Climb4Concern | BaldFeet

I need to be at the airport in a little over 12 hours. I feel terribly under-prepared.

from http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aconcagua#mediaviewer/File:Aconcagua_SouthSummit2007.jpg

Aconcagua is in Argentina. It’s the highest mountain in South America at 6,962 metres (22,840 feet). It’s a three week expedition with 17 days on the mountain. And it’s going to be tough.

When I was on Kilimanjaro a few years ago, one of the girls in the group told me about her plans to climb Aconcagua. I had never heard of it, so I told her she was wrong. I’m very annoying like that. I assumed that I would know the name of the highest mountain outside of the Himalayas, so I was sure that she had made the mistake, not me. I was an idiot. Just to prove how much of an idiot I was, she’s coming on the trip, to remind me regularly that occasionally I make a complete knob of myself.

I signed up for this trip in December 2013 after meeting an organic greengrocer in The Hairy Lemon for a few mid week after-work pints. We decided to go with an Irish tour group, Earth’s Edge, because left to ourselves, we can’t even organise a training hike in Wicklow without ending up in a pub. (In our defense, his girlfriend wanted to try the Johnny Foxes seafood chowder) We figured that with 13 months preparation time, everyone would be super fit and prepared by now. Instead, in the past 48 hours, I’ve visited four outdoor gear shops buying last minute bits and pieces, I’m probably not going to need. I borrowed a 120 litre duffle bag (thanks JK!), which maximises the amount of unnecessary gadgetry I can bring. A few months ago, I spent €22 on a pen that writes even in the cold and wet. Then I lost it, so today I bought another one – you know, to document my deep and meaningful thoughts when I’m in a tent, it’s minus 25 degrees outside, I’m struggling to catch my breath, my pee bottle is full, and neither I nor my tentmate has washed in 10 days. That’s when I will need a pen – to take detailed notes. I expect “I’m f###ing freezing” will feature a lot. I’m in serious danger of making a knob of myself again.

Training hike in the Burren — The team walking away from me on a training hike in the Burren

Unlike most of my trips, I know the entire team for this trip in advance. Rather than meeting most for the first time at the airport. Two of my Kilimanjaro buddies, two fellow Climb4Concern guides, the doctor from my Elbrus trip, the doctor from my Kenya trip, and a vet in case the doctors give up on me. Eleven of us in all and we’ll meet a few local guides from Inka Expediciones when we get there. I’m bringing a pack of cards, so I can play solitaire if nobody likes me.

I can think of a good few challenges trekking up a mountain like this. The altitude, the cold, the gear, the lack of personal hygiene, the lack of personal space. At the summit, there is 43% of the oxygen available at sea level*, so everything is a lot more tiring than usual. On Kilimanjaro, I saw a girl get herself out of breath just putting her hair in a ponytail at 4,645m. Luckily, I haven’t had to worry about ponytails since 1995, so I should be fine.

At the moment, the temperature on the summit of Aconcagua is -26 degrees (-15 F)**. That’s pretty cold. If/when we get there, we won’t be spending very long there, but even at base camp (4,370m), the weather can vary from +25 degrees to -7 over the course of a day. So we need to be prepared for it all. That’s a lot of t-shirts to carry.

We have mules to carry all our heavy gear up as far as base camp, but from there on, we’re carrying our own gear (clothes, food, tents, sleeping and cooking gear). All up, it’s expected to weigh about 20kg. Above basecamp it is too cold and the oxygen is too thin for the mules to survive, so we go without them, which seems a little crazier every time I think about. A couple of people have pointed out that the pack will progressively get lighter as we eat through the food, but unfortunately, as everything freezes, you’re required to bring all waste (yes, ALL waste) down with you again. This prevents the four thousand or so people who attempt it each year leaving a collection over very personal frozen momentos behind. For that reason, a few of my friends have christened this Adventure on Poo Mountain. I need better friends.

If nobody likes me, I will take a lot of selfies like this one.

A friend of mine was with a different expedition on Aconcagua last week, but had to come down due to suffering from HAPE***. She’s fine now and is busy drinking wine and eating steak in Mendoza, but it was a little bit of a reminder that there’s a fair chance that something is going to prevent us getting to the summit. Since getting turned around on Elbrus in July, I’ve been reminding myself that even if we do everything right, the weather could be against us. I’ve made contingency plans though – but as I don’t eat steak, I intend to drink extra wine. Lots and lots of extra wine.

I don’t know how much internet or phone signal I’m going to have over the next few weeks, so I can’t promise to keep BaldfFeet updated. Earth’s Edge should be posting their own updates on our progress on Facebook, and I’ll get status checks out when I can.

I’ll try not to make a knob of myself too often while I’m away.

Cheers,

Dermot

Down Jacket — Making a knob of myself with my very warm heavy down jacket

*source: http://www.altitude.org/air_pressure.php
** source: This is after taking chill factor into account. http://www.mountain-forecast.com/peaks/Aconcagua/forecasts/6962
*** HAPE = High Altitude Pulmonary Endema, it’s fierce nasty.

On Saturday 8^th February, twelve walkers set out from Bohernabreena (near Tallaght in Dublin) to walk 45 kilometres over the mountains to Glenmalure Lodge in Wicklow. I started to write a long piece about the Continuity Art O’Neill Challenge to accompany the article in the Wicklow Times. After four hundred words, I hadn’t reached us actually coming up with the idea, let alone the organisation and walk itself. So, instead, here are some of the highlights:

While in the taxi towards the rendezvous point, one of our walkers got lost on a straight road, panicked and called me. It was not an auspicious start.

We started walking at 6.30am. It was windy, raining and pretty horrible. The lady in the taxi depot thought we were taking the piss.

The first leg included a diversion from the official Art O’Neill route. When I had checked the detour out the week before, my path had been blocked by a dead horse. It was Friday 31^st January, the first day of the Chinese year of the horse. Let’s hope that wasn’t an omen.

Approaching Checkpoint 1, we had to manoeuvre around various groups of wild looking cattle which were blocking the roads. They had big horns and looked angry. We shouted and waved our hands. We won.

Despite the weather and the cattle, we covered the first 16km leg about 45 minutes quicker than expected. This meant we had to wait in the cold to rendezvous with our guide. While waiting we watched another cow who was looking nervous after being cut off from the herd by our presence.

Crossing one of the muddy streams on Billy Byrne’s Gap, one of the lads got his boot stuck in the mud. When he tried to pull it out, the boot stayed put so his sock landed in the wet and get soaked. Rather than changing into dry socks then, he immediately plunged the wet sock into the dry boot to ensure discomfort for the rest of the day. Ha ha.

I had a drop box waiting at Checkpoint 2 with a few goodies for everybody. I had brought enough water, jellies, chocolate and tissues for fifteen people. The first thing everybody grabbed for was the little packets of tissues. All the chocolate and jellies were eaten. Nobody bothered with the water. I still have 13 litres of Lidl Spring Water in my car if anyone is thirsty?

The emergency drop box also contained two Christmas puddings which had been going cheap in the January sales. The cold weather had made them shrivel and shrink into a sort of hard frozen lump. I still liked them, but I have one of those left over too.

After walking with us the first 25km, one of the lads took one for the team. He sacrificed himself and his walk to make sure we got a good table in the pub and hitchhiked the rest of the way. He was picked up by a man with a jeep and two rifles in the back seat.
“Are you a hunter or a killer?” asked our hero, meekly.
“You’re not one of the damn Art O’Neill bastards who is ruining the countryside, are you?” responded the armed man in an angry voice.
“Oh bugger”, said our hero to himself, as quietly as he could.

The last leg of the trek took longer than expected, so that it was approaching nightfall when we reached the track system which leads to the pub. I found the discarded leg of a deer on the path, which is an odd thing to find when there is no three-legged deer nearby.

Some of us hitched the final few kilometres to the lodge, rather than walk along the winding road in the dark and rain. I took a lift with some more deer hunters. They had no more space in the front, so I sat in the trailer, with two beheaded deer staring at me and blood sloshing about it on the bottom of the trailer.

As I got out of the truck at the pub, the man who had beheaded the two deer and had a truck dripping with blood, told me he might join me for a multi-day mountain climb in the near future. That should be fun.

We were met in the pub by a representative of the Glen of Imaal Mountain Rescue team to accept the small donation that our walkers had put together to thank our guide for preventing us from having to call the Glen of Imaal Mountain Rescue team.

Thank you and well done to everyone who took part!