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| Alta Via Resiana / Visoka
Rosojanska Pot by morceaux |
It was back in 1999 when I first
encountered high mountains.
I was sitting in a car with 4 of my caver friends, and we were heading towards
Predel / Predil pass from Italy. After we passed the border, I first spotted the
giants of the Western Julian Alps like Mangart and Jalovec.
I was enchanted. First I couldn't take even a breath! How beautiful these peaks
are! And I am going to descend deep under them... What a pity.
I began to click my cheap pocket camera through the car window like an insane.
Didn't care about traffic signs and trees and poles would be on the pictures,
just wanted to take home all the scenery.
We arrived at the last minute before the start of the last cable car in Sella
Hauled the huge sacks from the car to the station, and began the ascent. An
immense panorama to the north, to Vis and Montaz group opened before my eyes
through the scratched window of the cabin. I could not close my mouth...
Then we occupied the attic of Rifugio Gilberti, and I went outside and looked
All the eastern part of the Kanin / Canin ridge was above me, from Prestreljenik
/ Monte Forato to Srednji Vrsic, and Bila Pec.
It was February, the cold was harsh and the snow was screaming under my boots.
The second day we went through Sella Bila Pec in deep snow with heavy rucksacks,
and we were hauling extra bags. It took several hours to get to
Davanzo-Vianello-Piccola bivouac on Col delle Erbe. At this time the old bivouac
was still open, and the new one was under construction. From this point I beheld
the huge north face of Monte Canin / Visoki Kanin, and I knew my fate... I must
come back and go to the top someday...
And then we descended deep below the surface into Michele Gortani System and
spent a week underground, and I have been dreaming about those beautiful
Via Cassin, Piz Badile by Koen |
Last winter I spent four days skitouring
around Bivio, in the Swiss kanton of Graubunden. We did some nice tours around
the Julierpass, close to St.-Moritz. One of the tours took us to Piz Turba
(3.018m), a rewarding goal for skitourers.
| A Trip Through the Eons by thephotohiker |
Carved below the eastern
rim of the Paunsaugunt Plateau, Bryce Canyon is a geologic wonderland. Standing
as what may be Earth’s most famous example of pinnacled badlands, eons of
erosion and weather have carved a natural amphitheater filled with pinnacles,
spires, columns, arches, and bridges.
Counting Sheep on the Whites Traverse
by Greg Enright |
I suppose it starts the same for everyone, a look over from a summit in the Sierra to the White Mountains sparks an urge to explore the tall, barren desert range. Then, forays to the Bristlecone Pine groves and White Mountain Peak lead to an intense curiousity about the ridge beyond the peak, the long rolling ridgeline between White and Montgomery, where Desert Bighorn run among the rocks and the wild horses forage in the flats. And so it started with me. Almost thirty years ago, a planned backpack traverse of the Whites fell victim to circumstance and lack of will. Subsequent opportunities would have taken too much time away from family, so all invitations were declined. The idea of the Traverse faded with time, but the ridgeline was never forgotten, you can't help but see the distinctive silhouette of the Whites everyday from Mammoth, thirty miles away.More
| Under dying mountains by reinhard2 |
Actually this TR is sort of anti-TR, since neither successes nor spectacular escapes or failures are to be reported. It simply shares the insights of a weekend, which bore out fewer expectancies than it had promised before. Part of that is due to the unexpected experience of mountains visibly falling asunder - dying mountains. What struck me here so unexpectedly is surely no particular property of the particular area of southern Stubai group in the Alps, where this weekend derolled, but can of course also be found elsewhere. Here lies the rationale to share this TR as a general TR, not just as an account in the German corner of SP, where most of the people who know this area belong to. Finally, it also touches the general point that difficulties and wearisome situations are mastered (or not) by the strength of the mind, not primarily by the fitness of the body.More
| San Gorgonio 17 Peaks by Rick Kent |
Of all the Sierra Club HPS (Hundred Peaks Section) reports I've read there is one that stands out and I've never forgotten about it since the first time I read it. In 1996 Eric Siering did a solo dayhike of the Gorgonio range which included an astounding 17 peaks. This was truly a remarkable accomplishment and from time to time I've pondered whether I might be able to do at least a part of it. The trouble however was the necessary car shuttle. Eric's route (starting at Fish Creek and descending to Angeles Oaks) was the most logical and efficient. Not that there's anything wrong with a car shuttle but I have a history of finding other ways (which typically involves a greater degree of torture):More
| Accursed Mountains 2006, Part 1.
Cappo di Thethi. by kamil |
Croatia, the old road Zagreb - Varaždin, parallel to the motorway, somewhere before Novi Marof. Sharp right turn, badly profiled, tightening. Fourth gear, gas blip, third, fuck it, still getting tighter, I didn’t predict that, now I know I’m gonna fly out of my lane. A big lorry slowly crawls up the opposite lane. I lose traction, tyres screeching, I’m going head on into the lorry. A glimpse of a wide, bumpy, gravelled shoulder on the outside. Coincidence, or maybe the road designers predicted it. Alright, let’s get the fuck out of here. Regaining traction, getting the wheels straight, still braking, I cut past the front of the lorry, five, maybe ten metres from it, into the roadside, my mind registering everything in slow motion. Shaking on the bumps, losing speed. Immediately I get back on the road and drive on. Only after a while I realise what happened and my heart jumps into my throat. Gratefulness. Someone’s keeping an eye. Karabaja again? Perhaps a higher instance this time.More
| Tranquillity and Solitude
Tomorrow was a Saturday – we started out by car around seven,
having stored the guidebooks somewhere in the backpack, crossed the Slovenian
– Italian border – not without fumbling one of the passports (our usual feat
to entertain the customs officers) – and headed for Tarvisio, Lago di Predil
and Sella Nevea. There was more traffic than the time before but at first we
didn’t care. We passed the trailhead for the normal route to Jôf Fuart and
wondered about the many cars parked there, most of them with Austrian license
plates. We were held up by more Austrian cars on the road but I quickly overtook
them rushing up to the ski town of Sella Nevea.
| Three weeks in Caucasus. Part 1 -
Bezengi by arturf |
expedition was the first experience of climbing at altitude for me, as all my
previous trips were in Tatra Mountains with summits below 2500m. I tried to
describe extencively my feeling and thoughts in this article rather then
technical details, as it is aimed to reflect an authentic impressions of a
person, who is trekking and climbing at the altitude for the first time.
| Success, Failure, and the
Staggering Magnificence of Mount Cleveland by Saintgrizzly |
Although there are other routes, the goat-trail traverse across the Stoney Indian Peaks is the most scenic, shortest, and easiest way to do it. After crossing from the U.S. into Canada, taking the launch from the WatertonTownsite, then re-entering the U.S. at Goat Haunt, it is the most fun for your time. Besides, on the way across the eight miles of Upper Waterton Lake, among other nice things you get your first view of the famous and infamous Mount Cleveland North Face. So if you weren't psyched before, things are definitely improving, because you are now. Looking 6,000-and-some feet up to a summit not really all that far away, of which about 4,500 feet are precipitous and vertical, will do a number on you; trumpets blow in your mind, you want to scream at everyone else on the boat to "Look, look at that! For crying out loud, will you just LOOK!" But whatever else is going on in your head, no matter how the band plays, there is just this huge, gigantic monster-of-a-mountain sliding quietly through the view before the boat. Sitting there, silently doing its thing, while you go berserk at the unreasonable, incongruous size of it all.More
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