One picture Tuesday

Because the get Everest 2015* training has started and because winter is upon us: check out the green!!! This is something I had not noticed last year about South Australia: it rains a lot in winter, so the grass is so fucking awesomely green!!

* or, if the Everest plans do not come through, the "be your fittest you will ever be by May 2015 because YEAH BITCHES!"

Bugger all

Learnt this expression from one of my students this year. To cut a very long story short, no summit.


Longer story. Shitty weather for Mount Cook with high avalanche warnings for the only good weather day in the trip.
Decided to change to Mt. Aspiring and gamble on that good weather day. Flew in at Bevan Col and walked to Colin Todd hut. Summit attempt started out quite good but then backed out when reached the ridge because of 80 km/h winds and a complete whiteout.

Came back to Colin Todd and walked out to French Ridge Hut in a complete whiteout -> glacier travel in whiteout FTW!  (GPS for the win!) And then from French Ridge to Wanaka with some river crossings etc thrown in the mix. I froze and soaked in the same day.

I am quite depressed however I am having a blast with my guide! She is 51 (FIFTY ONE!), insanely fit and is the first female to summit everest without o2 (in 1988!!!) (http://www.lydiabradey.com/index.html) There might be a good day on Saturday and we might do the double cone - single cone traverse in the remarkables (alpine 2+) or we might not.

Sigh. 2012 has not been a good year sportswise. Did not climb mount cook, did not finish a sub 4 marathon, did not finish six foot track (because i didn't run it ... ).  It was a good year careerwise, which is hinting at maybe that I can't give 110% to work and 110% to climbing? And that probably 100% to work and 120% to climbing will not work as well? At least the consolation is that Lydia says that I'm strong so there might be a chance that I might be.

Gotta go and change my clothes. Still soaked. Pictures of whiteout attached. Team is 15 m in front. Sigh. I don't know whether the tears are frustration tears as you can't (apparently!) change the weather or they're tiredness tears.

One picture Tuesday

Spot me! We did this sharp and steep route in the first day. I found it not too hard (easy!) but my teammates found it difficult, so we sort of mellowed after that. It does not look like it in the photo, but it's a loong way down to those crevasses.

Heh

Summitting Single cone in the Remarkables on Wednesday on ice and snow for a 12 hour summit day, and picking 8kg of cherries (only 4 kg left!) on Sunday. In other words, I'm back for a week and getting psyched to mark my exams and do some research before tackling mount cook next week. It has just dawned on me just how difficult Mount Cook is, having experienced the New Zealand grading scheme for alpine ascents. ah well, in the quiet words of the poet, "suck it up, buttercup!"

As I'll be immensely busy this week, posts will mostly be (glaciated) pictures.

Packed!

And psyched!!!

9. more. days.

And so much happening until then. Like the bird arriving tomorrow. The bird! Here! In Australia!!! AARGH! Grampians woo hoo!!!

Now, I must admit that I have no idea where I'm going. I mean, I know I'm going to New Zealand. To do an advanced mountaineering course. And then climb mount cook. If the weather holds. And my students give me enough positive karma (or not enough negative karma) to keep me alive.

But I am absolutely clueless as to which town I'm going to (just checked the tickets, it seems I'm flying in to Queenstown) and what happens from there. No fucking idea. I think I will be automagically transported to a place. From which the course starts. And I think there's a book. That I have to read. In between marking zillions of assignments and writing two (TWO) journal papers. And doing course re-design. And climbing. And training. And entertaining the bird. And I think I have to manage a budget. And write an exam. Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows? Who needs sleep anyway?!

And there's gear that I have to buy. Next week. I think. It was on a list. That I made today. When I got halfway I realized it was already two pages long so I stopped adding things to it and tore it and threw it away. Or did I? And we're in the middle of setting up some supercalifragilisticexpialidocious projects for our students!! They will put software into space!! For REAL!!! I think. Maybe. Help! :)

Anyway, what I do know (heh) is that I'm super psyched about all of this!! Even though the last time we went to New Zealand things were not as pretty as I remember them:

Sweet thoughts

Until I started to actually earn something, I used borrowed gear for all my mountaineering trips. And by gear I mean everything other than backpack and boots, as gore-tex and merino base layers and crampons and harnesses and ropes and helmets and poles and gloves and beanies etc were very expensive. This always resulted in me wearing clothes that were too big for me and had weird color combinations, making for very very funny pictures. For example, I used a down jacket that was size XL for Aconcagua. It was very good (kept my knees warm too!) but it made me look like a very very fat blue! penguin. With an orange beanie!

I cannot begin to say how much my mother opposes me doing any type of climbing and mountaineering, and long distance running for that matter. Oh, and trail running. And bungee jumping. She would really love it if I did more tennis, not-long-distance running, and frankly, would be very happy if the only sport I did was chess. She gets so disturbed and so worried about any trip I take (probably more disturbed as she ages), that I don't even tell her anymore. All of our grampians trips have been "trekking with friends". I did not tell her about the last Alps trip (and had to take the photos down from picasa as well), and I will not tell her about New Zealand either. At least not about Mount Cook. When I went to Aconcagua she checked (and worried) about the wind conditions and the weather conditions and every fucking little thing more than we did. She, of course, had interwebs, which we didn't.

Even with all this, when I went in my first alpine climbing trip, she bought me a (very expensive for Romania) pair of crampons that I badly needed and I didn't have money for as I was at the time a poor-er PhD student. That pair of crampons turned out to be the first technical alpine piece of gear I owned. I have yet to take them out and look at them but here is a photo of how they looked when they were new:

I BOUGHT THE TICKETS!!!

Today I bought the tickets for what will probably be this year's bestest trip. I will be going to New Zealand for an advanced mountaineering school for two weeks. Then, following what looks and feels at this point like a stupid sense of responsibility, I will come back and mark my students' exams ... Hopefully this will not earn me too many bad karma points because after this, weather permitting, I will return to New Zealand to climb Mount Cook.

Following previous missed trips and flights and issues with dates etc. I did ask somebody to check my first New Zealand trip, only to realize after I bought tickets the for the second leg that I didn't ask anybody to check them. Ah well ... I guess I have to learn one way or another.

But enough about that little minor issue (who needs plane tickets anyway?) and more to the important one: Training must start yesterday!! Goodbye carbs, the few sips of alcohol that I had been indulging myself (I actually had a half glass of wine for my cousin's wedding), the tons of durians that I planned to consume while back in Adelaide (note to Dodo: I still want durian on Friday, ok?!), goodbye extra time spent with students, and, more importantly, goodbye dinners! ... and welcome  heavy backpacks, steep hills, stair repeats, early early morning treks through waterfall and chambers gully. Sigh. In a former life I was a queen.

ROAR!

Humility

An article about David Graham contained this quote:

Never think you’re that cool. You’re still just climbing rocks in the woods with bugs, and everyone thinks you’re crazy.

I've always been humble when facing mountains. Especially when facing rock faces and/or ice waterfalls, a mix of awe and humility shoots through me and I'm stunned and just sit there with a stupid grin on my face.

In the past weeks something new has moved into the picture. I've become apprehensive. I'm not sure why, but while the perspective of facing (ahem) death, cold and/or fatigue is does no longer extract 100% squeals of excitement from me, but there is now a tiny drop of realization that if something happens to me, other people, i.e. my family, friends, and (!) students, might suffer in some remote way. Or maybe is the realization of just how good life is (see previous post) that makes me be apprehensive about losing it?

Or maybe, I'm just getting old.

One picture Tuesday

It was love at first sight.

Citing from wikipedia:
"Aoraki / Mount Cook is the highest mountain in New Zealand, reaching 3,754 metres (12,316 ft).^[1] It lies in the Southern Alps, the mountain range which runs the length of the South Island. A popular tourist destination,^[2] it is also a favourite challenge for mountain climbers. Aoraki / Mount Cook consists of three summits lying slightly south and east of the main divide, the Low Peak, Middle Peak and High Peak, with the Tasman Glacier to the east and theHooker Glacier to the west."

With a bit of luck* and hopefully not to big of a negative karma from my students, in December 2012 I would have safely gotten to the summit and back. 

*And what looks like a ginormous amount of training.

And so it begins

Come this november, I will be going to an Advanced Mountaineering school taking place in New Zealand. This school is important in many ways, most of which I will not mention here yet, for fear of jinxing them. Nevertheless, I'm going to New Zealand! Again! for an Advanced Mountaineering school!

Rejoice! Wait, no.

Train!

For Aconcagua, i trained twice a week by running uphill on the only hill in Singapore, Vigilante Drive, carrying what seemed like tonnes of water. That training was extremely convenient as the hill was very very close to the NUS campus. This time, there ain't no vigilante drive, and the closest serious hill is 10 km away from school. This means that at least once (if not twice) a week, i will (again) have to wake up at a crazy hour to get my ass out of the bed and house, in order to go walking/running up what is a very gully. 

This would mean that I won't be able to sleep in (i.e. until 7am) on Monday (lecture at 9am), Tuesday (running), Thursday (running), Friday (Chambers Gully), Sunday (running).  Sigh. 

What I would really wish would be for google to have a hill-finding function such that I could locate the steepest hill in the vicinity of the school - i.e. the hill that gives me the best workout / meter. 

Gunung Ledang - Mt. Ophir

Yes! We went to Gunung Ledang and despite everything, we managed to get to the top as well! As in all "expedition" stories where a lot of people say they are coming, in the end for various reasons it was just the two of us, Marian and I that is. Oh well, you could say the three of us because I swear he fondles his new iPhone 3Gs more than ... erm, he listens to me!
This trip had two purposes, other than just going in the hills, yay!!: a) to test our new boots, and b) to introduce urban friends to the art (and it is an art, people!) of camping. Point b) having failed as mentioned, we were down to point a) only. And test our boots we did. And our patience. Before we go on I want to say that Marian was in charge of planning this trip - how we get there, where we camp, when we trek, etc.

Day 1
We left home at around 6:30 am and finally left JB at around 9:30 am. We took the bus to Segamat from Larkin, and amazingly, it started almost on time. The bus ride took about 3 hours during which time I finished "The Kite Runner" which I had just started. I get a lot of negative points for this because a) I had tears flowing down my cheeks and booger marks on my pants (figure it out how it got there) for the entire bus ride, and b) I didn't have anything else to read for the entire trip (except food wrapping, but i've read that on previous trips so there are no surprises there, baby!)

From Segamat we took another bus towards Muar and ask the driver to drop as at Gunung Ledang. Marian volunteers that we should be there soon because there are about 5-6 km. After 40 minutes or so he takes out the map for the first time since he had started to plan. I gasp "what do you mean there's a 3 km dirt road from where the bus leaves us?!" at which point Marian quickly hides the map away. Ah well, to make a very long story short, the bus driver left us at the entrance to Gunung Ledang Resort (Pintu A - or gate A) which was about 1 km asphalt from the main road. After we got to the resort, we found out that we were supposed to be at the other entrance, Pintu B, which involved either a) a strong right turn through the palm tree forest (it had No trespassing! signs with one stick figure shooting another) or b) going back to the main road, walking for 2 km on it, reaching Pintu B and then going for 3 km on the dirt road. We toyed with option a) for a while including a stop in the palm tree forest to have a good refreshing fight, and then decided to try our boots on asphalt.

I know this is a picture of my back, but can you see that I am fuming? I calmed down in the end because last time when I did the planning I DID lead us to an uncrossable river.


And below is the palm tree forest.


We finally got to the Lagenda trail entrance at around 4pm. To make a long story short, the rangers told us that camping is STRICTLY prohibited at CP4 where we planned to camp. Instead, we camped at the foot of the mountain, near a creek.


We settled all our debts: 140 RM for the guide omg omg, 70 RM for the car that would take us back to Segamat (for this money i would have walked the 5-6 km except that in reality they were FORTY km), 20 RM per head for camping, 40 RM deposit for the trash etc etc. All in all the fabulous sum of 304 RM. We only had 300 RM so Marian gave the guide 2 SGD. By 5 pm the tent was up and i brewed us each some cup noodles.


By 6:30 pm dinner was ready - mashed potatoes with salad - so we stuffed our faces and retired for the night.



Marian stayed outside to read while i killed time in the tent.


Guess who's the tidiest walker ...


Day 2
This story is actually not very long... We woke up at 06:30 am to pack up camp. Declared everything we were taking on the mountain (including underwear) at the ranger's office, got a little briefing from one of the rangers - he said the trek took 6 hours to go up and 4 hours to come down - but that generally smaller groups made it faster, and then we were off.
We managed to reach the summit and be down in 5:40 hours to the dismay of our guide who was coming down with a cold - he had to stop from time to time to cough his lungs out. The trek was ok, with some steeper portions but very tamed with ladders and ropes.



Reached a cave (Goat cave i think) which is again very tamed with plenty of ladders and ropes.



Then a sequence of rock faces the last of which was the most serious.


The last rock face has maybe five meters of vertical wall and then about 6 more of a slab.
Very nice views and at the top you reach a bonsai forest.




Next up was Botak Hill (Bald hill - i know because there's a food chain here called Botak Jones) which, you got it, was totally bald.


Some more boulders, some more rocks and we were on the summit. No exciting views because everything was super fogged.


Marian as I said, was busy with his new iPhone.


And down we went. I spotted a lot of plants and insects and animals this time!

Nepenthes rafflesiana - giant raffles pitcher plant:


Spider:


Unknown phallic flower Ginger flower (thanks doris!):


Orchid


Unknown bug


Malyasian horned frog:


On our very fast descent we met some singaporeans that were descending also. We had not met them on the way up and one girl did say that they had camped but I did not ask how come (too shy). The rangers again stated after we asked that you cannot camp, so i don't know the story of this. Ah well ... at least the mountain is super clean! Chop chop again and we were back in Singapore by 7pm eating at Botak Jones of course!

The rest of the pictures, as usual, are here.

His and hers

Marian's: (on sale, 220 SGD)


Mine: (on sale, 125 SGD - Woo hoo!!!!)


New Zealand tickets - Bought!
Trekking boots - Bought!
Fitness - cannot buy unfortunately :((

Rocks are meant to fall

So we finally managed to get ready, Radu finally woke up (sort of) and proceed to the beginning of the Hornli Ridge route on Matterhorn. I had been dreaming about this route on an off for about 8 years now. And here begins the chase. It was still pitch dark (3:45 am) and we couldn't see the route so we had to really hurry about the teams of guide and client that where very far from us. We were the second last team to climb, followed by a japanese guy and his wife (they would turn back in the end).

Mistake no 1: Instead of going in a team of 2, we went in a team of 3. This meant that our time doubled.

Mistake no. 2: We took a rookie with us. Rookie to the point where I would have to be two or three meters behind Radu just so that I could tell him where to step and what rocks to hold.


We were slow, very very slow. The route was very snowed in, which meant that we couldn't find almost any pitons or anchors or anything. This meant that we were more or less climbing without any safety points. Were Marius to fall, I don't know if our belay station would hold so he had good chances of pulling us off with him. It also meant that by midday when the snow would melt rocks would be tumbling down. But about that later. Just before we got on the ridge (Marius ahead, followed by Radu and then by me), Marius stepped up and entered the ridge, then Radu stepped up too. Only that, instead of stepping exactly where he saw Marius step, he stepped on a BIG flake that was not so solid. The flake dropped away to the right, he slipped, I put my hands on his butt and pushed him back (thank god for spotting at bouldering), japanese woman behind screamed, Marius freaked. Marius would de-freak about 20 hours later.


And there we were. Very slow again, snail like. We had to put on our ice crampons four hours before the point where you normally put on your crampons. Marius wanted to turn back two times but I didn't. I did my best to stay fresh and smiling. Maybe that freaked him out more too.

We passed the Solvay emergency hut. This is where guides get their clients air-lifted when they can't go anymore. It costs 1000 Euro, by the way. I asked Radu if he wanted to stay behind and wait for us at the hut, while at the same time talking to marius (Marius was saying that he should stay behind). But he wouldn't so we continued. Because we were still wearing our crampons we had to do mixed snow-rock climbing, something for which i guess they weren't ready. I know I was.


Very few teams were passing us going down. Most of them said that it was very hard up there. The damn fog was surrounding us. What was creepier was the damn helicopter that was circling the mountain (you could hear it, it was very close but you couldn't see the bastard).

It was 12:30 by now and the french guide that was coming from the summit stopped next to us. He tried to speak in english just for our benefit, telling us it would be better to go down. He wouldn't leave until I assured him we were going down. I started to cry. Marius (who was leading on the slab) turned and asked me what should we do (he had already said once again that he wants to go back). I didn't answer at first, trying to contain the tears from my voice. As I was looking away I remembered all these memorial plaques that we had passed. I cleared my voice and said "FUCK IT, I WANT TO LIVE, LET'S GO!" This is our summit picture, you could say.


And at about 1, 1:30 pm begins our descent. We were again very slow because there were three of us. Radu was also maddeningly slow on the rappel. I know now that I will never go with rookies I don't know. When we couldn't find rappel points I would belay Marius on the descent, then Marius and I would belay Radu, then I would go back. It took us ages. The only thing I am proud about is that we didn't lose the way (I had remembered most of the rappel points that I saw when sunlight came). When we rappelled after the Solvay hut, I was holding the ropes to untie the knot when one stone the size of a fucking plate came down just where we were coming down. One minute before and I would be writing to you from heaven.




Night came. A small snow storm came. We had two survival foils (like the alluminium foil in which chocolate is wrapped), and there were three of us. We stopped on the ledge the size of a table. Marius set up a anchor point. We sat on our backpacks - Marius on his, then Radu and I on the one that Radu initially carried and then I took over (it was my backpack, woohoo). Marius and Radu stayed back to back and Radu held me. My ass is big so I had one buttock on a stone. It was cold. Very cold. Our feet and gloves were wet. Looking back I am surprised how much our bodies can take. In the mean time Vlad was waiting for us and probably going mad with fear and anguish. He tried to light his torch just so we could see where the hut were. Then he was afraid when he didn't see the lights anymore (we were under the foil) that we were gone.


When morning came we were surprised to see that we were exactly on track. And I mean exactly on track. The climbers that were now climbing a much clear Matterhorn were coming straight for us. Even the french guide from yesterday saw us and said hi. Another one said "nice pleasant evening outside?" I said a "yes" and a silent "fuck you". We rappelled the last few parts in a dream like state. I was very exhausted and very dizzy because I hadn't had anything to eat for about 14 hours.


In total, 29 hours and 27 rappels later, we were back in base camp. Vlad was relieved to see us alive. We were extremely glad to be alive. Vlad had bought a plate of rosti with eggs for us the day before. We ate it with our harnesses on (you can see Marius in the picture).




Thinking about Sebi, it makes my hair stand when I think about the fact that they went unroped over there. There are towers of stones and flakes (like in this picture) that are literally waiting for a good excuse to go down. I know that if it weren't for Marius I wouldn't be alive. This time I am proud though that I could hold up my end and at least secure the rear.




Three days later I was still glad to be alive and didn't think so much about the details. Afterwards, when looking back the complete sense of failure would just take the breath out of my lungs and I would be very determined to go back again. Now, after hearing about Sebi, maybe I will take it slowly. Move close to the alps and start slowly again. There are mountains over there that are much more worth it than the Matterhorn. But still...



The rest of the pictures are here.

The Matterhorn

Or 29 hrs and 27 rappels.

Been reluctant to talk about this considering the events of this past week. Anyhoo ...


Got out from the glacier and very fast back to Zermatt. Recovered for one day in which the weather was absolutely perfect and just fit to climb the Matterhorn. As it was, we were resting. Of course. I will remember that perfect thursday for as long as I live, I guess. This is because we started for Matterhorn on Friday. I had to be out of Zermatt by midday Tuesday or else I'd miss my plane again. Three people had died on the Matterhorn those two days but I didn't care. One took the wrong turn into oblivion and two others did not put on their crampons and slipped off the mountain.

After three hours of heavy carrying uphill from the cableway station, we got to the Horli Hut, at an altitude of 3260m. 1700m more or less of climbing left till the summit of Matterhorn. The weather was very good and we were very anxious to climb. Vlad was going to be our support team.

That is until evening came and the weather went bad. We had a very powerful drizzle that night.

Saturday I was lost in depression. I couldn't eat, cried for the entire morning. The vision of my empty bank account, the hours of training, the 9 years of obsessing about Matterhorn, and the total feeling of helplessness were killing me. Bah. That evening it snowed and rained heavily and intermittently. We spent it 4 people crammed in one tent, laughing and telling silly mountain stories in the guys' attempt to make me feel happier. When we went to bed that night I was reconciled with my luck, decided to wrap up everything and call it a day.

By some sick act of faith I had left my alarm clock on. So it rang at 2 am. I woke up and realized that outside there was no sound of rain. Stayed some more in my sleeping bag then finally decided to have a look. The night was wonderfully clear. The sky was full of stars. The Matterhorn was .... snowed, but you could see to the top of it!!! OMG!!! OMG OMG OMG! I slipped quietly back in my sleeping bag. Marius asked a grumpy "how is it". I told him. After maybe 5 minutes more he asked: "do we have enough water?" (to make tea). And so begins the nightmare.

I am perking up, I am!!

Things have been quite low for me these days, with Sebi's death and all. I look at the pictures of Matterhorn and still can't believe that it could kill someone I know and used to be very close to. It sends shivers down my spine, especially since I was seriously considering soloing it. Now I just don't know anymore.

Ran Army Half Marathon this Sunday. Had a time of 1hr 54 minutes (thought it was a bit better, around 1:50, but nvm). It was my first half marathon for this year, so I think it is still quite ok. Next year I want to be in the top three. Pretty ambitious, but then again I am pretty ambitious too!

This was my first race in which I seriously considered stopping and going back. I was around the third kilometer, doing sub 5 minutes per km, going up hill, so turning around and going back was not only appealing but possible (since I was so close to the starting point). I also started to think about Sebi, about how there's nothing left of him such that in order to identify him they have to take a DNA sample from his mom, about why they were not tied up, about what's the point of all of this if you end up unidentifiable and clearly fuck up those that you leave behind, about how tired I was all of a sudden. The only thing that kept me going was the thought that I had woken Marian up at 5 am in order to come with me to the race, and if I went back now, his lost sleep would have been for nothing. So I kept running and after the 5 km mark I was well again. I guess my first 5 km are indeed my worst.

This year Marian and I will run the marathon together. I am so proud of him that he decided to embark in such a quest, woo hoo!

Just found out that somebody I knew (and once considered a good friend, but we drifted apart) died on Matterhorn. They had attempted before 2 years back but had been airlifted. Just now only two of them climbed. They were unroped. Sebi (Sebastian Verga) apparently was overtaking somebody when he slipped or dislodged a rock or a flake the size of a closet and fell. They found him at the base of the Mountain mountain.

Later edit: unidentifiable. I wish I could say more, but words still refuse to form in my mind.

Climbs

So here we were, in the storm. And here was I, depressed as hell, even crying at some point. Try this: empty your bank account and leave a big fat ZERO dollars in it, hop on a plane to go to some remote destination to climb a mountain. Before that, train for it in Singapore, where there are no mountains. Get to your remote destination to climb the mountain of your choice, only to find that the weather is so fucked up that you can't even TRY to climb it.

The next day, though, to my utter happiness, the bad weather broke. Our tent was a bit covered in snow and people coming from Italy to the Margarita Hut did take it for a way point*, but life was good.



The Regina (quuen) Margarita hut is the highest building in all Europe. It stands at an altitude of 4554m, on top of the Signalkuppe summit. So we headed towards it with a cup of hot coffee in mind. The winds, they were horrific, as you can see in this picture. Marius was also walking very slowly for some reason.


We finally got to the hut where we enjoyed 4 Euros worth of instant coffee, and some tea and some vegetable soup, Radu's treat since the summit was his first over 4000m peak.

We also got our oxygen saturation level measured and blood pressure taken and lungs listened to by a doctor from Zurich. She was performing a study on AMS. My respiratory rate was 12 per minute, Radu's 20 per minute and Marius's 25 per minute. Marius beat the hell out of us with an oxygen saturation of 85% while we clocked a mere 78-79. The doctor asked me if I smoked. I said that I quit. Then she said that my lungs were extraordinary clear. I don't know if I should be happy or freaked out. I wonder if I have a big hole in my lung if it sounds the same as if they are clear. Should ask Nita.

From the window's hut we saw another summit. I went and asked the caretaker what was the name of the summit and, after giving me a funny look, he said it was Zummsteinspitze (4563m). We went and did that one too. It has a pretty amazing corniced snow ridge.



The next day Marius decided to take a rest to prepare for Lyskamm so Radu and I went to do Parrotspitze (4432m). It was standing right there in our backyard, so, why not? It would be my first time ever leading a ridge too.

Now the ridge wasn't hard at all, just that it was very narrow and the wind was very strong. Radu got a bit freaked and asked me not to take any more pictures, so I don't have that many pictures of the ridge drop.

However, while we were on the summit, one team gave up their intention to cross. Maybe they had forgotten something at the hut.



Next to Parrotspitze there was another summit, Ludwigshoe (4341m). Easy peasy, it was over in 20 minutes. Next to it there was yet another one (you can see it behind me), but I decided not to go, because we were going for Lyskamm the next day.



*This meant that a lot of people were coming towards our tent and thus Radu could not pee because of the crowds.