Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Kiwi/Irish Mountain Biking Expedition Lhasa to Kathmandu 2006


Tibet is on the roof of the world, a high, cold land of brown arid mountains and ice peaks where the wind screams like a thousand dragons and hurls dust into the sky. It is a land of buddist lamaseries and the devout spinning prayer wheels on the koras or lying prostrate in the dust murmuring “ O Mane Padme Hum”, a land of giant lammergeiers wheeling in the thermals, a land of frigid high passes adorned by rosettes of prayer flags.

Enter the twelve members of the Kiwi/Irish Mountain Biking Expedition in April 2006. The plan was to bike from Lhasa to Kathmandu with a side trip to Kharta, a small remote hamlet on the east side of Qomolangma or Mt Everest. From there we planned to cross the Langma La Pass, a 5300 metre pass to the sanctuary of the Kama valley under the Kangchung Face of Qomolangma.

The idea of this trip was born on a wet summer’s day in Dunedin in January 2005 when a party of Irish cyclists biking down the length of New Zealand was met by Dr Stanley. Stan suggested the trip that was received enthusiastically by Ercus and Vinnie. Little did they realise the hardship involved. During 2005 Stan initiated detailed planning of the trip and gathered a group of 8 Kiwis and 3 Irish plus himself a hybrid of both countries. The members were Ercus Stewart, Vincent Crowley and Liz McKenna from Dublin, Ross and Heidi Sinclair, Glen Knols, Simon Marwick, Sue Lake, Joe Sherriff, Jo Wilson and Belinda and Stan Mulvany from New Zealand.

In early April the team met for the first time in Kathmandu amidst a political crisis with a curfew in place and the country bordering on civil war. Two days later they flew from Kathmandu to Gongkar. With them was Govindra Sapkota, their Nepali sirdar. By road a team of three Sherpas had travelled overland to meet them in Kathmandu. On the morning they left there was a curfew due to start at 10 AM so it was a rush to the airport before it commenced. There was heavy security at the airport with numerous check points and heavily armed troopers. Our group was 52 kg overweight and Govindra advised me we would have to pay $3.00 a kilogram or put $90.00 under the counter! Once we were out on the tarmac we had to identify and pull our baggage into a loading heap before we boarded our Air China flight.

The flight was fine and we flew close to Mt Everest that unfortunately was on the other side of the aircraft. Once we crossed the frontier we could see dry brown mountain ranges with the occasional snow peak amid wide river valleys. We landed at Gongkar airport that is 95 kilometres south of Lhasa. We met Sonam, our Tibetan guide for the trip. He proved to be an invaluable asset on our trip. It took a long time to clear the Chinese bureaucracy. Outside we were ‘ambushed’ by a group of nasty Han Chinese who rushed in and grabbed our baggage and heaved it onto a truck and then demanded money. Vinnie gave one of them a few dollars. The others promptly set upon the unlucky recipient of this.

Lhasa was modern, large and clean and it was still a startling sight to see the Potala dominating the city. We stayed at the Dhood Gu hotel in the Tibetan quarter on the east side of town. The hotel too was a work of art with Tibetan architecture and paintings on the walls and ceilings. From our bedroom window was a fantastic view across to the Potala. Our hotel was only a few minutes from the Jokhang, the most holy of Tibetan temples. We had our mountain bikes with us and the first task was to reassemble them and check for damage in transit.

Lhasa is quite high at 3600 metres and several of us were suffering from mild acute mountain sickness. Glen had headaches and vomiting. Ross had gastroenteritis and to add to his woes was pick-pocketed outside the hotel. We all noticed breathlessness and tachycardia on walking up the four flights of stairs to our rooms. Insomnia was also a common affliction that affected most of us to a greater or lesser degree.

On Sunday 9th of April we drove to Drepung Monastery eight kilometres to the west of central Lhasa. This colourful monastery is situated on the side of a mountain with numerous buildings and temples containing buddist painting and sculptures.



We visited numerous chapels containing effigies of the Dalai Lhama. There were many lamas dressed in red gowns reading their scriptures or wandering around. In the afternoon Belinda and I walked into central Lhasa and bought some food at a Chinese supermarket. In the evening we all went to the Snowlands Restaurant for a meal. Belinda came down with a bout of gastroenteritis that evening.

On Monday I got up early and climbed up on the roof where there was a great view of Lhasa in a valley surrounded by hills and dominated by the Potala spotlighted by the rising sun. After breakfast we got our bikes down and set off for Sera Monastery. Belinda and Ross, still unwell, took the bus. We set off in a group wearing green bike tops kindly brought out by Liz from Ireland. Biking in Chinese cities is a combative experience and although there were no major accidents Simon did manage to” collect” a few locals. After Drepung, Sera was not as interesting though there was one chapel with an amazing array of statues of the various Dalai Lamas. The monks collect money for taking photos but it still felt like a privilege to be there.

In the afternoon Belinda and I went for a walk to the Potala and paid two Yuan to climb up some steps onto a small hill to take photos of it. Then we did a circumambulation of Potala Kora down a narrow alley lined on one side by numerous prayer wheels. On the other side was a large Chinese market selling a huge variety of vegetables, grains, meat, live fish in vats, pig heads, ox tongues, you name it. Belinda was most excited by all this and spent ages photographing it. In the evening we went out in a group to the New Mandala Restaurant for a meal.

Tuesday morning Liz, Sue, Belinda, Ercus and I joined a throng of people doing a circumambulation of the Jokhang Kora. This is a unique experience especially seeing the devout prostrate on the flagstones of Barkhor Square in front of the Jokhang temple complex. There was juniper being burned in incense burners, butter lamps in dim buildings and a murmur of people in the cold thin air.

We had breakfast at the Dhood Gu and then our bus arrived but no truck for the bikes. We eventually managed to load the bikes minus their front wheels.We were sorting this out when Liz asked “ Do we take our wheels with us” which sent everyone into peals of laughter.

We then set off for Ganden Monastery forty kilometres NE of Lhasa. This lamasery is at the top of a mountain ridge at 4200 metres and has great views all around it. However it was very cold and windy. We toured some of the halls and one we entered had over a hundred lamas reciting their scriptures. Personally I did not feel very comfortable there as it felt like an intrusion but the monks did not seem to mind. We then walked the Kora or walkway outside the walls that must be done clockwise. This is a sort of pilgrimage to Tibetans. Then it was on the bikes for a fast descent of the gravel road down into the valley where we met the bus. We had a late lunch and then five of us took the bus back to Lhasa and the rest biked back.

On Wednesday we decided to bike to bike to Drepung Monastery about ten kilometres away. This was easy till we hit the uphill sections and then we felt the altitude. Sonam did give us tickets but these were out of date and we negotiated a deal to enter. We walked the Kora and the biked back to our hotel. In the afternoon Sonam took us on a tour of the Potala. There was a bit of a rush as the Potala was just about to close. There is a long winding road that climbs up the hill to the fortress and inside it is quite dark and full of chapels and rooms full of statues of the various Dalai Lamas. That night we celebrated Ross’s 60th birthday at the Dhood Gu. The staff had a special birthday cake with a sort of flaming flower on top. It was the most extraordinary birthday party I’ve ever attended!

On Thursday we finally started our bike ride from Lhasa to Kathmandu. We were up early getting our baggage down to the truck which was late in arriving. Then we set off in a group wearing our bright green cycle tops to the Potala where we stopped for a group photo.



After this we headed out of town and took the road to Yangpachen by mistake. We must have gone about 10 kilometre along this before we realised we were on the wrong road. The landcruiser and truck were nowhere to be seen. Once on the correct route it was a straight run to Chusal into an increasing headwind. This built up to a veritable dust storm howling up the Tsangpo Valley which we were following. We regrouped and crossed a bridge at Dogar being almost blown off the bridge in the process. Then it was another eleven kilometre on to Gampa, our first camp. I felt really jaded and when drafting along had a high speed crash. I only lost a bit of skin but it woke me up in a hurry. It was a relief to see the camp below the Khamba La, 1100 metres above us. That day we covered over 100 kilometres at an altitude of over 5030 metres.

On Friday Belinda and I left camp at 6.45 AM intent on beating the wind. We were first away and the morning was still and cold. We made steady progress and soon enough Ross and Heidi caught us up. The road was sealed and had an easy gradient which would have been nice at sea level but at 4000 metres was hard work. Later the others passed us. Belinda and Heidi also carried on and Ross and I struggled on. Vinnie and Liz took up the rear. It took us five hours to reach the windswept Khamba La.



On top were a group of Tibetans with yaks who had been ripping off the others for money for photos. The views of the Yamdrok Tso, a large lake on the other side were spectacular. This large lake winds and twists around the mountains so only a small part of it is visible at any one point. We biked down and stopped at a house on a hill above the lake where several of our members were stopped. After a while we carried on flying around the corners down to the lake shore where the rest had stopped for lunch. By now there was a bitter wind blowing up the lake. The landcruiser and truck were there and Govindra and the Sherpas served us a lovely lunch which revived us. Usually this consisted of hot sweat tea followed by curried potatoes, coleslaw, tinned tuna and a mango drink.

There was a bitterly cold wind blowing up the lake so Belinda and I took a ride in the landcruiser while the others biked on. We got off at the causeway at Yasik and biked another 10 kilometres to our camp before Nakartse. Our tally for the day being 90 kms.



On Saturday Belinda and I were first up, had breakfast quickly and were away by 7.00 AM. The main reason for this was to beat the afternoon winds and to cover the enormous distances we were doing. When we reached the dirt road a tractor came along and B hitched a ride by holding onto the rear of it. She disappeared into Nakartse while I peddled along as fast as I could. Nakartse was a small dusty one road town with a lot of school kids on the road. Beyond it the plain narrowed into a valley ahead with brown arid mountains on either side. It was cold and breathtakingly clear. I caught up with Belinda and put on my wind proof pants as the wind had come up. Ross and Heidi caught us up. Then Glen and Sue arrived and we drafted along as it was much easier to do so in headwinds. The dirt road carried on into a narrow defile in the mountains which grew taller with ice peaks high up on them. The others stopped by a wall near the road to await the truck and I carried on. The JoJoes, Simon and Ercus had passed us earlier and were way out in front climbing to the Karo La Pass at over 5000 metres. The road now swung to the right and the stream on the left was frozen. We passed some German bikers who were camped and who were biking unsupported which is a hard way to do it. We never saw them again! The truck arrived with the others and I climbed aboard.



One of our members was behind and had turned down a lift. Govinda was concerned as he was so far behind and there was such a big journey in front of us so I waited for him to arrive. There ensued a somewhat heated discussion. We had to leave him as he still refused to take a ride up the pass. We drove on passing the lead party not far from the pass.

The Karo La is at 5000 metres and had a few houses, a collection of Tibetans selling jewellery and heap of prayer flags. It was windy and freezing cold and a huge glacier flowed off the peaks. Govindra and Sonam were quite concerned about our missing team member and so we decided to leave the truck at the pass till he arrived and the rest of us would cycle on. We got our bikes off the truck and set off flying downhill into a headwind heading for Gyantse. The road dropped gradually crossing a wide plain. Behind us were the ice peaks and in front the road disappeared into a small valley among the brown arid mountains. After maybe 20 kilometres we reached a stone corral where we stopped for lunch. The pattern now was for the landcrusier to stop for lunch and have everything ready by the time we arrived.

After lunch Belinda and Heidi climbed aboard and the rest of us biked into a narrow descending valley. The Jojoes and the other were way ahead which was the usual order of things. Ross and I took up the rear. The road was quite rough and after about 15 kilometres I cadged a ride on the Landcruiser as I’d had enough crashing around on dirt roads. Ross took off and later passed the advance party and was the first into Gyantse, a remarkable effort. The road now reached a dammed river and wound around this following the contours of a canyon for ages. It was another 50 kilometres to Gyantse which we reached at 4.30 PM. We did well over 100 kilometres that day. Later the truck arrived with more of our members. Only a few had managed to cycle the whole distance_ a massive effort.



That day we had a debriefing as I felt things had not gone well on several fronts. The team effort was lacking and the support vehicles needed re-organising. We had a heated discussion and it cleared the air and afterwards I felt everyone had a better appreciation of the difficulties and expectations of the group. For the rest of the trip things did go much better. I slept poorly that night.

On 16th Belinda and I were up early and wandered down the street to the restaurant where we had dinner the previous evening. It was still dark and the place closed but as we were going back to the hotel Sonam met us and said it would be open soon. We had breakfast and then B and I were off. We crossed the bridge across the Nyang Chu where we stopped for a photo of the Gyantse Dzong on a hill above the town and then carried on along the flat sealed road on our way to Shigatse. It was a lovely clear day with no wind and mild temperatures. The valley was very fertile with extensive agriculture and many farms. We were out in front and flew along and reached Panam mid-morning. We stopped for lunch about 10 kilometres past Panam and waited about an hour for the others to arrive. As usual the Jojoes were first away after lunch. Ross, Heidi, Vinnie, Simon, B and I formed a road train as the wind had come up. We kept up a steady pace till we reached Shigatse early afternoon, a distance of about 100 kilometres. This was the first easy bike ride since we left Lhasa. That evening we had dinner at a Nepali restaurant beside the Tashihunpo Monastery. This monastery is huge and was founded by the first Dalai Lama in 1447. It is the seat of the Panchen Lamas.

On Monday 17th we returned to the Sontang Restaurant for breakfast. Breakfast was unusual especially the “corn flakes” which were like bullets and gave us aching jaws! My advice do not ask for “corn flakes” in Tibet. I was not feeling 100% thought I ate a big breakfast. Then we all set off bar Ercus and Vinnie who had biked out to the cheese factory 40 kilometres the previous day, to walk the Tashihunpo Kora. The monastery certainly looked impressive from the kora but we had seen enough monasteries when in Lhasa. High above us a great flock of lammergeiers were wheeling in the sky. These are huge birds of prey like a vulture and I guessed there was a sky burial on the mountain behind the monastery. In the distance we could see the Shigate Dzong or rather what remained of it after the PLA shelled it in the 1959 uprising. Later in the morning we returned to the hotel and then went out shopping and to find an internet outlet. We then went to a supermarket and were having lunch outside with glen when two children happened past and made a dive at Glens lunch. Glen ended up shoving him off with his leg and after this episode we joked about him kicking the local children. That night we decided to drop a day off our trek at Kharta as we had to revise our itinerary. Glen and I were walking back to the hotel when some young Chinese women offered us a massage. “You will look more beautiful” they advised Glen.

We had breakfast at the Shigatse Hotel next day so we could get away early. This was an elaborate affair with an odd assortment of food more like a banquet. Nevertheless it was quite filling. We got our baggage ready for the truck and then set off in a group led by the jeep across the bridge to the north bank of the Tsangpo River. Them we turned left and set off up the Tsangpo Valley. This was good going and mostly flat. On and on it went until later in the day we left the river and turned north. I biked mostly on my own. The wind came up and was blowing from the side. We travelled about 80 kilometres on the seal and then branched off onto a dirt road on the left for about 15 kilometres which took us to a small village where we camped. The weather looked threatening and then it snowed. The truck was there and they had the tents up and there was a crowd of curious Tibetan women and children. It was bitterly cold and it snowed. We did 95 kilometre that day.

I was up early next day beating the sherpas with their wakeup round of hot sweat tea. We had breakfast in the dining tent of porridge followed by chapattis and fried eggs. B and I were on the road by 7.30 AM before the others. It was cold with fresh snow on the hills and a lovely alpenglow on the mountain tops with the rising sun. The road was stony and corrugated and slow going. We continued up valley and the road swung around a hill to the right to rejoin the Tsangpo. This we followed a long way past Tibetan villages for many kilometres. We passed a desiccated donkey stuck on a road marker, an odd sight indeed. Belinda photographed this macabre sight. On we plod grinding up steep inclines till we reached a bridge over the Tsangpo. There was a red walled monastery on a hill above it and further along an enormous sand dune beside the road, maybe a thousand feet high. It was a grey, cold day with endless roads meandering off across a desolate landscape reminiscent of the wastes of Mordor in ‘Lord of the Rings’. We eventually stopped for lunch and then several of us took a lift on the landcruiser for maybe 14 kilometres before biking again. Some of the villages we biked through had bands of children who ambushed us begging money. It was very irritating and we rode through quickly without stopping. The valley eventually widened out into a small plain at the junction of several valleys where the wind was stronger and blowing from the right. It was dusty and the weather rapidly deteriorated and it started to snow. I was tired and irritable and contemplated staying in a town we passed through as I had no idea where the camp was and thought we had been abandoned as the vehicles were nowhere in sight. And then wonder of wonders I spotted the landcruiser in the town having a tire repaired and Sonam told me camp was not far off.

So we headed on in dirty weather on an appalling road where we had to walk pushing the bikes along. I stopped and put on all my shell clothing and we struggled on, Ross, Belinda and I to our camp another 6-10 kilometres further on in a valley below the Gyatso La pass. I felt knackered by the effort.

Thursday saw the JoJoes and Simon off at 7.00 AM to bike over the Gyatso La while the rest of us decided to take the vehicles up to the top of the pass. We set off at about 9.30 AM with a fully laden landcruiser and truck. I was in the landcruiser and it really struggled over the pass past numerous road works. We passed the advance party maybe an hour from the top. The pass itself was just a high point on the ridge above adorned by the usual array of prayer flags amid the snow. It was bitterly cold. We piled out of the vehicles and got our bikes down.



I put on my down jacker and then my windproof shell over that plus my wind Foil gloves and balaclava under my old bike helmet. Then I hopped on my bike and took off. The track dropped off slowly down the far side and after 18 kilometres it was appreciably warmer. I stopped for B who eventually turned up with Sue. Sue had a tire blow-out which needed repairing. We carried on down valley till we stopped at a bridge for lunch. Then we carried on and rounded a hillside for our first view of the Himalayas still a long way away to the south. There were some lovely downhill sections and then a slow plod along the valley to New Tingri where camp had been set up. They had picked a dusty terrace between the river and the town. We had travelled 63 kilometres from the pass to the camp.

That evening the guides told me there was a problem with the drivers who would not take us in the vehicles down to Kharta. They wanted us to do a relay instead but I said no that was impractical given the distances and state of the roads. I then instructed Sonam to sack the driver of the landcruiser and to request another driver and landcruiser from Lhasa to take his place and in addition to get another landcruiser so we could fit everyone in for the long drive south. Having issued these orders I retired to bed and slept soundly though others told me there was a fierce argument that night from the staff camp between the driver and our guides who did not like the idea of being fired. Too bad!!

The plan on Friday was to bike to Old Tingri but Sonam came to see me early with an alternative plan. He suggested instead to hire a truck locally to take all the bikes and some of the camping gear to Old Tingri and we all drive in the landcruiser and truck to Kharta. The drivers had a change of heart. I agreed to this though I had some reservations whether the landcruiser would make it. A blue Dong Feng truck turned up and we stacked all the bikes plus lots of our camping gear in it. The 8 of us piled into the landcruiser and the rest into the truck and we took off south. We went up a switchback gravel road which climbed over a 5200 metre pass called the Pang la. From the top there was a great view of the Himalayan chain including Cho Oyu, Pumori but Everest was hidden in cloud. We could see some of the West Ridge of Makalu. Then we dropped down to a deep valley over a thousand metres below. We had lunch on the flat valley floor and then continued to the east past huge brown arid mountains into a canyon of a tributary of the Arun River. In the afternoon we camped on a grassy flat near a Tibetan Village beside the river. The locals appeared to be very poor riding horses and carts.

This was a pleasant campsite on a grassy flat beside a river. Next morning B and I set off walking at 8.30 AM along the road east past Tibetan villages still asleep. The only signs of life were donkeys and chooks. It was a pleasant morning thought the air was cold. There were ploughed fields beside the river and curious mounds in them probably seed potatoes or something similar. An hour or so later the landcruiser arrived and picked us up. We drove along the road east for several hours before swinging around a bend in the valley to head south. The road was in places built into the sides of cliffs only a vehicle width over impressive gorges. Then we crossed several huge terraces covered in sparse vegetation. It had the appearance of a desert and probably due to overgrazing, deforestation and the dry climate. Later in the morning we arrived in Kharta which did indeed look like the last outpost. In fact it was quite a substantial place with a modern Chinese compound. We set up our camp in an abandoned police compound. The buildings were wreacked and smelt of stale urine. The dusty courtyard was littered with broken glass but the wall kept out the cold wind. Sonam, Joe and I went off to sort out the trekking part of our trip. The plan now was to spend just 3 days on the trek instead of the 5 originally planned and to go up the Kharta Chu and camp and try for the Langma La in a day from there. I was stunned to hear the Tibetan guides take 10 days to cross the Langma La with yaks and return.

In the afternoon there was traditional Tibetan horse riding and we went off to have a look at it. There were many horsemen riding small mountain ponies decorated in colourful silk costumes with red lampshade hats.



After a while I wandered off by myself and climbed up a steep ridge above the town for a view. It was a 300 metre climb up a hillside covered in scrub. On the far side was a valley and higher scrubby hills but no sign of glaciated majestic mountains or even Everest which I had been hoping to see. Across the Arun Valley there were some attractive 6000 metre snow peaks and below the Arun disappeared into a forested gorge, the start of the tree line.

That night I had a wonderful restful sleep awakening refreshed. Often at altitude sleep is poor and interrupted by nocturnal periodic breathing which I seemed to have grown out of now. The day was lovely and clear. We packed up and waited and waited for ages for our yaks to arrive. Eventually at 11 AM they showed up. They were duly loaded and we set off walking up the road to the Kharta Chu. We walked for several hours on the road which concerned me as I had no idea where we were going and had thought we might be camping by the road when we could have easily had driven it. Eventually we reached a bridge and then we were climbing on a track on the true right of the Kharta Chu past several villages. Simon and I ended up driving some yaks which were hopeless track followers. We were constantly heading them off and herding them back onto the track. In the evening we reached a field at 4000 metres below a ridge and camped. We saw marmots here. There was a brief flurry of snow. Simon, Sue and I set off and climbed to the ridge 300 metres above to recce the route to the Langma la. From the ridge crest there was a snow valley leading off to the left and it was too cloudy to see far into it. It did not look promising.

Next morning four of us decided to try for the Langma La, a 5300 metre pass to the Kama Valley under Mt Everest. It apparently has stunning views of Everest, Lhotse and Makalu. Simon, Sue, B and I were up at 2.00 AM and away shortly afterwards. We climbed up a track to the ridge above camp and then turned left crossing some fields to a bridge across a creek and then left up the snow valley we’d seen the previous evening. We followed yak trails through dwarf juniper climbing above the creek below us on the left. It was dark and cloudy and our headlights picked out the narrow trail in front of us. We continued climbing into snow and our trail eventually reached a terrace and disappeared. At this point we decided to crash down through snow covered juniper to the valley floor. Here we followed up a level patch till we reached a frozen nomads tent. There was smell of burnt juniper so I guess there were occupants inside. We carried on into a huge boulder field where our morale was dropping fast. Where were we? Then we climbed a hill and the sky cleared revealing a sliver of moon and dark peaks all around us. We were in an upper valley and seemed to be climbing into a cirque or peaks. We plodded on up valley and found zig zag tracks up a steep snow covered scree slope on the true left. I was really feeling it here and slipped further behind the others. This led to a snow covered valley at 5000 metre. Above were a series of further valleys covered in snow. From here on it was a terrible struggle in the soft snow and heat and lack of oxygen. Sue ad Simon forged ahead. Belinda followed and I staggered along feeling like death warmed up. I dropped my rucksac 100 metres below the top of the pass and finally reached it at noon thoroughly pooped. The others were sitting on a rock further along the ridge but I did not have the energy to join them. I took a few photos, caught my breath and descended. I collected my rucksac and then crawled under a rock for some shade and ate some food. Then I started off moving slowly but with a lot less energy expended then when climbing up. Lower down we met the JoJoes and later Liz, Sonam and one of the Tibetan yak drivers.We reached camp in the afternoon.



On Tuesday we started back to Kharta which we reached at lunchtime. We loaded up the vehicles and left at 1.30 PM. Just before we left Sonam came to ask me for a tip for the yak drivers but I was not sympathetic as we had already paid them for a minimum of 10 days work for virtually two days work. We drove back to our old campsite by the Arun. On the way we had a breakdown and we used the time to dig out a landslip on the road further along that threatened to topple the truck off the cliffs. The drivers did not seem unduly worried though I was.

Wednesday dawned cold with new snow of the surrounding peaks. We left at 8.30 AM and drove back to Chengdu, then turned left up a very poor road over the Lamna La Pass. On the other side was the Re Chu. We stopped and Joe caught a sort of vole which bit his finger. Then we carried on along a wide cultivated valley to arrive at Old Tingri and the Snowlands Hotel. Now this was a novel experience for us. The rooms were arranged out back in a courtyard and were more like cells. The water supply was an open well and the shower had to be heated up and was a nozzle poking through the ceiling and a lino floor with a hole. The best feature about it were the attractive Chinese waitresses! The restaurant was a comfortable room lined with couches and here I met Anand Swaroop, leader of the Indian Cho Oyu expedition. We had a most convivial conversation.

Thursday dawned bright and clear. To the south were the highest mountains on earth, Everest, Cho Oyu standing high at the edge of the Tibetan plateau. Our road was dirt and swept to the west around a range of hills across a flat brown plain dotted here and there by old mud forts. Had Gengis Khan suddenly appeared on a ridge crest flanked by a thousand horsemen it would not have seemed out of place. We biked with Ross, Heidi and Liz. By now the wind was up and in our faces. At one of our stops Liz said “If we keep up this speed ( 6 kms/hr) Holy Jasus we’ll be up all night”.The road gradually swung south and later in the day we reached a nice campsite under the La Lung Pass. Simon and Sue with energy to burn went off and climbed a mountain opposite camp.

The next passes were the La Lung and Yakri Shong La both about 5000 metres. Simon and the JoJoes decided to bike over them and left early. The rest of us took the vehicles and caught up with them mid-morning. The views were spectacular_ a huge brown plain partly covered in snow bordered on the south by the Himalayas and on the west by Sishapangma, an 8000 metre peak in Tibet. It was freezing cold and windy on the passes. There was not a cloud in the sky.



We set off on the bikes down the road all except Liz who stayed in the landcruiser.

After 30 kilometres we stopped for lunch. Sue and Belinda arrived behind me. Belinda had been blown off her bike down a bank luckily unharmed. At the lunch spot a cow tried to eat Simons balaclava which he rescued. After lunch everyone shot off except B, Liz and I who took our time down to Nyalam and our camp spot.



The road dropped into a canyon bordered by spectacular snow peaks. Nyalam looks stunning in an alpine situation reminiscent of a Swiss town but on closer inspection it was quite grubby. Later that day we saw a group of golden eagles circling our camp.

On Saturday we woke to a lovely dawn with sun touching the tops of the snow peaks way above us. There was no wind and the temperatures were warmer. As usual B and I set off before the others biking down an amazing gorge flanked by snow covered peaks all the way to Zangmu. This too is a startling place perched on the side of a steep mountain. The streets were steep and full of trucks. I caught up with Sonam and the landcruiser. Poor Sonam had a sore eye maybe snow blindness from the day before. I had a good look at it and could not find any foreign body in the eye. I changed some yuan back to USD with a money changer. Then we spent quite a while clearing Chinese immigration and customs and carried on biking down to the Friendship Bridge. The poor truck driver got pulled over by a policeman and fined 1500 yuan for carrying Europeans. Apparently it is illegal!! This was the first I heard of this. Eventually crossed the Friendship Bridge and got our passport stamped on the far side and took off down the road into Nepal. There were some awful slums built beside the road.

We arrived at the Last Resort where there is a suspension bridge and bungy jumping which seemed incongruous with the local poverty. However the hotel was upmarket and very comfortable. They had beds in canvas tents and hot showers and a nice restaurant. Ramu arrived and we had a pleasant conversation. In the evening we has a nice meal and Ramu brought along some folk who sang and danced with us. We were jaded so we excused ourselves and headed off early.

On Sunday we made a late departure which was not wise as it turned out to be the hottest day of the trip. It was 100 kilometres to Kathmandu with a thousand metre pass to cross. B and I set off and bikes 40 kilometres on a good road down the valley to Dolalghat where the road starts to climb. On the hill before the town Liz’s bike peddle fell off and could not be repaired so I took it and free peddled down the hills to the river but from here on it was pushing it up hill. By now it was a free-for-all and most people were in front of us. The day was blisteringly hot and I was disappointed the bus was so far on as I had expected them to wait before the climb. There was no sign of B and Liz who had gone on and it was maybe 2 hours before the bus returned to collect me. By now any motivation I may have had to bike up the hill had evaporated. We drove on and met various members on the hill but no one jumped aboard. We eventually reached Dhulikhel, a town on top of the hill where we stopped in a luxury hotel to await the others.



They arrived later some looking exhausted. We had a nice meal there and I left early on my own to carry on to Kathmandu. Belinda was feeling unwell so stayed with the bus. From Dhulikhel It was down hill and I was biking along when Ercus caught me up. Together we biked on into very congested traffic with buses, trucks, motor cycles crowding the streets and us moving faster than them, weaving in and out and jumping onto the pavements to pass traffic jams. We had no idea where we were going but by asking policemen to direct us to Thamel we finally made it. We were only there a short while when the bus arrived. B was ill and took herself off to bed. I met the Corazzas there at long last. Bob and Frances are the organisers of the Nepal Cerebral Palsy Charity who we were raising funds for.

Next day we visited the Nepal Cerebral Palsy Centre on the south side of town and saw for ourselves what great work was being done for the cerebral palsy children attending the unit. We had an interesting talk with Prof Rajbhandari and Mr Bimal who are involved with the centre.



Our group managed to raise over 35,000 Euros towards a school building for the centre. The lions share was raised by Ercus and Vinnie in Ireland.

And then the company dispersed after many adventures on the 1000 kilometre journey across the Tibetan Plateau from the icy heights of the Yakri Shong la to the heat of Kathmandu. The trip in retrospect was very ambitious and the days biking too long. But we made it and we all stayed good friends through considerable adversity which was an accomplishment.

Acknowlegments: Our trip across Tibet would have been possible without the fantastic support of many people. Our thanks to Irene Schreiber of Active Travel, Ramu Sapkota of Adventure Silk Road, Govindra Sapkota our Nepali sirdar. Sonam our Tibetan Guide, Our 3 Sherpa camp staff and our 2 Tibetan drivers.

Stanley

Invercargill

New Zealand

Friday, December 17, 2010

Traverse of Turret Head and Seven Sister Ridge

The Seven Sister Ridge from Turret head to the West Peak of Mt Earnslaw has always interested me since I had a close up of it years ago in spring, bivvying on top of Turret Head. When I suggested we should have a closer inspection Peter was keen. We met on Friday evening in Queenstown after a medical course and drove up to Dan’s Paddock in the lower Dart Valley. Here we parked Pete’s car and set off up the obvious spur to the right of the creek draining Turret Head. I knew there was a marked route up the spur from my previous visit but it took some time to locate it. At 900 meters we reached a nice flat open area still in the bush and bivvied there. There was no wind and it was pleasantly warm and we slept soundly.










Next morning it was calm and clear as we set off early and climbed rapidly to bush-line. Then it was up tussock and scree slopes to the couloir on Turret Head. There were several hundred feet of hard frozen snow as we climbed up carefully to a small headwall where we dry tooled up some rock to the crest. This brought us onto a wide snow col and from here there was another short climb up rock to the summit at 2350 metres. There was a cold wind blowing from the north as we dropped down towards a breche on the Seven Sister Ridge. Here we did a short abseil and continued on down to a snow gully that dropped towards the Earnslaw Burn. Then it was a slow hot climb up softening snow back to a col 2240 metres. Above this there was a pyramid of snow and rock and beyond that a steep buttress of rock and snow slopes that had been wind-slabbing. We clearly did not have enough time to complete the climb and the weather was showing signs of a change for the worse.

From the snow col on the Seven Sister Ridge we set off down a short rock cliff onto snow and scree slopes on the Dart side. On down we went trying to sidle right to Spaniard Valley but cliffs and bluffs blocked our way forcing us to descend about 1000 meters directly down into a maze of steep sided gullies caused by eroding streams coming down the face. Eventually we found a lead across these and had to drop almost to bush-line before we could cross the last one. Then it was across tussock slopes sidling towards Spaniard Valley. Closer to it we could see some steep gullies on the outer rim of it and on one of them was a goat or deer trail which we followed successfully into the valley. From the lip of the valley I picked up an old cairn marking the trail down the cliff to the huge rock bivi. Pete headed off to get some water off the route and then we pulled into the welcome bivi for a rest and peaceful night.










The bivi is from the deer culler days when lone hunters would climb up here and hunt deer for the government. Year ago I climbed up here one winter with Mick Hutchins and Dave Waugh on our way up Pluto. I remember we lit a fire that night and Mick told us the history of the area as shadows danced on the dark walls and enormous roof. At 2.00 AM we set off across Spaniard Valley to climb up the Pluto Couloir in deep snow.

Next morning I was up early to seek water that necessitated a climb back up towards the lip of Spaniard Valley. It’s aptly named as there are loads of Wild Irishmen on the hillsides! After a leisurely breakfast we set off and descended the indistinct ridge running to the SW of Velpy’s Pass. Then it was a slow descent down to Chinaman’s Flat and back to Dan’s Paddock.

An ascent of Turret Head and the Seven Sister Ridge on 4/5 December 2010 by Peter O’Neill and Stan Mulvany

Saturday, November 13, 2010

An ascent of Mt Pembroke from Thurso River

I had little warning of this climb. On Thursday night Simon rang and asked me if I was free for the weekend as the weather would be perfect for an ascent. The ideal conditions not only meant fine weather but also calm conditions for the 14-kilometer paddle there and back plus the landing on an open surf beach. I readily agreed as this was new territory and had the making of a great adventure. Years ago I climbed Pembroke from the east via the Lippe Couloir and this was a memorable climb too.

We decided to leave on Friday evening and stopped for dinner with Sue Lake in Te Anau before carrying to Homer Hut where we spent the night. The sky was clear as we left there at 4.00 AM for the final run to Milford Sound. We drove to Fisherman’s Wharf at Deep Water basin and quickly loaded our sea kayaks. Then we were paddling out in the dark past Mitre Peak towards the entrance to Milford Sound. The night faded when we were abreast of the Stirling Falls as we flew our sails and moved swiftly along to Dale Point. The Milford Wanderer passed us as we turned the point and we headed north to Thurso. The sea was calm with a small chop and we landed at the beach through a modest surge. Here we changed into our mountaineering gear and carried our kayak up the beach and tied them to a large driftwood log.


Thurso River was open and bouldery for about a kilometer when the bush closed in. Good deer trails took us up the river to the 500-meter level. I was moving along quietly when I saw a large gray deer staring at me a short distance ahead. It had spikes of antlers and ran towards me to see me better which startled me. Simon hissed and it suddenly took off. We climbed up the right hand side of the main creek and then swung around up the face towards Pembroke. Good deer trials took us up to the 1000-meter level where we left the bush and climbed up slabs and tussock to camp at 1100 meters. As the tops were in cloud we postponed a summit bid till Sunday. Simon went off to check out his old route up a pinnacle ridge further south on a previous unsuccessful attempt.



We set the alarm for 5.00 AM next morning and started climbing shortly afterwards. Easy buttresses and snow slopes led to the ridge at 1779 meters. Then it was an easy glacier walk to the summit at 2015 meters.


The day was perfect with almost no wind and clear visibility from Mt Aspiring in the north to Mt Tutoko to Mt Coronation in the far south. At 9.30 AM we left the summit and quickly descended to our camp and loaded up for the descent. This time we took a more direct route to the valley floor that went well though we did descend some small cliffs. After an uneventful walk back to Thurso Beach we launched our kayaks each of us collecting a wave in the face as we broke out to sea.

The sea was calm to Dale point with a gently westerly as we flew our sails. However in the outer fjord we ran into a very strong onshore wind that rose to maybe 30 knots and made sailing impossible. Simon is more relaxed in these conditions but I had to work hard to stay upright. Great gusts of wind would sweep up behind me and skew the kayak broadside on the wind waves. A swift stern rudder would correct this. At 8.00PM we finally made it back the wharf.

An ascent of Mt Pembroke via Thurso River by Simon Marwick and Stanley Mulvany on 30/31 October 2010

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Adventures in Iceland


Iceland is a large island about the size of England situated on the Mid-Atlantic Ridge just south of the Arctic Circle between Scandinavia and North America. It lies on a fault line where North American and the Eurasian tectonic plates are pulling apart causing frequent massive volcanic eruptions, the most recent being Eyjafjallajokull which grounded air traffic across the North Atlantic shortly before we arrived.

Belinda has been keen to visit this country for a long time and indeed I have been curious to see it as well so we decided last year to travel there in June 2010. As a warm-up I went first to Corsica to traverse the GR20. We left on 7th June and flew from Heathrow to Keflavik, took the airport bus to Reykjavik and booked into the Salvation Army hostel, which run a basic self-catering hostel. We spent 2 days exploring Reykjavik that is an attractive modern city.

We found that the best value in getting around Iceland was to buy a circle bus ticket which at 53,000 Iceland Kroners was not cheap. We went first to Vestmannaeyjar or the Westman Island to Heimaey. First though we had to get a bus to Porlakshofn and then a ferry. Once we cleared Reykjavik the landscape was lunar, a dramatic change. The ferry terminal was crowded with children and at first we were told the ferry was booked out but when I went back later they said they could take us. The journey out took 2.5 hours and was uneventful. I tried ringing guesthouses but could get no reply. We shouldered our packs and walked to the campground that was situated in the bowl of an extinct volcano. In the evening we set out and climbed Blatindur ( 273M) that was steep with lots of nesting fulmars on its cliffs. We traversed around to the next hill east and down to the town.

We got a hamburger and headed back to camp. It rained during the night and was still drizzling next morning. We set off to walk to the end of the island to see puffins but there was not much to see. We walked back to town and visited a Norwegian Stave Church down by the harbour. This was presented to the Heimaey people by the Norwegian government in 2000. We walked up through the lava area created by a massive eruption in 1973. This destroyed 360 houses and created a new mountain Eldfell. Advancing lava threatened to close the harbour and strenuous efforts to pour cold sea water on it worked stopping the lava 175 metres from the harbour mouth. We climbed up Eldfell which is a red cinder cone and found hot air vents on the summit and a cave heated by steam where we spent a while out of the freezing wind.

We returned to camp to find a strong wind blowing and a nearby tent being destroyed. We moved camp into the lee of the toilet block but this did not help much in the katabatic winds. Eventually we were forced to take down our tent and sleep in the toilet block. Next day we decided to return to the mainland. We got on the 8.15 AM ferry back to Porlakshofn on a calm clear day. Then we got a bus back to Reykjavik where we had a meal at the bus terminus, did some internet business, got some money out of an ATM, and boarded a bus to Skogar. There is a camping ground at the base of the Skogafoss waterfall beneath the Eyjafjallajokull icecap. This was nicely laid out below the falls that are very high and impressive. Belinda went off to take some pics of the falls while I got camp sorted out. Later I went for a walk and noted a thick layer of ash on the track by the waterfall. It rained during the night.

Next day we caught the bus to Vik, a small town further east on the south coast. It was drizzling again and we stayed at the Gistihus Arsalir in sleeping bag accommodation in a room to ourselves. There was a nice kitchen and it was very comfortable in the wet weather. We visited the folk museum and saw an interesting video on the Katla Volcano thought to be nearing another eruption. This volcano is beneath the Myrdalsjokull icecap nearby. Its previous eruption was in 1918. An eruption is expected to release 200,00-300,000 tons of ice/water per second. We were going to walk up the hill behind town but the weather was too miserable. Belinda went off and photographed a colony of Arctic Terns.

We had a comfortable night at Gistihus Arsalir and decided to travel on to Skaftafell. We left our packs there and went for a walk up the hill for a better view. We met a nice French couple in their 70’s. Cloud covered the icecaps and there were good views along the coast. At lunchtime we got the bus onwards passing enormous glaciers of the Vatnajokull icecap. We arrived at the park HQ at Skaftafell where there is a nice campground.

The views were superlative. As it was sunny and warm we decided to head off after pitching the tent for a walk up Skaftafellsheidi, the mountain behind the campground. The track climbs up through low birch forest to an open heathland with great views of Skaftafelljokull ice stream. It climbs to a place called Glama at 650 m. that is a fine view point. Belinda took a shorter route back and I carried on around the base of Kristinartindar to another view-point at Nyrorihnaukur. From here there was a ridge walk back to the campground. We cooked dinner and discussed plans for the morrow. Belinda graciously said I was free to do an ascent of Hvannadalshnukur (2110m) the highest peak in Iceland that was now clear rising above the Vatnajokull.

I awoke at 4.00AM and it was daylight of course as there is no darkness in June in Iceland. I had some food and stole away from the tent and walked 14 kilometres to Sandfell where the track up the mountain starts. I missed the turnoff at first and had to backtrack. There were 3 glacier guide vehicles parked there and no sign of anyone about. I started up the track at about 8.00. This sidled up rocks and then loose scree onto a grassy upland. Higher up the track headed for a rocky ridge that climbed up to the left onto a rocky ridge. Here there were some stone cairns to follow but these eventually disappeared. I carried on up to some stony hills and beyond them lay a glacier partially clouded in. Thankfully there were steps up the glacier that I followed. The view was obscured by cloud higher up and the glacier gently climbed into this. The going was easy in neve ice but higher up I reached soft snow and the footprints were old so I was kicking steps from then on. The cloud thickened and I was concerned it might snow and put paid to my climb. At about 1900 metres in mist I suddenly met a roped party descending led by a female guide. We exchanged pleasanteries. They were obviously startled to find a solo climber seemingly inadequately dressed ( in shorts) and sporting an ice-axe and leki pole ascending alone. Then I was on the plateau of the Vatnajokull and level walking in whiteout to the west for maybe 20 minutes till all of a sudden it cleared revealing a magnificent glaciated peak right in front of me. I easily climbed up steps on steep slopes to the wide summit reaching it at 14.15.


It had taken me 6 hours to climb 2000 metres. There was an extensive view all around of the Vatnajukull ice cap and cloud filled all the valleys and coastal plain. I took a few photos and started a rapid descent. At the edge of the ice cap was the cloud that I entered and made fast progress down this to the rocky ridge. Lower down the cloud was quite thick and I had to guess my way down the ridge. Then suddenly I dropped below the cloud layer and could make out my ascent route. Out on the sandurs, braided streams sparkled in the westering sun. I reached the car park at tea time where I stopped to change into my road shoes as my mountaineering boots were too painful to wear on the return 14 kilometer walk. I returned back to camp at 20.00 after a 15 hour day pretty happy with the effort. It was good to see Belinda and she had had an easy, enjoyable day though she found her walk a fizzer.

The next day we caught the bus to Hofn, a town to the east of Skaftafell. At Jokulsarolon we stopped for an hour. There was a large lake filled with ice bergs calving off a vast outwash glacier of the Vatnajokull. A River carried them into the sea. It was windy and cold.

Arriving in Hofn we walked to the Hvammur Guesthouse to find there were several building in town by the company and our accommodation was at the other end of town. The directions we were given were vague so we set off and of course could not find it. Eventually after considerable trouble we found our accommodation that was very nice and modern. The following day we caught the next bus to Egilsstadoir and in the middle of nowhere we had a flat tire. It was windy and wet as the poor bus driver had to change the tire only to find the spare did not fit. Luckily some locals stopped to help and took the tire away and got it fixed. From Egilsstadoir we caught another but to Seydisfjordur. The ride was spectacular as we climbed over an alpine pass covered in deep snow and frozen lakes and then plunged down into a gorgeous green valley with a colourful town in the fjord.


We stayed at the youth hostel and unfortunately we had an elderly fat American woman with a handicapped son in our room who made a lot of noise all night. We left the next day for lake Myvatn.

The bus journey was interesting as we crossed quite barren landscape and then seemed to reach a green, warmer land of lakes and small volcanos. Accommodation was limited so we opted for a campground on the north side of town. I was concerned about the wind and whether it would affect our tent but it seemed to be OK. Late in the day some people arrived and camped near us wakening us up. I slept poorly.

We woke to another good day. We hired mountain bikes at the campground and on the way out dropped into a local hotel and enquired about hiring a car for the next day, a fortuitous decision in retrospect. We visited Hverfell that is a symmetrical Tephra Volcano. We climbed it and walked around the rim.

Then we biked on to Dimmuborgir that are lava fields with weird arches and pillars where we went for a walk. Further south we came to Hofoi that is a forested headland on Lake Myvatn.

It was warm and sunny as we went for a walk around it. There were lots of birds on the lake diving for fish. Further on was the town of Skutustadir. Here there were clusters of pseudocraters. Then we were biking up the western side of the lake on narrow tar sealed roads. About 5 kilometres from the campsite I skidded on the side of the road and crashed heavily onto the hardtop. The crash was so unexpected and violent I was just stunned but one look at my left hand confirmed my worst fears. In addition to a laceration there was deformity to the base of my little finger very suggestive of a fracture. Blood dripped off my face and my shoulder did not feel good. I managed to get to my feet and then found the front axle of the bike was broken so I wheeled it all the way back to the camp 5 kilometres away. I then pulled out my first aid kit boiled up my surgical kit and stitched up the wound without any local anaesthetic. We found some cardboard that we fashioned into a splint.

The following day we picked up the hire car and drove to Akureyri, Iceland’s second city on the Eyjafjordur fjord. It was about 100 kilometres away. Once there we found the hospital and went to the Emergency Department where I had my hand x-rayed that revealed an angulated fracture of the left 5th metacarpal bone. I saw an orthopaedic surgeon there who gave me a local anaesthetic and manipulated it and put it in a plaster. I paid the account and left. We drove to Husavik where I had booked accommodation in the Adalbjorg Guesthouse. A pleasant older couple ran it. Belinda went off on a whale watching trip while I cruised the town.

After a pleasant night we left early next day and drove north and then east to Asbyrgi that lies in the Jokulsargljufur National Park. We parked our hire car there and went for a walk up on the Eyjan Rock Island. This was interesting but by no means spectacular. We then continued south to a barren plateau to visit Dettifoss, Europe’s biggest waterfall by volume. It is 100m wide and 45m high and a powerful sight. It tumbles over a cliff creating its own rainbow and its mist nutures mosses on the surrounding cliffs.

Then it was on to Krafla to see the steam vents and an active thermal field with boiling mid holes. Belinda went to see the bird museum and then we climbed Vindbelglarfjall 529m and a great viewpoint over Lake Myvatn. We camped that night at the other campground at Bjarg beside the lake.

Next day it was back on the bus to Akureyri that left in the afternoon. We picked a nice place to stay there up the hill from the bus terminus called Gistiheimilid Sulur. This had a nice room and guest kitchen. Once we checked in we took off and found the Public Library and spent an hour on the internet. Then we picked up some food for dinner back at our accommodation. Belinda was feeling unwell so did not eat much. Our next jump was to Isafjordur in the Westfjords. We had to make 3 bus connections to get there. On the way I rang all the guesthouses and they were either full or too expensive so we decided to camp. The camping ground is a lawn outside the Edda Hotel that only operates when the local high school is in recess.

On Wednesday we took the boat to Hysteyri in the afternoon. We planned on a 5-day tramp in Hornstrandir, a huge mountainous peninsula between Jokulfirdir and the Denmark Strait. We bought 5 days food in the local supermarket and left surplus gear at the Information Centre and caught the boat in the afternoon. Its quite a way across the fjord which took at least an hour. When we arrived we met an American called Henry Romer who was also planning a tramp there. From Hysteyri we followed a track along the side of the fjord and then climbed about 230m onto a plateau. The route was marked by giant cairns. Snow lay deep upon the surrounding flat-topped mountains. Eventually we reached a pass called Kjaransvikurskard 410m. On the far side we descended a valley to a green coastal plain at Hloduvik where we set up camp beside a mound covered in Angelica, site of an abandoned farm.

The coastline was littered in drift logs washed up from North America. We had a leisurely start and walked around the coast to Budir where there was a house and campsite. I was unsure at that stage if we were allowed to freedom camp but no one seemed to mind. There were a number of campers there who waved to us. I recognised one tent belonging to the not so secret “widdler”. I had the misfortune of walking past that tent one morning back in Isafjordur when the female occupant decided to have a pee in the vestibule of her tent not realising it was pretty obvious to passing traffic! The track climbed up a steep hill over a pass at 300m and then contoured along an upland plain past tarns and snow drifts to the Atlaskaro Pass.

From here we dropped to the sea and walked around the coast to Hornavik Bay. We passed a red emergency shelter like a space capsule and then past Hofn we continued along to the river that we waded across and camped by a volcanic dyke. There was a cold wind off the sea and there were lots of bright flowers so it was not all grim.

It drizzled during the night and was cold but we were snug in our sleeping bags and tent. We awoke to a pleasant day though still cloudy. The pressure was high at 1017mb a promising sign. I got up first and got breakfast ready. Then B got up. We decided to collapse the tent in case the wind got up and left our surplus gear for our day hike out to the Hornbjarg. This great hook like peninsula has one of the largest sea bird colonies in Europe on it vertical cliffs and is a ‘must see’ in Hornstrandir. We walked along the beach past a farm house towards the far end of the peninsula and then climbed up a track to 200m where the cliffs start. Just then an arctic fox popped up from the cliff in front of us carrying a large white bird in its mouth.

It trotted past hardly noticing us and headed off down to a dip on the ridge to feed its young. We gingerly peered over the edge to see lots of birds mostly Brunnicks Guillemots, Kittewakes, some Puffins and Fulmars.






Belinda was in her element photographing madly. We climbed over Midfell. There were great views over to a sharp crennleatd peak called Kalfatinder. Off to the south cloud was layering and spilling over the main divide peaks.


We dropped down to the coast and walked back to our campsite. There we packed up and walked back to Hofn to camp among the drift wood there.

Hofn was a pleasant spot with some large driftwood logs and a nice camping area with some toilets. There were a few people camped there including Henry, the American. He joined us for dinner which we had sitting on the grass behind a log sheltering us from the ever present wind. He told us of a nice Icelandic movie called “ Children of Nature” which we could not find prior to our departure from Iceland. An Arctic fox paid us a visit quite unafraid. I think one of the locals feeds them.

The next day was fine and I suggested to Belinda we return by a different route to Hysteyri via Veidileysufjordur, the next fjord to the east of Hysteyrarfjordur. It was a pleasant morning though a cold wind blew off the sea. We said goodbye to Henry and set off for the Hafnarskard, the pass through the mountains to Veidileysufjordur. A path led up the valley and then petered out but I guessed we had to climb up to the upland plateau to find our pass. Sure enough when we reached it a line of tall stone cairns tracked off towards the mountains now covered in cloud. B was not happy because her pack was heavy so offloaded gear onto me. We eventually found the pass and crossed over to a gorgeous sight of the fjord below us.
We photographed a golden plover on the descent. We walked around the coast to camp at Steinolfsstaoir, a deserted creek by the sea. We had a wash and set up camp. There was no sign of a track over the mountains but I had a hunch where the route would go.

The map shows a route swinging to the north beside a stream and then trending off to the west to cross over a mountain to the Kjaransvikurskard. There were no guiding cairns but the route was straightforward. The highest pint was 618 metres, a flat snow-covered windswept plateau. Once we reached the pass we had crossed on the way in it was a straightforward descent back to Hysteyri.


Arriving there we spied people getting on the boat across to Isafjordur so we asked if we could go a day early. This was a good move as it was blowing quite hard and I think we might have had some difficulty pitching the tent. Back at Isafjordur we booked into the Gistihusid Gamla. We went to a nice Thai restaurant for a meal and then bought some groceries plus a huge tart. Back at the guest house we shared a room with a Swiss couple on their honeymoon.

We had a restless night as it was hot where we stayed. We got away to the information centre where the bus leaves from only to find it had just left. The bus time table said 9.30 but in fact it left at 9.00. Then Daniel and Merlesse, the Swiss couple who shared our room turned up in a hire car and invited us to spend the day with them. Their boat to Hornavik was out of action. So we left our surplus gear in the Information Centre and drove out Bolingarvik to the road end where there were a few houses and a desolate beach where we went for a walk. On the way back we walked up a gravel road to the top of Bolafjall where there was a great view out across Isafjardardjup to Hornstrandir. Back in Isafjordur I treated our friends to a hot drink and a pastry. Then we retired to the library to use the internet for an hour. We decided to camp that night at Edda.

We now had another two days to spend in Isafjordur till the next bus out. That’s the problem with buses in parts of remote Iceland in that the bus service is so infrequent. Finally on 30th we got the bus south. Belinda did a side trip to Latraberg to see puffins while I took an earlier ferry across to Stykkisholmar. The hostel there was full so we camped just out of town. Next day we carried on the Olafvik hoping to climb Snaefellsjokull that is a glaciated volcano at the tip of the Snaefellsness peninsula. It was not a good day as B wanted to go there despite a bad forecast and then refused to camp in the rain and insisted on staying in a hotel. As it turned out it was great value at 8500 ISK about $95 NZD. It poured all day and blew a gale so we spend most of the time indoors.

After a nice breakfast we caught the bus to Reykjavik as the barometric pressure was low though there was some sun and blue sky. We stayed in the Salvation Army hostel there and then flew back to London a week early. And so ended our Icelandic trip. My lasting impressions were of a unique landscape, an inspiring climb to the top of the Vatnajokull, the magnificent cliffs of the Hornbjarg and a broken hand.

An account of a trip to Iceland 7/6/10-3/8/10 by Belinda and Stanley Mulvany