From climbing up mountains to jumping off them
The southern gully of Point John is equal in quality and aesthetics to any mountaineering route in my more local playground of Mont Blanc. The fact that it is in equatorial Africa, looking down onto a glacier just adds to this spectacular route.
A powerful easterly wind rips up the great sand dune. It takes with it the desert heat and animates the sand into a frenzy, blasting my face. I have travelled with my wife halfway around the world in search of flight and by chance have met up with our African friends.
Autumn is a strange time of the year for me. Motivation for wingsuit and BASE jumping is low. It’s the end of the jumping season and wet valleys create low lying clouds. Damp fields and cold morning temperatures disparage me from committing to long hikes for the jumps. The higher mountains are also in between seasons. Gondolas are closed and the snow isn’t quite there for complete ski descents. Alpine ice is not yet formed.
It’s fair to say lock down has effected us all. The most important lesson I learnt while serving in the Royal Marines is to adapt, improvise and overcome. My international travel plans and work had been cancelled for the year. I was fortunate to be stuck in Switzerland with it’s lax lock down rules. It was time to focus on the climbs and flights I had my eye on for years but had been too distracted before.
I drove into Chamonix past the familiar branded roundabout. Two alpinists had their heads down, fully kitted up and clearly just finished some adventure. I secretly wished I was them, having just finished their objective; worn out but content. When they freshen up with a burger in their stomachs they will revel in what they have just achieved. But for now they walked slumped, tired and hungry with a heavy pack digging into their shoulders. In 48 hours I would still be on the mountain wishing I was back down in the valley .
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Tonsai is a paradise. Even with the whole world crumbling around us. Anxiety had hit the climbers in Tonsai. Last minute flights were booked in fear of being locked out of their own country. Apart from the wifi connection updating us with the progress of the virus, we were isolated. Disconnected from the world. Instead we spent our time focusing on the moves on a route or meticulously packing our parachutes.
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A recce is seldom wasted, a phrase I have abided by ever since hearing it 10 years ago whilst serving as a Royal Marine. In this case it was no exception. We came to establish relationships with the locals, to set up a suitable camp and locate the access for the climb as well as landing for a potential BASE jump.
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I was dropped off at the Mozambique/Malawi border by a three strong gang of motorbike riders – I had a lot of kit. Behind the haze huge granite domes loomed in the distance, a seemingly endless amount of granite. I was surprised how swiftly my visa was issued but before both feet left the room I was ushered back in to see a ministry of health representative. After much rustling of papers he mentioned my paperwork wasn’t in order, but five dollars would fix this problem.
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Growing up I was surrounded by sailing. I would walk to nursery along the foreshore listening to the cables slapping against the masts. But while my friends grew up to become national champions and presidents of the local clubs, I instead looked up to the mountains. On ski holidays I would gaze up at the snowy summits and wish to climb them without the use of lifts. As a christening present a family friend promised me a set of sailing waterproofs when I came of age, and on my 21st birthday he reminded me of this offer. Instead I asked for a contribution towards my first parachute.
Read moreThere is very little information to be found on climbing in Greenland. Especially for what is most probably the most climbed route; the Swiss route on the Ketil Pryamid, first thought to have been climbed by a Swiss team in the 80’s.
