"A word on the spot is worth a cartload of recollections"
James Maggs, Southwold diarist 1797-1890

Friday, 11 March 2011

Gullyvers Reisen

We woke up to a cold, clear and sunny day. The salmon on the porch was still frozen solid (there is no freezer compartment in the fridge so we'd hung it on the washing line).

On the drive north to Kafjord a large bird flew in front of the car. At first we both thought it was a crow but then we saw it was much bigger - it had a 6-8 foot wingspan. It was a sea eagle. It turned its head to look down at us as it flew.

Further along the fjord, fish were being dried on large wooden frames.

We parked at the end of the road at Kafjord and walked in to the foot of the climb we'd run away from last Friday, Gullyvers Reisen, a 130m WI5.

Nick led both pitches. The first had a vertical, almost overhanging section. The second was a long steep climb up the back of a deep cleft. In contrast with the soft, wet ice on yesterday's climb, the ice today was almost like glass - smooth, hard and polished. I kept having to duck as ice dislodged by Nick whizzed down towards me, rebounding alternately off the rock wall to the left and the ice wall to the right.
For the first time this trip we saw evidence of other climbers - cord left in abolokovs by a party asbeiling off. There wasn't an abolokov at the top of the climb though, so Nick put one in:

On the drive back to the cabin the views were stunning. The snow on the mountains across the fjord was blue in shadow except where their tops were picked out in orange by the setting sun, and the sky above was pink. The air was so clear that you could see the mountains tens of miles north at the head of the fjord. There was a feeling of immense space.

1 comment: