step. Consequently, our progress was rather slow. Thanks to this, we were granted a spectacular sunset when the last rays of the sun illuminated the peaks opposite of the Buochserhorn.

Sunset: sun rays reach the summits through a gap in the clouds.

An excellent trip which can thoroughly be recommended.

Climbing the Little Furkahorn (30.8.2008)

2008-09-07T10:38:00.005+02:00

The Little Furkahorn had been on our todo list for some time now. It was to be Marcel's fourth attempt and my third. Previous trips had taken us up the first half and on the last occasion we tried a few pitches above that. In all cases, it was some mix of unsure weather conditions, lacking fitness of our companions or lacking time (due to slow climbing, thus finally due to lacking training and fitness).
This time, everything was right: the forecast was brilliant, we were just the two of us and our team work had been honed over the years. The only thing that might work against us was my tiredness after a full week of military staff officers training.
Thus, I got home, stripped out of my fatigues and donned the outdoor clothing, packed my backpack after a short gear check: harness, quickdrawers, helmet, rock climbing shoes, mattress, bivvy bag and sleeping bag. Then I was off again, taking a train to Goeschenen in central Switzerland where Marcel picked me up. We drove up to the Furkapass and set up shop near a barn on a flat piece of ground. For a while we watched the night sky littered with stars and looking out for shooting stars, then we dozed of quickly.
Our alarm went off before dawn and we quickly got dressed, left the overnight gear in the nearby car and marched off to the start of the first pitch.

Dawn over the Walliser Alps. The sharp peak still shaded in the right part is the Matterhorn.

We even found it instantly this time (the first time we had looked around for it a good hour) and got started just as the first sun rays illuminated the snow covered peaks.

Our route up to the summit.

The climbing was going quickly. As we knew the route from the previous trips, we did not even bother to clip into all the bolts. Consequently, rope handling was more strenuous than usual and we were both breathing quickly at the given altitude.

The Rhone glacier below our climbing route.

The route started at 2500m asl and led up the the summit at just 3000m. Technical difficulties were between 3 and 4 with some sparse 5 sections (UIAA rated).

Marcel near the end of the route.

Just 4h 10' brought us up to the end of the climbing route. The last bit along the ridge was not bolted but did not demand any protection to be set; we felt safe enough climbing along with the shortened rope.

Me on the ridge close to the foresummit.

Marcel and myself on the ridge (we had the camera dangling from an upright rock slab).

Marcel perched on a big slab on the ridge.

Me abseiling from the top.

Me taking up the rope with the rappelling section behind me.

From here we walked the rest up to the summit of the little Furkahorn for a well deserved picnic.
Excellent climbing trip!

Eleven Peaks (4th - 9th August 2008)

2008-08-16T14:25:00.020+02:00

This trip originated from having no other plans for a holiday this summer. Hanging out in my flat and browsing the alpine club magazine, I identified one guided trip that captured my attention: eleven 4000m peaks in five days, tramping from hut to hut, medium-hard difficulty, that seemed just about right.

Here's a spatial overview of the trip as it was finally put into action:

Note that by clicking on the image, you'll get a bigger version onto your screen.

Day 1:

We had stayed in Zermatt overnight and, having had a last civilized breakfast at the hotel, proceeded towards the cable car that would take us up to the Little Matterhorn. To me this felt like cheating, I'd have preferred to hike up, but then, this trip was not planned by myself.
It was considerably colder up here (3883m asl) and we put on beanies and gloves while roping up. There were 8 customers and 3 mountain guides, forming 3 teams comprising 3 or 4 persons respectively.
First peak of the day was the Breithorn (4164m), a very easy summit with just a few metres of a moderately narrow ridge line.

View from Breithorn, other teams are visible on the ridge that leads to the summit.

We descended from the Breithorn and started towards the Pollux by crossing the Verra glacier.

Short break en route towards Pollux (first peak on the left) (4091m)

During our short break I observed three mountaineers descending in the face that was turned towards us. To me this looked fairly steep and I thought that, yeah, going up might be ok, but down?
When I looked back I saw the group just rolling down as tangly mass and come to a rest at the foot of the slope. Nasty. Reckon they were about halfway down when they fell. Soon afterwards, the REGA rescue chopper was zooming towards the injured and gave them an airlift to the next hospital.
Well, things like that happen, especially when you walk where you probably shouldn't. In any case, I was concentrating a wee bit harder just to make sure ....
The ascent lead up a snowy couloir, followed by a rock climbing passage, fairly easy (at least for me, others were huffing and puffing and wondering where to put their feet). This brought us eventually to a foresummit from where a gentle ascent along a ridge led onwards to the peak.

At the start of the rock climbing section.

Descending from Pollux. I just loved the warm, grippy rock!

From the bottom of Pollux it was just another slog in the now slushy snow towards our hut: Rif Guide d'Ayas (3400m).

Pollux as seen from the hut.

I slept quite well despite the height, the only thing that really troubled me was the woolen blanket that had the unwelcome tendency to slide off towards the floor. I also positively cursed my sleeping bag liner, as it kept twisting itself around me till I was wrapped as tightly in it as a pupating caterpillar; probably the late revenge of the critters that had died for the production of my silk liner ....

Day 2:

We had a late-ish start, around 8, I had expected a far tougher program.
Breakfast was typical Italian, meaning the energy value of the bread matched its goodness in taste (with both parameters being infinitely small).
The weather was cold and windy with clouds hanging around the peaks.

Approaching Castor (4226m)

The first part of the ascent was easy zig-zaging up the snowy slope till we got to the bergschrund. Here our guide led up and set up a provisional belay on top.

Our guide Patrick climbs from the Bergschrund to the ridge.

Up on the ridge a gusty wind was blowing and the walk to the summit stretched my nerves quite a bit. The ridge was barely wide enough to place both feet next to each other and a drop of hundreds of metres loomed on both sides, thankfully partly hidden in the clouds. We walked on the short rope, our guide leading and us two customers tottering after him. I especially disliked the gusts of wind and was terribly pleased to reach the spacious summit (here the ridge was at least 2.5 metres wide and only moderately steep).

Our last team on the way to the summit, shame one cannot see how steep and gusty it really was ....

From the summit it was all ridge line down to the glacier, but both wind and narrowness were no longer as imminent dangers as before, thus this was as close to a pleasant stroll as it gets.
We got to the next hut around lunch time and spent the afternoon lazying around in the sun and trying out the local slackline.

The Rifugio Quintino Sella (3585m) with some tents on the foreground; some people rather enjoy their own confined space instead of cramming into the hut (quite understandable, really)

Clouds above a range to the South.

View from a cairn towards the route of the coming day.

The setting sun illuminates a cloud above the next ridge, forming a fiery dragon.

The sleeping quarters of the hut were designed in a peculiar way: there were seemingly separate compartments but all opened up into the same roof space. Lying on the top bunks, I had a clear view along the length of the hut. This necessitated the use of earplugs very much.
Just over in the next compartment a bunch of talkative Germans was noisily getting about their business, nonchalantly chatting among themselves, stating "Wir sind hier ja unter uns!" ("We're among ourselves here!"). I restrained myself of retorting a snide comment and just thought 'What a stupid bunch of people!' before fitting my plugs and dropping off into a solid sleep.

Day 3:

This morning we got up before dawn and were on our way across the Felik glacier when the eastern sky started to shift from dark to pale greyish-blue.
I felt a bit dizzy and kept sipping my sugary tea. This seemed to help and by the time that we stopped shortly off the start of the traverse up the flank of Il Naso (4215m) I was again in full control of my body.

The flank of Il Naso with some teams already traversing up.

The side of Il Naso was about 45 degrees in angle but the snow was of very good condition and a well defined trail already led up. I had been on much worse slopes of similar angle (Comparing it to climbing Taranaki with Chucky, where we almost snuffed it) and this time we were even roped up! Thus, it was just concentrating where to place the feet and being ready to plunge in my iceaxe in case the middle man of our team would slip.
In this fashion we made good progress and even overtook a few teams that kept pausing. The only odd thing I noted was that all of a sudden there were no other teams behind us. Then we got out of the shadow (it had been pretty cold) into brilliant sunshine. We had a short break to take in the new scenery the lay to the East, then we continued up to the summit along another ridge, but this was easy, as the sides were not that steep and the air was calm.

Another team behind us makes for the top of Il Naso along the good-natured ridge.

We descended a fair bit down to the Lis glacier and continued towards the Balmenhorn (4167m).

En route to the Balmenhorn.

Getting there was quite a slog and I would have preferred to walk a wee bit faster but being roped up prevented such escapades. The last few metres up the Horn led along a short via ferrata, the only imminent danger seemed to be the crampons of my team partner who climbed in front of me.
There was even a little hut perched below the summit, but what a crappy place, some senseless dude had indeed managed to walk up on the snow covered roof and use it as an outhouse! Phew, there is virtually no end to the stupidity of people!
If you ever thought that getting snow from the roof for a cuppa would be smart, hey, think again!!!
After some snacks and photos we continued towards the Pyramid Vincent (4215m), our third and last 4000m peak of the day. In the lowlands to the SE, awesome thunderstorm clouds started building up and we figured it was about time to bugger off.

A group of mountaineers approaches the Pyramid Vincent from the SE with towers of thunderstorm clouds rising quickly in the background.

Again, the snow proved to be slush and we were slipping and sliding towards the next hut: Rifugio Mantova (3400m).

We sat in front of the hut, enjoyed coffee and cake and started to wonder where team number 3 had gotten to. We had not spotted them since that traverse on the Il Naso flank. And we also discussed the fact that, while we were descending from the Naso summit, a rescue chopper had been flying around.
Some rumors started popping up, delivered by arriving groups. There was talk of one person being injured, others claimed they had come across a pool of blood and that a whole team had slipped and tumbled down the mountain side.
It was another three hours that team three arrived, all unhurt but rather tired and psychologically worn out.
It seemed that some climbers had taken an unusual route up to the Naso summit and dislodged at least one slab of rock. This had been taking up speed, turned up like a wheel and leaped down the slope. Our group described it like a big bird beating its wings, whoosh, whoosh, before you knew what happened, there was a cry from the group behind them and one woman had sunken down. Her knee had been hit by the rock. Fortunately, the team could hold her.
The mountain guide of our team came to help the other group. Their leader tried to call the chopper, but the cell phone would not work. They then dug out the radio our team had and they made the call. Simultaneously, and unknown to the afore mentioned two teams, another rock must have gotten a following group in such a way that all of them were dragged of the mountain face and fell down into a bergschrund. Other people seeing this called in the mountain rescue as well. One chopper came, but concentrated on the bergschrund victims while the injured woman was still on the mountain side, conscious and in terrible pain (the wound looked apparently downright nasty, glad I didn't have to see that). The Italians running the rescue had had language troubles in first place (only Italian) and consequently figured that both messages concerned the drop of the whole team.
By now, the situation on the mountain side was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. Sitting on a cold, 45 degree slope and waiting for a chopper was unnerving. The leader of the injured woman bade our team to wait till his partner would arrive with their second team. They never made it. In fact, they were right then being dragged out of the Bergschrund. Three seriously injured and one dead.
When it became clear that no chopper was to arrive, they tried to call the Swiss REGA, but they could not react instantly either, as they were just then rescuing some dudes from the Matterhorn.

REGA chopper (Eurocopter EC 145) with medic on the winch (Source: www.rega.ch)

When the REGA finally arrived, they surveyed the situation from the air, then flew off to prepare the medical team for a winch insertion. The dropped the team right on site, fully equipped with crampons, climbing gear and medical kit and they got to work quickly, fixing the patient on an air pumped stretcher. The doctor and the stretcher hanging in front of him were attached to the cable and the helo pulled them out. By now, a second chopper had arrived for the transport into the shock room in the Inselspital Bern. The stretcher was lowered next to the other helo, put inside and off it went.

Gruesome story. We started to analyse this, noting that it might have been us if we had had one more break. Just a minute or two can make a difference between life and death. Well, that realisation was not really uncommon to me, still, it makes you think about your options; could you have reacted at all? Death is always closer than most people realise. A good thing to remember.
Still, fact is, mountaineering accidents happening that close do get to you, way more than seeing yet another ambulance racing down the street in your home town.

The weather forecast indicated that a cold front would move in the next evening. The original plan had been to do a few peaks tomorrow and then stay in the Margherita hut (4456m). This seemed not wise, as we might get stuck up there due to heavy snowfall. Therefore, plans were changed and the wakeup time consequently set to half past three.

Day 4:

It was a short night but I was frankly keen to get up; it had been horribly warm and stifling in the sleeping quarters. We had plenty of time to breakfast and get ready, or at least it seemed that way to me, cause I reckon my military training and outdoor experience helped to get ready quickly.
We got moving under head torch, heading uphill in a steady pace, stars glittering overhead, but most of us mainly concentrated on the ground and tried to breath regularly as the pace was somewhat quick this early morning.

On the move towards the brightening horizon.

Watching dawn was just grand. An eerie blue light started to illuminate the highest peaks while the valleys were still dark.
Our first peak of the day was called Corno Nero (4215m). I put on my trusted Macpac jacket, right over my windstopper; the wind was very strong and cold with some snow drifting with it. From the top of Corno Nero, we observed the sun that had just appeared on the horizon, sending its beams across the cloud covered lowlands.

Sunrise as seen from Corno Nero.

First sun rays at the base of Corno Nero.

Movie of snow drift near Corno Nero.

The Ludwigshoehe (4341m) was another easy little summit, way surpassed by the following Parrotspitze (4436m) which sported a 500m long, quite narrow ridge that led to the summit. On the Southern side, the drop was vertical with a slight cornice that served well as a parapet. the Northern side was probably around 50 degrees for the top part but got vertical further down as well. Being up here and feeling rather safe was just AWESOME!

On the summit of the Parrot ridge looking South-East.

The Parrot ridge (Source: Barbara Fetz)

Our team on the Parrot ridge (Source: Barbara Fetz)

Snack break after descending from Parrot.

Snow patterns. The lower part of the Parrot ridge can be seen on the left side.

Patrick checking on his team.

The following route up towards the Zumsteinspitze (4563m) was a right slog, just walking a few steps a bit faster and one could feel the thin air right away.

En route to the Zumsteinspitze.

Getting to the top was stoking, we felt incredibly elated and drank in the scenery with great gulps of air. There wasn't much around that could obstruct the view apart from the Dufourspitze (4515m) right next to us.

The Margherita hut (4456m), highest serviced hut in the Alps (Source: Barbara Fetz).

The Liskamm (in the background), one of the grand traverses in the Alps.

The last summit was practically a visit of the Margherita hut as it sits on the highest point of the Signalkuppe. I had a coffee and felt extremely tired in the overheated common room, thus was glad to leave for the fresh air soon afterwards.
All that was left was a descent from our current altitude of 4456m down to the Monte Rosa hut (2795m), that took another few hours along the endless Grenzgletscher (Frontier Glacier) followed by some boulder hopping down to the hut and just arriving there with the first rain drops precipitating from the approaching cold front.

The Gorner glacier as seen from the Monte Rosa hut.

By now, 2800 metres felt like the lowlands to us (Despite the fact that the hut overlooked a glacier ....)!

Day 5:

The last day was mainly a stroll to the next train stop, first leading across the glacier, then along the valley on a rising path. The valley in front of us was dominated by the world famous Matterhorn, partly hidden in a cloud.

On the Gorner glacier with the northern side of the Liskamm in the background.

Tramping towards the Matterhorn.

Grazing sheep near the Riffelberg station.

Galtiger Tuerme (1st June 2008)

2008-06-01T22:04:00.005+02:00

The Galtiger Tuerme on the Pilatus are always worth a trip as they offer good multi pitch rock climbing. This was our third time up here and I did the all climbing sections with my mountaineering boots, very comfortable actually.

Alpine salamander which we came upon during the tramp to the start of the route.

Marcel (orange shirt) at the next anchor point. The route was fairly popular today ...

Last year we had only done half the trip as Anna and Kevin had been joining us at the time. Today we were much quicker (apart from 'traffic jams' due to the many climbers).
Still, we were both musing about the fact that the route had seemed much more challenging when we first did it 2 years ago.

A little stroll before breakfast (25th May 2008)

2008-05-26T22:36:00.003+02:00

Marcel had come up with an idea for some Sunday outdoor trip, mainly as an alternative to a planned canyoning or rock climbing trip, both being postponed due to a) team members bailing out due to sickness and b) unsure wx conditions.
Plan was to hike up Pilatus (2119m asl) and get some breakfast in the hotel that sits on top.
Brilliant!

We were on the trail by 0715, speeding uphill at a pretty good pace, although my head was swimming, reckon that anti hay fever pill I'd been swallowing the very morning had some adverse effects ....

Soon, we were rewarded with a good view over the Vierwaldstaetter Lake that is nested between hills and mountains marking the start of the main alps.

Having started in Alpnachstad (450 m asl), we covered a good 1600 metres of ascent in 2h 20'.
That's close to 700m/h vertical speed. Not bad for the start of the season ...

By the time we reached the summit, clouds had already moved in, obscuring the view and prompting us to visit the restaurant soon after taking the above shot.
Still, we had another photo opportunity we could not resist:

Yeah, that beast's supposed to be a dragon ...

SOLA 2008 Relay Race (17th May 2008)

2008-05-21T20:37:00.004+02:00

The SOLA is a yearly relay race that is organised by the Academic Sports Club Zurich (ASVZ).
The total length of the trail is 116.74 km and the team consists of 14 runners.
The number of participating teams was a total of about 730, thus around 10,000 persons were taking part!
We had organised a team from the institute of geography, mainly consisting of GIS and GIVA people, thus the name 'GIRunners'.
I had selected the longest of the legs, leading from Felsenegg to Buchlern over a total of 14.27 km with 330 metres ascent and a considerable amount of downhill.

Leg number 5.

Profile of leg 5.

I had quite a good run, feeling very pleased with the time it took me, still, those hill sections were killing me, reckon I'll do some more hill training for the SOLA 2009!

Just a hundred metres to go!

Here some statistics:

Time: 1:12:16
min/km: 5:03
Rank: 473
Median: 1:09:33 (median value of all 730 participants of this leg)

Right, looking forward to next year's SOLA, my new goal is to beat the median!

Snowy adventures in Austria (10.-12. 05. 2008)

2008-05-18T18:02:00.018+02:00

Team: Andy, Katja, Christiane

Katja had raised the idea to do a tramp in the alps over a longer weekend. This prompted me to come up with a plan and, honestly, I was planning it very, very conservatively. Or so I thought.
First day would be around 3 hrs ascent to a hut, second day about 4 hrs to the next hut, last day a mere 2h 45 out to civilisation again. I also announced this plan to the team, apologetically stating that ' ... might throw in a peak if we got too much time ...'.
Also planned some alternative routes, just in case conditions were not good enough to use the high level routes (high level in green):

Due to the amount of snow still lying at altitudes > 1600 m asl, we had also brought along snow shoes. A correct decision as it turned out.
We met in Bludenz on Sat morning, drove on to Dalaas, parked the car and started a sweaty uphill slog towards our first hut. We met some first patches of snow around lunch time. These soon became more numerous, developing into a full snow cover.

Snow conditions were pretty slush and even wearing snow shoes was not preventing us from sinking in a few centimetres with every step. In this tiresome way, we continued ever up.

The team at the end of the first day's trail. The cliff at the top left is the "Rote Wand" (Red Wall)

We had already know that the hut was not open apart from the 'winter room', usually an annex to the main hut. Still, we were somewhat surprised to find that the winter room was a little hut with the entrance blocked by 1.5 metres of snow!

Let me in!!!!!

There was a lesson to be learned from this: Always carry a shovel!
In case you don't have one: snowshoes do a pretty good job as shovels as well ...

Keep on diggin' .....

At last, access to the hut is gained!

Tea time in front of the winter room (main hut in the background) with some ominous clouds appearing in the West.

The team with its new member: a weirdo mountain troll ...

Firewood turned out to be very scarce, thus heating the hut to some really agreeable temperature was not an option. Thus, after dinner we retired to our sleeping bags with the intention of getting up at 5am next morning and try to do the high route.
The alarm went off after a good 8 hrs of sleep and I got up, fired up the stove, put the kettle on and went for a look around outside. Uhhh, raining?!?!?!?! Indeed so, sky was all overcast with light rain. Bugger. Back to the sleeping bag for another nap.
Departure was further delayed by a pancake breakfast, fine eating, but time consuming. In any case, we hit the route around 9am and intended to take the lower route. This intention lasted till we got into a steepish slope, around 40 degrees of angle, I reckon. I didn't really like this, as the snow was slush already. I tentatively made one step into the slope and, even wearing snow shoes, sank in up to my knee! A further inspection revealed that there was a harder layer beneath. Avalanche risk galore!
This was a no go. We changed to route uphill and kept to gently inclined terrain. Still, views were splendid.

On flatish terrain to avoid avalanches.

Katja following our trail towards a lookout point.

Downhill slog.

It took us a good 3 hrs to reach the point where the valley leading to the next branched off. Lunch time. The break was somewhat shortened by the disappearance of the sun and we set off again, slightly shivering. A gentle river was flowing in the valley we now followed upstream.

The amount of avalanche deposits waw amazing. I head seen quite a deal during our last sampling campaign near Davos, Switzerland. Still, crossing these huge flows with lateral snow moraines was impressive.

Katja and I discussing the best route over an avalanche deposit.

Negotiating our way over a lateral moraine.

The amount of creatures we spotted on this second day was also unexpected: fox, marmots, chamoix, snow hare and ... frogs, leaping over snow!!!

One of the frogs on its way towards some open water.

We already felt pretty knackered by the time we got to the dam of the lake near the second hut. There was a track indicated on the topomap, however, we could not find it in the terrain. I climbed around a bit in some steep, rocky terrain, but could find no safe route. We then considered hiking along the edge of the lake. The water level had been dropping throughout the winter and consequently the shore was covered in broken ice floes. This however no real good option upon close inspection as one might break a leg when stumbling into one of the cracks. Taking a even higher route seemed not advisable either. Thus, we finally had to turn to another option: there was a little but stop hut nearby, apparently being served by some bus during summer. Big enough to provide a shelter for the night. Fair enough, as we had brought mattresses as well as sleeping bags. We first of all had a brew and considered our situation. We really started to wonder how we would get out of this the next day. I wanted to gather more information on a possible downclimb on some rock face and thus Katja and myself trudged over the dam and up that slope once more. I then realised that downclimbing would lead us onto the ice floes again. Bummer. Considering a slightly upper route again, we suddenly found a ledge covered in snow offering a possible escape route. I proceeded along it by kicking steps and it all felt good. Confident of having found a way out, we made back to camp and prepared dinner.

The bus shelter with Katja and Christiane being busy with some delicious Asian dish.

The night in the shelter turned out to be quite comfortable after all, not too cold really.

The team in front of the bus shelter on the 3rd day.

While preparing breakfast next day, two touring skiers came towards us along the edge of the lake and we figured out that this route was feasible in the morning when the snow was still hard. Fair enough. We thus didn't bother to use our scouted route of the previous evening but set off over the ice floes. We then even found a place to safely cross the stream feeding the lake.

Crossing the stream on some old bridge which would be well submerged when the lake is filled up.

Having reached the other side of the stream, joyful cries were uttered as we believed that we had gotten out of this situation quite unscathed. Little did we know!
We still had to cross a slope lying in the shade. First we climbed up to some knob with a cross on top. Although the snow was hard, walking uphill with our snowshoes felt safe.

Ascending a steep slope covered with crisp snow.

Freedom was close, if we just could get to the start of the second dam. Still, a couple of hundred metres separated us and the slope angle was ever increasing. I got a queer feeling in my stomach and felt suddenly not very confident about the way my snowshoes were sticking on this ground. There was a line of old footprints across the slope, a few days old and as icy as the rest. Walking along here with snowshoes felt not good at all. To our right and a 50 metres slide over hard snow lay the lake, still covered with ice but with some icy-blue water on top. Slipping was certainly not an option here.
I carefully took of my snowshoes, fastened them to my pack and started kicking steps. Nasty business. Fear started making me even less confident, I might get across here, but would the others? Keep on kicking and take care ....! The snow was very hard and icy and I wondered why I had not packed my ice axe. Bugger this! One should know better by now!!! Every step felt very unsecure and keeping balance was paramount.
Halfway through was a bit of a platform where we could gather again and I unmounted those plates from the end of my poles in order to plunge them in all the way, then tackled the second bit with step kicking. This actually worked much better, somehow the snow was not as hard as on the first bit.

Negotiating the icy slope just before it got really nasty ....

What a relief to reach safe ground!!! By the time I got there I was breathing hard from all the kicking and adrenaline levels were high.
From there onwards, things got easier and we descended without any further major adventures all the way down to a village called Kloesterle.

Christiane and I at the start of another valley leading towards civilisation.

We all felt happy about getting below the snow line and I must admit that I had seen enough snow for that season! Still, I was feeling quite elated at having gotten through all these challenges; the amount of adventures on this trip had beaten my expectations by far!!!

Wednesday evening climb (7th May 2008)

2008-05-08T22:18:00.004+02:00

About time to start outdoor climbing again.
Reto and I went again for some climbing near Schwyz at the 'Chaemiloch'.
A good chance to practice some lead climbing and setting of anchors.

View from the climbing area: Snowy alps in the background.

Reto with the Mythen mountain in the background.

Reto and myself at the top of one of the routes.

Reto enjoying the view.

Me during the abseil.

Sightseeing, hiking and climbing in Eastern Germany and Czech Republic (11.-14. Apr 2008)

2008-04-17T23:08:00.015+02:00

I had taken off two days and gone visiting good friends of mine in Dresden, Eastern Germany.
We did some sightseeing, hiking and rock climbing (day trip into Czech Republic), the spatial position of these activities can be seen here:

The first evening was spent having dinner, followed by some sightseeing in the inner city.
Very nicely rebuilt really, only the light concept is somewhat inhomogeneous as can be seen here:

Dresden at night.

A visit of "Saxon Switzerland" was on the next day. The area could be described as hilly and forested with some scattered sandstone outcrops forming pillar like structures and offering interesting tramping and climbing opportunities.

Me at the start of a via ferrata.

Interesting routing through the pillars.

The Team on a summit.

"Hmmm, that's way fascinating, that is!"

Katja, myself and some curiously shaped rocks with the path sneaking through the gap.

View over the Elb Valley, stretching towards the Czech Republic.

Sunday: a climbing trip into 'Bohemian Switzerland'.
When we crossed the border I was amazed to see all the crap they had on offer on the Czech side: garden gnomes of the ugliest sort, pottery, wickerwork, cheap backpacks and even some storks, obviously sold as an add-on for completely fitting a garden with useless stuff.
The climbing was different to the one I was used to. Anchor points were very scarce. There would be a big rock pillar with one big anchor on top and possible one in the middle, if you got lucky. The common technique seems to jam a knotted rope-sling into some crack and use this as intermediate safety point. Fair enough, but I was not that keen on leading under these circumstances.
The rock, however, was of a stunning quality in terms of grip, those rock climbing shoes would just stick like glue!

The area was again scattered with pillars and bluffs, offering many short climbs, most of thee pillars having a logbook on top!

A particularly beautiful pillar with a route featuring a neat overhang. Here, Denise can be seen inspecting the available handholds while Koni and myself (left) are having a good time on the top.

Denise concentrating on the next move.

That was a really nifty trip. Was great meeting all of the participating crowd!

Cheers

Andy

ORIENTARIO-08 (15.-16. March 2008)

2008-03-21T19:27:00.011+01:00

ORIENTARIO is one of these rare events where you actually PLAN to do bushbashing. Anina and I had come up with some evil master plan, giving plenty of points along a route: some would give you coordinates, others just a bearing and a distance and some were for the geometry inclined: 'Add 63 anticlock-wise degrees to the previous bearing'.

The route as planned in ArcMap. (Click to see big)

Having worked out the next point, we would set the bearing on our compasses and start tramping towards it. Simple as that. On the way, you might encounter some shrubbery, brambles, just to keeps things interesting.

Marcel and Maggie figuring out the next point.

The team on route to the next point. A clear run for once!

Camping was planned at some sandstone cave I had visited previously already and the final kick of the day was abseiling into the campsite!

Michael at the start of the abseil.

Anina entering the slippery corner, hindered by some intrusive shrub ...

Reto, Micheal and Anina enjoying themselves

Maggie abseiling perpendicular, Andreas having his first abseil ever, Marcel just doing another abseil in his career ;-)

Campfire in front of the caves. Splendid dinner (planned by Maggie, cheers for that) being prepared.

The next day brought some more bushbashing, but I reckon the most interesting encounter we had was when we came upon some hollow in the ground, spotting an indian tipi!

There was some hippie dude living here, and we could hear some country music coming out of the tent!

The end of the trail was a castle above Brittnau, this was however rather disappointing as having been extended by some ugly concrete building, yuck!
Good on all of you who joined this weekend, the organising committee dares to hope that you have mastered your maps and compasses by now! ;-)

Caching, Abseiling and River Crossing (23rd Feb 2008)

2008-02-23T22:28:00.006+01:00

Brilliant sunny day, but alas, this is on too short a notice to get someone to join me on a little biking and caching trip. Nae bother! Time for a solo trip!
I'm starting in Winterthur and after a first warm-up cache, bike up a hill towards a big tower, sporting some antennae of some sort. Looking for the cache first and then noting two dudes setting up ropes on the tower!

Awesome! I wanted to see some action, but there was none, as one dude showed the other how to abseil (about 3 metres of the ground). Boring!
I was having a closer look anyway, saying "Hey, this looks pretty good ..... erm, pity I haven't got my harness with me!", trying to sound a bit disappointed.

'No problem, you can have mine!', the instructing bloke said, adding
'Know how to work it?'

"Sure! That's great!"

I put on the harness, got up the tower, inspected the fastening of the rope and then clipped in and swung over the railing! Good stuff!
I was down pretty quickly, beaming: "Hey, thanks guys, that was way cool!!!"

'You wanna have another go?'

"Why, yes of course! I'll take a picture this time!"

Great! But now I had to bugger off, more caches were on my list.
I was just getting out of the forest when a police car crossed me, traveling uphill!
"Poor buggers!", I muttered, as I just could not shake off the feeling that they were going to the tower! Makes you wonder what people call the police, just because someone is ab'ing off some building in the middle of a forest! Honestly .....

A few more uneventful caches followed, hardly worth mentioning.
The last one was, however, a wee bit more adventurous. It was down in a gorge and I had descended on the wrong spot, leaving me 400 metres short of the cache. No way I was to bike up and around! Only one other option: travel upstream! I followed a gravel spit first, but then eventually had to cross the stream. I took off my running shoes (didn't fancy riding a bike with wet shoes and sit in the train afterwards ....) and waded across. Water wasn't too warm really, well, what can you expect at the end of Feb in the Northern hemisphere! Near the next crossing I came upon a dude doing some gold washing!

"Hey, you're getting anything out of here?"

'Haven't checked yet, there might be some', he replied a bit evasively.

"Uh, right ...."

Three or four crossings later I got to the cache, couldn't resist to take a timer shot of me fording the last stretch, meaning I had to set up the camera and then hurry back into the stream!

"Bugger this! That picture better be good!!!"

Brilliant afternoon with unexpected adventures!

Chörbsch Horn Ski Tour (17th Feb 2008)

2008-02-17T21:28:00.000+01:00

I had the dearest desire to test my brand new ski touring equipment.
Therefore I gladly accepted the invitation by Yves and Ladina to join them on a day trip above Davos. I got up early after a shortish night and sleepily made my way towards Davos, arriving there by train around 9am.
We took another train up to the Schatzalp (1861m) and started our way uphill.
I was not perfectly fit today, in fact, I could feel a cold coming, but despite that things were going splendid. The air temperature was getting high above zero in the sunshine and we sweated our way uphill.

Yves en route to the Strelasee.

We got onto a first broad ridge above the Strelasee where the SLF research team had been digging snow profiles. Here we had a first break, sitting on some yellowish grass that the wind had blown clean off snow.

We continued up to the Latschüelfurgga, a kind of pass that leads down towards Arosa.

Latschüelfurgga

The final approach to the top was along a ridge with hard snow and some grit that had been eroded from the windward side.

Yves approaching the summit.

The view from the Chörbsch Horn (2650 m) was very good and we had a bite before we got too cold in the breeze that seemed to have picked up since we arrived.

Us on top of the Chörbsch Horn.

The downhill was somewhat strenuous for me as I was not accustomed to free riding. I had some funny crashes, the best one involved me falling sideways on the downhill side, rolling over by back and getting onto my skies again!
We managed to ride all the way down into the valley (1550m), thus a good 1000 metres of descent. Not bad, but I was knackered and promptly down with influenza the very next day!