The Next Horizon by Chris Bonington

Author:Chris Bonington [Bonington, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781910240885
Publisher: Vertebrate Publishing
Published: 2016-02-15T05:00:00+00:00

– CHAPTER TWELVE –

EIGER DIRECT: THE CLIMB

It was the 7th March and we were at last committed to the face; with a bit of luck the constant yo-yo between Scheidegg and the snow cave would be over. John and Dougal, out in front, had forced the Rock Band the previous day, spent the night in a small snow hole they had hollowed out under a rock overhang on the ice-field between the two bands, and were now climbing up towards the Second Band. Layton and I were hauling gear up the First Band. Ours was the support role. Layton had jumared up first, and most of the day went slowly as he hauled sack after sack up the face. I alternated between the snow hole and the foot of the slope. As in war, siege tactics on a mountain entail constant long periods of inaction, broken by spasmodic moments of frenetic activity. There is one big difference though: the moments of inaction are precious in their own way – you can gaze over the hills, feel the peace and silence of the mountains – peace that is the more real for the very presence of a lurking threat of change in the weather, or a mistake on a fixed rope.

Then it was my turn to follow Layton up the fixed rope – the second time I had ever been on jumars. The rock was sheer and the rope dropped down in a single span of 300 feet. Economising on weight, we had used 7 mm perlon, being the thickness of an ordinary clothesline and, in theory, strong enough, with a breaking strain of 2,000 lb. – in practice it inspired little confidence. Wherever the rope went over a sharp edge of rock, it flattened out under tension till it was not much thicker than a piece of tape; how much wear before it was cut through? Only time and experience could tell.

You clip the jumars on, one for your thigh harness, one for your foot. I got the lengths of the slings wrong again, and as a result turned that first ascent into a terrifying struggle. You have to first pull in all the spring in a 300 foot length of rope by putting your weight on it, then shooting down the ice slope about thirty feet, bouncing like a red ball at the end of a string, all the time imagining what is happening to the rope, high above your head, as it saws over sharp edges. But you can’t afford to think of that. Blot it out of your mind and start jumaring, pushing up the clamps alternately, your life depending on that thin thread that stretches forever in front of you. Glance over to the left; you’re level with the Eiger Window. A train has just pulled in and the tourists are gawping through the window, just a few feet away – a few feet which might as well be a thousand miles, for your life and your whole world revolve round that thread of rope.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.