This day was one of the greater tests of our climbing. Climbing ‘Celebrian n6’
Beth, Pat and I set off and unfortunately are snaked on the hitches, so we walk a good 45m before getting picked up by a nice German couple in a camper.
A brisk hike into Djupfijord and we arrive to find Freds leading up the first pitch of our target route with Elisha belaying.
It’s a bit of a bushwhack but we scramble to its base.
I rack up and take the alleged 1st ‘crux’ pitch – an intimidating but short-lived wide crack.
Good use of the #4 but slightly runout. I charge good rope length and belay, agreeing to lead in blocks.
I lead up again, this time dispatching a sustained finger crack in the tail of a full-length pitch. Excellent.
A dude whom Kris told us about is rope-soloing the climb – he had linked this, Vestpillaran and Storpillaran in a day the year or two before! Strong.
Inspiring.
We swing the leads and eventually go left on advice of our new rope-soloing pal.
It appears less vegetated but seems harder.
Eventually I go round a corner and climb a slightly desperate groove which feels about n6+
Oof. Now things are getting spicy.
It’s interesting to reflect on. I can handle this difficulty but as a team we probably can’t if there’s more pitches like this.
Pat already took us up a tricky, unpleasant vegetated groove, and it looks like I’ll have to do the same.
I quest left from the good belay ledge (with some decaying tat, ab possible from here).
It’s bold, but I reach the corner and make slightly bold but reasonable progress up a vegetated H/VS groove.
It takes us to the big grassy ledge. We’ve already seen Freddie go off route on the headwall across the jagged broken granite band which badges the wall. They have negotiated big loose blocks and need to find a way to the top.
It feels more adventurous than bargained for. The Swedish team behind us, are well behind us…
Old mate rope soloing makes good progress, and must top out not long after the boys.
OK. Lunch break on the ledge, outrageous views in the full arctic sun which has lightly seered our Scottish skin.
Patrick takes us up the first headwall pitch. No pushover and the quality of climbing really improves. I take the reins to avoid a repeat of Freddie’s off route antics and unfortunately build a really uncomfortable belay in an effort to make progress.
It was a tricky pitch for sure, and my christ it was exposed. I make a committing pull into the handcrack Freds had completely overlooked and it is eventually forgiving, certainly for gear but some stiff pulls required to make more progress into the unknown.
Bugger. My repeated warnings of ‘take a good belay if you find one’ doesn’t get through my own thick skull and Patrick takes the rack for the final pitch. Beth is close to tears. I’m physically and mentally tired, but not yet exhausted. I know I can keep going, at least for a bit. I’m relieved Patrick offers to take on a lead however.
It’s uncomfortable to watch and we have to pass the gold dragonfly up to him, but he pulls round the corner and makes slow progress up.
By the time we second, it becomes clear this was not an easy lead.
Finally the wall relents and Beth drags the rope up to the summit and we follow.
The craziest thing about those final pitches is that we might have been on route the whole time. It felt close to what new routing on such walls might feel like.
It’s late. We top out and message the others.
Helpfully, as promised by old mate, there is a cairn and apparently he was to build cairns on the way down. It is not a straightforward descent. Happily, Elisha and Freddie leave detailed instructions, and we navigate and negotiate a very exposed scramble – about VDiff on absolutely no fall terrain.
The abseil is not straightforward to find but we get there, Ab into the notch and slink ourway across the contour and down a grassy shoulder eventually to meet the path that Patrick, Freddie and I had descended the day before on our hike up (and down) Vagakallen.
We’re absolutely spent, and a little distraught however the views are spectacular so it’s hard to be mad at the mountains.
This is when a bit of exhaustion takes over. I had switched on focus and fortitude for the gnarly scrambling and abseil however, the next part descending steep grass and a little snow patch, I look up and around to see stare at the mountains, and the mountains staring back at me…
Eventually, after retracing our steps to reunite with Beth’s bag, have a snack and drink earlier than expected from the cool stream of the mountain, we arrive at the road. It’s 2am.
We meet a swift walker on his ‘Morning Hike! It’s amazing!’ his wide-eyes certainly suggesting an amazing experience.
We hike and are rejected by a handful of party going/picking cars on our hour long hike back to Henninsgvaer. Thankfully, pasta bake awaits and we feast. A cold beer goes down as we go down to bed. 16h road to road. 18h door to door. An absolutely draining day. We’re done. Lucky we don’t have to clean the house and check out the next morning…
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