Fit at the start and then it gets canceled :(

This evening was a romantic Dennis and Marianne evening.
As Dennis really struggles with all his bad luck and his injured leg, I thought it would be good to go out for dinner.
We discussed all kinds of things, like how nice the route Tomahawk is, and I wanted to see a picture.
Got on the internet and... all over Facebook, Twitter and other social channels: Worldcup canceled.
Nooooo!
I feel so fit, strong and super motivated!

The Rabenstein ice tower yesterday. Today theres even more snow. 

Herman, from the organisation, working hard to make a path to the ice tower. 

Rabenstein is a tiny place on the Italian- Austrian border between Ötztal and Meran.
It's always rough there in winter times but this weeks was more then usual. And this time it is more then just rough: 2m of fresh snow and more to come. Closing off the village and making it a hazardous place because of the avalanche danger.
The guys there were working super hard to get the roads free again. But, they're predicting more snow for the upcoming days, getting the avalanche danger to the highest level.
Logically for our own safety they had to cancel the event.

This week has been just for climbing:
With Saturday some new bolts on the Rubihorn Nordwand thanks to Daniel Gebel. Ritchi our roommate invited us to go with for a midday tour on the Rubihorn. I couldn't resist although I knew I was going to be on for three days more after that.
In the evening Roland arrived. He bought new iceaxes and needed to try them. I took some days off and went out.

It's quite overhanging there for Roland

Hanging out the toprope-gun ;)

That Sunday we climbed in Starzlachklamm. I taught him some tooling and skills but the M8 I hung out was still a bit too hard for him.
For my feeling is was (is?) quite an established alpinist and not a bad rock climber either. But this drytooling was different. Still we had fun.

We heard the classic Hangende Garten was very climbable at the moment. So it was easy to make the Monday-plan: Austria :)

Hangende Garten

Roland still getting used to his new iceaxes fiddled his way up the first pitch (WI3).

Roland on the first pitch.

I ran up and got ready for the real stuff. Thanks to our roommate we had a double 60m. rope. Enough to climb the WI6 and the WI5 all in once.

This WI6 is fun! 

I left a tiny bit of easy stuff in the end for Roland to lead.
"I would have placed more screws then those four" was the first thing he said when he came up.

Roland in the snowy last bit of the WI5

I just felt fine and the two abalakov-thread ropes on the way up looked fine as well. The route felt super easy but so fun to climb!
Satisfied we drove back to Germany.
Today we actually wanted to climb in Eptingen but logistically it didn't seem to work out well. Closer it seemed most places were missing the crucial ice so in the end it became Starzlach again.
Having dreamt of how to climb the seemingly impossible M12 I headed up. Without warming up I stepped into the route and got pretty far.

Hanging around, confused on how to stick the next moves.

Meanwhile Roland managed to climb M7 and got motivated for an M8. The M12 moves still seemed impossible! I felt rather defeated. How could these moves be so, so long?!
After a couple tries I decided a dyno would be the only option to finish the route. And so I did. Just barely hanging on I stuck the impossible move but not from the start of the route yet.
I came down and wanted to take some pictures of Roland in his climb and then I saw the text: "...hook is missing. I broke it about three weeks ago. I will drill something where it was."
Ah, so it was impossible after all.
Well good Worldcup preparations. Too bad the Worldcup is canceled now.
Time for a rest day. Time to get back to the real world: work.

Lijden is best leuk

Dag 12 van 14 met Alpine Mentors.

Het sneeuwde vanochtend. Min twee gaf de thermometer aan in ons Patagonia chalet in Chamonix.

De laatste weersvoorspellingen zeiden dat het de hele dag zou blijven sneeuwen en dat het erg koud zou zijn. 

My dream house, a.k.a the Patagonia chalet!

Alle locals zijn gevlucht uit Chamonix en klimmen nu in warmere oorden zoals Finale en Arco.

De locals die er nog wel zijn raden het af om omhoog te gaan met de lift.

Wij zijn er nog en besloten toch maar te gaan. 

Ik had er niet veel zin in. €50 voor de lift naar de Aguille du Midi is veel geld en dat voor een beetje harken en zwemmen in de 1,5m verse sneeuw leek me helemaal niks. 

Sjacherijnig zat ik te wachten op de eerste lift. Die uiteindelijk pas om 11uur ging. 

Ondertussen waren we een hele attractie voor alle toeristen; alle Japanners, Koreanen, Indiërs, en andere Aziaten wilden met ons oude foto. Ik heb er een hekel aan, dat toeristische gedoe, dus ik liep weg. M'n humeur werd er niet veel beter door. 

I'm not going to participate in this shit.

Boven op de Aguille du Midi gaf de thermometer -24 aan. Koud. 

De eerste stappen in de sneeuw waren diep en zacht. Tot m'n heupen zakte ik weg in de verse laag poeder.

Stap voor stap liepen we over de witte gletsjer richting het startpunt van onze route.

Ik had er nog steeds geen zin in. De route had ik al een keer gedaan en het ding was zo makkelijk dat ik het nu van een touw niet echt zag.

Just before the snow it already looked pretty white...

Aan het begin van de route werd het pas echt zwemmen. Diep gravend in de sneeuw kwamen we langzaam steeds hoger. 

Het was erg lastig om het juiste routeverloop te vinden door de dikke laag sneeuw. Aan m'n ijsbijlen had ik niet veel en m'n handen en gezicht werden koud van het opwaaiende poeder. 

Hoe hoger we kwamen hoe lastiger het werd. En de wind stak op, zoals voorspeld. Steeds harder stoof alle sneeuw om ons heen. M'n jas kon niet verder dicht en m'n neus werd steeds kouder tot ik m niet meer voelde en er ijspegeltjes aan m'n neus en wangen hingen. Bij elke ademhaling kregen we een hap sneeuw binnen en alles werd steeds kouder.

Ik had 3 broeken aan, 3 truien, muts, handschoenen en een waterdichte broek en jas. En nog was er koud. Tijd voor de donsjas.

Naast me stond iedereen ook te rillen. Ik was dus niet de enige die het koud had. 

Inmiddels begon de tijd te tikken. Alsof we in een 'time vortex' zaten vloog de tijd voorbij zonder dat we echt hoger in de route kwamen. Nog 45min voor de laatste lift naar bededen. Als we die niet zouden halen zouden we boven op de berg moeten overnachten. Gelukkig zijn er verwarmde wc's om in te overnachten als nood, maar ik lig toch liever in een echt bed.

Nog ging alles langzaam. Iedereen was koud. Opeens was ik er klaar mee. F*** dat touw, ik ga wel zonder. 

Bijna rennend ging ik omhoog. Ik werd warmer en zelfs het lastige stuk voelde makkelijk aan. Anderen volgden mijn voorbeeld en al snel stonden we boven. "Cinq minute" hoorde ik omroepen. Nog 5 minuten voor de laatste lift naar bededen. Nog niet iedereen was er. Sommige klommen nog wel met touw...

We renden naar de lift. Gooiden onze spullen erin, renden weer terug om de laatste twee van ons team (van 5) omhoog te zeulen.

Net op tijd voor de laatste lift.

Downtown snow at Chamonix

Vandaag weer een dag...dag 13. 

Bijna aan het einde van onze trip. We voelen ons moe maar super geacclimatiseerd. 4000m hoogte doet niks meer met ons lichaam.

Bovenop de verse 1,5m is er een nieuw pak gevallen van 40cm.

Vanaf de Helbronner (Italiaanse kant) hebben we ons een weg over de gletsjer gegraven. Eigenlijk meer een tunnel dan een pad. Het waaide zo hard dat na 5min het pad weer verdwenen was in de verse poedersneeuw. We klommen een 'mixed' route. Rots en een dun laagje ijs. Voorzichtig klom ik omhoog. Dit was in de zomer super makkelijk. Zelfs iemand met nauwelijks klim ervaring kan er dan omhoog komen. Met -20, een dikke laag sneeuw en een flinterdun laagje ijs was de route moeilijker dan de Noordwand van de Eiger (alleen wel korter). En dan was er de constante wind die de sneeuw om ons heen blies en me regelmatig uit balans bracht. Afzekeren was lastig, want de nuts, pitons en cams bleven nauwelijks zitten in de ijzige spleten...

Het weer was veranderd van helder en winderig in stormachtig met sneeuw. We zagen letterlijk onze eigen voetstappen niet meer achter ons. Met kaart, kompas zochten we een weg terug naar de hut. Regelmatig vielen we in de nu onzichtbare gletsjerspleten en zwommen we weer omhoog. Onze gezichten waren bevroren, stap voor stap kompas recht vooruit kostte het ons 3uur om weer bij de hut uit te komen...

Na 10uur 'suffering' waren we weer terug bij de hut. Alles was koud en m'n gezicht was zó pijnlijk. Ik wou dat ik een baard had, dan kon al het ijs in m'n baard blijven zitten in plaats van op mijn schrale wangen.

The beard I need to be a better Alpine climber ;)

En toch denk ik eigenlijk denk ik dat ik dat lijden wel leuk vind.  Hoe harder ik er voor moet werken hoe meer voldoening het geeft als je weer terug bent.

Morgen de laatste dag. Zó veel geleerd en met zulke bijzondere mensen geklommen. Het weer zat niet echt mee, ik had gehoopt moeilijkere dingen te kunnen klimmen, maar met zó veel sneeuw is dat gewoon onmogelijk.

Toch morgen weer. 

Canada Alpine Ice adventure.

As climber it's always hard to find enough money within time.
(Or enough time within the money)
I was lucky enough to find a very very generous sponsor that could pay my ticket to Canada this Spring.
And when everyone is hunkering for sun and flowers, I extended my iceclimbing Winter to the Rockies.

With real Alpine boots and real Americans.
@Houston intl. Airport.

We're here with a whole team. The Alpine Mentors team.
Steve House created all this, but the idea is that we as climbers actually have the mountains to create our dreams.
Together with Buster, Colin, Steve and Steven we'd now spent 11. days around the Alpine ice in the Rockies.
We started 'easy' with a long hike to 'The Sourcerer' and with every day we start to get a better idea of our capabilities, needs and weaknesses.

Routefinding in The Ghost with 'The book of Sandbags' 

The Sourcerer

Buster on the last pitch of The Sourcerer

Me on the last pitch of The Sourcerer

One of the things, what hardly any climbers-group ever does (for as far as I know) is review and discuss after every climb.
It's a brilliant way to make a group work together and understand each other better. And we learn so much!

And thats the whole idea. Learn, learn to climb Alpine. Not just for now, but making it possible to grow and create new objectives.

How to cook dinner...

Jezus...

The big 'souvenir' I found in backpack when I got back home...

Morning glory in the burned forest. On our way to the Stanley Glacier Head Wall

Steve Swenson on the first pitch of Nemesis at the Stanley Glacier Headwall.

The view from Mt. Athabasca (Steve Swenson)

Last week we were at the Columbia Icefield to climb on Mt. Andromeda, Mt. Athabasca and more.
On our last day it didn't really go as planned though...

Our hostel. Actually Rempart Creek hostel was even 'better'. 

Uh oh...

On our way to 'Practise Gullies'  

Steve House and Buster on the third pitch. Practice Gullies.

View from the top of Mt. Andromeda

Interesting rappel...

How we spent our restday: pizza, beer, guidebooks and inspirational movies.

With the weather changing and spindrift getting worse, it took us too long to climb a fairly simple route called 'Astroid Alley'. I got so, so cold waiting on the belays, getting all the snow over me that I shivered for the rest of the day (and night).
It too us even that long that the rest of the team got worried and started a search for us.
When we arrived at the moraine at the start of the glacier, all three others were there, ready to climb up to us...
I learned a thick softshell or hardshell pants work better in spindrift conditions (when you have to wait for more then 2,5 hrs on an anchor) My climbing buddy learned he should climb more regular on this terrain to gain enough speed and our other climbing buddy learned that 5.9 in a guidebook actually might mean M7, and that aiding it takes a long time.
We woke up at 6 in the morning. Started climbing around 9-ish, I got cold around 4-ish and before we knew it we were at the moraine again at 4-ish in the night and 6 in the Morning was the time we finally went to bed...
But: the climbing was good!

Colin and Steve Swenson seconding. Astroid Alley.

Follow on on Twitter @alpinementors and Facebook/Alpine-Mentors

Woooolf! 

Intense

Happiness, pain, hard work, long days, amazing views, heat and cold, rough hands, beautiful people and in the middle of that circle... me?
Really?

Last month I was in Colorado.
For the first time in the States.

As an European I had my ideas on how it would be. Fat people, nationalism, weird expressions on freedom and the immense landscapes.
I saw it all but didn't experience it in the way I'd expected.
It was better, much better.

Already on my arrival, when I asked for directions on how to get to Boulder people were kind, friendly and they had humor.
"So I don't need to change" - I said when the guy at the tourist office told me what bus to take to Colin's house. I dragged the big bag on my shoulders and another one in my hands. Sweat on my forehead.
"No" he said. "You should stay the way you are."
Totally jetlagged and tired of the long trip it took me quite some seconds before I understood what he meant.

I texted Colin that I was at the busstation.
He picked me up with his green car and welcomed me in his climbers house.
Climbing video on the TV screen, climbing gear in the livingroom, a dirty bathroom and the average forearms were bigger then my fat calves.
Guess I felt home already.
I wasn't offered any time to rest. The first thing we did was discuss where to go the next day and what to do before the start of the try-outs.

We visited Eldorado, drytool-Vail and then drove to Ouray.

Curious, excited and nervous I stood there the next morning.
The full moon kept me awake that night and the idea that there were bears around got me excited (wanted to see one sneak around!)
Bryan, one of the advisors for the program, arrived first. No-one of the group actually knew what to say, how to act. Insecure as we were there on that first day. We hardly knew each other (met almost every one with the dinner at Steven's place the night before).
We joked around "we should make a t-shirt that says 'Steve's team'" or "let's get 6 fat kids out of town to show up here".
But then Steve arrived, we almost wanted to 'salute' him, but we didn't.

The week was filled with all kinds of things. We went sportsclimbing on the first day, did a scramble/multipitch on the second, learned new rescue techniques (thanks Vince) did Mount Sneffels (Snæfell) and drytooled too. In the evenings we presented our Alpine expedition ideas and reflected on the days.
The six of us became a close team in less then a week time.

Colin Presenting his Alpine ideas

Yodel arete

The six of us, l. to r. : Steve, Buster, Braden, Kevin, Colin, me and Steven

But two had to go...
A team of six (actually seven) is hard to mentor. You'd have to split yourself in two (or three) I guess.
So eventually four of us were allowed to go on after this try-out week.

I woke up in the night, the moon still bright and big. Still no bears around.
I was out, I thought. I must be. Shit.
Totally disappointed for all the reasons I'd made up in my head I woke up in the cold that morning.
I liked our team, it motivated me, inspired me and I really didn't want to leave.
I my head I was already making plans on what to do and where to go. Yosemite?
And although it's one of my dreams to climb there it didn't look as beautiful as being here with all those super enthusiastic climbers.

We all had a personal talk with Steve again that morning. And I was in!
I'm in, in, in! Am I? Oh, yes, what a relief! And at the same time: oh, my, I'm going to go climbing with Steve and the team for TWO years. This is... (my brain made little spin-loops) amazing!

Time for some restdays after this intense week.

Buster, one of the climbers was planning of going to Indian Creek for a couple days.
Steven would work and Colin too.
So. Indian Creek it was.
I heard about the place, knew that all Europeans that went there got so confused and could hardly climb 6a's.
Funny thing: I expected to only climb Alpine stuff this month and didn't even take shorts and then I suddenly ended up in the Utah desert.
Driving to 'the Creek' was a sweet sight-seeing trip for me. We saw sandstone arches, the real Colorado landscape and life and Newspaper rock was beautiful!

↵ Use original player

Indian Creek, ultimate crack climbing

By Marianne van der Steen

Vimeo

• SD

← Replay

X

i

Indian Creek, ultimate crack climbing from Marianne van der Steen on Vimeo.

The campsite was really dirtbag. Really: Campfires, dust, beer and bad guitar players in the freezing darkness.
The next morning it was time to climb. Buster, local in the Creek smoothly guided me around the best climbs.
The first we did was a nameless 5.10 that felt like hard 5.11 for me as European.
Headjamming felt better then handjamming and although the sandstone was perfectly shaped I always took the wrong cam to fit...
The only crack experience is my local place called 'Ettringen'. Short Basalt climbs in an old mining area in Germany. It wasn't the first time I stuffed my fat fingers in the rock, but this was so different!
After a while I got a hang on it and started to get addicted to the climbing style.
Suddenly I could imagine why people would spent their whole life on climbing in this harsh dusty desert.
After two climbing days my hands felt sore but good and it was time for the next adventure.

The Black Canyon

With a group of five we'd climb ten (TEN!) days in the Black Canyon.
The Black Canyon is a mythical place. If it would be in Iceland I'm sure there would be big Goblins and Trolls living under the big river boulders.
But here we only found poison ivy and loose rock.
The gneiss and schist is old, oxidated and worn by the strong water and it's filled with white pegmatite dikes.
First the walls look small, until you reach the lowst, darkest point at the river and suddenly realise that the little stream you saw from the viewpoint is a violent white river... And thats where you start your climbs.

This doesn't actually mean you'll get a rescue when it's getting dark :)

Buster, Colin, Steven, Steve and I were going to be the team.
We were going to be each others teachers, mentors, climbing buddies and friends.
Goal was not to climb the hardest of the Black, but become efficient, get to know new techniques and systems, be fast through using the right systems and route finding skills.

The weather-Gods gave us just a couple climbing days before the rain started...
We bailed, went back to Ouray/Ridgeway and drytooled with our local guide Steven... in the rain.

The ground was still wet when we went back for yet another week of intense climbs.
Steve was totally high on coffee when he arrived that morning. We were all still sleeping...

This week I was dragged out of what I call 'my comfort zone'. I was feeling better, the cold almost disappeared, and my mind found that my body should train harder.

So we got into Astrodog.
The idea was to do a link-up with another route to get to the top of the Canyon again.
I felt slow, insecure on the strange granite, I was cold and was far from fast. I felt disappointed in my own achievements before I even started on leading. Ashamed for my bad climbing results my mind started to give up on me. Just as usual.
My head is my weakest climbing parter, weaker then my pumped forearms, weaker then my hungry stomach, weaker then my dehydrated body. Weaker then the worst cam I ever placed.
When my mind tries to get involved, thats when I get out of my comfort zone.
And the request for getting out of that comfort zone worked, I got totally out of it... (Thanks Mind for helping out...Thanks for nothing...)
And then we realised it was getting dark. The sun coloured orange on the other side of the Canyon making the shades to become big monsters and finally it all turned into silence.
We had to go down. Now.
Rapidly we build an anchor, left a cam, abseiled down, pulled the rope, abseiled another pitch and another. And... Stuck.
The rope got stuck.
The sky turned black, the moon that accompanied me in the start of the trip had disappeared.
It was just us now and our tiny emergency light.
Steve climbed up in the darkness, miraculously fixed the rope and got down again.
We pulled, and pulled, and pulled, and...Stuck, again?!
We pulled the wrong end...
There we went again, down another pitch, and another...Stuck. Again.
Buster prussiked his way up and down.
We prepared our abseil gear all together with the light, in the darkness we were dragged onto the cold rock until one of us found the next belay.
Meanwhile we were in contact with base-camp through our little radio's.
The rope got stuck twice more before we were finally down. Down in the poison ivy.
There we searched for our bags, lights and food.
Now the Tyrolean, the river and the Cruise Gulley...
That Gulley is meant to walk/abseil down, not to 'cruise' up. We climbed up the two fixed ropes, avoided all poison ivy and loose rock.
Around midnight we arrived at the campsite. Steven and Colin prepared pasta. I never drink beer, but this one, with the pasta was the best I'd had for a very long time :)

The next day was a restday.

Buster and Steven enjoying the restday

But it was not over yet.
Colin had still one route to do, and me too. The longest rock route in Colorado.
The Southern Arete on the Painted Wall.
A challenge again. Not too hard. I thought. Until Colin said "you make it look like it's an 5.13".
Apparently I was still not used to this typical gneiss chimney climbing and got myself pumped in an 5.9
Great. I'll climb the scary traverse, you can do the chimney here :)
I was lucky, I climbed the beautiful finger crack at the end of the route!
Strangely my mind started to bug me again. The loose block at the end made me feel insecure. I was afraid to drop one on Colin whist leading and asked him to take over for me. Asking it made me feel weak, can't I even lead an easy 5.6 anymore (hello mind?!)
In the darkness we walked back to the campsite. We found big deer bones on our way through the bush and found it hard to get back to the hiking path.

Colin climbing the beautiful crack at the end of the Southern Arete

Every evening we had a campfire. Hot chocolate or tea and good discussions about how to improve all we did.
Steve referred to his own mentors and his time in Slovenia.
He told us "climbing is 80% mental."
Maybe even 90% if you just take the Black Canyon climbing or Alpine climbing.
I'm sure my climbing success is depending on my mind. Hard.
And maybe thats also why climbing is such a beautiful thing.
Climbing for me is a combination of many different elements. If those elements all all in the right direction then climbing is perfect. It feels perfect, looks perfect, sounds perfect...
Although my mind wasn't perfect, my body, the surroundings, the new friends I now have, the climb, the rock, the food, the air, the... just everything felt super good.
Especially us five as a team felt super good. All, Buster, Colin, Steven, Steve are original and special individuals all with different strengths. That combined was, as to say in American English; awesome.

And that climbing feeling made this one of the most intense trips I've ever made.

All I learned, felt, experienced this month are things I'll keep with me for my whole life. And I feel that is going to happen again, for the next two years. Two years for a lifetime. That is just worth anything.
It almost feels like love, maybe it does feel like love. Uhhhh, yes...butterflies in my heart, is that the same annoying itchy butterfly that I sometimes feel in my tummy?
Hey there you butterfly, shall we fly together for these two years?

...and what about after those two years?
Then I hope to create those butterflies for others, so we can pass on our new experiences and keep the Alpine Mentor Programme for many next generations to come.

Thanks Steve.




After that last day we said goodbye (...so how do you say goodbye?)
Buster and I went on for a couple days. Visited Rifle, Estes Park (Windy Mountains National Park) and  then Colin texted: Alexander's is in.
On my last day in Colorado I got little stars in my eyes and swung my axes in the ice like my life depended on it. Oh, what a good feeling to hold my babies. (read: Nomic iceaxes)

↵ Use original player

Alexander's Chimney, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado

By Marianne van der Steen

Vimeo

• SD

← Replay

X

i

Alexander's Chimney, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado from Marianne van der Steen on Vimeo.

On the airport I had tears in my eyes, if there was anything wrong the lady at the customs asked me. Buster answered for me as my throat was filled with a big concrete block.
No, there was nothing wrong, it was all just good. Too good.
When can I go again?

Alpine Mentor Programme

Tomorrow I'll fly all the way to Denver to meet a group of very enthusiast alpine climbers.
Im selected to be part of the Alpine Mentor programme coordinated my famous climber Steve House.
I've no idea what to expect (loads of alpine stuff probably).
So I'm extremely excited!
And confused, as my we have to move out of our amazing mansion next month and I haven't found anything new yet.

The video (Ginat)

Altitude is a bitch, especially when you're Dutch

There I am again, back in 'the low lands'. After a big weekend in the real mountains (Chamonix).

I was fed up by being here, no climbing, no ice, no mountains. Just work. I needed to go out and I was reaaaally missing Dennis. He's doing is traineeship at Petzl right now and is living in France for half a year. (Really cool but sometimes France feels like a 'million miles away')

Then I was thinking... I'm working as freelancer so I can climb more and that's why I'm working. So...I should go out and climb as much as possible.

The possibility was there, right there. It just included some money and time. (Time enough and I didn't bother the money).

So suddenly on Wednesday I was climbing in the Netherlands and on Thursday I was on my way to France.

I met Dennis in Crolles. He already took off from work and I met him in style: Dennis driving his home/van.

We both felt weird, happy and yet after two seconds it already felt 'normal' again to be together. Though cute as it sounds, I had those tiny little butterflies in my stomach again :)

We did some 'Alpine-climbing-shopping' (candy bars and other food that contains loads of fat, sugar and other types of instant bulk-energy) and went for the drive to Chamonix.

We didn't even make it half-way. We enjoyed the sun (is was over 20 degrees in Grenoble!) too much. Dennis even started to show freckles already ;)

We drove on the next day, went for a pit-stop in the Decathlon store (where I heard Tania passed her Winter/ice guiding exams! I hope the cake was good ;)

We took the cablecar up to the high point at Argentiere. To skie down again (sort of). With backpack on this steep snow it was quite hard for me. I sort of managed to get down the slope happy that only climbing lay ahead of us for the next day.

We dug a snow-hole just under the route. Just deep enough to avoid hitting the crevasses.

It was quite cold but allright when I finally fell asleep.

I slept quite light but we both didn't hear our alarms that morning! One hour late we started on the route: The Ginat/Jackson.

The first bit was just snow digging. Easy enough to do without a rope. We dug ourselves a way up and were quite okay I found. On a certain point I guessed it would be better to use a rope so we wouldn't drop off the whole cliff if something would go wrong.

We both didn't question the use of a single string of the rope and just climbed on.

We went slower and slower fighting the altitude. The weather started okay. Cloudy but the later it became the more fog came in and eventually it was snowing.

The climbing was surprisingly easy and just seemed to go on for ages. In the start there was a small mixed section and then the big icefield.

That icefield seemed to go on for ages! It felt like a never ending story.

I really had to motivate myself to move: okay, just 5 steps more and then you place a screw... and then after those five steps I said to myself 'just 5 steps more'. And finally it were 15 steps before I placed the next screw. And then 100 steps again. Or 105, or 110 and then with 115 I was proud enough to place another screw.

I was slow, but Dennis probably felt even worse. On the start of the Jackson variant of the Ginat Dennis told me he wanted to go down.

Okay.

No choice. Just go down now.

Not that I felt good at the height. I was tired after just moving to axes :) So going down was an okay option.

We abseiled over the route and were just able to find the belays and abalokovs. Even our own newly made ones disappeared every time again in the huge spindrift (including ice and rocks) that came down every minute or three.

Sometimes I just had to put my axes in the ice again to keep myself stable because of all the snow coming down over the route.

Dennis got his on his cheek by a big piece of ice. Resulting in a beautiful bloody 'egg' on his face. We got used to the ice hitting our arms and legs and the look of the snowman abseiling next to me.

Beneath us there were two Swiss climbers going up still. When we were down again (without getting our rope stuck or failing belays or dropping gear/headlamps) we saw that they went back too. The soloist we met under the cliff didn't even start his climb...

We packed our bags and skied down the Argentiere glacier and the (horrible) piste on the other side.

For me it was quite hard to get down. I really had to go slow to be able to keep control and not disappear in a crevasse or drop down the hill. I just need to learn how to ski... But for my fifth time on ski's and with the backpack I found I managed quite allright.

Down in Argentiere we were both just tired. I was wondering why we bailed. Really it was just the height :) Altitude is a bitch... How much that stuff can affect your climbing. Note-to-self: try to acclimatise before trying things on 3000m+

In the end it was all love for the both of us: nice to hold the axes again and get freezing cold hands, two sleepingbags in a cold snow-hole, both closed up so we could hardly hear each other, running belay-climbing so we hardly saw each other and we got so tired that we bailed. How romantic! Let's go again this week!

Thanks Dennis for the climbing :)

Pictures: Dennis & me on the climb, ascent and descent.

Home...in the flat country

After one 8a, some ED/ED+, hard boulders, long walks a 1/2 marathon offroad, loads of pasta&tomato sauce, many Alpine roads and 2 months without a shower...we're back home again.

But not after a quick stop in Kandersteg (sportsclimbing, mountain running and drytooling in the sun -yes, drytooling is a sport for all year round- ) and later a stop in Ettringen.

Yestderday was so hot that it was impossible to climb. Which made us go for a swim instead. Laacher see it was. After all this sitting, driving and baking in the sun I decided it was time for a bit of movement. A bit became a lot and became a test. Wondering how fit I actually was (I noticed I could run uphill for 50 mins on 1200m height without getting tired and doing an offraod mountain run for 1:10hrs without getting any muscle-soreness or sore knees)

So how far could I run on a warm evening? It became 27km in less then 2 hours. All offroad in the hills around the Laacher See. It's not advisable to try this when you didn't eat enough and forgot to drink the regular amount of water you need on a day... Though, I did. Next is of course to run a marathon, offroad in the mountains :) Which is 'nothing' if you compared it to what runners with the Mont Blanc ultra-trail will run this week.

This morning it was cold enough to try climbing. Around 8 in the morning we had our warm-up and around 12 we had to leave because of the pressing humid heat.

In between we climbed quite some things including 'magical project' Mut der Verzweiflung. I tried this route before and once I knew how hard it was and that it had never been climbed by a woman (at that time, now it's been climbed by German local Melanie). I'm not so good in 'tempering myself' so nervous as I was every time I'd get upon the route I just failed. Getting scared, pumped, unfocused, basically just far too nervous to climb it...

But now after a Summer full of trad (7a on 3000m height) I was just far too fit to miss out on this 'simple-almost-below-sea-level-climb-on-a-hill-instead-of-a-3000m-heigh-mountain'.

I toproped it as warmup and 'walked' through all the moves with surprising ease. And I knew I had to get on lead. Nervous. Shit. Trembling, shaky on my legs even before I made any move. I got pumped after 2 moves. Shit.

I belayed Dennis, went for a walk with him (he knew I got nervous...too nervous to climb...) and ate a waffle, drank some water and relaxed.

Ready this time.

I climbed it, had the right locks on the right places and even had time to relax and shake my arms. Not that I got pumped, it's just a habit: Chalk up, shake, look, chalk, shake, move, look, move, shake, climb, chalk, shake, chalk, move...I'm a slow climber.

But I did it. Gear on the right place and never scared, pumped or in trouble. So cool, it felt like climbing 6b!

I have to say, this is so much easier then 7a trad in a long long multipich :) Officially Mut der Verzweiflung is graded as 7b/7b+. I'm not so good in grading routes. I'd guess it's more a 7a. But thats just because it went so easy right now. Guess I'm fit :)

Now, home again, I have to work again. Earn some money and go out again as soon as possible!

Here the three last movies of the 'Summer climbing trip 2011'.

Chamonix/Petit Dru and more

Sometimes you just neeeed a restday.

Like one we needed today. Good weather, clouds in the mountains, bit of rain in the morning. Perfect for a restday.

We washed in the public toilets this morning, posted the usual cards to our families at home and now enjoying coffee in internet café 'Enjoy' in Chamonix.

Dennis is still at our 'home' reading a book about the history of the SAS (nice book it is, full of adventure and real stories)

The reason for this restday was the following adventure:

Petit Dru, Américaine Directe.

Dennis told me about the route Roeland never stopped talking about the thing, I know Jelle wants to climb it and we...well, we tried :)

Mission was to do a ground-up onsight attempt in a day. I had the honour to try and onsight all the difficult pitches (6a-6c/7a/7a+) We started quite late, but that was good, we figured later. It was cold, all water was frozen, even the little melting streams in the route were frozen. Later we met two experienced climbers who were forced to go down because of frostbite (they started too early, around 4 o clock)

We managed to get all the way to the big block, which is 21 rope lengths (following the English topoguide) We had to wait for two who were struggling in the next pitches. A good rest was welcome, but took us quite some time. We lay in the sun, warming up our frozen toes, fingers and water. Thirsty as we were, but we had to wait for the snow to melt...

Dennis was tired, I was tired but I wanted to do my mission: onsight the two hardest pitches of the route. So we went up, a short V up to a little bloc and then it started. A finger crack that first started with a chimney struggle behind a stuck flake. I struggled, go so out of breath because of the height but made it all the way to the belay in the middle of the long corner. Happy, tired, thirsty, hungry, one hard pitch to go! Dennis struggled his way up, carrying the little backpack and the tagline. We had to wait again for the party in front of us, but it was welcome, again. And there I went again. I screamed, tired, pumped, out of energy, and when I finally had a good fingerlock I just couldn't hold on anymore! My arms were so tired. Shit, no, fuck, kut, no I cursed to myself and had to let go. I failed! Al that climbing and then failing there! Damn!

I lost all my motivation there for a second.

It was late already, we'd had to abseil in darkness and, because I didn't do what I came for we decided to go down. We abseiled, got our rope stuck in some shit (nasty!!) got the rope stuck again, and again and finally got down...It was 12 o clock already, time for an evening meal: 'chicken with herb'. And at that time all food tastes like a four Michelin star meal.

We slept till 9 in the next morning, ate our porridge and some cereal bars and went down, over the moraines, through the swamp, and then stopping every 2 metres to eat blueberries.

We only have 10 days left. Hopefully the weather will stay good enough to try this route again or any other beautiful line.

Tomorrow rain and thunder in the forecast so time for sportsclimbing.

Pictures: Dennis & me on the Dru (sorry, couldn't flip the pictures...)