It could have been true... - Duncan Lee
By Duncan Lee
We had been looking at the gully for over a week, ever since we had arrived in the valley in fact. Mind you, you could not fail to notice it, it was in your face every time you drove up or down the valley. Pitch after pitch of glistening thick blue ice cascading down the hillside to the road itself. It just begged to be climbed but as always in life nothing is perfect, there is always a catch and in the case of this route it was the top pitch, a free standing cigare of ice that looked to be at least 20 metres long. Gulp! The burning question was whether or not it touched down but no matter what angle we viewed the beast from, we could not tell.
As the week wore on, my partner, a man with a thousand yard stare, became convinced that the icicle touched down despite the lack of a clear view. The more his conviction grew so did his interest in doing the route. As his enthusiasm increased so did my powers of imagination as I began to think that a vague ramp to the right of the ice pillar could possibly provide a means of avoiding the free standing gravitationally challenged horror. Even if I was correct and the "escape" existed the crazy eyed one considered it to be unsporting if the cigare was stable. Whilst all these deliberations continued we honed our skills with our axes to the point when the day of destiny was nigh.
Strangely on the day of destiny there were no dark brooding clouds, in fact it was a perfectly crystal clear cold Alpine day. Ideal for such a venture with the ice being in perfect condition. The axes thunked in, the screws bit good and deep and all was well in the world. So what was I worried about? Even the pitches were falling nicely for me seeing as the mad one had so far led the hardest section of the climb, 15 metres of 90 degree pure water ice that landed us in a shallow amphitheatre from which we gained our first unobstructed view of the huge icicle and it appeared to touch down: just! Two short but entertaining pitches quickly established us at its base for a closer inspection and it was my lead. The examination left me totally unconvinced that the beast was stable. It was incredibly thin and delicate at its base but the clinching factor for me was the fact that the escape route did exist, even if it did look steeper and thinner than I wanted. Either way it looked a better option to me than the Damoclean sword, but could I deprive the crazy eyed one of adrenaline fuelled mind game of playing on the cigare? You bet I could. The line of least resistance and all that.
Thus under his sorrowful and scornful gaze I set forth on the ramp teetering up a steep thin slither of brittle ice that was thick enough to obscure any possible protection in the rock but too thin to take an ice screw. After a lot of effort and with my calves burning I finally managed to hammer a dodgy bulldog into an ice choked crack. Psychological gear perhaps but it gave me enough confidence to continue gibbering upwards. As soon as the gear was below my feet however confidence began to drain away and I could feel myself starting to shake. Soon the gear on my harness was being to chatter. Christ I must be gripped! Bizarrely I did not feel that scared but the gear was still rattling away at a higher frequency than normal but then again everything appeared to be vibrating. Then it stopped.
"**ck did you feel that" yelled the man with the far away eyes.
"What?"
"That" he replied as suddenly the gear began to chatter once more.
A loud crack then boomed across the gully followed by a low menacing groan as the Damoclean sword parted company with the mountainside and plummeted towards the road below miraculously missing my partner by the proverbial width of a cigarette paper. As the debris continued to rain down the gully adrenaline kicked in and I sprinted towards the sanctuary of a large pine tree upon which to belay. My second then set a speed record for a 30 metre pitch that left us both trying to take stock of what had just happened. We still had no idea but the evening news provided the answer.
...but thankfully the earth tremor and the subsequent collapse of the cigare occurred whilst we were safely tucked up in our beds!!
