Category Archives: Climbing

Svalbard Part 4: To the icy core

A glacier is more than an ice cube. Rather than being solid, uniform blocks, glaciers can have incredible variations throughout in terms of structure, temperature, and movement. The surface and the base of a glacier can communicate with each other, and the language of this communication is water.

When ice and snow on the surface of a glacier melts, it can produce a lot of water. Streams of this meltwater flow over the surface of a glacier during the warmer months of the year. These streams can cut or ‘erode’ into the glacier, creating paths or channels which the water flows through. Over time, these channels can cut deeper and deeper into the glacier, their roofs closing over to create tunnels through the ice which can bring the meltwater from the surface all the way down to the bottom of the glacier. This is important because increasing the amount of water underneath a glacier can encourage it to slide faster.

During the cold winter months, melt channels are generally dry. We had explored one of these channels previously on Scott Turnerbreen (see Svalbard Part 2: Balancing Act), and decided that some more time under the ice was needed. There had been reports of an excellent ice cave on Larsbreen, a glacier within an hour’s hike of Longyearbyen. So one Tuesday evening, with duties at UNIS finished for the day, Tom, Ellie, Jelte, and myself met on the outskirts of the village, and began the trek to the glacier. Our plan was to explore the cave for a few hours, and then being a bunch of idiots, to stay overnight inside the ice.

(A note on the images: the caves in the glacier were entirely dark, with our headlamps being the only source of light. Therefore, for me, much of the photography was experimental; playing around with shutter speeds, iso settings, and flashes, while avoiding damaging my camera too much when climbing and crawling. As always, click on images to see them in full resolution)

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_1_Longyearbyen_at_night
Nighttime in the mountains above Longyearbyen.

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_1_group_outside2
At the cave entrance, on Larsbreen.

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_1_Tom_Jelte_ice_ribs
The walls of the channel were lined with a huge variety of beautiful and delicate ice structures.

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_1_Tom_icicle_light

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_1_Tom_Jelte_distant

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_1_Ellie_in_ice
Glaciologist: defrosting.

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_1_Tom_Jelte_icicle2

By the light of the moon, we found the entrance to the cave; first squeezing into a tunnel down through the overlying snow to get into the glacier itself. The passage through the ice twisted, widened, and narrowed, like a desert rock canyon; in sections coated in fragile crystal structures, then changing  to smooth, swirled patterned walls like polished marble. We followed the channel as far as we could go, descending through a series of levels and passages until we were forced to stop at a major drop; the location of what would have been a waterfall during the melt season. We picked a spot where we could roll out our bags for a few hours, and returned to the surface for some frigid air before sleep. On the way to the surface, I had a ‘how did I get here’ moment; crawling out of a glacier through a snow tunnel in the middle of the night, with a rifle on my back to watch out for polar bears, and being greeted by the northern lights.

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_1_Jelte_Ellie_sleeping_bag
Our home for the night: a cosy ice chamber inside the glacier.

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_1_Tom_Ellie_sleeping_bag
Student accommodation in the Arctic can be grim

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_1_ice_mri
My choice of sleeping spot, or as it became know as, the ‘MRI machine’.

 

Our night in the glacier was a memorable experience, but it felt like the caves had a lot more to show us had we been willing to push a little further. A few days later, we returned to Larsbreen.  Armed with ice climbing gear, Tom, Andi, and myself  would attempt to work our way down some of the larger drops that had stalled us on the previous visit, and see how deep we could get.

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_Andi_Start

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_Andi_wooden_ladder
Descent was carried out through the use of ladders, fixed ropes, and rappels for the longer drops.

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_Andi_crystal_entrance

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_Group_upladder

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_Andi_chimney
Climbing up

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_Frank_descending
Climbing down

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_Frank_ice_eye

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_chimney_looking_down
Climbing my way up through an ice chimney.

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_Tom_beginning_rappel
Tom, about to drop over the edge of the first rappel section, which was extremely narrow.

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_roof_wave
Close to the base of the glacier, looking upwards through the section we had just rappelled down. The dark bands in the ice are layers of debris and sediment (rock and soil) that has been picked up by the glacier as it moved along the valley floor.

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_Tom_tightspot
Getting narrow…

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_Tom_tightspot2
Narrower…

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_base_cavern_roof1
Wide. We reached the base of the glacier to find a cathedral of ice.

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_Andi_Rchannel
Crawling through an R channel (a tunnel cut into the bottom of the ice by a stream running along the bed), with the entire glacier above our heads.

 

_DSC1229
(photo: Andi Alex)

 

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_Andi_base_1

Svalbard_Larsbreen_caves_part_2_Andi_end2
End of the line. The channel eventually became too narrow for us to proceed further.

 

_DSC1281
Belaying Tom up the last pitch of ice climbing (photo: Andi Alex).

 

_DSC1290
Back on the surface, and being watched by a distant reindeer (photo: Andi Alex).

 

We found the bed of the glacier, and it was an awe inspiring experience to have this entire mass of ice lying above us. My thanks to my like-minded companions on both trips for their company; the highlight of being in such incredible places is to share it with great people.

Vantage Point

We drove through the snow to get to the desert.

Our destination was south of the 49th parallel, to the home of some of Washington state’s finest rock climbing, Vantage. The drive east from Seattle is a compressed lesson in geography. Leaving behind the moist, cloud catching city on the Pacific coast, the road quickly rises to thread the barrier of the Cascade mountain range. Snow drifts, and white peaks signal the temperature drop as our altitude increases. Descending on the eastern side of the range, the snow vanishes as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a dry, rocky expanse, shielded from the moisture to the west by its lofty neighbours.

IMG_6819_CR2_hdr_bw
Landscape surrounding Vantage

We were a party of climbers from the University of British Columbia’s Varsity Outdoor Club (UBC VOC), with a plan to escape the inclement weather in Vancouver for a weekend. Having only decided to go the day before, approaching the US border, I had images of paperwork problems,  and forcing my Canadian co-passengers to turn around and drop me at the nearest bus route back to Vancouver. In reality, the crossing was seamless; the benefit of an Irish passport. With the 450km drive complete, including a supply stop at the vast wilderness that is the American supermarket, we arrived just before midnight on Friday. Tents up. Bags down. Bed.

IMG_6744_CR2
Morning walk in to the climbs on Sunshine Wall.

IMG_6748_CR2

IMG_6751_CR2
Restricted access

The climbing in Vantage is predominately located on the basalt columns that make up the cliff faces, giving a huge selection of arête and crack routes, with some good rock faces in between. On Saturday, we focused our efforts on Sunshine Wall, ticking off a few of the classic single pitch routes, and one very enjoyable multi pitch route with an amazing view.

IMG_6768_CR2
Victor belaying on the first route of the day

IMG_6776_CR2

VGan-140315-08399
Leading the first pitch (photograph by Victor Gan)
IMG_6786_CR2
Sunshine Wall lives up to its name

IMG_6783_CR2

VGan-140315-08481-Edit
Time out to take in the surroundings (photograph by Victor Gan)

Climbing, like many things, had been put on the back burner while I was getting ready to move to Canada, and this was my first day on the rock since last summer. I am far from a good climber, but climbing can reward all equally. Once the underlying nerves and fear can be controlled, climbing gifts you with the opportunity to focus solely on the action at hand, remove distractions, and to reset from the loops that your mind can get stuck in during day to day life. And when all the swearing and scraping is done, it feels pretty epic to get to the top too.

The day ended like all good camping days should, with a big feed, a social fire, and a warm sleeping bag.

IMG_6732_CR2
Stars emerge
IMG_6849_CR2
Harmony in camp

IMG_6843_CR2

Saturday night was not without incident, the stillness punctuated with occasional distant but powerful booms, which we learned later were from artillery testing  taking place in the region. We had our own pyrotechnics closer to hand, with what appeared to be a very sizeable gas canister  explosion in another group’s camp. After a pause, the sound of hysterical drunken laughter drifting through the smoke assured us that all was well.

Sunday morning started as Saturday finished, with beautiful sunshine. Stocking up on vitamin D, and with a plan to hit the road at noon, we headed out early to a rock section overlooking our camp, known as the Feathers. In the more laid back atmosphere of a Sunday morning, we worked our way through three or four short but technical routes, and soaked up as much of the desert ambience as we could before we had to load up, and head out.

IMG_6860_CR2
Climbing in the morning sun
Last move on the last route

This trip was my first to  the United States (apart from flight stopovers). A combination of striking surroundings, friendly locals, and some exciting climbing, made it memorable, and left me with a positive impression, despite the reminders coming from the sounds in the distance. More importantly, it achieved the goal I hope for the most when I travel. I felt like I was somewhere completely different.

IMG_6898_CR2
Approaching the Columbia river crossing on the way out