Page 13 - 2009 AMA Winter

whole of my body; my neck resembled a swollen, angry red grapefruit. The con- cern was obvious in the haste of the doc- tors and nurses.
In Fairy Meadows, the anticipation builds along with the weather and the following morning we are forced to spend the morn- ing drinking tea and eating fresh hot pan- cakes under the huge overhanging boulder that serves as our base camp and shelter from the rain. It is times like these that allow you a yardstick with which to measure the remainder of your life and is perhaps why this type of climbing is so addictive. Life here is distilled down to its essentials: food, shelter, rest and good company. We talk, eat well and laugh a lot.
Baz came in and joked that it was safer to solo than to climb with me! This was the second time this trip that I had nearly died, perhaps he had a point.
“BELOW!” It is always a sickening sound, accompanied by the empty feeling in your stomach as you try to determine whether it is a pebble, rock or rope and whether it is heading for you or not. This time there was no doubt; I was trapped in a chimney with nowhere to go and the sky above was black with falling rock, heading straight for me.
In the afternoon, Andy and I take advan- tage of a break in the weather and strike out again for the wall. Past experience and
objectives missed tell me that we must push a little.
There are some ropes in place at the base but they are frayed from a winter swinging and rubbing in the wind. The anchors too are shocking, a collection of frayed and cut prussic cord, tape and unequalised pegs. We replaced one pitch yesterday and do the same today.
Jugging up a rope using Jumars, trailing a rope and placing gear in anticipation of it snapping is both physically and emotional- ly demanding, but it does mean that the
team will have safe ropes in place to expe- dite our return when the weather improves.
No pain, just a world of stars and blue/red haze as I sluggishly regained conscious- ness. I had just enough time to push myself into the wall at the back before the first rock struck. The size of a breezeblock (I removed it later!) had smashed into the centre of the helmet that had saved my life. More followed, tearing the rucksack I was wearing and then continued hundreds of metres down below, sending Jon diving for cover and forcing Will to tuck into the wall and hope for the best as the barrage
Will jugging Pitch 3 - note the friction point on the rope
The weather is fine the day we arrive and we push out early to fix ropes on the base