Road to hell

It stopped raining today and I finally made it up to the wall with the rest of my gear. I even had enough energy left to do the first pitch. Not too bad really, as I was considering knocking it on the head.

I parked at Fiva Farm and the farm manager – an old guy with a missing finger – told me he remembered the Brits climbing the wall for the first time in the ’60s. He also recommended that I didn’t go to the wall, but I promised that if it was dangerous I’d come back down (the bit I’m on is pretty solid). The funny thing was that as I was driving towards the wall – feeling a bit gripped – the Norwegian radio was playing Chris Rea’s Road to Hell.

I think I’ll make this my last trip where I carry a 50kg haul bag up a never-ending scree slope. The worst thing is if I rap the route – which is likely, as there’s snow and ice at the top now – I’ll have to carry my bags out in relays. Best not to think about it.

The first pitch (V) was a horrible slimy waterfall and I ended up aiding half of it. The climbing above looks very steep and less wet.

I’m doing the route capsule style (fixing ropes from three camps) as this is much safer on such a nasty wall, and it allows me to zip back to my bivy without getting caught out in a storm with no shelter set up.

I’m sleeping under a slight overhang on the ground tonight and have rigged a tarp to keep the drips off, so it’s pretty comfy. Tea was tomato soup with leftover bread dunked in. I’ve got ten days of food with me, but I really hope it doesn’t take that long.