I think I finished my last post with “never say never” on whether I would do another Himalayan expedition. Well, that proved to be quite apt, as here I was at the beginning of September about to set off on my second such expedition. This time I hoped things would be a bit more fun!

The previous winter season which was rapidly fading hadn´t really been ideal preparation to try and climb and ski a 7,000m peak on the Tibetan/Nepalese border, 8km to the west of Mount Everest. Our house (which I am still renovating) had turned into a labour of love and a black hole of my personal time. So, I had done next to no snowboarding at all all winter, apart from going to the local hill in Drammen to skin up and down. One thing I have learnt about mountains since I´ve been in the Oslo area is that a mountain is as big as you make it which translated into going up and down Drammen ski hill 6 times to turn it into a soaring 1800m mountain once or twice a week to keep some form of fitness and get some form of fix. So the board skills might well have been a little bit rusty to say the least on arrival at Pumori.

South West Face of Pumori (7161m) and Base Camp (5,400m), Nepal

I had decided to give these Himalayan trips one more shot if only because this time some of the variables which were present last time and which had bothered me weren´t present this time. And I just wanted to make 100% sure that these sorts of trips were or weren´t for me without any lingering doubts.

My very first attempt at organising a trip to the Himalayas had been in 2007 with my friend Seb de Sainte Marie. He had been the instigator and chosen the very ambitious mountain Nanda Devi East in India. That never came to anything but it was the beginning of Seb heading to the Himalayas on a fairly regular basis. I then tried to drag Seb along on my first expedition to Laila Peak last year (read post here) but that wasn´t to be. So when Seb said that he was organising a trip which would be sponsored and paid for by Mammut bar my flight ticket and the team would consist of good friends, there was not a moment´s hesitation on my part. I was in!

Things were never going to be quite so straightforward. The group of friends slowly whittled down to just me and complications started to arise regarding the financing of the trip with the sponsor to the point where the trip was no longer a certainty. This limbo persisted for months until, sure enough, with weeks to spare, Seb worked his magic and the trip was finally back on track. We were going to Nepal.

At this point, I would normally fast-forward to the face and I wouldn´t normally talk about the logistics of getting there as it´s a trip that´s been made thousands of times before. On this occasion, our trip or the “epicness” of it is an integral part of the story and had consequences for how this trip turned out, both physically and emotionally.

Menk getting ready to film in Lobuche (4,900m), Nepal

For someone who has a brain like a sponge and an almost control-freakish need to understand his surroundings (especially when unfamiliar), flying on long flights surrounded by unfamiliar faces and arriving in Kathmandu, surrounded by even more unfamiliar faces (both people´s and dogs´) and the cacophony of noise from cars, people and dogs that accompany it, I couldn´t sleep! Not on the flight and not in Kathmandu. So the early start at 5.30am to get our flight to Lukla was the continuation of the exercise in sleep deprivation which had been running for three days now. Fine to a point. As long as I get some sleep soon! And that´s just the thing with these sorts of trips. You never know…… I finally got some sleep three days later.

The flight to Lukla was duly cancelled due to bad visibility in Lukla and you don´t mess around with Lukla in bad vis. (for those of you who don´t know, this airport is supposedly one of the most dangerous airports in the world. Certainly the most dangerous airport I´ve been to). We then found out that there had been no planes in or out of Lukla for 4 days which did not bode well for our prospects. It would be an additional two days if we took a jeep and trekked to Lukla instead. That seemed like the most sensible thing to do. Lock in a two day loss instead of a potentially infinite amount of days waiting for a flight. And that´s what we did.

I already had the bone-jarring 26.5 hrs non-stop pleasure ride in a tin can on the Karakoram Highway in the memory bank from last year, so this would surely be a doddle in comparison. In some respects, yes. In others, no.

The scenery was just stunning. Lush green jungle. Water and water falls everywhere. My idea of heaven to be honest. In stark contrast to the dry and arid landscapes we experienced in Baltistan, last year. We left Kathmandu at around 14.00 (without a guide who was off on another trip to Manaslu with his girlfriend. Priorities…?) and it was long dark before the first problems found us. The jeep was burning up…. which was sorted out with some trusty water in the radiator. Then anything that was illuminated in and on the jeep decided to blink for the rest of the night (lights, dashboard, everything). Thankfully, no one was epileptic but there were some very tired eyes. This became known as “Disco lights”. Then the front left brake decided to give up the ghost in the middle of nowhere (generally everywhere seemed to be the middle of nowhere to be honest) at around 01.00 in the morning. Yes, we were still on the go! After an hour of fixing, what looked like a night spent in and around the jeep was avoided and we were able to move again, find somewhere to sleep for a few hours before getting up at 06.00. Four days and little sleep and my humour was not quite as radiant.

Looking South from Pumori Base Camp at 5,400m, Nepal

We had encountered some pretty torrential rains during the night. I wasn´t sure if this quantity of rain was normal for the region or not. The first landslide we came across in the morning told me it was not. Hours spent with the locals removing tonnes of rock did the trick and we were on our way again only to find a tree blocking our way another 15 mins down the road…… thankfully removed by a local bulldozer soon thereafter. And finally after 24hrs bar a few hours kip we arrived in Ghurmi where we got out of one jeep and into another for another 12hrs of fun (river was too big for our jeep to cross), this time on roads which were more like trenches due to all the recent rainfall which made for very slow progress.

Log across the road courtesy of Seb de Sainte Marie

So what was the damage so far…… Our camera man had been sick from the motions of the jeep along with one of the porters who had been sick for long periods. And everyone else….? Not sick but hardly a barrel of laughs either, especially on a diet of biscuits and not enough water. By the time we were finally able to get out of the jeep and head to bed for a few hours sleep before the trekking was to start the next day (at 06.00!), we were already two days in on a trip which was only supposed to take two days! Needless to say, Seb was not a happy bunny and we were now eating into the time we were supposed to be spending on the mountain which in turn led to Seb driving everyone that much harder. This seemed to set the tone for the rest of the trip.

Everest (8,848m) and Nuptse (7,861m) with plumes of snow, Nepal

The fact that we only had four porters who were young, spindly and half my size and who were contracted to carry 30kg each looked like a hopeless scenario. I´d flagged this a couple of times with Seb but to no avail. This was going to be problematic! It seemed, at least, that mine and Seb´s approach to dealing with problems was very different; I would see problems and try and solve them before they happened. Seb would see problems, hope they didn´t happen and then try and solve them when they did, the lack of porters being a case in point.

Needless to say, the porters weren´t able to go 20 steps without having to stop and have a break due to the weight of the loads…… to our frustration, as we saw immediately that we wouldn´t be getting to Lukla any time soon at this rate. We soldiered on hoping to hire some porters on the way, having some luck finding one who was completely pissed and lasted an hour before his urge for a drink overwhelmed him and we had to find another one to replace him. Guideless and to help take the strain off Seb, I took responsibility for the porters, staying behind with the slowest and trying to keep them in line until we met up with our guide who was three days away by foot.

To keep things nice and neat and continue with the “epicness” of it all, we put in as long days as possible of course, up at first light, trekking all day until last light and then finding a lodge, dinner and then to bed (read: 2 days trekking for 12hrs and one day trekking for 9hr). We were having a riot! Little did I know it but this was the beginning of groundhog day for 7 days until we got to Base Camp (BC). When we finally met up with our new guide just south of Lukla, we had taken five days to do what was supposed to have taken two! And thanks to our “epicness” we were no slouches.

Looking south from Pangboche (3,900m), Nepal

The sense of urgency to get to BC was now starting in earnest. As opposed to making the most of the shorter trek times which gave us all the time in the world to get to the next village, we for some reason had to be there in record time every day, just so that when we arrived we could eat lunch and then sleep through till dinner to recover from our brisk pace, then eat dinner and then sleep again til morning. Clearly, this made no sense to me. Where was the element of fun in this? Aren´t there supposed to be some smiles along the way, not just brave faces….? I think I looked at my feet more than the scenery, trying to navigate through the rocky trails. We never stopped to take in the views and enjoy the surroundings. Which made even less sense, as by this stage, Seb had got himself a cold and of all people he would have benefited most by taking it easy until we got to BC. What can I say…? I just couldn´t get my head around it? Asking Seb for an extra hour´s sleep one morning to be rested for the mountain was vetoed. Asking to stop the jeep at an earlier stage in the trip to eat was vetoed, even though we had only eaten once that day and it was now or never for meal number two that evening. Asking to be allowed to do things which were basic was starting to wear on me to be honest. There was no real sense of team here. But I was in a difficult position.

Looking south from Pumori (7,161m), Nepal

My hands were very much tied over how much influence I could have over proceedings on this trip. Seb was the sponsored athlete, had organised the trip, got it paid for, dealt with all the problems to make it a reality. This was never going to be a team effort even though it was just me and him. He had invested too much of himself to be able to relinquish any control and I could feel that, so I didn´t push it when I saw bumps in the road and he didn´t want to listen. It was quite clear that I was only going to be a passenger on this trip. As much as that was understandable, it did prove difficult at times, especially when all the decisions were affecting me, including any decisions made on the mountain.

Lobuche (4,900m), Nepal

Anyway, onwards and upwards. We weren´t far off from BC before the first headaches hit. Headaches at altitude really have a habit of making you feel like death warmed up, especially after over 130km of trekking in your legs the last 6 days. Both me and Menk, the cameraman, were sidelined from the evenings entertainment which was watching the Nepalese having a good time! I had been taking Diamox from around 3,000m but it didn´t hinder the headache after 1,000m gain from 3,900m to 4,900m in one day. Nothing that a bit of Ibuprofen couldn´t handle though. We were both soon back on our feet and after our first day´s rest to acclimatise we were ready for the final day´s trek to BC. Thank God, Groundhog was almost over. According to my map, we had put behind us somewhere in the region of 130km to 150km in the space of 6 days along with the most delightful off-roading and at a guess went up and down something like 6,000m (certainly up anyway). Not a world record by any stretch but we certainly weren´t fresh with energy abounding! Climbing the mountain would be a piece of piss after this as long as we could muster some reserves.

Seb on the way to Gorak Shep with Nuptse (7,861m) behind, Nepal

For those interested in getting to Pumori, we followed the Everest BC trail from Lukla all the way up to the last lodge at Gorakshep (5,100m) and then started heading West away from Mount Everest. The trail is easy to find. It´s only about another 2 hours from Gorakshep and 300m up at (5,400m). For those who have not been on this trail and who like their creature comforts, you will not have to forsake much. There are lodges everywhere, fully stocked with every kind of sweet and drink you could want and a westernised menu and mobile phone coverage. Quite a contrast to what I expected and had experienced the year before. It´s a real tourist trail and the tourist money is evident. Below is a clip of the lodge at Gorak Shep with Seb and Menk and too much chatter, boys!

Gorak Shep at 5100m with Nuptse in the background, Nepal

And on 14th September, we finally arrived in BC. It was nice to finally have my own tent, both for the sense of freedom it offered and to have a bit of time to myself. The first two peaks you see in the clip below are of Everest and Nuptse over Seb´s shoulder and then it pans up to the face of Pumori and then round to where we gained access to the moraine to find a way onto the west face. Very nice weather!

View from my tent with Everest and Nuptse in the background, Nepal

It wasn´t long before we got down to business though, trying to find a way onto the west face. Seb had gathered as much info on the mountain as he could and it appeared we would be able to simply march up the west face directly from the moraine, so we set about laying the foundations of a path through the big boulder field the day we arrived, ready to try and navigate the glacier and get onto the actual face the next day. After about three hours of faffing around on the moraine, finding the way, making cairns, I was done. This coupled with the hike to BC from Lobuche and all the previous days´hiking had taken its toll. I was due for a few days´rest which I duly took for the next two days.

But not Seb of course! He needed to push on and would not rest until he had found a way through the glacier to get onto the face and establish ABC. It seemed to me that Seb was putting himself under a lot of pressure and allowing the presence of a sponsor to get to him and ultimately me. They were like the pink elephant in the room. Never present but always there. The mountain was not giving up her secrets easily though and after two days of exploring various alternative routes, we were none the wiser. This was starting to feel like Laila Peak all over again where the hardest part had been finding a way up. We could end up losing precious days just trying to find a way through. On all accounts, accessing from the west was proving fruitless, so we changed our angle of attack and decided on another way which we had briefly discussed on arrival; the south west face with its small glacier ending in a ridge which stared down at us every day (See very first picture for position of ABC). The unknown was whether we would be able to get down the other side of the ridge to join the west face…..? And on the day of my birthday after four days at BC, we set out to explore. Unfortunately, this would prove to be the end of my trip.

Climbing South West Face of Pumori to establish ABC with Menk and Seb, Nepal

My back had been causing me a few issues from the intensity of the trekking and the lack of rest days. Suffering from (what I consider at least to be) pretty bad scoliosis, my back is always causing me problems. In fact, every waking moment is accompanied by some discomfort. So it is just something I have to deal with and the problems I was facing now were just problems I had to deal with. It just meant digging a little deeper and getting there. My back had never stopped me before and to just keep going was a tactic with a 100% success rate. Until now. I struggled from the outset of the climb with a heavy pack and could feel my back protesting as soon as I put it on. Unfortunately, it just got worse and worse as I started the relatively easy climb up the 300m ahead of me. My back has a tendency to bend out to the side and want to walk next to me, causing me to have problems fully inflating my diaphragm, losing some coordination of my legs and thus balance and all my core strength. Just perfect! So here I was, breathing like I was at 8,000m, using ridiculous amounts of energy to get my legs to push me upwards, my back spasming and just hating every moment, digging so deep I was losing grip of the spade! It was just a hopeless task, especially in the face of another 1,500m when we actually got on the face at higher altitude! With only 12 more days to climb, there would be no miraculous recovery for me. Simply not enough time. No chance. So while I had a private moment, wrestling with my disappointment that my trip was over and I hadn´t even put my board on and the guilty conscience of telling Seb and letting him down, Seb carried on up to the ridge to find it was passable and scrambled down with the good news.

Looking down at Pumori Base Camp from the South West Face at 5,700m, Nepal

Base camp was decidedly deflated when we finally got back down from ABC. My decision to pull out was taken as well as could be expected (or at least it appeared so) and I was naturally feeling bad for putting Seb in a difficult position; both to continue on solo and with regard to all the effort in organising the trip and his obligations to the sponsor. But what can you do? Somethings you can work on, other things you just can´t, especially with so little time. The length of the expedition had been planned with no room for unforeseen problems. Acceptance has been a big part of getting older for me and this was another one of those situations.

So, Seb continued carrying up to ABC to get ready to climb the face and had decided to ski the triangle just beforehand to ensure some footage for the film and to build some confidence before the big day. I just pottered around base camp, washing my clothes, reading and then reading some more, rearranging my tent and then rearranging my tent some more. I felt guilty watching Seb continue on his own and the prospect of another 12 days in camp with nothing to do was not very appealing, so I decided to leave camp early on 23rd September, an week earlier than planned, for the trek home.

Seb´s Ski Line on South West Face of Pumori (7,161m), Nepal

But that was not before some sweaty-palm moments watching Seb ski the triangle through binoculars at base camp. This ended up being survival skiing of the first order. It took Seb 1 hour to ski 400m and he put in maybe 4 turns on the whole face, the rest of it agonisingly slow slide slipping. The sun was not able to thaw the snow due to cloud which had formed on that part of the face for some reason every day we had been there. Despite this, I couldn´t get Seb to admit that the skiing was terrible. Unbelievable! That was not what I considered to be skiing or fun. We clearly disagreed on what was fun, on what was skiing. Had I not had a bad back, Seb would have fully expected me to come with him and not understood if I had not gone on that face to only slide down it white knuckling my ice axes, a totally pointless and dangerous exercise. If I´m going to risk my life, the reward has to outweigh the risk. There´s no reward for me in slide slipping down mountains.

This disagreement seemed to be one of several over the days before my departure which led to a frosty atmosphere, and the long, protracted silences at dinner were deafening. No chance of Menk making any conversation. A lovely guy but not the world´s best conversationalist! We were too far apart on too many things and there was a blatant personality crash lurking, had I not shown some restraint. We were simply at different ages and at different stages in our lives wanting different things. So it came as some relief when I finally set off to head home on my own with the poor porter carrying my load. Four days to Lukla and then the most exciting plane ride I have ever had to Kathmandu (not forgetting the reputation of this little airport)! And you wouldn´t believe who I bumped into on the way there but Luca Pandolfi who had come to Pakistan with me the previous year and who was just about to head off on his own adventure with TGR and Jeremy Jones. It was really good to see him and condolences once again, mate, for your loss Jeremy seemed like a lovely fella too.

So, what do we reckon…? “Never say never….” or Never again! I think the latter. As much as I try, I just cannot understand why I would want to do another expedition in the Himalayas. It just doesn´t make sense to me. There are so many mountains around which are so much more easily accessible for skiing, have enormously better odds of success, cost a lot less to get to, require so much less personal investment in time and where you don´t have to erect a small village to live there and bring a small village along to live with you. Oh…., and where you don´t have to contend with the problems of altitude (at least not over long periods) and eat crap, processed food (our cook was terrible), be jumbled about in jeeps, sleep deprived and generally feeling like shit for long periods (and I paid for all this!). And this is purely from a skier´s perspective but I like the ratio of up and skiable terrain to be equal or as close to as possible (call me anal!). That is impossible on these trips. Loads of up and a little bit of skiing down, probably on shit snow Well, at least I didn´t get diarrhoea this time.

So, why do people go on trips to the Himalayas as opposed to other mountains…? Because they grew up reading about the stories of legend and mystic and want to relive those moments? Because they want to increase their profile and this is where the world´s attention is honed? Because the Himalayas are established as the mountains to rival all mountains and that´s where a sponsor´s focus lies and consequently where your focus and the sponsored athlete´s focus lies? The most fertile grounds for an ego to grow? Or do they lend an air of credibility to the climber, a sort of graduation or rites of passage to elevate you into the elite? There´s probably some truth in there somewhere and some of it has certainly applied to me in the past. All I know now is that it doesn´t make sense for me anymore.

As a side note and in the context of our obsession with nurturing a picture perfect Facebook existence, I´ve tried to portray things in as true a light as possible without going into sordid details for all concerned. There´s nothing wrong with reality and its imperfections. That´s all there is.

And Seb? I got word from Menk that they have since left BC and that the weather was too bad after I left and Seb never got a chance to go back on the face. I haven´t heard from Seb since this trip unfortunately.

Despite my mixed feelings about these trips, I am very grateful to Seb for putting it all together. A big thanks again to Vicki at Power Traveller for the solar equipment. I added the Power Gorilla to the collection this time and what a difference it made. One charge lasted all the way to BC and one more charge got me all the way home.

And then there´s John Keffler, founder of Phantom Splitboard Bindings who was kind enough to donate his lightest bindings yet to the project. A lovely guy and I wish I had held up my end of the deal by putting some turns on Pumori for him. These bindings are the best thing since sliced bread for hard booters. There will be plenty more opportunities this winter.

The name of the trekking agency is conspicuous by its absence. Not very impressed.

Today was going to be a solo day and given the new snow I wanted to do something that was conservative and chose Hustinden which is a 5 minute drive from the house in Napp. Ski-in, ski out (well, almost).

You have to drive to Nappskaret car park which is the same car park to go up Stornappstind. You’ll see it as soon as you arrive. This tour seems like a really good tour on those days you’re not sure of the snow pack as you’re nice and safe on the ridge the whole way, so if anything goes, it should go below you.

I had to cross a small river at the start which was easy and then skinned up the first section which is around 30 degrees and then it gets steeper to around 38 degrees (checked on inclinometer) and then mellows back down. Once I get to the steeper section, I boot packed up.

The whole trip is around 700m vertical gain from the car park. It took me about 2 hrs up and down which was a bit slow going. The wind was blowing almost perpendicular to the ridge, so there was a lot of deep wind transported snow on the leeward side, the side I boot packed up but more importantly also the side I boarded down The snow was just below my knee for most of the way. Nice powder.

The snow seemed really cohesive on the lower angle stuff but as I gained elevation and started to climb up the steepest section towards the top (42 to 45 degrees, one section of 48 degrees for 10m (checked with inclinometer)), the snow was drier and I didn’t have a great feeling about it. I dug down to the old rain affected layer which was about 30cm below the new snow and it just seemed a little too light and fluffy for my liking. I could easily just wipe it off the rain affected layer. It just didn’t feel good enough which might have something to do with being solo.  Either way, I decided to turn about 50m below the summit and get out of there.

Being solo and having doubts is an endless battle. Are your doubts genuine or because you are alone. Very often it’s hard to tell the difference, I find. Wind, bad visibility and cold only add to the internal struggles ;).

The snow behaved normally but as the terrain was steeper, I was easily going through to the rain affected snow beneath which is food for thought for steep skiing later in the week.

So the trip achieved what I set out to do. Get some safe, powder turns and check out how things are shaping up. Hopefully, a little bit wiser this week. Things definitely need to bond a bit more on the higher elevations where the snow is drier.

For more trips reports in Lofoten and for more trip reports in Norway.

18

As the road is closed for the winter past Leirdalvassbu, the options are pretty limited so we plumbed for Loftet which forms the first peak on the west side of the Leirdal valley from the road. The face is north north east facing depending on which particular line down you take but on all accounts very similar to the couloir I wanted to ski further down the valley.

As the road is closed at the moment, we had to skin up around 15mins before climbing the mountain proper. It’s a pretty straightforward skin up although it was icy in some places. There is still clear evidence of the Dagmar storm and rain affected snow which has refrozen to ice in places although it had filled in again in many others.

There’s not really much of note to this tour to be honest. We got there pretty late which meant coming down as the light was starting to fade but we were lucky to get beautiful weather.

We skinned up and skied down the same line to get us back to the car. It’s a pretty even gradient the whole way up and down. A nice cruisy tour for any standard of skier.

We were up and down again in around 4 hours with 1200m of vertical gain from the car. The conditions up lead to some conservative skiing on the way down, expecting to bottom out on a hard, icy layer but that didn’t always happen. Too late after the event!

A nice cruisy tour to get the legs going. Needless to say the conditions weren’t encouraging enough for me to want to check out the couloir I had in mind. I cannot imagine conditions improving anytime soon to be honest. The slightest wind is blowing the snow away and temperatures are in the -10 to -15 range making it difficult for the new snow to bond to the hard icy layer. Or maybe the couloir is nice and protected… Hmmmm. I shall persevere.

Want to see more splitboarding in Norway…..? Click here.

9

I’ve decided to call a failed attempt on a peak a “reccy” instead, as that is what it really is. Checking things out and lessons learned for the next attempt. Anything to help lessen the frustration

The snow came late to Europe and Norway has been no exception. But when it came, it came in abundance. Or at least that’s what it looked like looking at the snow reports and from hearsay. Then Dagmar (a hurricane à la Norwegian) came along over Christmas with warm temps and rain.

That’s unfortunately how I found Isfjorden on the West Coast of Norway, just outside of Åndalsness, a 6.5 hrs drive from Oslo. A long drive through the usual, “hilly” mountains before you come to Trollveggen (highest vertical rock face in Europe) and the mountains get serious and beautiful. I wasn’t quite sure which face was Trollveggen but it turns out I was looking at the wrong one, just one door down from the face I should have been looking at which was shrouded in cloud. Another excuse to go back that way!

The wrong Trolllveggen!

I didn’t really have a plan on going to Isfjorden which is always a bit of a mistake when time is short. I’d heard of the usual suspects like Kirketaket but that was it. So I thought I would try and do something on the first mountain I saw which had skiable lines and that was this one just above the town of Isfjorden:

Snortungen (1193m) & Isfjorden

I wasn’t sure if this was a little ambitious for the first tour of the season and the second day on the board but you won’t know if you don’t try so off I went. The problem with touring at this time of year in Norway is the short days. What looked like a fairly straight forward approach turned out to be a shitty bush whack in shitty rain affected snow, so time and uncertainty got the better of me and I binned it before I got to the fan of the couloir.

I had hoped to spend all three days in Isfjorden getting to know the area but it looked like it had rained pretty much to the top of the mountains before I arrived and more rain was coming the next day ( 29th Dec) and a lot more the next day, so off I went to pastures new, hoping to wrestle a bit of snowboarding out of the few days I had.

Waking up to the pitter patter of rain on my tent the next morning, my decision was confirmed and I headed to Jotunheimen with a pit stop in Bjorli for a couple of hours of piste skiing (a really small resort with a couple of runs).

It turns out they had just closed the road (N55) for winter the day before I got there which meant I wouldn’t be able to get into the area. Things were conspiring against me. I could get some way up the road though to the road that turns off to Leirvassbu and Loftet mountain.

Looking towards Skagsnebb at 9am

I’d had my eye on a little something in Leirdalen which again might present me with a few timing issues due to the short day light hours, as indeed it did. I took the wrong approach which didn’t help and lost a lot of time but at least found the best way for next time. A failed attempt but a successful reccie

Conditions here too were not the best. It looked like it had rained pretty high up (at least 1500m. As high as I got.) and refroze. It was boiler plate with a 10cm light and fluffy layer of powder on top and deep pockets of accumulated snow if you were lucky enough to chance upon them. I did on a few occasions and it was blower powder!

There was a big avalanche run out too which I can only imagine was from warmer temps and rain. The debris was boulder size and much more like the warm, wet slides you see at the end of the season. Something to bear in mind as this layer forms the foundation for other snow layers later in the season.

Avalanche in Leidalen (West facing)

Looking north in Leirdalen as the light fades (3pm)

So, on paper a pretty unsuccessful trip. But then what was I expecting having no knowledge of Isfjorden and just generally challenging conditions. Off paper (if you can say that), it was a fantastic 3 days away with me, my car, my splitboard and my tent. A fantastic sense of freedom that I haven’t felt for a long time which has got me well up for the new season!

And things to look forward to: Lofoten, Chamonix and Pakistan!

Want to see more splitboarding in Norway…..? Click here.

Store Smørstabbtinden

And the weather is still really hot. I don’t know what the ambient temperature was during the day but 10 to 15 degrees didn’t seem too far off the mark. And the night time temps were around 0 to -5. Needless to say, the freeze-thaw cycle was in full effect and there was definitely no need for early starts. The snow was bullet hard until mid day.

Store Smørstabbtinden

This run is west facing, so it was a good job we waited as late as we did. We set off around 12.00 and were on the summit for around 16.00, enough time for the snow to soften up. I didn’t take too many pics on this trip but have borrowed a few from Trond. To be honest, the hike up is not really very noteworthy.

The tour starts at Krossbu Hotel and makes its way up gently for the first 500m taking a route which goes looker’s left of the mountain and is very obvious. The last 550m gets steeper and we bootpacked all the way up the ridge to the summit. The snow was very firm the whole way up.

Trond on the way up. Picture courtesy of Gunnar

Views from the summit looking south. Picture courtesy of Trond

Finding the entrance to the couloir is pretty okay but you need to get a good fix on it on the way up. The actual couloir itself is around 40 degrees and pretty narrow in the beginning before widening out again. You have to navigate your way through some stones towards the end and then just peg it across the glacier to get back to Krossbu. Keeping speed, I managed to get most of the way back to the car without having to take the board off. As little walking as possible please

And that’s that. Not much else to report on this one. We took a very leisurely 5hrs up and down with about 1.5hrs break along the way. Total up from the car was 1050m. And that is probably my last tour for the season unfortunately.

Not sure what to make of it to be honest. This is my second season away from the mountains on a permanent basis since 2003 and it’s been hard. There’ve been long periods of nothing and mediocrity in terms of boarding and life’s just too short for mediocrity. I’ve struggled to find a ski buddy with a similar background and experience in ski mountaineering and who’s on the same page. Maybe I’ve been spoilt by fantastic ski buddies during my time in Chamonix or maybe there are just so many more in places like Chamonix than in places like Oslo….

Let’s see what happens next season. One things for sure is it can’t be a repeat of this one.

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Ristinden and its shoulder

And unfortunately that is going to be how it remains until I’m next in Lofoten this time next year. For some reason I didn’t feel quite right about this one beforehand, some of it being irrational and due to the fact that I was going to solo this and some of it perhaps not.

The snow was again on the sparse side on the start of the climb up and again I didn’t use skins.

The intended climb up in red and the same ski down

There was a lot of water coming down the mountain in the form of streams and there were a few marked on the map for this mountain, so I didn’t think it was anything out of the ordinary other than, yes, the snow was melting. There was a fair bit of sluff and pin wheel activity too.

I took this one late in the day (16.30), reasoning that the south facing climb and ski would be softer and in the process of refreezing by the time I got to it. Which it was but the face was in a lot worse shape than I thought.

This face starts out mellow and gets progressively steeper. It’s 40 degrees (measured with inclinometer) half way up the face and still had a fair amount of steepness to go maxing out where you enter the south face from the shoulder (I’m guessing that must be 50 degrees). I didn’t get any further than half-way up the face. At that point, I was confronted with some big fissures in the snow pack, just waiting for more heat (or weight) to set them off.

Nasty cracks in the snow pack

More big, nasty cracks in the snowpack

Not a nice feeling……. That was my cue to bin the route and head back down. So this will be another mountain for another day. This route has had its day for this season.

Temperatures are unseasonably warm for this time of year, not only in Lofoten but all over Norway, so take extra special care and enjoy the remainder of your season.

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This little mountain is right on the doorstep to Leknes and you can see it from the parking lot of the shopping centre. It’s pretty much West-North-West facing. The couloir on Bulitinden originally caught my eye and I tried to get up there with Angelita the previous day but we chose an inefficient route with lots of bushwhacking through thick trees. When we got to the face, it hadn’t quite thawed AND I started climing the wrong couloir!

So back to the drawing board….. and up Guratinden first instead. Way better route and it starts close to the road to Sennesvik and you can come back out to the same place to pick the car up too. Sweet!

Bulitinden & Guratinden from left to right

I took this one solo and bootpacked up the couloir due to the spring corn but you can probably skin up with better snow earlier in the year. Once you’re out, you’ve gained around 400m, so most of the climb is already done. Then it’s just a traverse over to Bulitinden. I didn’t get the skins out once for this trip. Guratinden was a bit patchy on the snow front to be honest. Although, I have to say, if this mountain had more snow on it and it was earlier in the season, I would have felt very exposed on the top and probably not made a bee-line for it’s summit. Moss bed surface and a big open expanse of convex snow.

Backside of Guratinden. Nice run down to Sennesvik...?

Look down to Sennesvik between Gura- and Bulitinden

It’s straight-forward to get across to Bulitinden from Guratinden. Finding the couloir entrance on Bulitinden, on the other hand, wasn’t. There are three possible entrances (only two of which went) and there is a big roll-over and the mountain just falls away. I knew the couloir went from the summit but you always have your doubts and I didn’t fancy getting cliffed-out. Luckily, I had the option of calling a friend, in this case, Angelita! Unfortunately for me, she couldn’t see me through the binoculars, so I took the plunge and got it right (take the entrance from the summit). The couloir was steeper than I thought, around 45 degrees and around 250m long, west facing and nice and soft snow in the evening sun.

Looking back up the couloir on Bulitinden

Views from Bulitind looking west

Views from Bulitind looking west

There’s not a lot of skiing to be had on this to be honest but the weather was great and it was just great to be out. Once you come out of the couloir, you want to try and stay in the most immediate little valley and ski down as far as you can (no real obvious way to describe it). There was a fair amount of bushwhaking the way I went but I followed one of the streams and came out at a wide path which took me all the way back to where the car was parked. No fuss at all.

The whole tour took 2.5hrs (incl. 30mins break) and was around 650m vertical gain. With more snow, you could probably speed up the exit some too.

Nice tour and it you don’t like the couloir on Bulitinden, you can just ski down from the col.

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South Couloir, Stornappstind

I saw the obvious south couloir yesterday and decided a quick solo trip was in order today. It’s about 250 to 300m long and a sustained 40 degrees (maybe a bit more) for the duration. I thought bootpacking up the couloir was probably the best option as I wasn’t sure how obvious it would be to find the entrance if I went up the normal route on the west face. We certainly didn’t come across it when we went up there yesterday and I didn’t fancy the pfaff of trying to find it anyway (although looking at the above picture, it looks easy to find after all). And it’s always good to climb what you’re going to ski in my opinion if you can. By the way, the couloir entrance is lower down than the summit.

Needless to say, I got the whole palette of weather; from sun to cload and sleet to rain and then back to sun again. It’s proabably not a bad thing that the mountains are on the smaller side here, as the weather is so unstable sometimes that you don’t want to be commited on anything big.

Views towards Flakstad before bootpacking up the couloir

When the sun did decide to make an appearance, it was 12.00 and I was half-way up the couloir. South facing, hot and feeling quite exposed. There was a good amount of snow in the couloir and the snow seemed nicely cohesive but I couldn’t bannish that feeling of unease. Either way, I made it to the top and was rewarded with some lovely views.

In the couloir

More nice views from the top of the couloir towards Skottind and Napp harbour

More nice views

The couloir was in good condition despite my earlier unease. Although the bootpack up felt like a small eternity, definitely a nice descent. Tired now. This little bootpack kicked my arse. 900m bootpacks at altitude used to be all part of the fun. I find that hard to imagine this year on that evidence

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This was my first outing on the snowboard in Lofoten and what a day it was too! The weather wasn’t particularly nice. It was blowing a gale. It had rained a few days previously, so the snow wasn’t particularly great. But Angelita’s parents’ house is at the foot of this moutain, you’re surrounded by the sea (at least once you get to the summit) and you’ve got the whole mountain (and all the other mountains within view) to yourself.

I know so little about these mountains; that combined with its far-flung northerly location (above the Arctic Circle) and the feeling that lots of these faces have been deprived the tickling sensation of skis and you just want to get after it…..like a kid in a sweetshop! None of the peaks are particularly high (around 700m to 1000m for the most part). But that just means you can ski two in a day! And it doesn’t get dark until around 22.00, so you can ski one in the morning, cruise Leknes in the car with the tunes banging like a proper townie and then go and ski another line later when you get bored. Leknes definitely does not have the feeling of being a ski town, so you’re never going to be fighting for lines in this part of Lofoten.

There’s nothing particularly special about this route…apart from the fact that you are skiing in Lofoten!! A nice short ski tour and a nice pitch on the way down (parts of it in the mid to high 30 degrees). According to my watch, the trip up was 750m and we were up and down again in around 2hrs. Just in time before it started to lash it down.

West Face of Stornappstind

If you drive west from Napp for a couple of km, you come to Nappskaret car park which is where the tour starts. Once you’ve located the summit from the car park, it’s really straight forward route finding to the summit. You can either ski the South face or the West face which is what we did.

Stortinden: looking towards Flakstad

We managed to get the skis on from the car and skin most of the way. The snow was pretty hard and frozen when we got onto the West face proper and without ski crampons, we boot packed the last few hundred metres to….almost the summit. We turned round about 20m from the summit as it was turning into boiler plate ice from the ridiculously strong winds and I started to slip backwards and couldn’t kick in any steps.

Angelita book packing up...

Good ski down and all the way back to the car. Nice first tour to get a feel for conditions.

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It’s one of the many routes you can do after taking the lift up from Passo Pordoi and I cannot recommend it enough. Nothing extreme or nasty about it. The entrance to the valley might be a little on the steep side for some (probably high 30s in degrees but it soon mellows and leads you into the valley itself.)……sheer rock walls all around you. Really, really beautiful, almost to the point where the skiing becomes secondary….but only almost.

Sigurd at the entrance to Val Mesdi

Sigurd skiing down the couloir from the entrance

It probably takes around an hour to get to the entrance from leaving the Passo Pordoi lift (didn’t pay much attention to the time so that could be a little off but close enough). Just like Canale Col Alton, you have to head for Piz Boe and then keep skinning looker’s left (looking from Passo Pordoi). It should be pretty obvious. When we were there, there was an obvious skin track all the way across the base of Piz Boe which leads you to the entrance of the couloir. If you end up at the Boe refugio (which was closed when we were there), then you’ve gone the right way.

Looking back up the couloir to the entrance

Just before the valley opens up proper

Mid-way down the valley

There are a few nice couloirs skier’s right when you ski down the valley. I will certainly have to check them out when I go back… and I will go back!

Nice couloir for another day!

Spagetti Western or what!

You’ll know when you start to approach the exit, as the descent starts to get narrow. Head skier’s right and follow the tracks down or mogul field as it was in our case. You’ll come out onto a track with just enough gradient to get you back onto the slopes in Colfosco.

The exit from the valley (most obvious line)

An absolute cracker! Skiing the Val Mesdi takes as long as you like but no more than 20 mins if you’re in a hurry. Once in Colfosco, we got a lift down to Corvara again and a taxi back to Arabba where we were staying. EUR 30 for the taxi for two if you’re interested. You can take the lifts back but they were closing when we arrived.

DO IT!!

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