Bergers of Middlesbrough

Well I found this old photo of my grandpa, his front middle, with his brother Jim sitting behind with the natty scarf. The two other lads are unknown, but almost certainly Bergers of Middleborough, a select gang of climbers that during 1938 to 1942 have their deeds recorded in the Bergers climbing diary, which sits, only a few feet from my very presence, as I type. It’s fascinating, and has helped me survive this somewhat arduously boring offshore trip. To think these people have paid me hard working wages to read, and in many cases re-read, the annuals of time of the Clan Berger is beyond a simply mans dreams!
When I get back, week Wednesday I will be ever present for follies on the rock, high up there on priorities, as well as tending to the every need of Kjæreste Siri.

Bergensteigern - Mountaineers

For ages now I have been trying to read the hand written climb club diary of the Bergensteigern climbing club from Middlesbrough. It is a collection of minutes from a climbing club my grandpa was a founding member off. It’s a record of events between 1938 and 1942. It wonderfully naive, simple. Just young men getting out on the rock. They never talk about work, just getting out on the hill, and joke merrily between them. They all have nicknames and make up feuds between each other, which are never real but need settling with beer or climbs. You have to read between the lines to see the true story. But underlying the climbing is a more sinister landscape, one which they don't understand, and why should they, after all they didn't know Hitler was about to start a war. Recorded in the minuets of this old and tired diary, you see a sudden realization; people can't make it to climbing weekends due to air raid duties. A tardy meeting is held, as they are tired after spending the night in the shelters, and food and petrol are rationed. In a time of internet and fast information it all looks so naive, but they just didn't know what was happening. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, if you already know the future.

Turtigrø fortsatte...

During my brief visit to Turtigrø high camp I had the opportunity to see a few talks, one such talk was by this Norwegian climbing team that climbed in the Himalayas, on a mountain called the Great Trango... How exciting... The talk was, well quite impressive, but mainly about logistics and some in jokes. The whole thing was marred by a continuous stream of people walking into the room, sitting, realising something and then leaving. At the end of the talk I was left impressed by the commitment of these guys as it took ages to get up, something like 30 days! how much was spent on the wall... well I just don`t, but long. Another thing that got me was, they didn`t have many photo`s of climbing, just aid climbing. At the end some guy in the audience piped up, "So why didnt you free climb it?" This kind of left the person giving the talk a bit stumped and he just shrugged his shoulders, and made some excuses, like it was cold, and at altitude etc. The man piped up again, it wasnt that cold during the day and other people climb this sort of thing free....

This sort of thing would never happen in the UK... or may be not...

After Haukelister I was buoyed up for some more topptur action, and so headed of to Hurrungane fjells which lie in the SW part of the Jotunheimen. These are Norways alpine mountains and have a very short summer and winter season. The summer is short, because it snows a lot, and the winter is long, but short in human terms as the roads are closed for most of the winter, and really only open after Easter. This is May, and both roads from the famous Turtagrø Hotel, one to Øvre Årdal and the other to Lom where closed due to snow. This left the road from Sogndal open, which is handily for me as this is the road people from Bergen use! Due to the bad weather forecast most sensible people didn’t go, or should I say as it was pointed out to me, the good people from Bergen didn’t turn up. Those that did, a mix of hardened toppturers, sponsored celebrities, seasoned hardened ski festival drinkers (in smart looking never used in anger ski gear) and me were hell-bent on doing something but quite what is often mystery… I have to admit I don’t like these ski festivals, mainly because… I can’t ski downhill very well, but that’s not the truth, I can, well kind of, but what I don´t like is the whole thing, its just not what I call going to the mountains. There is quite a lot of being seen, and being seen to do the right thing at the right time, and there is loads of heavy drinking…. Anyway to the skiing, the weather was not good, well not good for me, as the visibility was poor, and I just don’t like skiing down new slopes with poor vis, but I did go out and drag my body up hill and then return at a leisurely Jamie sort of pace. It was fun, but on Saturday night at eleven, while the revellers revelled, to the current trendy tunes, I had had enough and pulled away and went for a walk on my own. I just find the heavy drinking to much, and all the being seen. I´m getting old, but to be honest I have felt this way all my life… Not sure I will go back, but will but with mates and not hang about a Turtagrø or as I like to call it Turd-a-grø!

Røldal – Topptur

Over the weekend Anti and I went to Røldal for some topptur or what we Brits call Ski-mountaineering! We drove from Bergen on Saturday in the r ain, and this continued till we got to Røldal! I was not impressed but I was with the valley or dale running up from Odda. I remember how beautiful this valley was when I first visited Norway on my motorcycle in 2004. This place is truly magical, and the somewhat decaying industrial town of Odda somehow seems to this in really well. Its quite an amazing town, it has this very fine old part with wooden buildings and then this huge industrial estate right in the middle and for what I can see its decaying with all these cranes smashing it apart. You drive above this town, to this lack, which is surrounded by just amazing waterfalls (Ice climbing alarm! Beeb beeb!), huge rock walls (Rock alarm! Beeb! Beeb!), and endless boulders (bouldering alram! Beeb! Beeb!). Its just great! We didn’t actually stay in Røldal but in a DNT hut called Haukeliseter, which is right by the road, and has a restaurant and café. It also had a sauna with a huge glass window in it so you could sit and go wow and ooughh! Also a hot tub!

Anyway Anti and I went for a wee Topptur, but as it was raining I was running low on get up and go, so begrudgingly went. We had no map or clue what we where getting into. At first it was flat, but we then started climbing up, I dug some snow pit ad waffled on about how I would not like to be on a convex, followed by concave slope to day in large numbers. There was loads of avalanche debris around, but thankfully old, so we carried on, it started to get really steep, and we both started making noises about it being steep! So we topped out, and both decided not to ski back down what we had flogged our way up! And made the dreaded mistake off looking for another decent, without a map, weather deteriorating and visibility starting to fad! This was bid mistake, as the ground suddenly became very steep, so I traversed over to a gully, which looked okay, and started to descend, very carefully! While traversing I started a very small surface avalanche, more a surface slump, and they are not uncommon this time of the year, with the top section of the snow becoming very warm and slushy in the daytime sun, I shouted back to Anti to avoid this slumping, as although not enough to bury you, enough to sweep you off a cliff, which had handily appeared! After this I started to feel that sick feeling and that voice was starting to say, your fucked! Then I noticed I was right in a concave part of a slope, below a convex section, and this slope was sizable. Everything I had s aid to avoid before! I just went into survival mode and instructed Anti to ski from rock out crop to rock outcrop, we both pepper potted down the slope, it was really steep, and all the time we triggered these sluthing avalanches that ran out 200-300 m down the slope. Eventually we skied out, and I was much relieved. After wards I explained it all to Anti who was much relieved that I had not told him everything that was going on through my mind as he would have become extremely anxious. Back at the car, I looked back and noticed the gully we descended was twice as steep as the one we had backed off. Lesson learnt!

On Sunday we teamed up with Anti’s friend from Stavanger called Tobion. Tobion is ultra fit! And this New Zealand guy turned up, called Kes. Kes talked a lot, more than me, and always about how much things cost! We set off for some peak, again with no map, but I had the GPS so I logged our journey in case of bad weather. At first is was very easy angled, but then Tobion made some bee line for this face and off he went. He never broke stride all the w ay up the hill, even on the really steep section! Anti, Kes and I found the steep section, really steep and I had a moment of blind panic when I had to turn on the steepest part. I actually dug a pit, sat in it and then turned around! Kes made comments like he would climb down this bit, and if he had a rope he would use it. We all agreed a fall would be very serious, and when we traversed above the cliff, a fall would have been helicopter time! The weather was fantastic, and eventually we climbed above the difficulties and onto the summit, were Tobion had been sitting probable for some time. Tobion and Kes zipped off, and Anti and I had some lunch and slowly made our ay down on almost perfect conditions. I made a few moves! It was great. Approximately 5km to the summit from the road, resulted in 5km run back to the car. Perfect. The steep section was steep, and need quite a lot of care and defensive skiing. A fall here would be serious, and you could easily fly for several hundred meters until you hit the valley floor!

A good weekend!

Nemesis-veggen

In the gentle art of sport climbing, which should be gentle, but in my case seems to involve frantic jumping for small holds, to somehow drag myself up to the top. This is normally associated with me speaking in short sharp tones, followed by “take in” and “watch me”. When all is said and done, and nervously try to build my shattered esteem back up by reciting endless tails of woe, normally along the lines, of “When I was lad, the rock plastered with snow, my crampons squealing, the tied off piton, a distant memory….” You get the picture… I am the guru master, of self-justification!

Nemesis-veggen, known to other sport climbing, as Møtteveggen is a brutally steep cliff, on the island of Sotra, which is west of Bergen. Home to a handful of desperate sports routes and equally desperate traditional routes. The crag, has become my Nemesis, as it had become for my fellow comrade in arms. This weeks special guest, Comrade Anti and Comrade Camilla. Møtteveggen isn´t a bad place it just a place that extenuates my weaknesses to the maximum. This results in a lot of “TAKE IN….” and “Watch me” statements. Today was no different apart from today I was able to actually get up some routes, but only just… The first route a Nosk 5 was typical untypical for the crag and was very Scottish, basically brutal and awkward. After this I launched up some 6+ and after passing the crux, I just didn´t have enough go go juice to carry on and fell off. Anti and Camilla swarmed up it, and a after a brief rest I mounted the climb with a top rope and got up it.

Bring back trad climbing all is forgiven….