Tim January 22nd, 2008

December 14th 2007

 

Surreal Light

Click on images for full size

As the day progressed, the weather made a change for the better from the moodiness of the morning. Now with the sky breaking and leaving holes of light streaming down on to the landscape below, the drama was unfolding. We were ready with cameras in hand despite the frosty winds coming from the bow. Port Lockroy was a bit too moody for us photographically. We were looking forward to some photogenic moments beaming from the sky and we were not to be disappointed.

Neumayer Channel

Solitary Drift

It took a few hours of cruising before coming to the next destination of Orne Harbour. Guarding the mouth of the harbour, is the relatively small Spigot Peak. We see the impressive dog tooth promontory from Polar Star the icebreaker as we entered the harbour. Sheer cliffs are descend from summit to coast line unabated by any horizontal planes what so ever. Yes, that peak looked to be a challenge, perfect for an afternoon jaunt. I just hoped that the weather was going to continue to improve so that we might get a clear, uninhibited view from the top. The plan, for those who are keen on getting a little way off the water line and feel up to the challenge of a moderately steep snow slope, is to ascend the less dramatic back side. We would be guided by one of the ships mountaineering staff, Florian Piper leading the way with more of the ships outdoor guides bringing up the rear.

Spigot Peak

As we entered the harbour the dramatic scenery unfolded before us, with the clouds parting as if on cue for our arrival, bringing forth vistas unseen by us from such a close proximity. On the opposite shore from Spigot peak, the Arctowski mountain range vaulted straight from the water to unknown heights. With such a grand presence we stopped our conversations to take it all in. The clouds and spindrift are swirling over and around the massive summit, partially veiling the impressive massif from view.

Mount Arctowski

Arctowski Summit

Summit Mood

"Things are looking up" I am thinking, the hike looks like it might be a go, with blue sky opening up and raising the temperatures to the point of peeling a layer or two of clothes off.

Getting a chance to see from a higher vantage point with surroundings like this, created a deep anticipation within me. A familiar sensation, something I have felt before every adventure that posed possible dangers of the unknown, a mixture of fear, curiosity and challenge. This will be a new peak for all of us. It was a suggestion by Florian to try going for the top not long before arriving here. I guess he had been eyeing this one peak on previous excursions to this harbour.

Orne Harbour

The further we ventured into the caldera shaped bay the more the surrounding peaks opened themselves up to our evermore engaged eyes. Mist, shadow and brilliant light, all of it changing with the rapid movement of the winds still blowing in from the strait. Everywhere you looked things changed to new and ever more impressive visages. The power of this landscape has not diminished at all, despite our being here already close to a week. I wanted to see more and more and was not looking forward to heading home just yet.

Hidden Peak

Orne Harbour, Spigot Peak on the left

Again the anchor went down with the now familiar clanking of steel chain deep into unknown depths close to shore. The water was so clear it seemed bottomless, with a inviting azure blue beaconing us to come and explore. I chose to try for the summit of Spigot Peak, while Debbie considered the photo options available from the water level vantage point. She wanted to get shots of some of the seals spied by some of us upon entering the harbour. I wished her luck and with a kiss, hopped onto the zodiac bound for shore and a mountain adventure. I had bought a basic type of crampons for just this type of mountain slopes and was happy to feel that my foot steps would be all the more secure on the steep slopes of the back side. Having been on a few mountains before, I had some Idea of what was in store terrain wise. As we progressed across the bay I looked down at my fellow trekker’s footwear and then up at the ensuing slopes and was just a bit concerned. All of them were wearing various types of rubber boots, some insulated, some not. What concerned me somewhat was that rubber boots are great for getting on and off of zodiacs but on snow laden talus strewn slopes of a moderately steep nature it seemed a bit dicey. I could tell most of these folks hadn’t been on many mountain slopes and had no real idea how serious a misstep could be with such minimal gear. I chose not to think of the potential unrestricted 150 meter glissade over sharp rocks back down to the bottom shore. Instead I focused on the potential sights to be had in the very near future once we get close to the summit.

Florian Piper,     Mountain Guide

I am on the last zodiac and at the rear of the boat when disembarking on to shore. Needless to say this put me in the rear of the procession looking upward at close to 30 trekkers bound for the top. It was slow going, one step then wait a minute, then a few more steps and so on, slowly ascending the snow and rock strewn slope heading for the saddle between two peaks, one of which is Spigot peak. The slowness of the procession made me think of the pace that climbing Everest would have been like but in that case more due to the lacking of oxygen than slippery rubber boots. I was glad that they were taking their time really. This allowed me plenty of time to look around and zip off lots of shots during the slog skyward. Amazingly as we gazed up we could discern the familiar toddling of penguins, 200 meters above us! I am wondering why are they all the way up there? It looked windy and colder then many other seemingly more habitable spots closer to their food source on the oceans shore. WOW, these guys are something else. Mountain penguins! Well, I guess not many predators are going to hike that slope to get a meal.

Summit Bound

As we switch back and forth the saddle comes nearer, bringing thoughts of what the other side is going to look like from that vaulted vantage point. The views to the rear, over the bay are becoming ever clearer as the clouds diminish and our horizons expand over the encompassing mountain peaks in the distance. I am more breathless from the view then from the slow plod as I take in the vista. The Polar Star an icebreaker is looking more like a reddish spot nearer the distant shore then a ship able to hold 150 passengers. It is surrounded by comparatively large icebergs jockeying for space around the hull, sometimes grinding their way along the sides with a growling type sound, hence the name "growler" for that size of iceberg.

Growler  iceberg

Summit Bound II

As we ascended the snow steps to the saddle the slope abated somewhat making things easier. The view from the ridge is only minutes away. I guess the view has always been a big motivator for me, no matter how many summits I complete. The view from a summit allows for a unique perspective and only to those that choose to make the effort to get there. Almost an exclusive club of our own making, this creates camaraderie, a common experience to be had with the other fellow trekkers and mountaineers.

Hurry Up!

Cruz n’ Talus

Almost there

Upon reaching the saddle, I realized that there is a storm approaching from the far side with ominous black lines scouring the olive green ocean below. From my small experience at sea, I recognized this as high winds coming our way. How high, I was not sure until some minutes later. With some caution I proceeded along the saddle ridge heading for the upper slopes. Most of the trekkers were already high above me on a talus slope nearing the summit. Looking behind me I perceived more dark gray clouds ascending over the distant ridge heading in our direction. While situated in a fairly exposed area looking down on both sides the wind hit, knocking me down on to my knees while I am shielding both Nikon cameras with my hands. The blast of wind continued unabated for 5 minutes convincing me that maybe it was a good time to head back as it was hard to even stand.  I wasn’t alone. A few of the other members just in front of me were convinced that maybe this wasn’t the best day to be up here either. Fortunately the majority of us were higher up and on a lea slope not experiencing the full blast of the winds that we had and were unaware how strong the squall was. They continued on eventually to reach the summit. This is one of those points in life that we all experience, where you see that you are in a crossroads situation. You are the only one that can make the decision to head back down to safety, or add a bit of risk to achieve unknown sights and challenges. In the past I had always been one to put risk aside and push on with too many freaky stories to regale as a result. Well age being the better part of wisdom, I choose to head back down and watch what happens from below.

Storm Front

As I turned around, I went over the logic of my decision, including the sentiment that I would never likely get the chance to see this again. Maybe I was being hasty in my turning around. These are all thoughts that assail me, thoughts that I usually dismiss. I was adamant that I was not going to regret this downward decision and that I wouldn’t dwell on it later. I only hope that the others won’t be getting into a situation over their head as the clouds and wind approach and that they make it back to the ship intact. 

 

Mountain Rookery

Minutes before the oncoming squall I had the chance to marvel at the Chinstrap Penguins lodged on pebble nests at close to 200 meters above the ocean below. The rookery composed of 200 plus penguins hung perilously on the edge of the long slope back in the direction from which we had come. I had to wonder why they choose to nest this far up? It seems a huge effort on their part.

Approaching Squall and nesting penguins

Chinstrap Penguins on summit ridge

Arctowski Summit

Arctowski Point

While heading back down I take some time to capture some of the moody drama created by the oncoming squall on the far mountain slopes. The descent being fairly easy, I was on shore waiting for the coming zodiac occasionally looking upwards to see how things were working out for the rest of the group. As it turns out the squall ended up being violent for the first wave of wind and then abating to the point of blue skies opening up not long after. Seeing this was tough and I tried not to chide myself with regret. At least I got to shoot a few shots of the fortunate ones on the top looking over the distant sights with awe.

Summit Team on Spigot Peak

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• Tim Schumm