Een dag na de vakantie van meneer Hulot

Met het Alpine Mentor Programme was ik de afgelopen 2 weken in Canada. 

Inmiddels zijn Steve House en de rest van het team weer naar huis. 

Scott Backes en ik zijn er nog. 

En Scott wist wel wat hij graag nog wilde klimmen hier. 

Het lawine-gevaar en de ijs condities zijn niet erg goed deze week. Het weer is nogal omgeslagen na de twee weken dat we hier waren. Jammer, want er is nog zo veel te doen. Normaal rond deze tijd begint het Alpine klim-seizoen maar dit jaar het het nu alweer voorbij. 

Volgens een van de mentors (Raphael Slawinski) van het Alpine Mentor Programme zou het nog wel 'o.k.' zijn op de Stanley Glacier Head Wall. 

Een paar dagen terug heb ik daar samen met Raphael de route 'French Reality' geklommen. 

Dus, wij om 5uur 's ochtends onderweg. 

Met hoog lawine gevaar kan je maar beter vroeg zijn, en kost alles meer tijd dan normaal. Sneeuw lezen enz. 

Onderweg naar 'The day after Les Vacances de Mr. Hulot' (M7 R WI6) geopend door Francois Damilano en Joe Josephson als semi-aid route (M6 A2 WI6+) (Francois heeft de glace&mixte topo van Chamonix geschreven, en Joe de ijs topo van de Canadian Rockies) in 1997 voor het eerst vrij geklommen door Raphael. Zie hier meer over de routes aldaar: http://www.alpinist.com/doc/web07-08w/newswire-slawinski-stanley-headwall

Kei vette ski's met dank aan Steve & Steve

Met een par uur skiën stonden we aan de voet van de wand en moesten we nog een stuk aan touw lopen om bij het begin van de route te komen. 

Eigenlijk zagen we het hele begin van de route niet. 

Niet zo gek, normaal zitten er stukken ijs in de mixed route. Maar vandaag waren alleen de laatste twee pitches nog ijs. 

Sneeuw was er wel voldoende. Meer dan genoeg om alles te bedekken zodat je totaal niet kan zien waar de grepen zitten. 

Om het nog beter te maken zat er een dun laagje nat ijs-glazuur over de hele brokkelige kalksteen wand. Bijna Schots dus. Cam's die niet blijven zitten, en overal eerst een stukje ijs en rots weghakken voordat er een nutje in een spleet kan. 

Ik klom de eerste lengte. Officieel een 5.9 (5a) dus ongeveer M6 mixed. Alleen toen de route geopend werd zat er wel wat meer ijs in wist Raphael me te vertellen. 

Scott klom de tweede lengte 5.10 en wilde meteen de derde lengte er aan vast knopen. Hij klom op duo-points, wat ontzettend nadelig was in de technische route. Hij viel wel twee keer! Ondersteboven verloor hij 4 schroeven van zijn gordel. Gelukkig hield de zelf geslagen piton de val twee keer. 

Dus was het mijn beurt om het voor te klimmen. Ik had m'n bijlen en stijgijzers vlijmscherp geslepen en op de gladde, bijna onzichtbare randjes gaf dat een enorm voordeel. Ik snapte ook meteen waar de R (run-out) voor stond, want aan het einde van die touwlengte kon je totaal niks meer plaatsen. Als ik zou vallen zou ik terug vallen naar de standplaats waar Scott stond te zekeren. Fijn. Bij Alpine klimmen is er toch al de regel 'niet vallen'. 

Scott klimt de eerste touwlengte na. 

De volgende lengte is een korte traverse en dan een 5.9 schoorsteen. Weer normaal geklommen met een royale hoeveelheid ijs. Nu, speciaal voor ons: extra veel losse blokken. 

Ik klom weer voor, en klom tot ver in het ijs, zo'n 50m boven de vorige standplaats. Het ijs was slecht. Meer sneeuw dan ijs. Van dat ijs waar je je bijl in slaat en dat hij dan meteen een meter naar beneden schuift. En dan hetzelfde met je voeten. Ik klom net zo lang totdat ik een goed stukje ijs vond.

Onderweg vond ik een totaal uitgevroren ijsschoef in het ijs. Blij met de extra schroef maakte ik een standplaats met een piton en 2 schroeven onder een klein ijs-dakje. Scott met z'n duo-points klom de rest van de WI6. 

Nog 20m te gaan voor de rest van de WI5/6. Mijn beurt. 

Drijfnat kwamen we boven aan want eigenlijk vroor het niet meer... Een dubbele Abalakov en nog een paar abseils later stonden we weer onder aan de route. 

De ijsschroeven hebben we niet meer gevonden, die zijn voor de volgende gelukkige klimmer. 

Dit was de 7e keer dat deze route is geklommen sinds 1997 en ik ben de eerste vrouw die 'm klimt.

Door de natte sneeuw en dikke mist skieden we terug naar de auto. Bij de auto regende het. 

Volgens mij het het ijsklimseizoen over.

Nog 3 dagen drytoolen dan maar en dan weer terug naar Nederland. 

Eigenlijk heb ik wel zin in een beetje zon. Of regent het ook in Nederland?

Dit zouden ze ook in klimhallen in Nederland moeten invoeren.

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!

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Indian Creek, ultimate crack climbing

By Marianne van der Steen

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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)

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Alexander's Chimney, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado

By Marianne van der Steen

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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?

The Black

Ze Black.

The Canyon is Black, making it an area that (even if you don't know anything about climbing) could scare you by looking down in it.
The poison Ivy, bears and loose rock in the SOB* gully doesn't make it sound any better.
*SOB Gully: the 'path' you walk down to get to the start of the routes, SOB stands for 'son of a bitch'.

This area is our base for this weeks.
Training Alpine style climbing together with one of the greatest teachers I've ever had.

In my climbing I've always had many questions. "Is this okay what I do?" In all subjects; from nutrition to speed, efficiency, safety and all kinds of mental and physical things.
These weeks (and the coming years) I suddenly get the opportunity to challenge myself and learn to become the Alpinist of my dreams.

Unfortunately I'd not been feeling very well (having a cold...) so I didn't climb too much yet.
And today it's raining (yay...)

Hopefully more adventure in the upcoming days :)

Indian Creek

Indian Creek
a.k.a "Mama...*"
*....it hurts
* ....this is scary
* ....it's so hot here
* ....water, water, wat....

After a week of mental and physical challenging try-outs for the Alpine Mentor Programme I had a couple 'restdays'. Buster and I decided to spent these days in trad Sandstone area Indian Creek.
Indian Creek is a rare and special place located in the desert in Utah.
It's like you'd expect in a desert: dry, dusty and hot during the day and freezing nights.
At the local bivy/campsite we warmed ourselves at the campfire (thanks Steven).
On te day Buster was my personal crack climbing teacher.
He took me on a 5.10, a level I'd easily climb on French Limestone. Here I had no idea how to get my hands right inside the rock and even figured a head-jam was easier sometimes...
After a while I got a 'hand' of it and was proud to flash 5.11's!
Six routes on a day was my maximum for the first day. Bruises on my hands, forearms and up to my shoulders...
After a good night sleep in the dust and a real American breakfast I was ready for another day.
Proud to struggle my way up on 5.11+ and what looked like a 5.9 but turned out to be 5.10+...
Yet another amazing climbing day!
Now looking back on two amazing and intense climbing days. I'll never forget my first days in Indian Creek. When shall we go again? :)
Today we took a shower in Moab and drive on to the Black Canyon for four days of multipitch climbing with the Alpine Mentor Team in the Black Canyon.

Iceland, the last Summer days

Iceland only knows two seasons.
Summer.
and Winter.
The second just arrived this week calling the end of our holiday.

Snow arrived in the mountains

The last week we went from Hnappavellir to our next and maybe favourite Icelandic wall: Fjallastakkanöf.

View from our office

Left side of Fjallastakkanöf

Note the hexagon shaped block

We decided it was probably easier to walk by the side of the river on the far right side of the wall up to the top of the cliff and the traverse to the top of the Basalt wall.
It turned out to be a good choice.

We wanted to repeat Hangikjöt again. We placed a bolt on the cliff and back-upped the bolt with our second rope around some rocks on the top of the wall.
We placed a big cairn on top of the cliff to point the location of the route.
It was raining (again) today so Dennis drew a topo of the climb whilst I finished my woolen sweater (love/needed it with this cold weather)

New sweater :)

So here a description with the topo.

Hangikjöt

Hangikjöt.
An old AID route 'back in the time' Guðmunder Tómasson (pretty good photographer) and Guðmunder Helgi Christensen (known for his hard iceclimbs, and once been on the cover of Rock and Ice magazine)
Hangi literary means hanging, kjöt is the Icelandic word for meat. So, it's 'hanging-meat'. That's probably what they felt like when they were using the wall as training for 'the real thing' in Yosemite. Gummi told me it was cold, it took them a long time to figure how to be most efficient and it rained when they wanted to top out. They never topped out and the route has been there since then (early 90's)
Hangikjöt is also an Icelandic classic delicacy. To preserve the lamb meat over the winter time they salted, dried and smoked the meat an had it hang for weeks until it was dry, salty and very tasteful.
You can still buy this in every supermarket.

Smoked lamb legs

It's worth a try combined with a piece of 'flatbrauð and smjör' (classic Icelandic flat-bread and butter). Or as evening meal with green peas, boiled potatoes in caramel and beciamel suace. In Iceland often served at Christmas time.

On our way down the first time when it was still sunny

Drive from Reykjavík in the direction of Höfn. At about 55km from Hnappavellir and 55km from Höfn, just before the tiny petrol station 'Hestgerði' you find a parking with a sign that tells you to watch birds from here. On the parking there is a small picknick and a couple of info plates that tell you more about the area. When you look up straight you see a small rivere coming down from the cliff, at about 1km left and up you find the columnar Basalt cliff called 'Fjallastakkanöf'.

Easiest is to abseil into the route, so you see where the 'throw-up-birds' are and maybe clean out some more loose stuff (we cleand out loads though).
Those birds, Fulmar, have youngs nested on the cliffs. As defence those fluffy grey things throw up some kind of fish-acid out of their stomach. They really throw it, so even more then 1m away you still catch it... The acid stinks and tends to 'indulge' into your clothes. Even if you wash it out (try to...) it's stays smelly forever.

Dennis under the first pitch

Best is to climb the first pitch we call the 'dancing pillar' and make your first belay on the stainless orange coloured bolt (and back-up it with a BD .5 cam) on top of the small (1m higher then the first pillar) second pillar.
That fist pitch is definately the hardest.
It starts on where we made a small 'plateau' next to the end of the loose pillar (the last 1,5m is lying underneath the climb...) I climbed up in the right crack, placed some small stuff (smaller then BD .25) and balanced up to the underside of the pillar (fitting a yellow Wild Country Zero, and just some higher a yellow Totem). Then I lay-back to get my fingers 'stuck', and put my right knee on the crack with my right foot backwards to the right. My left foot tensioned on the wall facing to the left and my back logically leaning to the right of the crack. That way I could push myself up for quite some meters.
Then the crack gets wider fitting a purple, green and later even red and yellow cam. But, be careful:
once I placed the cams, I could start a bit of jamming. Once above the cam it all seemed to widen up and suddenly on the place where I had a purple cam it could now fit a green one (and so on).
At the top of the pillar I fitted a big grey cam, but later when Dennis climbed on and stood on top of the pillar he pushed off to get to the next hold. The whole pillar moved getting my foot and the cam stuck inside!
We guess this pitch is around 7a(+), but if you're tall/have tiny fingers it might be easier. (As always...)

The weird kneebar stuff

Still weird

Dennis seconding the first pitch

Second pitch, starts with yet another loose pillar, but not as long as the first one. You hold the left and right side of the thing, changing to the left side only when you get higher.
You end up on that pillar and then the work actually starts. Following the crack holding again the left and right for a couple moves, turning to the left side again later. Dennis could spread out with his feet to the left and right, I was just too small to reach.
You keep on following the left crack until it breaks up in small cracks and some blocks stuck inside forming small cracks of at about 30-70cm.
There you turn to the right, bit of jamming, bit of lay-back in size purple to red BD 1. up to the belay.
The belay is two solid stainless steel bolts and four aluminums bolts (that used to be there for a portalegde when it was an AID route). The two bolts are connected with a brownish piece of rope and a maillon that we hung there for the abseil.
This pitch is around 6c we guess.

Then you climb out on the right side where you can perfectly fit a purple .5 cam and just some higher  you find a rusty Bong.
Step 1m higher and traverse to the left, in the rock there is a thin piton, climb a bit more to the left and then follow the crack up(quite mossy, damp and dirty).
There are some loose blocks which make this pitch quite exposed. But your belayer stands to the right so is safe in case of rockfall. Climb 6-8m and there you find the first of four aluminium AID bolts. They're probably too corroded to hold any fall so it's safer just to place a cam in the crack. You'll need purple, red, yellow and blue (all double) for this crack. Safe one yellow one for the belay under the overhang.
Climbing out of the loose blocks into the fist (or arm) wide crack you can use a perfect kneebar to get higher.
From there you also find some strange horizontal cracks to hold on and step on next to the big hands/fist size crack.
Make your belay just under the small roof. One bolt has a steel hanger because we replaced an aluminium hanger, but it's still just a small 8mm bolt, secured with yet again a piece of brown rope. On the left of the belay you can fit a yellow, size 2 cam as backup.
This pitch is around 6b(+).

Dennis seconding the third pitch

Almost there

Now the last bit not long, but a bit scary at the top.
You climb into and out of the roof following the crack right of the belay. When standing on top of the blocks, traverse to the left for at about 2-3m, clip the piton on the way and place a good cam in the crack on the end of your traverse. Now climb straight up to end at the loose rocks/grass/moss/birds. And find an stainless orange bolt with a maillon, back-upped with an piece of orange rope that disappears under the cairn on the top of the cliff.
This is not really difficult climbing, but you 'must' climb. The small roof is really cool to climb I found :) At about 6a max.

We found this route better even then the classic first line on the wall called 'Orgelpipunar', located on the right side of the wall. It was opened by Doug Scott and some Icelanders showing him around on the island years and years ago.
Quite some people had tried the route but most (all?) bailed in the fist pitch
Orgelpipunar is graded as 5.10, but it's way, way harder then 5.10. Probably more like 5.11d on the first pitch.
The last pitch as a lot of unstable loose rock, more then in Hangikjöt.

Right of the route there is another old AID climb called 'Steinaregn' (stone-rain). We looked at it, but found it still a lot of stone rain.

Please, try this route here. It's just 90m so in a day you can do loads more then just this (if you have the right weather)
When we climbed it the rope was blowing up the cliff instead of falling down and our hands felt like we just climbed a proper ice route in winter time. (Hot eggs!)
The rain in the end didn't make it all easier either...

Yes, it was really cold

At the end of the day we bought icecream at the local farm (Brunnholl) and ate it in a hottub when the sun decided to show for the last time.

Moooh, under the cliff

The sign at the Brúnhóll farm

Icecream & hottub @Hoffell

Now the temperatures have dropped to almost zero and they won't get up again until next Summer...

Monkey is cold

Iceland Basalt pt. 5

Yes, I just did something utterly brilliant.
I accidentally deleted all new pictures and short movies from my iPhone before the transfer to my laptop was finished.

And as the iTunes backup wasn't finished either I lost all.
All super awesome pictures from the most beautiful wall are lost now.
Nothing of our ascents is left. (Great...)
Just these here which I hadn't deleted yet...
So no new movie about what we did last week :(

Okay, little summing:
opened new stuff, climbed old stuff, did some glacier ice, saw Iceland in bad weather: wind&rain and now chill out in Reykjavik as the weather is supposed to be best here (just a bit of rain and wind)

Now I forgot what the Sun looks like and dream about the loose pillar in Hangikjöt...

Time for some more climbing today and tomorrow. Gerðuberg is on the list. 

Iceland pt. 4 Sundlaugarparty

Yes, I already did it!
One of my missions in Iceland was to climb an old trad route in the climbing area Hnappavellir.
The route used to be trad, opened over 20 years ago in two pitches. It's on the tallest cliff in the area just over 30m in height.
It had been bolted a couple years ago. Re-opened, re-named and just a bit of text in the topo under the 'new' opener and name of the route reminds of the history of the route.
It's now called Sundlaugarparty, swimmingpool-pary (because of the big waterpool often to be found under the cliff).
After climbing it on trad I even figured tradclimbing the route is even safer then climbing it with the bolts. Some parts are quite 'spaced' bolted resulting in probably broken legs if you'd fall in the second crux... I remember being scared climbing it on bolts years ago and placing really long slings with draws to avoid the dangerous falls...
I'm happy I did it so easily.
After a while I also climbed the bolted route Djásn and tried another one but bailed because of the extremely spaced bolting...
Later we opened some new trad lines in the area.
Barad-dûr (5c) on a pillar that looked like the tower from Lord of the Rings.
Lundi (puffin) (6c) a beautiful bouldery route on rarely formed Basalt blocks.
And later we found Damocles Camping-fridge (6b) on the end of the Hnappavellir cliff.
See video's for more details of the climbs :)

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Iceland pt 3 Hnappavellir trad Svart Regn and Sundlaugarparty from Marianne van der Steen on Vimeo.

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Iceland pt 4 new trad routes around Gimluklett from Marianne van der Steen on Vimeo.

Iceland Summer 2012

Day one of our Iceland trip.We made it all the way,more then 1800km from France to Denmark. We're waiting for the boat and found a perfect spot to camp :)

In between running, sea-swimming, 'WWII-crimpin', 4WD Syncro driving and being bored because of the rain, we found some internet to upload some pictures of our trip.