Tourist map:  Sunndal  1 : 80 000

KNT`s Raubergshytta is the perfect starting point for a trip to Storskarhøa, 1871 masl. The shortest way marked trail to Raubergshytta starts at Grønnvollsteinen, about 40 minutes driving from Sunndalsøra. The trip from Grønnvollsteinen to Raubergshytta takes about 3 hours.

There is no trail from Raubergshytta to Storskarhøa, but you can follow the trail to Aursjøhytta and head off for the top from Øvre Håkodalsvatnet. We choose the mountainside of Langranden.

You can read more about DNT - the Norwegian Trekking Association here.

 Langranden  1567 m

 We have just left Raubergshytta. Behind us you can see Raubergskollen, Løypingskollen and     Seterfjellet

 Sørløypa

 The first break

 Now we can see the top

Looking northwards

 A small geographical lesson...

 Snøhetta!   Was there last summer

He is brave, he is strong and he is obviously not suffering from acrophobia.                                        This is a 500 meters cliff                               

 Thanks, Øyvind, you are a gifted photographer and a perfect hiking companion !                     

Pointing at the picures you will get a short text. If that doesn`t work, please tell me, and I will write a  text to each picture.    Marit

 Last weekend we spent at Silsethytta in Gjemnes to celebrate Kirsti`s birthday. On Saturday morning some of us put our boots and rucksacks on and headed off for the 4 mountain tops surrounding Silsetvatnet. Enjoy the photos!! 

   Coming from Molde you will see this sign about 1,5 km before reaching Batnfjodsøra. It is a toll road leading to Innergardssetra. The road is rather steep, but no problem                      Innergardssetra, where the trail starts 

The trail is easy to find and easy to follow. In the beginning it is marked with red sticks.

  Just started

Innergardsnebba,  763 masl

 Silsetvatnet

Steinmerra next

 A lot of ups and downs on his trip

  Innergardsnebba, Åndal and Snøtind behind us

 On the top of Sørheia, 790 masl

 Always looking back to Averøy!

 Mana  785 masl

  On the top of Mana

Returning to Silsetvatnet 

 Next time we follow the trail......

 Ready for a shower and party at Silsethytta   

 If you don`t talk, eat, drink, take pictures, look back, look at the map, enjoy the view, tell stories, discuss the name of the sorrounding mountains, etc. all the time, this trip might take  3 - 4 hours.

In Italy, the way to Rome is called the Via Francigena and it's about the time, when you can do this historic route from the Alps in Northern Italy to St. Peter's and the pope. Or, if this is not enough, you can begin in Canterbury, England, where the Via Francigena originally begins, pass the Channel and move on through France and Switzerland before reaching Italy. The route is very well prepared most of the way, and guidebooks has begun to be avaiable in different languages. So take your best friend, or your wife on an unforgettable journey through Sunny Italy!

In Denmark, my own country, the old Haervej (or Common Road - or Military Road) is becoming a Northern pendant to the Camino in South. Here are simple places to sleep for each 20 km. and you pay less than 10 euros, which is deadcheap for Scandinavian standard. But coming as a pilgrim, you must have some privileges... Your goal on the Haervej is the cathedral of Viborg, a very nice little town with old streets and a medieval atmosphere. Come and look - after your hike on the Haervej - and if you have the time, go on to Frederikshavn, from where you can take a ferry to Norway and continue at the pilgrims road for Nidaros and the cathedral of St. Olav. It's just about 800 km throgh Norway, so why not?

Our itinerary was tough, but not outside of our means: hike the entire Bald Hills ridge line, descend to Evelyn Creek then bushwack our way up the other side of the valley to continue walking the ridge line opposite. I figured we needed about 12 hours to complete the scramble, and we would over night at a back country campsite and then hike out to Maligne Lake- a stunning loop of alpine beauty that would challenge the both of us. I explained the route to Carmen, and we sat together and plotted it out a week before. It would be 23 km to the campsite. What I didn’t let Carmen know was that there would be over 2000m of elevation gain. What you don’t know can’t hurt you… right? 15 hours later, with the sun quickly setting Carmen and I sat staring in disbelief at the crumbled gully we had used as our descent route I was beginning to think this was the last time Carmen would ever go to the mountains with me.

The day began at 5.30, with a quick breaking of camp and some oatmeal. By 7.00 we were lacing up our boots at the trail head- Maligne lake. Jewel of the Canadian Rockies, this stunning lake is a shade of blue that usually only appears in an opium induced fantasy . I set my Altimeter, and we began the climb up an old fire road. This is a typical approach in Jasper- a slog up through a couple hundred meters of dense pine on a less-than-interesting path wide enough for families of 5 to walk hand in hand. We had both been up the path before, and this made it seem even longer. Carmen figured it would take us about 2 hours to climb the 500m to the highest lookout point. I though we’d do it in about 1.15.

90 minutes after we’d left the car, we were standing high above maligne lake. The path ended here, and our adventure began. We crossed a small alpine meadow, and took a short break on a rocky outcropping in the company of some very well fed marmots. Below us, the ground slid away some 800m to the Evelyn Creek drainage. Spread out before us was the horse shoe of mountains we were proposing to traverse. Beyond the ridges and towering above them was the massive face of Edith Cavelle and her siblings. We scoped out the route, then without further ado we left the trodden world behind us and began to climb up onto the ridge.

There is nothing quite like the anticipation of following a ridgeline - one author states, “it is like being on a summit for an entire day”. To one side, the view are fantastic. Then you turn your head 180 degrees and another valley or vista explodes before you. The terrain always varies, and the entire walk has a great feeling of accomplishment with each small peak or knoll or summit that you cross. It just feels great when you are up and walking along the very spine of a mountain- its like riding a cosmic bull.

The ridge bumped and rolled a bit as we headed south, neither gaining much in altitude nor losing it. The sun was shining, and we felt great- it was only 10.00 by the time we reached to foot of our first big obstacle: 250m climb up to the 2600m summit of an unnamed mountain. A broad, flat ramp led us up to the steeper slopes. To the South West and directly below us a few bright tarns coloured a scree laden bowl. Up and up we climbed, the flat limestone flakes crackling under foot. At about 2500m we came up to a rock band and traded our trekking poles for hand holds. The last hundred meters we scrambled up over boulders- pulling myself up over the summit ledge I was confronted by a huge cairn.

From the summit, we could clearly see the Bald Hills ridge we had just crossed to the North and East. South East of us, a long and rough spur extended like punk’s hair style. The way ahead was bordered on its north side by a rusty razors edge and on the other it fell away steeply.

We turned west now, and made our way along the edge of the mountain to a subsidiary peak. Dark cloud was moving in, and Carmen and I were anxious- we could smell the storm coming at us from the west, and this time of year we were sure to get lightening. We cut our way short of a drainage I had proposed we use to descend to Evelyn Creek and headed carefully down the steep shale slop as we were buffeted by the first blasts of the storm front. By the time we had reached tree line at 2200m it was raining and we followed the first stream we happened upon into the trees. 10 minutes later, the rain had stopped and we were surrounded by lush forest, opened up here just enough to let the water course its way through. Wildflowers were growing everywhere, brilliant yellow orange and pink. The stream bumped its way clumsily down hill, oblivious of the fact that it had created this tiny eden on a mountainside. Carmen commented that she was sure that if fairies existed, that this is where they would live. I laughed at this, but started turning over rocks and peeking under tumbled trees when she wasn’t looking.

Eventually we came to level ground, and the tall trees gave way to dwarf pines and shrub speckled with buttercups. The valley floor was amazing- the tangle of Evelyn creek created swaths of green here and there. It was hard to tell if the land was creating borders for the creek or if the creek was dissecting the land. We were gazing around us in awe when the mosquitoes attacked- squadron after squadron rained down on us. If you waved your hand in front of you, it was a guarantee that you would knock out at least 30 of them.

We hopped over a few streams, but when it came to the main creek we took off our boots and found a shallow place to cross. Once on the opposite bank, we both looked up to the opposite side of the valley and the ridge we needed to climb up to. It looked great up there, and all that separated up from the rest of the route was a 250m climb through dense forest. No problem! I set a bearing on a clearing of trees that straddled the ridge about 50m below tree line, and in we went. The sun was quickly blocked out, and 5 steps into the forest we were in the thick of things. At first, we followed a small stream up that went on roughly the correct bearing, but when it veered off to the North we had to head into the shin tangle. After about 100m the route seemed hopeless. Carmen was laughing- she couldn’t tell if she was standing on root, shrub or rock because the hillside was so choked with pine boughs that you could not see below your own waist. The grade began to get steeper, and I estimated that we had veered to far North so we started correcting. By now it was a tree-to-tree struggle; each step brought a tug from 8 different boughs on 4 separate pieces of clothing. I checked my altimeter, and from the tree line on the map I figured we only had another 30 or so meters to go. We came to a small clearing, and I saw down to the SE the larger clearing I had used to take my original bearing. We had missed the mark, but had come onto the ridge at last. Another 10 minute fight brought us out of the trees, blinking at the sudden day light.

We climbed all the way up the ridge to the 2500m summit above, and had a quick break. Surveying the ridgeline beyond was difficult- it was unclear from here exactly were it went because the line of site was blocked by the massive knoll ahead of us. We knew this section of the scramble would be a roller coaster ride, but from up here the angles seemed much more… angled.

The sun was beginning to cast longer shadows, and the day thus far had been superb. With an easy spirit we tackled our next few obstacles, each one a little rougher than its predecessor. We came to our first little crux after a magnificent 2600m peak; the ridge line was broken here by a 50m rock band that separated us from the ridge’s continuation. After searching out a viable route down, we decided to back track a bit and found our way down some lesser boulders and rejoined the ridge half way down the rock band where the terrain leveled out to a satisfactory degree.

We plunged down to a long, windy col from here, and after a quick break made a fast and steep ascent up to the last and highest point of our day. It was a moonscape of loose shale up here, and we moved closer to the jagged edge and used the solid stone of a few rock bands to help us. At the top, Carmen declared she was pretty much done for and slumped down into a well known position to most distance hikers- the backpack recline. “She’s a natural at this!” I thought. It had taken me years to perfect the stance myself. We figured that it would just be a matter of walking down and off the ridge from here and join the thin brown ribbon of the Skyline trail far below, which would lead us to our campsite. But what lay beyond was much more “interesting”.

Beyond the peak the ridge was a knife edge, and it suddenly came to an abrupt and final finish. A 200m drop seemed to be in the way of our further progression. My guidebook had explained that this bit could be avoided by dropping off the ridge to the South East a short distance before the obstacle and descending down a steep and narrow gully. We again back tracked, and found a steep scree slope that led down to what looked like a promising gully. This is a very dangerous position to be in- entering into an unknown gully could mean disaster. Our options were either to turn back and bivouac for the night at Evelyn Creek (some 4 hours back tracking) then hike back out the next day over the Bald Hills again, or go down the gully and hope it didn’t end at a sheer drop off. After scouring our surroundings for a half an hour, Carmen and I concluded that this must be the route the guide had referred to. We inched our way down into the trough, and stayed close together to avoid rockfall. The gully was a mess of rotten mountain. Staying close to the side, and always conscious of how the potential to climb back out, we made our way down to a point where we could see no further. In the back of my head, I knew that we were now on poor 4th grade terrain without a rope. The gully began to narrow. Through two towering stone walls I saw that this trough met at a right angle with another gully full of deep scree- our route off the mountain was clear. We plunge stepped down through the ankle deep scree, and eventually made it down safely to level ground.

It was 21.30 by now. Both Carmen and I were drained, but stangely elated. We joined the Skyline trail at Shovel Pass, and began a slow decent back down to Evelyn creek. It was twilight by the time we entered the trees again, and we made the last 3 km into camp by headlamp. Tired, hungry but happy we set up the tent and made our camp. A surreal day completed by a meal of my mom’s best dehydrated dinners ever.

We awoke the next morning at around 8.00, long after the sun. After striking camp, we headed back across Evelyn Creek and followed the Skyline trail back down to maligne lake and our red hot ride. We were in a world of our own, smelling flowers and singing songs. Many hikers passed us on their way up the “boulevard”, its great to chat with others heading the opposite direction on the trail.

By 10.00 we were at the car. I was still so early in the day, and so we went down to the old boat house and rented a canoe. The waters were clear, and the mountains soared at every angle above us. Eventually, the rain found us again and so we turned back towards the boathouse and paddled furiously against a strong wind. Nothing ever lasts in the mountains, but I would give any amount of rain and bad weather for just 5 minutes up above it all.

Again, we referred to the Lonely Planet book "Walking in Italy" which we thought would have all the relevant information. It had a good route, but this involved using a cable car to ascend onto the plateau to start the route. We were staying in Palmanova, a town about 2 hours drive away, so we thought we'd check that the cable car was operating. At this point, our information sources in Italy ran dry - no one knew if it was running! In the end we decided to go for it.

We got to the main car park at the bottom of the ski area - which was very nostalgic for Jonathan! There was a great high-ropes course for children at the bottom - and a stationery cable car. Not to be beaten, we thought we'd walk up anyway. Surely it couldn't be that difficult?

The start of the climb was a road that ran parallel to the nursery slope. And then... a beast of a climb up scree that got more and more difficult! I started to lose my sense of humour when we reached snow! The sun was getting hotter and hotter by this point and we were still not at the top. We decided to abandon our attempt at this point as we would have run out of daylight not long after starting the actual route. The top was in sight so turning back was hard to do. However, coming down steep slopes is harder than going up them so it was a sensible decision. 

When we got to the bottom, we looked at the ski map. We'd just walked up a "Red" route. No wonder my legs ached! 

 

My verdict - wait for winter, wait for the cable car - and then ski down it instead!

We used the Lonely Planet "Walking in Italy" book as a starting point but the maps and signage in the area are detailed and accurate. Here is the route:

Start at Lago Superiore near Tarvisio. Head up track 512 which leaves the car park next to the cafe. Follow the footpath signs for 512 up to Rifugio Zacchi. 

This is a constant climb through a beautiful forest - you end up at 1380m at the Rifugio which has great views. The rifugio (mountain hut) network is extensive in the north of Italy. These huts provide accommodation and food in remote mountainous areas. Unfortunately, Rifugio Zacchi was being refurbished when we visited but it is a stunning alpine building - definitely more than your average mountain hut!

From the Rifugio you then follow the track around until you reach the junction with 513. 

There are several routes of Via Ferrata ("iron way" routes for which you need climbing equipment,) that start along this plateau.

The paths can be difficult to distinguish at times because of the numbers of boulders to be climbed over. The cloud came down at this point on our trek, but it was still easy to follow the way even if a little more difficult under foot. At this point we encountered scree - and SNOW! 

This was in June - so you can imagine that the snow is there pretty much most of the time. The going under foot gets quite a bit more difficult here and is not for the faint hearted - hence the "moderate" classification. Good sturdy boots with ankle support are a must on scree. The snow was quite compacted and actually easier to walk on. It wasn't bad enough to warrant crampons on this occasion but you would definitely need them during spring, winter and autumn.

We then took track 517a which starts leading the way down a steep spur. The route is very steep and quite slippery at times until you reach a beautiful alpine meadow where you pick up track 513. This soon rejoins a dirt road which eventually leads you back to the car park at Lake Fusine.

Salama!!

Another update from Africa. After climbing Kilimanjaro, i had to get used to cycling again, as its such a different discipline then walking. BUT, cycling on local style tanzanian bikes, the so called ‘Fonix’, means that you get to hike a lot!! The terrain is quite hilly and there are no gears on a Fonix, so even when you’re going slightly uphill with al your luggage strapped on the back, you will have to get off your bike and walk up the mountain. So basically, i have been cycling and walking in Tanzania! Wycling! What joy!

We have wycled from Moshi towards Karatu, from where we did a safari (jeep, no wycling. Wycling not good when there’s lions around). A sidetrip led us to Lake Eyasi, where we went for a hike around the Lake in search for hippo's! Very exciting, but before we even walked one kilometer, i got stuck.. in the mud. Seriously! The riverbed looked dry but in fact there was soft mud underneath that sucked you in. And i couldnt get out myself, someone had to pull me out of it! Later i heard that whole cars had been swallowed in that riverbed. Guess i was lucky with only fat sticky mud up to my thighs :)

BEeTRoUtE has just begun (www.beetroute08.blogspot.com), the great cycle northwards! Different bikes, and therefore less wycling, i hope :). We might take a break to do Mt. Kenya on the way, but nothing is set in stone.. we'll see. Over and out.

    I was very exited to be invited to participate my first Expedition and especially in Peru and southern America this May. It was organized very quickly and I received the invitation only three weeks prior to the start. Fortunately I had a very good and effective winter behind me doing all sorts of different activities. Mainly on skis, but the basic of the physiques was already established and I knew that three weeks will give me enough time to get my 'chops' back up again.
    After a long and somewhat tiresome flight from Helsinki, through London, New York, Lima to final destination of Cusco took good thirty hours. I was expecting some noticeable effects of the thin air because Cusco lies in a respectful height of 3500 meters above sea level and we arrived there straight from zero ground. For instance at the airport they have this small kiosk, where they sell small canisters of oxygen to relief the acute high altitude symptoms.
    Some also choose to take Diamox and other medications for a relief from lack of O2. I however rather just let my body to take its own time to naturally try to cope with the altitude and thus much better be acclimated. Having said that, I did try the only natural help available at the hotel to ease a little light headedness I felt the first day, a coca leaf tea.

10.5. Saturday.
    Arriving in Cusco and getting settled at the hotel. We took the rest of the day easy, walking around the town and letting our bodies getting better accustomed to the thinner air. It was also nice to have time to get to know the rest of the party and especially the other participants. Trent from USA was yet to arrive, but Everett and Breanne seemed to share the same enthusiasm and appetite for hiking as well as exploring new cultures. As I later got to know Trent a little more, he for sure shared the same passion.

11.5 Sunday
     We woke up at six and had early breakfast. We thought that it would be a good idea to stretch our legs after a long travel and also continue the acclimatizing process with a little exercise. My Chamonix High GTX boots also required more braking in, if I was to wear them during the hike towards Machu Picchu which would be our final destination of the Trek.
    Breanne wasn't feeling too well in the morning and Trent hadn't arrived yet, so Everett and I took a 45 min taxi ride to the mountains outside of Cusco. The idea was to hike about 8 km back to the town over the high mountain pastures and visit two of the many Inca ruins that surround the ancient capital of once great empire.
   

We started our hike from a place called Tambo Machey which once was a temple of fertility. There still is a deep under ground well which origin to this day remains unknown to men.
    From the well we continued to 'hill tops' towards Cuzsco. We reached 3900hm before we started to decent following crests and ridges. On the way down we passed few Sheppard guarding their herds of sheep and lamas on the pastures. It was a great feeling to be out walking over meadows, breathing pure mountain air shy with oxygen. Body felt great after a good night sleep and the absence of Cusco's exhaust fumes was welcoming change too.

High Chamonix were also working fine, even there still was a little problem with the boots tongue and stiff leather around the angle. I still had not been able to 'mould' or soften the front of the boot angle enough. The rigid sole with vibram however was to my liking.
     The weather was perfect, slight overcast with comfortable temperature and we really enjoyed ourselves walking in a tranquil surrounding towards Cusco. We stopped briefly at the site of the Temple of the Moon, which was a rocky structure of caves and hollows. From there we followed the road a little while to reach magnificent ancient dry-stone mason walls of Sacsayhuaman (pronounced 'sexywoman' ;))right above the city.

The afternoon we spent with the film crew shooting the Ecco's street models for the next years catalogue. Totally something that I've never done nor experienced before, but the utmost professional crew made us amateurs feel as comfortable as was possible could.

12.5. Monday
     Wake up call  at 5:00. Finally we're gonna hit the road and head towards the real mountains and the start of the Salkantay Trek. We loaded our gear into two kleinbusses and started the six hour drive from Cusco through little villages and up ever winding road to our first base camp in Soraybamba at 3600-3900hm (I never got the accurate height from our great guide called Leo). We only stopped briefly in a village called Mollepata to set of the cargo mules and their drives.
   

The place was a beautiful valley at the foot of the Cordillera Vilcabamba mountain range. Even though we couldn't see the peaks because of the almost continuous rain and low clouds, one could sure feel that we were surrounded by the majestic, glaciated high summits. 
    After establishing our campsite, we walked around the area filming and getting used to our new Expedition GTX boots. I had some doubts of putting on new pair of boots straight from a box, but the first impression of them were surprisingly good and ensuring.
    I was positively surprised that we were to sleep in the tents in a camping enviroment during the hike. After having a little wash in a stream, there was a well prepared dinner in a community tent.
    I did retire myself at 20:30 and snuggled up into my one-man-tent. Even though it was still raining I really felt content and fell immediately asleep. I got a rude wakeup call before 04:30 by a crazy rooster (I wondered, what in the world were chickens doing in a remote place like this…) and a mad mule with their own morning cacophonic duet.

13.5. Tuesday
    'The great climb'! I knew it was going to be a hard day for all of us as we got ourselves ready before six o'clock. Packed up mules were already protesting loudly underneath their heavy load, since they probably could anticipate the agony ahead.
    We started slowly gaining altitude as we proceeded higher towards a pass between Cerro Salkantay 6271m and Cerro Huamantay 5850m. I was slowly starting to find my 'Inderbinen step' and for which I got the nickname from my colleagues, 'a metronome' (that probably had something to do with the age difference;)).
    It was still raining flurries and snow as we reached the snowline. The whole path was one continuous stream of slippery mud, water and rocks. We reached the altitude of 4100m in which height one can really start to feel the symptoms of the mountain sickness. Especially for the members of the crew, who were at that altitude for the first time, the effects really started to show.
    Slow steps one at the time, trying to watch out for the passing mules, we progressed higher and higher. It took us little over four hours to reach the Salkantay col at 4600m. I was so proud and impressed of everybody, that with no whining and no complaining despite the pain, everyone walked them selves up to the top. Especially Michael with less experience and Mette suffering from the bad knee really showed true character and tough spirit.
  

Rest of the day was downhill for a couple of hours to our 2nd base camp at 3900m. For a short period of time the weather tried to improve and we stopped to this beautiful valley to admire those gorgeous peaks which were occasionally showing themselves through the clouds. But then the rain continued to pour down as we continued down to the camp site. I was truly impressed how well the Expedition Boots functioned the whole day being put through the mud bath for six hours. With no hot spots not to mention without single skin brake and even my socks were dry. Come to think of it, I probably didn't even think of my feet once during the day. Tents up and ready for the night. Just before the nightfall, clouds again gave away a little and I could see the magnificent glaciated peaks of Salkantay and Huamantay. My tent canvas was rattling to the sound of falling rain and flurries. It was to be very cold and damp night and as the rain was finally slowing down, I was already sleeping.

14.5. Wednesday
     05:00 and I was shivering from the cold. My summer weather sleeping bag obviously wasn't adequate. My thermometer showed that it had been -4c inside the tent during the night. Outside temperature was for sure much lower. I crawled out of the tent and looked for my boots. If I was cold and feeling little uncomfortable, my boots have had much rougher night. The yak leather being soaked from wet and covered with mud were now completely frozen solid. I thought that there is no way in hell, I can put them on. Positive amazement once again when I found out that the inside of the boots were completely dry and even being little cold, they warmed up in five minutes and felt perfect.
    After normal morning hassle, we fold up our tents, packed the mules and started the days trek down the mountain. The weather had finally cleared and it looked like it was going to be a glorious day. Now we could see the beautiful white peaks around us as the rising sun was painting them in so many different shades of orange.
   

For some reason I always feel little melancholy and blue when I have to leave the mountains behind. That happens to me in the Alps as well when after the climb, I have to leave the summit and decent back to the village in the valley again.
   

The days hike was easy down hill for few hours. Again that day Peru showed its natures great diversity. In the morning we started in a cold high mountain environment, but in a few hours entered this almost jungle like hot and humid impenetrable vegetation zone. The plants completely changed shape and size in front of your eyes and the amount of different butterflies was staggering. Our superb guide Leon knew pretty much every plant and animal in the mountains and it was really interesting to listen how he explained medical usage and purpose of many herbs and roots. Also to be able to see at the same time tiny little hummingbird hovering above an orchid flower and a majestic condor soaring high in the blue skies imprinted an image to my mind, which would last forever.
    Our third camp was this luxurious lodge on a mountain side facing jungle gorges. It was really pleasant to sit down on a patio with a bottle of Cusqueña and a plate full of barbequed guinea pig and enjoy the warmth of the sun. I for some reason still did miss the higher mountains and the cosiness of my tent in a harsh mountain weather. There is something real in a situation, when you don't have the luxury of a warm bed and shower and you have to find the pleasure out of the hardship and cope with it. Those are the moments that truly make me feel alive.

15.4. Thursday
     At six o'clock we all stretched our muscles and continued our decent to a cloud forest bio zone. Now we truly were walking in a jungle towards a turn point at the end of remote dirt road, where we were to be picked up the klienbusses again.
    Walking was easy on a hard and dry downhill path. During those few days walking with the Expedition Boots I really did not have any problems with the boots.
    The Expedition boots are without the doubt the most comfortable boots I've used on a hike so far and the yak leather proved to be very tough and resilient material.
    We were transported by the vans to the 'hydro elecktric' train station for a short train trip to the Machu Picchu town called Aquas Calientes.
    The statue of Gran Pachacutec who united the Inca tribes in mid 16th century was guarding the central square of the Aquas Calientes by of which our hostel located. Pachacutec was an Inca royalty who also after bringing the tribes together in a civil war torn country established the town of Cusco and started to build the Machu Picchu. The whole place of Aquas Calientes reminded me of some forgotten hippie pilgrim town with the whirl of tourists waiting to see one of the world's seven wonders. The town was guarded by these massive almost perpendicular sugar top mountains, which made the place feel almost like a miniature town with little alleys, shops and restaurants.

    Hiram Bingham discovered the Machu Picchu in 1911 and probably was the first white man ever to set foot on those perfectly carved brick streets. Pizarro and his conquistadores never entered nor tried to find the Machu Picchu even though that Pachacutec had to claim the right to rule that area of Urubamba valley from the spaniards.
    Hiram Bingham, who was a historian from the Yale University, first thought that he had found the last Fortress of Incas, but later archaeologies have come to different conclusion. The studies have shown, that the Machu Picchu most likely has been a holy city and a some sort of a market place, where different tribes from different parts of Peru traded their goods.
    It most certainly was a Lost City and was populated by royalty, priests and craftsmen. There are many indications of the incredible knowledge that the Incas had about geometry, architecture, dry-stone mason and astrology.
    Gods who the Incas worshipped, where mostly in some way nature related. But especially the sun, the moon and the stars with their movement and positions were very important and often played crucial role in the architecture for instance.
    Many of the cities in Peru are in conjunction with each other according to the travel of the sun. They all also have places that tell the exact time of the year by shadows or the illuminations into the walls or hallways. In Machu Picchu the most important one is the Intihuathana stone. 

16.5. Friday
    We all queued amongst the herds of other tourist for a bus ride up to the Machu Picchu. The day once again, like the past two days had been, was perfect. The cloudless sky was turning from pale to bright as the rising sun was starting to chase away the chill of the night.
    The scale of the Machu Picchu is astonishing to experience, even from the countless photographs everybody's familiar with. But to stand there in person and witnessing the whole panorama is almost incomprehensible. On top of that narrow steep sided mountain watching the perfect architecture of dry-stone mason walls and houses, giant steps of grain field terraces, temples and holy places which combine other cities around Peru with perfect alliance of asthro-geometric order, makes you feel utmost respect towards the greatness and power of ancient Inca civilisation.
    On the narrow passages with hundreds of other tourists we scrambled our way towards the distinguished high peak at the far end of the Machu Picchu. That prominent peak is called Wayna or Huayna Picchu and is a place of important Inca temples.
    Wayna Picchu (the Young Mountain) used to be the residence of the high priest and the local virgin. The summit is some 360m higher than the city of Machu Pichu and lies at the altitude of 2720m. The entry to that mountain is restricted to 400 persons/day and it takes a good effort to climb there along very narrow and steep ancient staircases.
    About half an hour later (we had to queue and thus were very late in our schedule. It was a bit faster than I would have preferred, but these young people have so much more fire power ;)) we reached the top with Breanne, Everett and Trent. Rich and Jon from the crew followed shortly behind.
    The panorama from there was utterly overwhelming. The Machu Picchu looked like a postage stamp photo from a tourist guide. The surrounding of heavily vegetated perpendicular mountains made the scenery look almost ominous. I was deeply moved by all this and when I found a good spot at the end of one rock formation away from the people to sit on, I almost felt the tears in my eyes. The tranquillity, the scale of the site and the fact that you can share this experience with people and friends alike just felt incredibly fulfilling. I have become to be accustomed to high places, but to sit on the edge of 500 year old balcony with your feet hanging some 700m above the ground was really powerful.
  

    Coming down we visited the Temple of the Moon on the other side of the Wayna Picchu and had a pretty good exercise climbing back up to the Machu Picchu it self. Back at the Aquas Calientes we needed to do a wrap up interview with the camera, which turned out to be really hard and emotional thing for me.
    The crazy train trip from Aquas Calientes to Ollantaytambo was at least memorable. Through the class ceiling you could still see the glaciers while enjoying a bizarre theatrical play followed by the alpaca fashion show.
    The van transport from Ollantaytambo village was more than memorable. Since it was Friday, there were these religious celebrations combining pagan and catholic religious features going on in those little villages. Many times we had to stop because of some parade with masked dancers and animal figures causing chaos to the rhythm of drums and flutes.
     In the last village before Cusco we (Sherpas) stopped to participate the fiesta and had a couple of celebration cervezas. The hospitality and friendliness of local people is incredible and we really enjoyed ourselves in that simple little bar with the street side grill and down to business baño. That really put the icing on the cake and made a profound conclusion to our endeavour, most definitely leaving unforgettable memories to last a life time.

 My sincere thanks belong to all of those involved. The crew and the 'Sherpas'. We've climbed and shared wonderful experiences together and that truly reserves a special place in my heart.

 Hope to see you in the mountains somewhere, sometime!

Happy Landings!

Hannu

Our main goal for this spring trip was to do some high glacier hiking and trying to summit Mont Blanc and Mont Maudit. The pre-trip weather forecast promised unsettled weather and possibly heavy rain, or snow, so we were not that convinced for possibility of higher peaks.

Our suspicion was confirmed when we arrived to Chamonix at Friday afternoon. Big snowflakes came heavily down and the whole village looked like it was mid January. It continued to snow pretty much the whole week and there was more than two meters of fresh snow up in the high peaks. It was also very cold higher up, so the summiting thoughts had to be postponed.

Day 1 Saturday 22.3. Grands Montets Bochard / Lavancher.

The clouds gave away and beautiful sunny day shone to snow covered landscape. We rushed to the nearest ticket office in Brevent just to find out that we certainly were not the only ones to head up to powdery slopes. I've never seen so many people to queue to the Brevent condola. Add to that all lifts were closed until the afternoon to give the piste control time to blast possible avalanches from above.

In the afternoon we took a buss ride to Grands Montets hoping to get few runs to get the feel for the skis again. We took Bochard condola and were positively surprised that there actually were not that many tracks going to uncroomed  Chamois bowl. That vast bowl in the most western part of GM is one of the best places to be after every snowfall, but you have to be quick since it is very rapidly skied through. We were lucky to have four runs of light, deep powder between 100-140 cm. With a BIG smile we concluded the day by skiing the Lavancher. A little bit combat skiing, but well worth it and a cold beer at the Chambre Neuf was also well earned.

 
Day 2 Sunday 23.3.  Flegere and Brevent colour.

It had snowed the whole night and the day was grey and still snowing. We went up to Flegere and took the Index lift. The visibility was poor and we skied only few runs of powder by 'gut feeling' since the contrast was completely zero. We then changed the area to Brevent side and skied down one of the steep forest colours which take you back to village. Once again very nice snow and the contrast in the woods was much better.

  In the evening we enjoyed an excellent meal at this little cosy restaurant by Rue des Moulins called Le Chaudron.

Day 3. Monday 24.3. Midi Col du Plan and ice climbing.

Clear morning and we couldn't resist the temptation to go to the Aiguille du Midi to admire the glacier and perhaps scout possible routes to Blanc or Maudit. As soon as we arrived to the top, one could tell that there was noticeable amount of fresh snow up on the wide northern wall of Blanc, Maudit and Tacul without a single track going up. That confirmed our prediction that it wasn't time to try to push for the summits.

  After basic preparation at the cafeteria, chocolate chaud and harnesses on, we continued down the crest of the Midi towards the start of Col du Plan route. In between the seracs we skied down and once again had a tremendous pleasure of deep powder skiing. We stopped for an hour or so at the corner of Mer de Glace to do some ice climbing in the serac zone.

Day 4. Tuesday 25.3. Midi skinning to south side of Mont Blanc.

Back up again to that glaciated paradise to do first bit of skinning. Basic route down the Valle Blanche underneath the Hellbronner condola to the start of legendary climb of one of the toughest routes in the Mont Blanc range, the east face of the Grand Capucin (first climbed by the great Italian climber Walter Bonatti 1951). After admiring that magnificent pinnacle, we put on the skins and started to ski upwards in the maze of crevasses to the upper part of the Geant Glassier. We stopped for a picnic at the height of 3500m and had an incredible view to this giant amphitheatre formed by Arete de la Brenva and peaks of Mont Maudit and Mont Blanc du Tacul. Being moved by this stupendous scenery, we started to decent down the glassier on skis getting mesmerised from the sparkle of billions of diamonds glittering on the surface of a virgin snow.       

Day 5. Wednesday 26.3. Flegere, Index and Lachenal.

Dumping snow…still. Poor visibility and we ended up waiting half an hour in one spot outside the piste called Floria just to find a safe way down. But still skiing in a deep snow all day and had some really great runs in Combe Lachenal and we concluded the day by skiing down one of the avalanche chutes to Flegere. Apres at C9 again and in the evening some jazz and great beer in the MBC (Micro Brewery of Chamonix).

Day 6. Thursday 27.3. Grands Montets with skinning to Col du Passon.

The weather looked like 50-50. It seemed that it could clear up towards the afternoon. We queued up to the top of GM at 3300m, where we spent some half an hour watching rather ominous looking huge cumulus clouds. The weather was also getting warmer as the sun shone through rapidly passing clouds.

  We decided to try to reach Col du Passon anyway since there was quite good track going up. Therefore there would be good reference and guideline if the visibility should diminish too much.

The start from the GM down to Glassier d'Argentiere along the Rognon glassier was once again superb skiing in near waist-deep powder.

  As we grossed the Argentier glassier the sun was blazing from the sky between the clouds and radiating back up from the snow. That made the skiing across the glassier  feel really tiring and face felt like burning (it probably was). After that relatively flat section we put on the skins and started to climb up towards the col. The elevation to be gained is about 750 hm and half way up the clouds covered the sky completely and it started to snow. We waited underneath the final very steep and narrow section for about half an hour for visibility to return, but it did not. We decided to push for the col anyway and hope that the weather would improve a little. The final climb was actually very enjoyable steep crusty snow between high mountain walls in a narrow canyon.

  We reached the top of col at 3030m and unfortunately there was complete whiteout waiting for us.

That meant that the planned decent to the village of Le Tour via glassier route was out of the question and we had to make a return trip to Argentiere. So skis on and tricky slide through the steep and narrow colour we've just climbed and then trying to make turns in a rotten snow following our climbing tracks.

  All and all good sporty day and satisfactory climb to the col…..so couple in C9 was earned.

 
Day 7. Friday 28.3. Midi to Hellbronner to Courmayer terasse.

A glorious day, as it seemed when we started. Same start as the day nr. 4, but we now skinned up to the Hellbronner condola on the Italian side. Rather easy, obvious treck on skis and we thought that it would be nice to go and see, how the snow was on the southern side of the range.

  I made a little hassle with my ropes coming down underneath the steely staircase and had to climb back up a little sort out my line…idiot…me. Well the skiing down was…well…awful struggle in a sun soften, frozen again, icy clobs, wet snow with hard crust cover. So, we were more than happy to finally reach the mid station in Coumayer Terasse. We took three cable cars to get back up to the Hellbronner again. We received a bit odd, but quite nice support from a group of Japanese tourists at the top as they gave us thumbs up signs and slaps on the back. Reason for that was quite likely the fact that the weather had turned bad on the Valle Blanche and we were heading there with our skis. Despite the bad visibility we enjoyed really nice decent in a powder (the snow was so much better on the north side of mountain. Even the route is very familiar we skied downwards attentively in poor contrast to watch out for the crevasses.

  All and all great day in the mountains again.

Day 8. 29.3. Midi, Col du Plan.

The last day on this trip. We made a tribute to one of my favourite scenery in the world and skied the Endvers du Plan from the east side of Gros Rognon. Surprise, surprise, there was still some places to find powder ski. When we stopped at the Refuge de Requin for some lunch, we calculated that we've enjoyed eight consecutive days of powder ski. Not that bad for a substitute for summiting the four-thousanders.

Until we meet again!

The Geraldine valley and lakes are an interesting place for a long day hike. The valley itself is a massive stair case. On each landing sits a brilliant gem of a lake, fed by the surrounding glacier and snow run-off and. These flat sections are serious and hard-going. Loose talus and unstable boulder fields make up the embankments, and the green impenetrable wall of the forest means that while route finding is easy the way through is not. At the head of each lake is a sheer wall (the highest being over 90m), over which tumbles spectacular falls. And so it goes all the way up the valley- each of the 4 lakes spilling over a cliff and feeding the one below.

There is a medium grade ascent for the first 300m climb from the trail head, up through dense forest. It had started raining as soon as we shouldered our packs, and it was clear from the mud that the lower elevations had been snow bound only a week or two ago. Substantial rain had also fallen here over the past week. Slippery roots and ankle deep mud made the going tough, but at the top of the first climb we were rewarded with a great view of the first lake as the valley leveled out at the first landing. A cold wind blew off the lake, and combined with the freezing rain that was quickly turning to sleet we were all chilled through by the time we were half way around the forest lined basin.

At the head of the lake was a tangle of inflowing snow runoff streams from the surrounding peaks, and we found a way through without soaking our boots. A steep and slippery ascent along sidethe roaring outflow of the lake above was next, and just as we were entering the second landing the rain and wind stopped; and it was good luck too- just in front of us was a huge talus slope of jagged and moss covered limestone chunks. We took a short break during witch some of the stone dried out enough for us to venture on safely. I lead the group up the slope, carefully picking each stone as I weighted it. This was prime ankle twisting terrain. At the top we encountered our first little snow field, and we were now approaching the tree line. We made a beeline between two moraines that formed a gateway in the choked valley, and crossed over to the other side of a small pond that I mistook for the second lake.

At the top of this landing a huge waterfall was roaring over a stunning vertical headwall. The wall itself dominated our view point to the South, squeezed between two unnamed peaks that formed this valley. The peak to the East of our direction of travel was a rubble heap- this was clearly an avalanche prone slope, and the debris of fresh avalanches was clearly visible. While the danger on these slopes had clearly past, twisted and broken tree branches that were still soft and green littered obvious avalanche paths. The slopes on the opposing face were much different- much steeper and shaded, every five minutes or so we could here the rumble and thunder of small avalanches far up the mountain.

A thick band of trees hid the layout of the land between the pond we were skirting and the headwall. I jokingly offered my brother $40 if he stripped down and jumped in the pond; he declined the offer, pointing out the ice blocks along the banks. On exiting the forest, we encountered a broad, flat talus field of about 1km long by 300m wide. It was a vast reminder of the glaciers that had not long ago ridden these valleys, carving them and reshaping the mountains as they ground and churned everything in their path. We had a quick lunch break a short distance from the thundering waterfall, then picked a line up the head wall. On the West side of the valley was a suspect looking path on the lower slopes of the steep mountain face. It laced us loose scree, and none of us were too keen on hiking below the clear avalanche paths that ran down the slope. We decided to stay on the East side, and found our way up the scree on this side for about 100m until we hit snow.

My brother and I stepped out first on the late season snow, and traversing steeply we made for a small rocky ridge just above to see what was beyond. I led, kick stepping the way for my brother, who cleaned up my steps into a staircase for the other two that would follow. We only had one ice axe with us, and so the steps would need to be very safe. From the ridge, we had a fantastic view of the next valley floor from slightly above. The next lake was the largest of the chain, and the valley here was broad and flat, surrounded by 2500-3000m peaks. A clear way through the alpine scrub lead to the banks of the lake. Michelle and Carmen were soon up with us, and as we made our way down the other side of the head wall the sun tore through the clouds. We all stripped down and were soon excitedly chattering away.

We were now in the open alpine. I joked with Carmen that I often hike more than three or four hours up 1000m slopes just to spend an hour or two up in these altitude; up here, with no trees the world is crystal clear. Wind blows and water carves out the terrain and everything feels raw and real. There is a feeling of unbridled and primal energy in the alpine, and I would gladly double an approach hike just to be able to grab hold of a sliver of this feeling.

We kept along the East bank of the lake again, and negotiated the boulder fields once again. It was harder because the boulders were larger, but less risky because they were not mossy or wet. We crossed some steep snow a few times, directly above the navy blue and uninvitingly cold looking water. A wind was blowing up from the valley above and huge curls of cloud that had settled in below us were hitting the headwall we had just climbed and swirling upwards. We stood still for a moment, and listen to the ethereal tinkle and crash the collision of vast paper thin ice patties on the lake were produceing. It was a sound I have never really heard before- right before our eyes ice was forming and destroying itself, creating the music of a thousand crystal bells all striking against each other.

For the next hour or so, we ambled around the lake to its inlet where we again had a break at a back country campsite. The valley beyond was not visible, but what could be seen looked snow choked and difficult. We had already taken some 5 hours to reach this point, and decided to leave the upper two lakes for another visit.

Clouds were quickly moving in and a gentle snow began to fall as we turned around and headed back towards the other end of the lake. I was worried about bad weather setting in again, and pushed our group to move a little faster. I did not want to negotiate the steep talus slopes in pouring rain. Just as soon as they had come in, the clouds took off and as we approached the lip or the headwall again we were again basking in the sun.

I was half way across the snow when something came over me and I decided I wanted to glissade. I jumped out of the carefully made steps we had made on our way up, and started sliding down the hill. Some 75m down, I quickly flipped over and self arrested just above a rocky section.My brother followed suit, but using a trekking pole as a break. He began his arrest much sooner that I had- it took much longer to slow down without an ice axe. For the next half hour we all took turns sliding down the snow slope- it was a beautiful day, we were outside and in the mountains, and acting like a kid again seemed like the best response to the situation.

We took another route down the scree slope that brought us right to the plunge pool of the waterfall. The power of water is always astounding, but in early June as the snowmelt really gets going this waterfall was awesome. After a quick photo session we made our way quickly down to the next valley landing and the first lake.the hike out was uneventful except for a chance encounter with a porcupine. We scared the animal, who had been digging right beside the path. He waddled over to a tree, and slowly began climbing his way up. We must have really frightened him- you could see him panting and he was trembling all over. On reaching the car, a quick decision was made- we would head directly into Jasper for beer and pizza. It would be good for group morale. That evening we made sat around a fire and watched the sun set- at nearly 23.00.

 

On a calm, lightly clouded day in the beginning of July, we took the ferry to the south side of the fjord to climb the mountains I looked at every day through my childhood. A great experience!

 Map:  NORGE 1: 50 000         Blad  1218 IV           Ålfoten       (STATENS KARTVERK)

The trip started at a steep forest road.

 No trail, but in an open terrain like this, that is no problem. 

Walking on dry rocks and mountain is very easy.

 A lot of snow, but no problem.

Looking back to the north side of the fjord, where I grew up and still have my mountain paradise.

 On the top of Klakegga, 1093 masl. Great wiev

                                 A lot of snow, even if it`s July.

We had a lot of breaks to enjoy the great wiev. Here we are looking west, to Bremanger and the ocean.

A special mountain formation in south.

A lot of ups and downs on this trip. Here we go down to Kvitsanden 658 masl, before climbing to the top of Troda, 954 masl.

Traditional mountain huts. The cellar for the cattle, the cabin for the milkmaid. Today there are no cattle and no milkmaidens, but the cabins are in good repair, and the owners use them for recreation.

 Troda, 954 metres above sea level. Great wiev in all directions :-)

A sheep with her two lambs looking at us. Behind them we can see Frøysjøen, Bremanger and Hornelen.

Davik, where our trip ended after 8 hours.