Day One was rain, wind, and thick fog obscuring most things around us. Quite creepy when you’re heading up an empty unfamilar mountain. Not knowing precisly where you are, ( Cookie pretty much knew) or how far there is to go, and the uncertainty of any challenges or dangers ahead, can make you feel pretty uneasy. Especially when you’re up a slippy slope a few thousand metres up in the snow and it’s a complete white out! It’s been all excitment so far.
Then we heard the Avalanche.
If you’ve never heard the sound of a (very) nearby mountain collapsing – let me tell you, it sure puts the underwear at risk of a good wash. Especially when you’re looking up into the biblically terrifying, unseen sound coming out of the white foggy space ahead. I was clinging on to a snow slope like … like I’m not sure what – Someone who’s absolutely shitting it!
But it all turned out well in the end. We turned back and had an emergency beer on the grassey ridge below. Then went to the pub and drank! .. And drank some more.
Heard 14 more Avalanches. Before we got to the bottom.