i received this wild story from tony a few weeks ago, thought i would share! hope you enjoy as much as i did!

"it ain’t about high grades, just two old farts having fun..." - Tony

Email from Italy

From: Tony and TomSent: Tue 6/09/2010 09.30am
To: Old Codgers Climbing Group
Subject: Just another day on the crag…..

Hi All,

Now in Scotland, having a lovely time, wish you were here. The Dolomites are sensational, more rock than you can poke a stick at... and accessible too, apart from the queues on the popular routes. But they can still bite your bum as we found out, nearly to our cost.

You know accidents can be made up of small incidents - like the gaming machine, 3 lemons means you have hit the jackpot and are in deep shite.....


Lemon 1. Late start, lovely hot day, long-ish walk up to the Mariakante pinnacle . The climb wasn’t supposed to be too hard but at 3000m, the air is a bit thin and everything takes more effort. Tom had selected the climb with his usual cunning, neat climbing finishing at the téléphérique for a beer and a quick ride home, as befitted a pair of pensioners.

Too hot really but there was only a young Italian couple just in front of us so we relaxed in the sun. Didn’t realise they were a lemon. Actually, they were a bit of a number, young, beautiful, all colour coordinated, red helmets, red jackets, even red socks and a red rope – lovely - and with helmet microphones too.

By pitch 5 though, a long committing traverse, they were clearly going way too slow, lots of “tight rope” or the Italian equivalent and histrionics from the girl when it got too hard.

Tom was getting twitchy... “They are too frigging slow, the cloud is building, get past them before we get frigging benighted”.


Lemon 2.   Suddenly, on pitch 6, gale force winds hit, tearing through the notch connecting us to the next part of the climb. So strong it started to blow large rocks down on us, triggering continuous stone fall down the gully and across the next traverse. Hmm - how to climb very, very fast....
The Italian couple were caught in all this and desperately climbed up to shelter where they could while we went up to the left, away from the danger. They hunkered down and we took the lead, as you do. A Russian roulette traverse through the stones, past a couple of bomber threads, then an exposed belay right out on the arête.


Lemon 3. The rain/hail arrived, to add to the wind and thick cloud. Communications now difficult, waterfalls to dodge as well as rocks... sigh.
Helmet microphones shorted out apparently, given the amount of shouting behind us in the storm.
Met up with 3 young Germans at the top of pitch 8, soaked and going hypo as no waterproofs. Racing now for the last easier pitches to the top, up a chimney, with minimal pro and wet rock. Lovely, so Tasmanian....


Lemon 4. Did I say 3 lemons? A sudden scream below us tearing though the wind at top of pitch 9. Shite.

A quick reverse to find the big German lad had pulled an absolutely massive block onto his arm, jamming it in the crack, him swinging off it. So in the rain, gale, etc etc we tugged and shoved and pulled and somehow, eventually, prised the rock off enough to wriggle his arm out and he fell out onto the rope to moan quietly to himself. A minor miracle, the arm wasn’t broken, probably because of the size of his fleshy bicep but the crush injury was nasty.

We retreated upwards in chaotic confusion..... the cable car passed literally just a few metres above us, the guard gesticulating out the window the last car down would leave in “ fünf minuten” so we are desperate to get on it. 5 mins left for last 2 scrambly pitches.

Lemons all over the place now..... Germans hypothermic, quivering in the wind and stumbling, us not much better but at least still functioning as a team, miles of rope in a snarl of wet knitting, sleet, hail, loose rock and roaring wind, the injured lad shaking with shock but climbing surprisingly strongly with the help of a tight rope and an occasional push but still moaning quietly to himself.

Tom shot off up to the station, climbing over the safety barriers to “persuade” the cable car guard to wait: just standing in the door and growling quietly but menacingly at him proved to be sufficient.

Two mins later, suddenly, game over...

Quiet, warm, dry, safe, and we are winging down to the pass in the last cabin of the day. High fives and hugs from the relieved Germans as they left to get the lad to hospital. Back at camp, lots of wine and food and hot showers. Life is sweet.

Got away with it – again...... .

Tony 

PS And the young Italian couple? No idea, they were still below us somewhere in the storm....

PPS BTW, the sudden change in the weather was apparently due to a sudden “turbulent instability” over the Atlantic. Hmmm.... snowed all the next day. Don’t you love Alpine climbing?

PPPS Helmets with vents let in rain

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