The Monk, the Young Lady and the Ogre

Bad weather has hit, the mountain hut on the Mittellegi ridge of the Eiger is now closed until next summer, therefore requiring a night out in the open if the summit is to be attempted. An attempt would be near suicidal in deteriorating conditions, rock climbing with a foot of powder snow coating the ridge. Yet still, I took my place in a different mountain hut in preparation for an attempt on the Jungfrau.

The wind and snow blasted the hut windows all night, I cowered under my blanket hoping the storm would abate - it didn't. We left the hut at 5.30am for the ascent, men being men trying to stay macho until the obvious was realised. The snow was driving in horizontally direct into our faces, stinging our eyes in the darkness, our head torches lighting the ground ahead of us like a "Christmas Santa snow storm globe".

The Glacier

We ventured out into the glacier, fumbling into the storm, the wind gusted to 80 kmph and the temperature was -6 degrees. We needed to cross about a km of crevassed glacier to our chosen ridge, but with about a foot of fresh snow covering the crevasses the going was slow, we kept a tight rope between us, but every moment expecting our feet to disappear into an abyss. Visibility was only 20-30 yards as dawn broke with dim light. We had covered a mere 800m in an hour, our gore-tex covered in a thin icy film.

Failure on the Jungfrau
It was obvious we would not attain the summit, the rock-climbing with powder snow would be too dangerous, not to mention the avalanche prone slopes up high - we must turn back, but we had maintained our masculine pride with a heroic / pointless foray into the glacier. Men! We retraced our footsteps across the glacier for 100m until they disappeared, the wind and snow so bad that the footsteps had filled-in within 15 minutes. We cautiously groped our way back to the Jungfraujoch underground railway and the serene heated café and bar. It was very surreal to return to the safety of the labyrinth of passageways - we were sitting down on a cushioned seat with a coffee looking out of the double glazed windows into a white-out, surrounded by a 100 Japanese tourists wearing t-shirts and trainers, yet just 30 minutes earlier we were fighting in a fierce storm, "lost" in white space with little definition in any direction.

Failure on the Eiger
This is my second "failure" with the Eiger, yet neither time have I set foot within a mile of the mountain. It is deeply disappointing, you raise your hopes and arrive with eager anticipation, yet your dreams are crushed with not even an ounce of energy being spent. However, I am still alive.

I remain philosophical. May be I'm not meant to climb the Eiger - is the mountain telling me something? Is this the "balance" in life for my Everest summit?

The Eiger is just rock and ice. Yet it seems to possess a personality, all mountains do. I must remind myself it is not a person or a creature, it does not hold a grudge against me. Yet although illogical, I still believe some higher source is rebuffing my approach - or am I looking too deep? Is it simply the case that the weather just happened to be poor the week I was there? Probably - the world is not against me ;o)

Richard.