New Ground in Greenland to the Roof of the Arctic - Jim Gregson
By Jim Gregson
Maternal Eider ducks with their crèches of downy ducklings waddled unconcerned along and across the runway at Isafjørdur airport in north-west Iceland, for the most part oblivious to aircraft landing or taking off.
We were waiting for our onward charter flight by Twin Otter ski-plane, to take us across the Denmark Strait and into the Watkins Bjerge, Greenland's highest peaks, and home to Gunnbjørns Fleld, at 3693m the roof of the Arctic. While the hours ticked round we also spent some time watching quite a variety of other bird-life in the vicinity of the airport terminal. On a series of pools and lagoons Just off the tarmac we saw a pair of nesting red-throated divers, redshanks, a number of red-necked phalaropes and a whole colony of Arctic terns, garrulous yet graceful.
By the curious logic of private charters into the Arctic, our turn to fly came just after midnight when the five of us boarded the small 'plane and took off into the non-setting sun, this being the middle of June. After only thirty minutes of flying out over the ocean we crossed the edge of the pack-ice, stretching out a long, long way from the Greenland coast and not yet starting to break up for the summer. In time the darker shapes of the mountains climbed over the horizon and then we were among them, threading a way towards the big glacier on which we were to land.
The pilot turned the machine between striking white peaks and we slanted down to a smooth touchdown on the even surface at three o'clock in the morning, with the sun shining brightly. We stepped out into fairly deep snow then quickly pulled all our gear and rucksacks from the 'plane to allow the crew to get away home to Iceland. Once the little aircraft was gone, blasting us with blown snow, the cold silence gripped the scene and we hurried to get our tents pitched and the kettle on.
Later in the morning the sun's strength made it feel too warm to stay in sleeping bags and we emerged to try to orientate ourselves. There were very good-looking peaks not so far away as well as some of the bigger mountains which number among the highest in Greenland. After we had sorted through our kit we agreed that we would try to get up some of the virgin peaks - amongst the more elegant ones we could see - as well as attempting some of the higher ones. Gordon, at 64 our oldest team member, was keen to find some tops suitable for ski ascents, protesting his non-technical climber status. In fact he coped splendidly with everything we tried and surpassed his own expectations.
We opened our account the next day by skiing to the head of the Woolley Glacier to get to the north ridge of Forefinger, 3367m, the so far unclimbed 10th highest peak in Greenland. Mist and light snow swirled around us as we kicked steps up the ridge, straining to see how close to the corniced edge we were. At the top we waited for a while, hoping for a clearance which never came. We descended the ridge then skied quickly back to camp, happy with our first ascent.
The following day we decided to try to get onto a nighttime schedule for climbing to benefit from firmer surfaces and set out northwards to some more untouched peaks. Again we were overtaken by mist and poor visibility as we gained height on a narrow arête. A couple of rock steps had to be negotiated, with loose material needing careful handling, before we reached the twin tops of Terra Nova Peak, 3020m.
The mist receded and we emerged into sunshine, reminding ourselves that it came from low down on the horizon to our north as this was the middle of the night. We were intent on traversing our peak and going on to its neighbour but the ground fell away very steeply down a convex slope which we could not see. Scott offered to go down on a rope to investigate, so I stamped out a big bucket seat from which to anchor him. He was soon back to say that two rope-lengths would get us back onto a narrow linking arête, so I stayed in my icily upholstered seat to safeguard everyone down. Scott redescended to set a double deadman anchor, then the others followed and eventually I could lever myself out of my stance and go on down to the exposed perch where the others had stopped. Without delay we regained the narrow arête and set off in a fine position to go up to the top of Flash Point, 2960m, another unclimbed peak until now, from which another ridge allowed us to go down to complete our horseshoe outing.
Now we thought we might go a little higher so we tried to make a ski ascent of Julia, 3455m, Greenland's 7th highest top. This went well at first, as we skinned up the mountain's eastern flanks, until we got as high as 3200m. Unluckily for us, the weather now intervened as the sky clouded up and strong winds began to gust and blast us with spindrift. As this became more uncomfortable we decided to abandon our climb and turned downhill. Getting off was made difficult by the fierce wind and we were glad to get back to the shelter of camp, as this change proved to be the start of three days of on and off storm, keeping us tent bound apart from excursions outside every so often to dig off the drifts. Our other exercise in this bad spell was to indulge in whisky-tastings.
When the weather started to behave itself again we were wary about avalanche conditions, so decided to try to make a ski ascent on the more gently angled slopes of the 3609m peak of Paul-Emile Victor, the 4th highest on the island. This gave us along day as even on skis we were sinking into the copious fresh snow, but we gradually won out onto the summit plateau on a fine sunny morning. Around us stretched countless peaks, mostly untouched, including the nearby high tops of the Watkins Mountains and the summit block of Gunnbjørns Fjeld thrusting up through a layer of inversion cloud.
We had an interesting ski run back down, snow conditions varying as we went from sun to shade at different slope angles, but it was good to be in action again after the storm days. Before our move towards Gunnbjørns Fjeld we were strongly drawn by a very elegant arête on another virgin peak just north of camp. Skiing to its foot was a simple matter and we were soon making a very direct ascent on the sharp crest. As we were out in the night we called this mountain Midnight Peak once we had reached its top at 3249m. Despite the night sunlight it was very cold and not wishing to linger, Scott, Jon and Gordon soon left to reverse the ascent route. Sandy and I opted to try to complete a traverse so we headed down the northeast ridge, dropping steeply into a small col. Just before the col we crossed the crestline onto easier ground, but found ourselves in very deep and very cold powder snow dumped by the storm winds and not yet consolidated. The effort of wading through this stuff re-warmed us, but also gave us some anxieties about crevasses we may have unknowingly crossed. Still, no mishap befell us and we regained our skis not long after our friends had completed their descent.
Once we decided to move camp, everything had to be packed into rucksacks, or loaded onto pulks for hauling. We tried to lighten our loads by more whisky drinking, and firing a few target-practice rounds from our polar bear deterrent rifle, but this did not significantly reduce the weight to be shifted! Fortunately our move took us down the very easy gradient of the wide Woolley Glacier and then back up a tributary ice stream to make a new camp by the Gunnbjørns Fjeld massif; a 10 hour journey to cover 25 kilometres after which we awarded ourselves a rest day, with a couple of hours of telemarking practice on a nearby slope to earn our dinners.
Gunnbjørns Fjeld is a fine mountain to look at, and can be approached on skis to a height over 3300m, leaving a short final climb to be completed on foot. We left our camp in the cool of an evening and worked our way up towards its southwest ridge. After leaving our skis we cramponned up a narrow crest to a steeper section by some rockbands, then easier ground to the summit which we reached at about four o'clock in the morning. We were blessed with calm air and sunshine, enjoying an unhurried hour at the top as we photographed and looked at the seemingly endless array of mountains at all points of the compass - scope for expeditions for a long time yet.
When we had regained our skis we set off down on what was a delightful 10 kilometres of rapid ski running over very firm surfaces, putting in hundreds of turns as we lost height, finally sliding back into camp after a 13 hour round trip, well satisfied but hungry.
In the final days of the expedition we went to try to climb the 2nd and 3rd highest summits of Dome and Cone. On Dome we skied to a high level then climbed along its northeastern ridge until at about 3600m we were stopped by what we judged to be dangerously unstable windslab which we declined to risk. We also turned back from Cone and contented ourselves with another very long ski descent.
Our last day we spent in leisurely packing, pausing to watch numerous avalanches from peaks around the camp triggered by the heat from very powerful sunshine. We also studied many potential lines of ascent in case we are ever fortunate enough to go back to this wonderful area. The next day we heard the engine drone from our ski plane for a few minutes before it flashed into view and slipped down onto the ice by the tents. In short order we had everything on board and the pilot powered up for an unbelievably short take-off before winging over the mountain tops and heading out towards the sea and Iceland, as we pressed our faces close to the windows hoping that we can make a return visit.
The Tangent Watkins Bjerge- Gunnbjørns Fjeld Expedition members were: Scott Umpleby, Dr Jon Dallimore, Gordon Downs, Sandy Gregson and Jim Gregson. We were in Greenland from June 16 to July 3 1999.
In the next issue: HALLINGSKARVET, Skiing Wild Norway
