Adventure She
Adventure She magazine, Issue 11, September 2020
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Empower Educate Entertain
Featuring Rock climbing Mount Kenya Swimming Europe to Asia Cambodia’s Killing Fields Skiing the Haute Route Cycling Bolivia and lots more
Issue11, September 2020 www.adventureshe.com
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Adventure She magazine, Issue 11, September 2020
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Welcome From Our Editor and ensuring the right person is entrusted with the delegated work. Rather than take charge of logistics for a mammoth experience, one Suzanne hopes will take her to the Seven Summits and both Poles, Suzanne’s delegating logistics to the experienced Rolfe Oostra. For Suzanne, climbing Mount Kenya with Rolfe and the local Kenyan guides, was a two way interview, an interview partly conducted whilst rock climbing at altitude.
Welcome to the September 2020, the 11th issue of Adventure She magazine. What a year this is turning into. As the last issue got uploaded, I was really hoping the world was starting to return to normal. Alas, it doesn’t look like we’ve seen the back of Coronavirus or Covid 19, to give its more accurate name.
If you’ve even wondered about rock climbing, Mikaela Toczek article about the joy of climbing and what she gets out of it by introducing others to climbing, is the one for you. Or, perhaps it’s ski touring you’ve set your sights on for this winter. Our cover person this month is Abbi Naylor, who writes about her experience ski touring on one of the world’s most classic ski tours, the Haute Route, and the role leadership styles had on her adventure. Philippa Ball Lewis is another who writes about winter, this time though it’s about hiking in winter. Why is this article important? It’s because Phillipa reminds us both how easy it can be to get into a bad habit, and also, how when we put in the initial effort, we can overcome bad habits and instead make the most of the whole year, not just part of the year.
Another big topic of the moment is leadership, and how leaders from all fields, whether politics, medicine, business, tourism, or some other field, have been dealing with this crisis. It made me think, what about us, what sort of leaders are we in our own sphere of influence. So you guessed it, the theme for this issue is leadership. We’ve stories covering lots of different types of situations, including when a style of leadership leads to demonstrations, riots and water cannons, as Caroline Powell found in South America, to the consequences of when leadership becomes extremely tyrannical, as with the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia. Bea Meitiner sharing how visiting Cambodia has changed her life. Cambodia’s Angkor Wat was fortunately not too badly impacted by the Khmer Rouge’s reign of terror and is the subject of our UNESCO feature.
Some people see a BMI higher than the recommended range as limiting. Not so Catherine Wallis, who shows us how whatever our size, there are adventures and challenges out there for all of us. It’s all about finding out what motivates us and pursuing that goal. In other words, being our own leader, deciding upon a goal, setting a vision and working to achieve those, regardless of what others think or say. After all, who’s life are we living, our own, or theirs?
Like Bea Meitiner, another who’s recently taken charge of her life, and yes we think taking charge of one’s own life definitely qualifies as leadership, is Suzanne Turner. Part of being a good leader though is knowing when to delegate responsibility a lifetime of body 2
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For others, ill health can be a limiting factor. Not so for obstacle and adventure racer Deanna Blegg, who’s the recipient of this quarter’s What A Woman award. She has achieved so much, both before and after being diagnosed with breast cancer, it was difficult knowing what to include, as in, what facts could potentially best help one or more of you who are out there and reading this magazine. Another of my heroine’s is Pip Hare, who I interviewed last year (see the June 2019 issue for that article). Pip is about to head off on one of the most gruelling challenges in the world, the Vendee Globe, sailing single handed, nonstop, around the world. 9 year old Bethany Adams has been lucky enough to interview Pip and I am thrilled she agreed to share her experience of interviewing Pip. As for Pip, surely she will soon become front page news as the race sets sail in November and hopefully for all the right reason, her belief, her hard work, her focus, her tenacity and her leadership, for she’s really showing the rest of us how to go and seize our own dreams. Events like the Vendee Globe need someone to set them up. So what type of person makes a successful race / event organiser. Last year I was fortunate enough to interview Catherine Poletti, cofounder of UTMB, probably the world’s greatest trail running festival. Apart from this year (another Coronavirus casualty) thanks to Catherine and her co-founders, thousands of competitors descend upon
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Chamonix during the last week of August for a trail running festival like no other. You will have to wait until the December issue to read my interview with Catherine, but I do hope you enjoy my article on what it was like to be with the press pack at last year’s UTMB. As well as book reviews, there’s one other article, a Q&A with Kat Owens. You may recall Kat’s article about living in India with her family, whilst doing research work. This time Cat shares invaluable advice with us on how to apply for a Fulbright scholarship. I really hope Cat’s very kind and comprehensive tips will help some of you, should you ever wish to apply for a scholarship or study grant. Remember, if you know someone with a story to share, regardless of their location, colour, religion, or experience, please do tell them about the magazine, and get them to message us via the contact page on our website www.adventureshe.com . Happy reading everyone, I really hope you find this issue to be empowering, educating and entertaining.
Jane
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Adventure She is published by TNA Consulting Services Ltd, the address of the registered of which can be obtained from Companies House. The entire contents are protected by copyright and all rights are reserved. Reproduction without prior permission is forbidden. Every care is taken in compiling the contents of the magazine, but the publishers assume no responsibility in the effect arising therefrom, Readers are advised to seek professional advice before acting on any information which is contained in the magazine. Neither TNA Consulting Services Ltd nor Adventure She magazine accept any liability for 3 TNA Consulting Services Ltd. All Rights Reserved. andpictures used, or claims made. Copyright © 2020 views expressed,
From The
Adventure She magazine, Issue 11, September 2020
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In This Issue Of Adventure She Magazine Page 22 – Climbing Mount Kenya
Page 6 – Dodging Riots In South America
Page 42 Cambodia’s Killing Fields
Page 53 – UNESCO Feature, Angkor Wat
Page 58 –Interview with Pip Hare
Page 66 – Tips On Applying For A Fulbright Scholarship
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Page78 –
More
Lessons From On High - The Haute Route
Page 76 – Book Reviews
Page 94 – Part 2 of UTMB Race Week
Page 92 – Ski mountaineering Q&A with Abbi Naylor
Page 124 – The Joy of Climbing
Page 118- What A Woman – Deanna Blegg
Page 130 - Walking Into Winter
Page 136 – Swimming From Europe To Asia
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Dodging Riots In South America By Caroline Powell
Photographs by Caroline Powell and Noel Waterston
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Caroline Powell had a long held dream to cycle the length of South America. Having cycle toured across the Pyrenees, the length of the Alps and New Zealand’s South Island, she was used to cycle touring. All she needed was the time off from work and family commitments. Finally in 2019 Caroline and her partner managed to carve out 10 weeks for just themselves. It wasn’t long enough to cycle the whole of South America, but it was long enough to cycle Lima Peru, to Santiago Chile, via Bolivia. In fact, Bolivia was where Caroline had set her heart on exploring in depth. Caroline studied maps at home with her partner, studied maps at coffee shops with a friend and studied maps at London’s legendary travel book and map shop - Stamfords. Her planning was impeccable. She even identified what she considered to be their biggest potential challenge - how to negotiate the hectic sprawling capital of La Paz and its sister city El Alto, on their heavily laden bicycles, especially given the 4000m altitude. What could possibly go wrong?
The calm before the storm
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2015. So after the ravages of camping in the middle of nowhere when there was simply zero accommodation options anywhere en route, plus some rather rough and basic accommodation in Peru (you should have seen the electrical wiring next to the bathroom!), we booked ourselves in for three nights of relative luxury at a rather smart hotel. We pottered about the town, took some photographs then lounged on our balcony overlooking the azure blue waters of Lake Titicaca, though our usual clothes washing line was strung up behind us. This was the life.
weeks into our journey, on Thursday November 14th, 2019 we cycled across the border from Peru into Bolivia at the tiny village called ‘Yugan / Yungayo’.
At the small checkpoints on either side of the boarder our passports were diligently stamped by each country’s pleasant and smiling officials. Beforehand, we’d wondered if having bikes, would involve our having to hand over money, but no. Jokingly we expressed our delight at such an easy entry into Bolivia.
Rumblings
From there it was a short 8km cycle to the lakeside resort town of Copacabana. I knew this town, for I’d been there as recently as
We walked to dinner at another hotel where we’d arranged to meet up with a cyclist from 8
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the USA, whom we’d met in Peru. There we chatted away as you do. But instead of the usual conversation, ours also included an additional topic, the situation in Bolivia, for our new friend relayed his hotel owner’s news – Evo Morales, who’d been Bolivia’s President until a couple of days earlier when he’d resigned, had fled to and sought political asylum in Mexico.
In this case Morales had fled following concerns over the fairness of the elections held on 20 October 2019 and subsequent and increasing protests. Morales is of the Aymara people, one of groups of people indigenous to Bolivia. He was also the first indigenous person to be president of Bolivia. It seemed to us that Morales being indigenous, was adding an extra element to tensions in the country, for were the indigenous people seeing their elected president (albeit independent bodies declared the elections to have irregularities), as being the victim of a racist coup, with a Caucasian replacing one of their own? Would this fuel the demonstrations that were now flaring up in the country?
It’s never a good sign for travellers when a president or a recently resigned president, flees and seeks political asylum elsewhere. For what causes a president to act in that way? What troubles are there behind the scenes? Or were the troubles far closer to the surface?
Cycling through Peru
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Copacabana, Bolivia
We talked about the situation and agreed it was best to detour around La Paz, which as far as we could then make out, seemed to be the epicentre of the demonstrations. Because of La Paz’s busy roads. skipping it, was fine by us, even if together with Sucre, it’s one of Bolivia’s two capital cities.
Now what? Which would be the more sensible option? To race for the border, or to risk being stranded in Bolivia? What if we stayed and we couldn’t get any cash from ATMs? What if we ran out of food and couldn’t buy any? What about my dream to cycle the length of South America? I’d already changed my plan from doing it in one stint, to doing it in stages. Plus Bolivia was one of the places I really truly wanted to explore. Was my dream going to be snatched away from me?
The warning As soon as we returned to our hotel we received a What’s App message from our friend. The German owner of his hotel had told him to leave Bolivia right away, as the borders were shutting at 7am.
We talked it over. My attitude is more laid back than my partner’s. I examined our situation. We were in a nice place and in no imminent danger. Why not stay here as 10
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planned for three nights and see how the situation developed? We decided to stay. So instead of packing and racing for the border before it closed at supposedly 7am, we slept.
Copacobana they were taking a taxi to the border. This they figured was their best chance of getting out of Bolivia, for they had heard of insurrections in most cities further south and even had an app showing which roads were blocked and where protests were gathering pace. The sheer number of insurrections further south, meant that despite having been far closer to Chile than Peru, they’d little chance of making it to Chile. Hence their run north across Bolivia, north to Peru.
Flight Copacabana is a tourist destination. A few years earlier the place had been buzzing with travellers. But at breakfast, apart from Noel and I, the only other guests were a German couple. Seeing us they immediately came over and regaled us with their story. They had caught a plane from further south in Bolivia to Las Paz, then yesterday, got one of the last buses from La Paz to here. From
After regaling us with their story the Germans took off, leaving us as the sole remaining guests.
Basilica of Our Lady of Copacabana
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As we ate, what for two hungry touring cyclists was a rather sparse breakfast, the hotel manager came over. She explained we should also leave, as they’d all been asked to join the local march in support of Morales (Copacabana being situated in one of regions of Bolivia with high representation of indigenous people). There was no more time for discussion, we needed to make a dash for Peru. We needed to pack and fast. So fast, whilst loading his bike with four paniers, Noel’s bike fell over. A bracket attaching the saddle to the frame broke. Thank goodness for our supply of duct tape. We rode for the border, the reverse of our previous day’s ride. This time, instead of riding with eagerness at the joy of entering Bolivia so easily, I rode with a sense that my ‘dream cycle ride’ was being shattered. Why we were doing this was brought back to mind when after a few kilometres, we cycled into a roadblock. The blockage took the form of a tree across the road. Beside it, stood a crowd of locals. What now? We took our chances and waved at them as we cycled around the tree. Less than 24 hours after arriving in Bolivia we were back at the border crossing. This time instead of smiling officials, there was a crowd of locals. We noticed one other traveller. He pointed us towards the direction of a building. We hammered on the locked door. A Bolivian customs man appeared in response to our hammering. He asked for our passports. In the moments it took for us to retrieve them from our bikes, the door had closed. Again we hammered. This time, the door opened a few inches, just enough for us to hand him our passports and get stamped out of the country. We couldn’t help but wonder how that customs official felt that day? After all, he was a representative of the government, and outside, stood a pro Morales crowd.
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Lake Titicaca
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Was he scared? The locked door seemed to indicate so.
taking a bus, was an anathema to me. I had dreamt of making this journey for decades and my intention had always been to cycle the whole length of the route. How could I possibly take a bus?
Once safely in Peru our we hit the road and cycled for we had more than 80 miles before we reached the outskirts of Puno where a couple of hotels were situated on the shores of Lake Titicaca.
The following day and now back in Puno proper, we poured over maps and guidebooks. We could be purists and cycle mammoth distances on sometimes busy roads in scorching heat, or we could save ourselves a lot of time and energy, take a bus and use that extra time to explore national parks of volcanoes and lakes in Northern Chile.
We were still cycling 12 hours later when darkness fell. To cap it all my partner’s saddle finally snapped off as we walked up a dusty track to one of the hotels we had spied when cycling to Bolivia. At least though unlike one cyclist we met during our travels, we didn’t get stuck in La Paz for two weeks, so things could have been worse.
Who knew, perhaps by then we might even be able to re-enter Bolivia, this time from the south, and still experience the Salar de Uyuni.
Re-grouping Now we were safe again, with no risk of being caught up in riots or potentially worse, our thoughts returned to how to make the most of the time we had left. I so wanted to cycle across Bolivia’s salts flats, the Salar de Uyuni, in the south of the country, but how to get there? Time was against us now that the direct route through Bolivia was for now closed to us. We couldn’t tell when the border would reopen, nor when roads would be free of blockades and traffic allowed through.
We took a bus.
Crossing into Chile It felt good to be back on the bikes as we cycled the short 25 miles from the southern Peruvian town of Tacna to the border with Chile. What we hadn’t expected, was for this border crossing to be tougher than our entry and exit from Bolivia. Chile takes its fruit industry seriously. We only discovered this at the border, with sniffer dogs and xray machines checking bags for fruit. We’d both already stuffed two bananas each (precious cycle fuel in our luggage) when the x-ray found a stray orange at the bottom of one of my paniers, an orange which I’d totally forgotten. We then spent one hour with a delightful official registering every minute detail about our bikes on a computer. He gave us a copy, instructed us to carry the paperwork with us at all times and explained we’d need to produce it on exiting Chile.
We didn’t have time to see everything and cycle the long way to Chile through Peru, which would also have involved a lot of backtracking. The thought of ‘cheating’, by
“Was my dream going to be snatched away from me?”
This last requirement was to ensure we hadn’t sold our bikes at a profit! That was a joke, our bikes are over 20 years old, battered, well used and with very limited saleable value but immense personal value to us. 14
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A totora reed boat, called a balsa, made by the Uros people of Lake Titicaca
Under siege
Strolling along the main pedestrian shopping street we were in shock. Graffiti covered the metal shuttered shops. Slogans were daubed on banks and large corporations. There was even evidence of tyre burning at traffic junctions.
12 miles later we cycled into the dusty sprawling port of Arica, complete with a proud cliff top war memorial and the largest national flag we’ve ever seen. .Imagine ur alarm on learning from information office staff, that it would be difficult to get any cash from the banks, as the city was under a state of tesWe had in fact been following the news and Foreign and Commonwealth Office’s advice to British people, about civil unrest in Chile. But we hadn’t expected to be greeted with this on our first day and straight after being ejected from Bolivia!
This far north in Chile darkness came early. As it approached a sense of anticipation seemed to grow all around us. At first people gathered in a peaceful manner. But by mid evening noisy groups rushed through the city streets. Not just in Arica either, for this situation was repeated as we progressed further south through Chile’s coastal cities, Antofagasta, La Serena, and on to Santiago.
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We were here in South America not just to cycle from A to B as fast as we could, but to also explore. We wanted to learn more and part of that meant going to museums, galleries and botanical gardens. But again both in Arica and the other towns and cities, they were shut. Staff we came across explained to us that the protests and rioting were a cause of concern, so government run establishments were closed.
Calama, a city in the middle of the Atacama Desert. Our first job was to reassemble our bikes. Then we went in search of coffee and breakfast. Finding a place for coffee and breakfast however proved to be harder than we’d anticipated. What we encountered was deserted streets, boarded up shops, shut hotels and restaurants, plus the stench of burnt rubber and piles of rubbish at crossroads.
Towards the salt flats Now we’d already taken one bus, we focused our energy on cycling in wonderful scenic places, and on occasion took a bus rather than cycle a long, boring, busy section of road. That’s how we arrived ended up being deposited by the side of the road, at 5am, in
Finally down a side road, we spotted an open corner shop. The owner gestured us to enter with our bikes and explained the previous night’s riots had resulted in scared owners shutting up shop.
The salt flats of the Salar de Uyuni (visited via Chile)
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Santiago
road signs making it difficult for us to follow directions and locate places, to seeing statues in the parks daubed with graffiti and caricatures of the politicians.
After cycling 3000 miles during our trip, of which the 2000 miles was in the first month before our trip hit the demonstrations and riots, our final day’s cycle had us peddling for 12 hours from tranquil wine growing area of Casablanca to Santiago. This city, which in the past has been a total haven for many travellers, a place where travellers could replenish anything and everything, was alas in a very fragile state. We were met by water cannons and the stench of teargas in the central Plaza Italia. National monuments were desecrated, public buildings were barricaded, and peaceful demonstrations flared up into violent conflict at the end of the day.
We really hoped that in a year’s time, when we hoped to return for more cycling adventures in South America, the tensions, riots and difficulties of 2019 would be resolved. Little did we know then the tensions and problems 2020 would have in store, not just for Bolivia and Chile, but for the whole world.
Whilst I never felt personally threatened, it was a disappointment to see a grand city being torn to shreds, from hacked off metal
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About Caroline Powell Caroline Powell has been cycle touring for decades. She found a way to cycle tour in Cuba way back in 2000, before cycling Cuba became a “thing”. She’d ridden the length of both the Alps and the Pyrenees and has won both the women’s veteran category and the veteran team category at the Brompton Bike World Championship on numerous occasions. About the only thing she doesn’t do, is social media.
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10 Tips For Cycle Touring 1. Cycle lots before your trip, it'll help get you in shape. 2. Do some two or three day rides beforehand. It’ll help your body adapt to multiple days in the saddle. Far better in advance, that suffer until your body gets used to the effort. 3. Practice with your kit, so you know it’s works and fits. 4. Practice packing your panniers before you head off. It'll help ensure you don't accidentally overpack and will hopefully mean you don't forget anything important. 5. Practice riding with panniers, so you know what it's like, as the extra weight of full panniers will make your bike react differently. 6. Always make sure you have spare room for extra water and lots of snacks. Cycling is thirsty and hungry work. 7. Remember to take enough of a puncture repair kit and spare inner tubes, especially if using inner tubes of a size different to the norm. 8. Learn to carry out basic repairs and to be adept at fixing punctures and changing inner tubes. 9. Research the climate and prevailing wind. A tail wind can make for a far easier trip than a nasty tail wind. 10. Research the quality of the road surface and amount of traffic. There’s some wonderful cycling in this world, but there’s also places which well, might be best to avoid, whether for pollution, or traffic levels.
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How does the saying go, “Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars.” ― Norman Vincent Peale Exploring space takes teamwork, whether it’s the astronauts, the engineers, or the cleaners who wipe down floor at control headquarters. Successful teams need more than good teammates, they also need a leader who knows how to lead that team. Suzanne Turner has her own high end mission. Not the moon, or the stars, but the Adventurers’ Grand Slam (also called the Explorers’ Grand Slam), which involves climbing the 7 highest mountains in Africa, Antarctica, Asia, Australasia Oceania, Europe, North America and South America, plus skiing the last degree to both the North Pole and the South Pole. We think you’ll agree that is one mammoth goal. So how do you turn a mammoth goal into reality? In Suzanne’s own words “I considered doing all the planning & logistics myself but decided I didn’t yet have the necessary expedition planning expertise.” So Suzanne’s done what all good leaders do, she’s brought in a team who she believes, can help her achieve her goal. Besides, what with training, social media, press enquiries, fund raising, plus her own regular life and work, delegating planning and logistics for expeditions to places like the South Pole, the North Pole and Mount Everest, sounds pretty sensible to us. But great credentials don’t always lead to a harmonious team? Do you test out a new team for the first time in a place like the frozen Arctic on route to the North Pole? Or do you test it out on a gentler trip, though a trip that still a day of high risk and high adrenaline? Enter Mount Kenya.
my training process for the Explorers Grand Slam as I knew the climbing peaks would challenge me.
M
ount Kenya is the second highest mountain in Africa and one I have wanted to climb since first seeing a photo of it in 2016. The highest point Batian, which stands proudly at 5199m, is surrounded by many satellite peaks including Nelion 5,188m and Point Lenana 4,985m. Those peaks provide a challenge for every level of mountain experience and ability, for whilst you can hike to Point Lenana, you need climbing skills for Nelion and Batian. I wanted to make climbing Mount Kenya part of
I considered doing all the planning and logistics myself but decided to bring on board some expedition planning expertise. So climbing Mount Kenya wasn’t for me going to be just about the climb, it was also a two way interview, between me and expedition leader Rolfe Oostra, as Rolfe and his company were going to work with me to help make my Adventurers’ Grand Slam happen.
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In addition to us two, there were six others, three of my friends – Liselotte, Marie and Steve – plus Bill, Mark and Danny who we met on day one. We had two objectives for the expedition. Firstly, the whole group would aim to reach the highest trekking peak of Point Lenana at 4985m. Rolfe, Liselotte, Steve and I would then aim for the technical climb to summit Batian via Nelion.
There are three main trekking routes up to Point Lenana. At the Chogoria Gate 2950m above sea level we had our first glimpse of Mount Kenya’s peaks and most importantly, met our local support crew. Our trekking guides were Ken, Jacob and Sam and they were backed up by a team of porters & cooks
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‘pole pole’ (pronounced polay polay) – ‘slowly slowly’ – as we ascended to our first camp at the beautiful Lake Ellis. Pole pole is also necessary, for ascending too fast can lead to the onset of altitude sickness. Arriving at Lake Ellis 3,600m, we found not just that our tents were already up, but that tea and popcorn was waiting for us in the dining area. What a wonderful welcome. The welcome continued into the night, as somewhere outside our camp the ‘welcoming’ calls of wild animals rang out. The next morning, Jacob told us they were the calls of hyena up in the surrounding high ground. It felt like a real privilege, an honour, to have heard those hyenas.
who looked after us in every way possible, always with a cheery ‘Jambo’, a smile and a laugh - even the guy who was responsible for the camp portaloo! As we hiked through grassy plains and cool woodland, one of our local guides - Sam introduced us to sweet smelling wild herbs. The distinctive scent of the lemongrass quickly made its way to number one on my aroma chart! Later, on exiting the woodland, it felt like we’d been transported to another world, for a vast blackened wilderness opened in front of us. This was the result of a huge fire that had swept across the area a few years previously, leaving destroyed remains of the forest in its wake. The charred remains of trees were still very apparent, yet there were also the positive signs of new regeneration with thick grass, plants and trees now starting to grow once more. The path we were walking was a new one, built after the fire.
Day two of our trek took us from Lake Ellis at 3500m to Lake Michaelson at 4000m via a challenging ridge. We were surrounded in every direction by the most incredible views stretching as far as the eye could see. I was just starting to appreciate the incredible size and majesty of Mount Kenya.
It was a hot day and all of us were more than happy to follow the Kenyan philosophy of 26
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On an expedition filled with breath taking moments, reaching the high point above Lake Michaelson Gorge was one of the most incredible of all. Standing on the top of the cliffs looking across this vast amphitheatre, with the inviting waters of the lake below us left me feeling a little insignificant and utterly speechless. We could now clearly see the peaks we were aiming for. Despite still being a full day’s trek away, the sheer scale of Batian loomed in the distance. A scramble down a steep track from the cliff tops found us at the most spectacular camp spot I have ever been to, on the shores of the lake and surrounded by the towering cliffs of the gorge. We were now at 4000m for the night having hiked even higher during the day, following the maxim of climb high sleep low (sleeping at an altitude lower than what you’ve been at during the day, in an attempt to minimise the potential for altitude sickness, which can be fatal). That evening, we were told the story of an old leopard who had lived round the lake for years, his hunting ability reduced by age though he was still able to live on the easy pickings of the native rock hyrax. These days he is long gone but hyrax is plentiful, scampering happily, and probably more safely, about in the rocks behind our camp. Our destination for day 4 was an Austrian hut at 4750m. This was the toughest day so far, starting with following the river upstream out of the gorge into another vast open bowl. 30
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The terrain constantly changed, becoming rockier and ever more barren, as the altitude increased. Ahead of us we could see Point Lenana, Nelion and Batian, and on their steep slopes, the tiny figures of our porters slowly making their way up to camp. This would also be our path… and it was just as steep a slog up the winding path, as it had seemed from a distance. Here there was no need to be reminded to go ‘pole pole’, for here ‘pole pole’ was the only pace possible. Another stunning view then one more effort, a 400m traverse across a scree slope around the base of Point Lenana, and I was enjoying tea and popcorn at our camp by the Austrian Hut, whilst marvelling at the location. By this point, all three of our target peaks were towering above us. Point Lenana to our right, Nelion and Batian to our left, with the camp nestled in the rocks at their base. Lewis Glacier flows to the base between the peaks, but sadly, at the rate it is disappearing it won’t be too many years before it is gone completely. Wondering about and not far from the camp I came upon a wooden cross set in a cairn of stones: a memorial to a fallen climber and a sobering reminder to be respectful of the mountain environment I was in. Would Mount Kenya allow me to stand on her summit? Would I be capable of the climb ahead? I would find out over the next forty-eight hours. Day five was an early wake up for a pre-dawn start up to Point Lenana. In the dark we began 31
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picking our way up the rock strewn path. All I could see by the light of my head torch was the track under my feet, the back of my friend Steve directly in front of me and the torches of the guides bobbing up ahead. The path wasn’t that steep, but it did have a few more ‘scrambly’ sections. Much of it had a good solid wire handrail which as well as a confidence boost where needed, was useful in the dark!.
I was slightly surprised, disappointed, even a bit deflated, to have made that final, terrifying scramble only to find our small group having to share the summit with around twenty others (who’d come up from the opposite side). I suppose I had become used to us having the mountain to ourselves up to that point. Having said this, elation and gratitude at having made it to this point quickly set in. To be sharing it with friends and the rest of the team was extra special.
The mood was upbeat, I was excited & I couldn’t wait to witness the dawn rise from the summit of Point Lenana. I just knew it was going to be spectacular. After just half an hour of scrambling upwards, we were scaling the world’s highest Via Ferratta ladder up the final rock hurdle to the summit of Point Lenana at 4985m, to be greeted by the waking dawn.
Mount Kenya is just over 10 miles south of the equator. Being so close to the equator, dawn doesn’t last long. Within half an hour we went from complete darkness to full daylight and with that daylight we were honoured with clear-cut views of our next day’s climbing objective on the other side of the glacier, the towering twin peaks of Nelion and Batian. Seeing them there, it struck me
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how the sheer, solid wall, could easily become rather daunting. I had to keep reminding myself that it would be tackled one step at a time – pole pole.
dark. That’s when our climbing guides, David and Joseph, joined us. Thirty minutes later we set off by head torch for the base of the climb.
That night, I didn’t sleep much. Perhaps it was the altitude, perhaps the thought of what lay ahead. What would the technical climb up the South East face of Mount Kenya up to Nelion be like? What would the crossing across the Gates of Mist glacier to continue to the summit of Batian be like? What would the descent with numerous abseils be like? Would the altitude prevent any of us from achieving our goals? What about the weather?
The scrabbly route isn’t marked, so how David and Joseph knew the way in the dark, I have no idea. It really is testament to their knowledge and experience on the mountain. It was a tough start to a long day but after an hour of scrambling we got to the base of the rock face, which loomed almost 400m above us. The excitement was palpable as under a now shining sun we prepared for the rock climb ahead. One of my friends, Liselotte and our leader Rolfe, roped up guide Joseph. My other friend, Steve and I roped up with our other climbing guide, David.
5am the remaining foursome of us climbers (the trekkers started their descent after reaching their goal of Point Lenana yesterday) were up in for a breakfast in the
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The rock was amazing to climb on. Grippy and similar to granite, with great holds and ledges to use, but also pretty vertical with some exposed moves that require full concentration! But, particularly in the early pitches of the climb, there was a lot of loose rock, so I had to be really mindful of as it would have been very easy to send it bouncing down the face with your feet… not pleasant for anyone below.
When we reached the ridge, we had a break at Baillie’s Bivvy and watched the other team make their way up the next section to the crux, or most tricky part, of the route. The clouds were starting to roll in below us, obscuring the view across to Point Lenana and much of the route we had already covered. We were in a race against the weather but at that moment, we were steeped sunshine. Off we set again.
We climbed continuously. If I wasn’t climbing, I was belaying for David. I soon fully understood why everything I’d researched about the climb put so much emphasis on endurance fitness. In vertical height, the South East face is about 400m but in reality, the climbing route is around 600-700m, as you don’t go straight up. This was my first experience of technical climbing at high altitude and despite sweating out every orifice, I was loving it!
Technically, this climb was the most difficult part, yet I absolutely loved this section. It was a puzzle to figure out each move, but when I found just the right place for my feet, each piece of the puzzle fell into place and each move was unlocked one at a time. It was exhilarating. That section was followed by an easy scramble and suddenly, without warning, I was joining the rest of the team on the rocky peak of Nelion. What a feeling! It had taken us seven hours from leaving camp, but the morning had flown by. We were
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surrounded by the most magnificent views across Kenya. There were celebratory hugs and high fives all round as we marvelled at our achievement.
drove at us. On several of the pitches we couldn’t see the bottom, and I could only watch the person ahead of me disappear into the cloud then wait for their shout so that I could set off. I can’t say I was ever scared as such because I was so focussed on the task in hand, but I was very aware of the potential danger to any of us if that focus and concentration dipped for even a second. As we descended we eventually began to come out of the cloud again and conditions improved. Finally on reaching the base of the wall, we could savour that sense of relief to have made it down. We still had a long way to go through the boulder field and down the path that would take us to Mackinder’s Camp where we would sleep that night, but at least we were off the wall.
Unfortunately, the weather was now closing in, with thunder rolling around us and the clouds streaming in thick & fast, so we had to abandon the idea of continuing on our quest to summit both peaks. From where we stood, Batian seemed so close, yet in reality it would take us a few more hours. Those hours were one’s the weather wasn’t going to give us, so after half an hour on Nelion’s summit we began the 15 pitches of abseiling back down. Of course, it was disappointing not to attempt to summit Batian, yet as we were soon abseiling in thick cloud & rain which turned into hail & sleet, this was definitely the right decision. The abseil was unpleasant and exhausting due to the concentration required to make each pitch safely, especially as the temperature dropped & the rain and hail
That walk out felt endless. I remember the final steep scree slope with a switchback path winding its way down the slope. Our trekking guide Sam had met us on his way down from
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Up on Mount Kenya we’d been ‘off grid’. We’d had six days of us and the mountain. No internet and no access to the outside world. In those six days everything changed in the world, for it was March 2020 and in those six days, Coronavirus seemed to have turned everything topsy turvy.
the Austrian Hut and was behind me. I think that was the hardest part of the whole week because I was totally wiped out, physically and mentally drained, just putting one foot in front of the other and trying not to fall over! At 6pm I trudged into camp, feeling like a zombie but still incredibly happy and grateful to see our local crew again. Our wonderful cooks had yet another fantastic meal ready for us, but I was so tired I could barely eat anything and so crawled into my sleeping bag and was out like a light!
I knew it would be a challenging expedition, but it was so much more than I imagined or hoped for and better in every way imaginable. There were plenty of ‘out the comfort zone’ moments for sure, yet I had loved every moment of it. It was hard going, I was pushed to my limits, and I went beyond them. Mount Kenya may not be quite as high or as popular as her sister, Kilimanjaro, but she is no less challenging or spectacular. This is an expedition well worth putting on your adventure bucket list.
It’s amazing what a good night’s sleep can do. The next morning I felt refreshed again, the sun was shining, and we were heading down to re-join the rest of the team. Looking back at the views of the summits it was hard to comprehend that we had been stood up there just yesterday. We had breakfast and left camp, following the Naro Moru route for our descent. This side of the mountain was very different from the side we came up, much greener and wetter underfoot, with more bird life. As we entered the rainforest, the temperature gradually crept up, as did the humidity (and the rain!). By the time we reached our pick-up point at the Met Station it was absolutely pouring down, so we took shelter until our vehicles arrived. What a welcome sight they were for our tired bodies! Sitting in the trucks was quite strange, as we gradually returned to civilisation. Houses, farms & buffalo whizzed by on either side of us as we sped through the foothills. With a brief stop to sign out of the National Park, we left Mount Kenya behind us, heading for Naro Moru Lodge. This was our opportunity to give our thanks to the guides, porters, cooks & all the team who had worked so hard to look after us on the mountain they love. They had been absolutely incredible. They’d carried all the kit, equipment and food. They’d helped make our experience a positive and enjoyable one. They’d done everything with a big smile and friendly attitude. They were definitely a huge part of my experience. It was them, that had made my experience possible.
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About Suzanne Turner Suzanne spent 10 years in the Army where as well as serving in the Royal Military Police, she was introduced to climbing. She gained military outdoor instructor qualifications in skiing, ski touring, climbing and mountaineering. Both prior to and after her Army career, Suzanne had worked with horses, however in 2016 she realised her passion for working with horses had diminished and what she really wanted was to be back in the mountains. She is now an indoor climbing instructor and is working towards her outdoor qualifications, as well as being an Army Cadet Force volunteer instructor. Like many, she has found herself furloughed and having to reassess her path due to lockdown. You can follow Suzanne using the following social media accounts: Facebook:
www.facebook.com/suzanneturneradventure
Instagram:
@suzanneturneradventure
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Cambodia’s Killing Fields By Bea Meitiner To what extent do we allow so called ‘leaders’, leaders that are despots, to lead us astray? What is it about the likes of Hitler, Stalin and Pol Pot, that enabled them to kill so many people, including their own? Bea Meitiner visited Cambodia’s killing fields and here shares with us some harrowing detail about a regime that all too often, we forget to remember. Let us never forget the atrocities of despots, whatever the continent. For if we want to build a more peaceful world, we need to know the past so we can learn from the past as opposed to repeating the mistakes of the past. 42
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here are moments in our life that define us. Events that change the course of everything we thought was right and that steer our path on a completely different journey. A moment of realisation. An epiphany even. For me that happened whist I was perspiring from sweat glands I didn’t even know existed, unfortunate wet patches forming on my trousers as droplets beaded off my forehead, cheeks, nose, lips, chin, neck, back, chest, tummy, arms, hands, bum, thighs, calves and feet! The only time I wasn’t dripping with sweat was at night, whilst I enjoyed the air con. It was during this unflattering and unpleasant state of perspiration that I realised what was missing in my life: gratitude.
I have suffered from depression on and off over the years and I have been through some pretty gloomy periods. I have always blamed events in my childhood for these feelings, yet, seeing the kids in Cambodia, playing in the street with imaginary weapons, with no shoes on and dirty clothes I realised just how lucky I have been. Yes, my childhood was far from perfect, but I had food, I had access to clean water, I had a bed, a house, clothes, shoes, a great education and the building blocks that have allowed me to be whoever I want to be as an adult. These kids do not have that luxury. Their tiny wooden homes, barely larger than my living room, house the parents, the grandparents and all their siblings. Many children must forgo their education so they can work to contribute to the household. Food is scarce, access to clean water even rarer, and when it comes to new clothes and toys, well… they are just for the upper echelon. Yet, despite having so little, they aren’t moping about feeling sorry for themselves. No! They make the most of what they have and share what little they own.
A change of heart I knew only two things about Cambodia before we went. The Instaworthy Angkor Wat and the chilling display of skulls in the Killing Fields. As far as I was concerned Cambodia had nothing more to offer. The little research I did before deciding we should tag this small country on to our Vietnamese trip did not suggest that this was the place that would turn my life on to a completely new trajectory. It was the catalyst to the events that have followed, which have helped me overcome the worst of my mental health challenges and which have cast light on the path I need to go down to live a life worth living.
Cambodia Cambodia remains one of the poorest countries in Asia, with 2.66 million people living for under $1.20 a day. Over 50% of the population is under 25 years old and 37% of the children under 5 suffer from malnutrition. The country is committed to growing but endemic corruption, limited resources, high income inequality and poor job prospects make it a daunting task. Add to that the fact that the country lacks education, particularly out of the city. Not only were many of those educated murdered by the Khmer Rouge regime but the lack of resources and prolonged fighting has meant that many children have not and still don’t have access to schools.
Travelling through Cambodia changed me in ways I never expected it to. I was shocked to learn about the Khmer Rouge regime, recent history I knew nothing about. I was also completely unaware of the unexploded ordnance problem that is still being tackled 40 years after the end of the Vietnamese War. But more than anything, I was humbled by the people I met. The generosity of those who had nothing was astounding, their warmth and friendliness something that is remarked about in every tourist brochure. But really, what struck me was their attitude.
Cambodia is a country that has been torn apart by war and conflict for over 3 decades: first a civil war, then the US bombings, followed by the Khmer Rouge regime and finally the Vietnamese invasion. Anyone over 43
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the age of 22 will have lived during a time of conflict; anybody of my age (34) or above will remember it. The terror isn’t over though. Unexploded ordnance is a real problem across both Vietnam and Cambodia. It is speculated that 5.8 million cluster remnants remain on Cambodian soil in addition to a further 5 million unexploded landmines. A large part of the country remains unsafe, yet villagers have no option but to work the land to feed themselves.
machinery are all at risk of becoming the next victim!
Amongst the ordnance, the plastic landmines are the worst. These were created specifically to injure troops as it would slow down their comrades who would have to help them to safety. As a result of these, Cambodia has 25,000 amputees, the largest per capita in the world! Meanwhile, unexploded ordnance is estimated to have killed over 2 million people, 38% of whom were children. Villagers, children, lifestock, wildlife and
Learning their history
Yet their smile conceals it all, it would be hard to know of the terror and suffering of the country, so good are they at hiding it. Still, unlike me, they don’t have a big house in the countryside, a good job, exotic holidays or outlandish material belongings to make them happy. They have gratitude for what little they have, something I certainly needed to learn.
The reason we visited Phnom Penh was to learn about the atrocities committed between 1975 and 1979 by the Khmer Rouge. In those 4 years over 2 million Cambodians were killed, a quarter of the entire population! Why? Because Pol Pot (leader of the Khmer Rouge, a Communist Party of Kampuchea) wanted to create an agrarian socialist society 44
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to create a completely self-sufficient country. As such, they evacuated all the cities, taking everyone to the countryside to work on the land.
12 of the estimated 20,000 inmates surviving. I think torture or murder chambers is probably much more apt. The buildings have now been turned into the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, but once upon a time, in a former life, they were actually a secondary school. I’m not sure whether laughter will ever be heard again within the walls of this precinct.
The Khmer Rouge arrested, and eventually executed anybody suspected of being linked with the former government or with foreign governments; those linked to Buddhism or Christianity; those of a different ethnicity; professionals and intellectuals for fear of them being able to “think for themselves” and therefore cause trouble; anybody linked with the suspects (family and friends) was also executed, even children and babies. Pol Pot’s motto was: “Best to kill an innocent than miss someone guilty!”.
Prisoners were tortured 2-3 times a day. The aim? To get a confession, any confession, whether that might be that they had links to the CIA, were spies of the former government or had done something wrong, perhaps stolen a mango from the courtyard tree. By gaining a confession to one of these crimes, false or not, it meant they could document it and therefore legitimately kill them.
S-21 Prison Both prisoners and guards had very specific rules on how to behave during torture. Some of these included:
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You must answer according to my questions. Don’t turn them away.
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You must immediately answer my questions without wasting time to reflect.
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While getting lashes or electrification you must not cry at all.
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Do nothing, sit still and wait for my orders. If there is no order keep quiet.
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When I ask you to do something, you must do it right away without protesting.
The guards also had strict rules on how to torture. I can’t recall them all but here are the main ones: •
Do not derive pleasure from torture.
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Do not take your mood out on the prisoner.
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Under no circumstances should you allow the prisoner to die without a confession.
If a prisoner were to die during torture before a confession was attained, it is likely the torturer would also be executed. The torture methods they described were hideous, from removing teeth and finger nails, to water boarding; from cutting people open and inserting millipedes in to the wounds, to hanging them until they fainted and then waking them up by inserting their head in a bucket full of faeces. If I’m honest I blocked the majority, they were that disturbing!
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Although those were the designated torture methods, the overall existence within S-21 was also one of suffering.
completely unaware of what lay ahead. Music would play to drown the screams of those dying. Many weren’t even killed properly, left in the grave barely alive awaiting a slow agonising death.
It is not surprising that prisoners made up confessions. Execution was certainly a more favourable outcome to torture and life in S-21. An Australian prisoner tried to use his confession to alert the world that all was not right in Cambodia. He had been sailing round the world when his boat had been damaged in a storm forcing him to moor on the coastline of Cambodia. In his confession he gave the names of his commanding officers within the CIA. One of them was Colonel Saunders from Kentucky (KFC), others were equally outrageous celebrity names that the Khmer Guards could not identify but that he hoped any Western country would.
One of the particularly brutal scenes was a burial site containing predominantly babies. These would be picked up by the legs, swung around so that their heads would collide against a nearby tree. When the site was finally discovered the tree was covered in blood and brain matter. The tree is now adorned with bracelets and tear-jerking letters and notes that passing tourists have left in memory of the devastating loss. Both S-21 and Choong Ek did a really good job of delivering a very heartfelt but factual account on the atrocities that happened in Cambodia between 1975 and 1979. I find it so hard to believe that in the modern age these mass murders could be justified, and even worse, that humankind hasn’t learnt from these atrocities as different cultures continue to kill en-mass to achieve their beliefs.
Unfortunately, these confessions were found too late for him and too late for the 2 million others who died during the Khmer Rouge regime. Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum was gruelling; however the Killing Fields were even worse.
Walking amongst the graves you are reminded of the reality as a bone protrudes from the ground, or the remains of a flowery garment reaches the surface. Despite these being collected every 3 months, they will continue to surface for years to come as a harsh reminder of what lies beneath the soil. I said it after visiting Auschwitz and I will say it again after a very gruelling day here, everybody should visit at least one of these locations. We must never forget what our species is capable of!
The Killing Fields of Choeung Ek Choeung Ek is one of 300 killing fields found in Cambodia and the site of 129 mass graves where over 17,000 men, women and children were executed as part of Pol Pot’s plans to develop an agrarian socialist society. This is where those who confessed to their fake crimes at S-21 came to be executed. To begin with a truck load carrying 30-50 prisoners would arrive 2-3 times a month. The prisoners would be checked in, blindfolded, and led to their burial site. Not wanting to waste bullets or make noise the prisoners would be brutally murdered by clubbing them round the head with whatever instrument they had available. As the regime was coming to an end and the pressure was mounting on the Khmer Rouge, two or three truckloads carrying 100 or more prisoners started arriving daily. After being checked in, prisoners would be placed in a waiting “room”
The visit finished at the memorial, a large Buddhist Stupa displaying over 5,000 skulls. A stupa is a Buddhist commemorative monument usually housing sacred relics. In this case the skulls and bones of the victims. That is an image I will never forget. Visiting S21 and Cheuong Ek was a very sobering experience, but also a very worrying one. How is it that the graves were discovered in 1980 yet Pol Pot was still allowed a seat in the UN for a further 10 years after? 48
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The long journey onwards
shadow of the house offered some shelter from the scorching sun.
Our journey from the killing fields of Phnom Penh to Siem Reap and Angkor Wat was a long one. After leaving the city we travelled for miles through the dry Cambodian countryside. The ground was cracked from lack of water, the sun beating down on the grassless expanse, the houses on stilts hinting at a different season that we weren’t seeing.
We stopped off in Kampong Khleang, a small fishing village on the shores of Tonle Sap lake. Tonle Sap is Cambodia’s greatest natural resource and the largest freshwater lake in South East Asia. It is also more importantly the principal source of fish for the country. Although rich in fauna and flora, life on the shores is not easy with water levels varying by up to 40 ft between the dry and wet season. Villagers have opted for two styles of houses: on high stilts or on buoyance aids. Looking at the steep ladders leading into the home I couldn’t help but think how complicated even the simplest of tasks must be (example, carrying their groceries in!).
During the wet season Cambodia is prone to heavy rain and flooding which is why all homes are built on stilts. During the dry season though, the underside of the house becomes a multipurpose space, somewhere to dry clothes, relax on a hammock, raise animals. Large windows (and lots of them) encouraged air flow during the stifling hot months although many families had moved downstairs, into the open air where the
We arrived whilst the kids were on recess, running around bare foot in the red dirt, 49
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uniforms getting progressively dirtier as they played, loud shouts of hello echoing as they shot past us. These were the lucky kids whose parents could spare them from the home thus allowing them to get an education. As we walked further into the village, we came across those kids who weren’t so lucky. Needed at home to look after their younger siblings whilst their parents worked, cleaning the house, doing the washing and changing nappies even if they themselves might not be much older than 9 years old.
budget and had good reviews. However, as we were brought our free cocktails and cold towels I couldn’t help but ponder over the inequality in the world and about the privileges that we enjoy in the Western Europe. It was during the days that followed, when we continued to be met with amazing generosity as we explored Siem Reap and the breathtaking Angkor Wat, that I realised I had so much to learn from the Cambodians. You don’t need all the riches in the world to be happy. In fact, I’m sure there is actually some form of negative correlation that shows the more you have the unhappier you are.
As we passed one of the houses a group of kids were playing with their make-believe guns (sticks). We were obviously intruders crossing the enemy line as they jumped out of their not so subtle hiding place to shoot us whilst shouting “bye bye”. As I pretended to have been hit, they laughed and ran up to us to high five us. They may have had no shoes and may have been wearing old dirty and torn clothes, but their smiles were priceless. The enjoyment they were getting out of those sticks beat any thrill you could ever get from an Xbox. That was imagination at its purest.
Cambodia showed me humility, gratitude and resilience. It helped me realise that I should not be defined by my past, and that I shouldn’t always be looking at the future. Instead I should appreciate the now because we only ever live in the present. It made me ask myself, how can I be better and do better? The answer: kindness. Make sure you give back more than you take, that’s how the world becomes a better place, one act of kindness at a time.
Arriving at our posh hotel that evening, after leaving such deprivation, made me feel embarrassed that we were being quite so lavish. It wasn’t that we’d purposefully booked the equivalent of a 5* hotel (it was less than £40 a night after all), it just happened to be in
About Bea Meitiner There is nothing Bea Meitiner enjoys more than meeting new people and learning about new cultures. Travel for Bea isn’t just about seeing amazing sights (although she enjoys that too), it is about broadening her knowledge and understanding of the world and its people, which she thinks helps make her more broad minded, tolerant and grateful for the life she has had. You can follow Bea using the following social media channels. Instagram:
@bea_adventurous_
Website:
https://bea-adventurous.com/
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ngkor Wat was built in the early 12h century as a temple dedicated to the Hindu god Vishnu. It was built during the reign of the Emperor Suryavarman II, who was a Hindu and emperor of the Khmer empire until he died in 1150. Angkor Wat was the political centre of his empire and also the key temple. . Over a quarter of a century after Emperor Suryavarman II’s death, the Khymer’s enemy the Cham, invaded. They were eventually defeated by Jayavarman VII.
The Angkor Archaeological Park site is so large, some recommend exploring it by bicycle.
Jayavarman VII was a Buddist. He was responsible for the construction of the Buddist temple at Bayon, Angor Wat also became a Buddist temple, though its importance declined as the capital moved to Angkor Thom and the Bayon became the state temple. Both are close by and are within the UNESCO 400 square kilometres of the Angkor Archaeological Park.
The name Angkor Wat is a Khmer name. We have seen two translations, one being Capital City (Angkor) Temple (Wat), the other being City of Temples or Temple City, with no reference to the word ‘capital’.
Angkor Wat remained an important site for Buddists, though by the 19th century it was falling into disrepair. In the mid-19th century French born Henri Mouhot wrote eloquently about Angkor Wat. In some circles it was said he had discovered the ruins, but that is inaccurate, as other explorers had also been there and written about the site.
Angkor Wat is famed for its five towers, reaching like locus for the sky. It is of such significance; it even appears on the Cambodian flag.
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The site was much more than temples and government, and is said to have included an university, a hospital, libraries and as pointed out to us by Bea Meitiner, “a complex water system providing running water to its occupants several centuries ago, yet now over 4 million people in Cambodia do not have access to clean water!”
backpackers also having been murdered there around the same time. The increase in numbers is a double edged sword, for as pointed out by UNESCO with respect of Angkor Wat “Tourism represents an enormous economic potential, but it can also generate irreparable destructions of the tangible as well as intangible cultural heritage”.
Efforts have been made to repair the site since the early 20th century. Fortunately neither the early renovation efforts nor the troubles during the reign of the Khmer Rouge, left much of a major negative impact on the architecture.
Wherever we travel in the world (for hopefully there will be a vaccine against Coronavirus one day and we will once again be able to travel) it is worth remembering UNESCO’s words and it is worth asking, how have we helped the long term future of this place and its people, by visiting.
It has been an UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1992. UNESCO considers it to be “one of the most important archaeological sites in South-East Asia” (https://whc.unesco.org/en/list/668/). UNESCO have identified two key pressures on the Angkor Archaeological Park, namely people (over 100,000) living in the park and its location, as being a little over five kilometres from the provincial and tourism hub of Siem Reap. Since becoming an UNESCO World Heritage site in 1992, the number of visitors have increased exponentially from 7,650 in 1993, to according to www.tourismcambodia.com (as reported 17 September 2011) “1,048,158 international tourists …between January and August, a 24.4-percent increase from the 842,873 tourists visiting last year”. By 2013 they were reporting over 2 million in the previous year. The stratospheric rise in these numbers are partially attributable to its location, being close to growth economies like China and Vietnam. But it is also a reflection of the low number of tourists in Cambodia immediately after the end of the genocide of the Khmer Rouge days, which had effectively made Cambodia a no go zone. Even as recently as 1994 a train was stopped, 13 locals killed, 3 westerners were kidnapped and later murdered. We have also heard an unconfirmed report of a second group of
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-industrial city in the world. depicting 57
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Pip Hare and the Vendee Globe By Bethany Adams, age 9
Photo credit Richard Langdon/Ocean Images
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Successful leaders give people opportunities. There’s no point our advocating good leadership practices, unless we implement them ourselves. So here at Adventure She magazine we believe in empowering, educating and entertaining not just our readers, through sharing stories of amazing women, we also believe in giving opportunities to budding writers. One such writer is Bethany Adams, who describes herself as “a 9 year old ordinary school girl, who like most of the world has had their normal life stopped dead in its tracks, spending the last 12 weeks in lockdown at home with my parents and sisters.” We however believe that Bethany is far from “a 9 year old ordinary school girl”. After all, she’s already managed to get an interview with her heroine, solo ocean racing sailor Pip Hare. But rather be stunned into awe, Bethany’s realised that Pip is a normal human being, not some comic book superhero. What we love about Pip is her hard work, her dedication and her mental attitude, which has seen her seize the moment and makes opportunities happen. Those aren’t traits of a comic book heroine, those are her traits, traits we can all work on so that like Pip, we too can try and lead ourselves, so we can live our best possible life. Somehow we think Bethany has those traits too, and well done Bethany. Those of you who subscribed to our 2019 issues will of course already know the name Pip Hare, as there was an in depth interview with her in our June 2019 magazine. Given Pip is about to head off and sail around the world, single handed and nonstop, in the legendary Vendee Globe race, a race which fewer than 100 people have so far managed to finish, we thought it was time to catch up with her again. This time though, it’s 9 year old Bethany who managed to get hold of Pip and interview her.
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I first got in a sailing boat
sailed by myself in small
like everyone, we have had to
when I was just three years
boats. I hope to sail bigger
adapt our daily routines, My
old. Watching my parents sail
boats when I’m a bit older!
club sessions were swapped
and getting to try steering a boat for myself, was really fun and that’s how it all began. Since then I have
Running, sailing and competing is what I live for. Unfortunately, 2020 had a different plan for us all, and
for PE with Joe Wicks every day and running with my Dad, and my best friend and I decided to run a split marathon over 5 days to raise money for one of our local children’s cancer charities. Over the past year the one person who has inspired me the most, to believe in myself and train hard has been Pip Hare. She is a solo ocean sailor who, against all odds and in the face of a global crisis, will be competing this year in the Vendee Globe 2020. The Vendee Globe is a solo, self-supported race around the world. It takes courage,
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perseverance, self-belief and
Sailing is one of the only
matter what, will work
strength.
sports to continue despite the
incredibly hard to achieve it.
global pandemic and Pip’s
She has never given up on her
Pip has been sailing her whole
campaign is an incredibly
dreams no matter how many
life and in a lot of ways she is
exciting test of determination
challenges have got in the way
just like me. Both our families
which I have been lucky
– even a global pandemic!
had boats growing up. We
enough to follow closely. She
both definitely love sport. We
inspires me because she has
I remember watching Pip
both love a challenge. We
set herself a goal and no
compete for the first time at
both are pretty determined – for example when I’m running, sometimes I’ll get a stitch and I just have to power on through. I know Pip has really had to persevere, especially through lockdown, to get to do the Vendee Globe. Pip is a normal, regular woman, but the effort and work she has had to put in over such a long period of time makes her a pretty special individual in my eyes!
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the Three Peaks Yacht
rest when others were
where it was having repairs in
Challenge in 2017. The Three
running. It was so hard, they
the winter.
Peaks is a race which
had to get special permission
combines sailing and running
from the race organisers
Speaking to her in person
between and up the three
before they could enter as a
helped me find out more
tallest mountains in the UK:
team of two. They did it. Her
about what she is really like.
Snowdon in Wales, Scafell
incredible determination to
She told me about everything
Pike in England and Ben
run, sail and compete is one
from sailing through huge
Nevis in Scotland. The race is
that I hope to channel when I
storms to seeing amazing
usually done in teams, with
am older. She really is one of a
wildlife out in the ocean. She
half the group sailing whilst
kind.
has to do everything when she
the runners rest, and the
is at sea by herself – think
runners climbing the peaks
Pip is also one of the kindest
about where she is going, steer
whilst the sailors rest. In 2016
people I have ever met. I have
the boat, think about the
she and four other women
been really lucky to have had
weather, fix things when they
were the first team to finish
the opportunity to interview
break (even herself) and do all
the race, beating all the men.
her several times in recent
of this for weeks and months
That time Pip was in charge of
months. My parents have been
at a time. She told me of times
the boat. Pip runs as well as
helping Pip run her campaign
which really scared her, like
sails and in 2017, Pip being the
and being such a big fan I had
climbing the mast by herself
superhero she is, decided to
to take the opportunity to
whilst out to sea. I think this
take on this challenge with
meet and interview her! It’s
would be scary enough
just one other person. A team
been really fun – especially
anyway, but on her own?! This
of two. They would have to do
doing it in different places – I
really makes me think that I
all the sailing and all the
interviewed her inside her
should take on more things
running. They couldn’t have a
boat and then in the shed
which scare me!
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Bethany with her heroine, ocean racing sailor, Pip Hare, who this November will be competing in the Vendee Globe, a single handed, non-stop race, sailing around the world.
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She has had to learn so many
Not only is Pip a great athlete
jump off and swim to the
skills to be capable of all these
and sailor but she is also really
shore‌ maybe one day I’ll sail
different things which takes
encouraging
solo across an ocean too!
even spent a year in France to
Pip told me when she was my
Pip is currently preparing the
be around other really good
age, her parents owned a little
boat and herself for the
sailors so she would get even
wooden boat. She loved to
Vendee Globe Challenge after
better at what she does. This,
jump off the boat and swim all
months in lockdown. She had
to me, shows amazing
the way to the shore. I am
to work on her own during the
strength to do that away from
really lucky as my family also
lockdown, but she just made
your friends and family.
has a little boat, and I love to
sure she kept chipping away
buckets of commitment. She
Photo credit Richard Langdon/Ocean Images
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at the job, doing little jobs
down in to small, achievable
can channel this spirit and
every day to make progress.
goals so that you can feel like
complete the London
Fitness has been a big focus
you have accomplished
Marathon or fulfil my dream
for her too, to make sure she is
something by the end of every
to become a doctor. I think
in the best possible shape for
week. This way, no matter how
that the lesson we can all learn
the challenge. She’s also been
small the progress, she knows
from Pip is that it doesn’t
preparing herself by doing her
she is moving forward.
matter whether you are 9 or
best to gain weight as this will
45 years old, work hard and
help her strength and
I am one of Pip’s youngest
achieve your goal. Whether
endurance during the race.
supporters but I want my
that goal is sailing, running,
There are just so many things
friends and peers to know the
football or being an artist;
for her to think about, which
one thing that Pip has taught
absolutely anything is possible
definitely makes the whole
me: to follow your dream and
if you keep trying.
campaign even more
to work hard, because you will
impressive! One of Pip’s
get to where you want to be
biggest tips is to break goals
eventually. I hope one day I
About Bethany Adams Prior to Covid-19 she was extremely active. As Bethany puts it “the Prior to Covid-19 she was extremely active. As Bethany puts it “there was no rest in my schedule; I swam 3 times a week, attended the local triathlon club twice a week, did running club, netball, football, and I had been training hard to compete in Junior Triathlons and start the sailing season.“ re was no rest in my schedule; I swam 3 times a week, attended the local triathlon club twice a week, did running club, netball, football, and I had been training hard to compete in Junior Triathlons and start the sailing season.“
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How To Become A Fulbright Scholar
Q&A with Kat Owens 66
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In our June 2020 issue, we shared an article by Kat Owens, about her time working with researchers in India. The topic of her research was rubbish. A popular subject last year, but with Coronavirus dominating the news and single use face masks now littering pavements and parks, a subject many people now appear to have forgotten. We were enthralled by Kat’s research work in India and wondered, how on earth did she manage to do that? After all, Kat is married with three school age children. So how do you move your family half way across the world to a culture so different to your own? Plus, how do you ensure the whole family enjoys the experience? What’s more, how do you get a scholarship that pays for it all? So we asked Kat a lot of questions. Rather than giving us one liner replies, Kat demonstrated her leadership by giving us detailed replies, replies that we hope will help you, should you ever with to apply for a scholarship to work or study abroad, and replies that we hope will also help you think in advance, how would being part of such a program impact any significant other and / or dependents, which you may have.
What's your background?
I consider myself an interdisciplinary scholar, which means I see a lot of value in pulling from different disciplines to understand and (hopefully?) solve problems. I have taught in a political science program at the University of Hartford, Connecticut since 2008, specializing in American and Environmental Policy. Since 2017 I have directed a campus-wide interdisciplinary general education program.
I have bachelor’s degrees in studio art, anthropology and biology. I then completed a master’s program in environmental studies—all of this done at the College of Charleston in South Carolina. Next, I spent about five years in the Netherlands at the University of Twente completing a PhD in Governance and Sustainability.
How did you hear about the Fulbright Scholarship and what is it?
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The Fulbright is a cultural exchange program sponsored by the US government that sends American academics, writers, artists, and education administrators abroad for research, teaching, and creative/artistic work. The Fulbright program also brings professionals from around the world to the US to study, research, and create. I served as a reader on the committee that evaluates student Fulbright applications to the Netherlands for three years. After this experience, I decided to apply to the program. You can learn more about the program here: https://www.cies.org/programs I’d be happy to answer any questions for people interested in learning more about Fulbright.
but instead is buried or burned, each of which has long lasting environmental consequences. In many places around the world, waste infrastructure is not in place—and so the debris accumulates on beaches, on streets, and in communities. It may be buried or burned nearby, immediately resulting in negative consequences for air quality, for example. What fascinates me is that the problem is the same everywhere—we produce something (single use plastics) which are used for a moment but take a lifetime or more to break down. When these materials break down, they never biodegrade.
What led to your applying for the scholarship?
The goal of my work is to collaborate with people in India to collect data about the situation on the ground and use this as a way to help inform local policy-making. More broadly, I want to share the results, so people understand the intricacies of this global environmental problem.
The Fulbright program is well-known in the United States, and as my interest in global marine debris grew, I was looking for funding that could allow me to work on marine debris abroad over an extended period of time. As a working mom, finding the funding that would allow me to travel with my family, was essential. When grantees work abroad for extended periods, the Fulbright program often offers additional support for dependents. It varies by country, but in my case the grant paid for flights for myself and two dependents, provided a stipend, provided a maintenance stipend for living expenses (with an additional stipend for dependents), and tuition for my children.
What was the application process like? The trickiest bit of applying for the Fulbright, in my opinion, is giving yourself enough time to properly plan. For US applicants seeking to work abroad, you apply in late summer for the academic year that starts a year later (in my case, in summer 2017 for the 2018-2019 academic year). I hoped to travel in the spring semester of 2019, which means I was seeking partners on the ground in India nearly two years before I planned to be there.
What project did you want to complete which you could undertake with the scholarship? Having studied water policy since 2003 and marine debris since 2015, I have become increasingly interested in this as a global problem.
After registering in the system, the application includes writing a narrative of about five pages answering questions which vary depending on the country to which you are applying and the project you are describing.
In the United States, this problem looks like it is under control—our trash is thrown “away” and so it is out of sight. It doesn’t disappear,
I was asking to both teach and engage in research and so I answered questions about
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project feasibility, the experiences that had prepared me for the work, how I planned to teach in a new context, and how I planned to share the results. I included a CV and example syllabi from my classes.
our community, then sharing the results with local policymakers. My proposal was to replicate this project in India.
Any tips for others seeking to apply for scholarships and grants?
I find it is really helpful when applying to grants and funding to show that you have the experience to complete the project you propose and that you demonstrate why the work needs to be done in this particular place. In this way, I worked to establish connections with a researcher in India at the University at which I hoped to work. I also made sure to demonstrate (using citations from the literature in my field) that Indian researchers thought this was an important problem and that my work would complement the work already happening there.
I applied to conduct both teaching and research in India—I had completed a project in the United States with my students, collecting scientific data on marine debris in
To be honest, Indian experts do not need me! They are quite capably producing great research in this field. My goal was to show that I had the experience to collaborate on
After filling out and submitting an online application, I waited for months. Just before the end of the calendar year (2017) I learned that my application had made it through the first stage. Several months later, in early 2018, I learned that my project had been funded.
Debris - Kovalam Beach, India, 2019
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addresses the local problem. We shared our results with local policymakers in Kerala, and they have recently implemented additional plastic bans—but this is not a result of our work. Many researchers, activists, scientists, and NGOs have been working on this issue in Kerala for decades. We were hoping simply to raise awareness and provide data about the local conditions.
“To be honest, Indian experts do not need me! They are quite capably producing great research in this field.”
Through funding from National Geographic, I worked with partners from the University of Kerala to host a workshop for teachers and representatives from NGOs to train them on our methods. We hope the idea will spread and that others will collect debris in their communities and share the results with their local stakeholders and policymakers. With support from National Geographic, we are making a video that shows our methods. I’m also collaborating with other National Geographic explorers to host a workshop in Tororo, Uganda, to share our methods there. Plus I am working to secure funding to return to Kerala in the future, ideally with students from my own University. I hope this is the beginning of a long collaborative relationship with the Department of Environmental Science at the University of Kerala.
work that Indian experts thought was meaningful and important. About the project itself, where did you do the work, what was the work, what were the joys, what were the frustrations? How is the project going now, or has it finished, if so, what are the results? The work involved collecting data over six months at a range of sites in Kerala. The goal was to train researchers there on the scientific methods I use and work together to produce baseline data about the local community. I am working with these partners now to publish research in academic journals with our findings.
The joys of the work were definitely making connections and collaborating with researchers in India as well as making many friends in our apartment complex. The frustration mainly comes from feeling helpless in the face of this huge global environmental problem.
What did you personally learn?
We use the analysis of debris to inform local policymakers—because debris can be very different in different places. Some might come from local household use. Or it could be primarily from commercial fishing.
When I think about what I learned, I break it out into what I learned about myself and what I learned in terms of research. What I learned about myself is that even though it is really hard to try something new and to leave your comfort zone, it is worth it. We can find ourselves in a position to avoid discomfort. We forget that discomfort has value.
Knowing more about debris in your community allows you to write policy that
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it—you feel stronger, more confident, and have the opportunity to experience things you would not otherwise experience. I think back to our first night at the hotel in Thiruvananthapuram—we were in a small place along the national highway—we could not leave because we were weeks from being comfortable with traipsing down a busy Indian roadside without sidewalks. There was no outdoor space at the lodgings except for a busy parking lot. The room was small. No matter what we ordered from the café menu, a lukewarm chicken salad sandwich was delivered. My family was tired. We didn’t know where we would be staying for the long term. I had not yet met my future colleagues. We could not order a meal or catch an Uber because we did not yet have an Indian phone. The windows did not close tightly, and the room was permeated with the smell of the exhaust from hundreds of cars and motorcycles below.
I broke down in tears. I thought I had made a terrible mistake, and more importantly—that I had dragged my family into an unsafe and miserable situation. But within 24 hours everything had changed. We got some sleep—always key. We procured an Indian phone, allowing us access to unlimited food and rides. We moved hotels to a place with a full service kitchen and a pool, really important when traveling with kids. Over the next week, we found an amazing flat in a complex full of Indian families with young kids. The kids were registered for an international school where they made good friends. I met what became incredibly supportive colleagues, and I was able to begin my work.
Debris_India Thangassery Harbor, India, 2019
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What about your husband and children, how did they feel about moving to India and what did they do in India?
coastal, and had high education and literacy rates. My children all did well—each found something about the culture to connect with. My oldest son made a lot of friends at school and fell in love with south Indian food. Our middle son took Malayalam lessons, learning the alphabet and some basic phrases, and was quick to point out familiar words on signs and menus. My youngest loves anything to do with fashion and was completely enamoured with Indian women’s style in clothes, makeup, and jewellery. She often returned from playdates with dark kohl eye makeup and new accessories.
When I was planning to apply for the Fulbright I called a family meeting to ask if everyone (my husband and three children who were at the time ages 13, 11, and 5) was game. They all agreed, though I knew that the kids did not really know to what they were agreeing. While my two oldest were born in the Netherlands, they had not travelled abroad since we returned to the US in 2008. I spent a lot of time researching locations in India. I knew that traveling with young children, I would not be comfortable in one of the large cities. I wanted to find a coastal location that had important things like schools and hospitals but was not too densely populated. Kerala appealed to us because it is in many ways a quieter corner of India, was
It was probably most difficult for my husband, who at 6’8” was a bit of an oddity on the streets. He had the most difficulty acclimating to the heat as well. This journey together was possible for an extended period only because he had returned to school and was enrolled in a master’s program. This allowed the flexibility for him to leave the country while remaining in his program and taking independent study credits. About halfway into our stay he was able to join a month-long program in Agroforestry at the University of Kerala. That truly allowed him to pursue his own interests in India, which is important.
“My goal was to show that I had the experience to collaborate on work that Indian experts thought was meaningful and important.”
What did your husband and children learn from the experience? We have talked to our children a lot about the world, but nothing compares to seeing the world first-hand. My husband and I did not have the opportunity to travel abroad until well into our twenties. We wanted our children to have more experience. I think when you know people around the world, you have compassion for people around the world. I do not think Americans get enough opportunities to consider people around the world and their experiences. In Kerala we were somewhat protected from some of the worst poverty in India. In example, we only encountered beggars once or twice during our six months there.
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So, while the family was exposed to some of the reality that many people around the world experience, they have yet to see everything. I hope they take from the experience that the world does not revolve around the United States, the experience of affordable, clean public transportation in Europe, and the way families emphasized academic excellence in India. Now that we have returned to the United States, I am curious to see how the experience will continue to permeate their lives.
“…seeing this problem in India helped me understand that the problem is not waste infrastructure. The problem is our reliance on single-use plastics.”
What about your children's education, how did you handle that? When we compared locations in India, we looked for a town with several school options that allowed for learning in English. For what was ultimately a short period of time, we thought attending a school in another language would be too difficult. My husband and I also knew that we would prefer the kids joined into a school system rather than be home schooled. We wanted them to have that experience and we also felt we would not do well as home schoolteachers. Thiruvananthapuram has an International School as well as private religious-based schools. We communicated with the administrators and teachers of the international school before we came to Kerala and visited the site upon our arrival. It was an excellent program and seemed a good fit for each of our kids. It could accommodate kids of varying ages and both genders, which was also important to us. Our children attend public school in the United States, and so their own schools simply needed confirmation that they were enrolled in another accredited program. The curriculum was not the same, but we felt the entire experience would be enriching. It was—and the school, the students, and their families were all so welcoming.
son’s lessons, for example, all centred on Manchester, England as a case study. That said, we found that every single day was a learning experience about Indian culture and history.
What learnings can you share with the readers in terms of your development, whether academically, or selfdevelopment wise?
Funnily, because the international school was based on the British system, the social studies and history were based on the UK, not India. We would have preferred that the kids learned more about India. Our middle
The most important lesson I learned academically is that no matter how many well-meaning people get involved, we cannot simply “clean up” the world’s marine debris.
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My goal was always to use beach or river clean ups as a tool to inform local policy… but seeing this problem in India helped me understand that the problem is not waste infrastructure. The problem is our reliance on single-use plastics. The best analogy is that of a bathtub—if you walked into your bathroom and saw your bathtub overflowing, would you first grab a towel and start mopping up the water, or would you turn off the tap? The logical answer is of course to turn off the tap… but so much of our dialogue around “solving” the problem of marine debris focuses on mopping the water up off the floor instead of stopping the flow of plastics into our environment. So, while I am still invested in helping local communities learn more about their problem, I am working hard to make my message global.
We learned so much. Every single day was an opportunity to experience new food, history, language, politics, and culture. We visited the world’s largest outdoor bird sculpture, Jatayu. Our neighbors and colleagues introduced us to jackfruit, payasam, spicy south Indian food, and Kerala meals served on banana leaves. They let us know when a local temple would be parading past our apartment with elephants, drums, and giant puppets. We attended the wedding of one of the graduate students in the department, an incredible experience! I was introduced to a new and different work culture—where it was customary to work in the office six days a week, a stark difference from American academic culture, where faculty often work from home and have flexible schedules. I experienced the intricacies of Indian bureaucracy—a system immune to the pleadings of an impatient American. But when I think of our experience, what comes to mind are the people. My work colleagues were under no obligation to take us under their wing, but they did, and it made all the difference. Our neighbors and the families from school welcomed us into their lives and into their WhatsApp group chats. Being welcomed by the people of Kerala made every other experience that much better, it really made it possible for us to feel like a part of the community.
In terms of self-development, I had the chance to test myself in new situations and while it was not always easy, I feel much more confident now about being in a new situation and in sharing my work with new audiences. I also think it is important to shake up one’s regular routine. It reminds you of the possibilities and the opportunities that we sometimes lose sight of when we are busy with our everyday lives.
What did you learn about the people and the culture of where you were staying?
About Kat Owens Katherine (Kat) Owens is a faculty member at the University of Hartford in Connecticut, a National Geographic Explorer, and was a Fulbright Nehru Academic and Professional Excellence Scholar in 2018-2019. She lives in central Connecticut with her partner and three children. Her academic work focuses on marine pollution and civic engagement.
Following Kat on social media Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/katowens2012/
Twitter:
@KO_InsectWrtr
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Kat and her family, India, 2019
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Books Reviews Amazon Woman By Darcy Gaechter Reviewed by Jane Harries Undoubtedly, one of the best books I have read in a long time. This book is so much more than Darcy’s story of being the first women to kayak the Amazon river from source to sea, or in being part of the first group to kayak the river from source to sea (another group rafted a part of it). It’s also a book about Peru and Brazil, a book about the people of those countries, and the challenges faced by remote tribes, when others descend upon them to extract minerals, land, or water. It’s also a book about the choices we make in life and the sheer hard work, dedication and resilience needed, to pull off hard tasks, whether they are kayaking the Amazon or something else in life. It’s also a book about the team and the importance of teamwork, assigning roles so that everyone belongs and plays their part. I loved this book, absolutely adored it. Yes I have kayaked in the past and so I know my way around some kayaking terminology. But please, if you pick up this book in a book shop and happen about a paragraph with kayaking terminology, don’t worry. Simply read it as “that was extremely tough, life threatening, epic, amazing, scary” and you’ll get the gist. Besides, there’s only a few of those paragraphs and they are needed, for it’s some of those challenges that have prevented others from previously achieving 76
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this feat. What Darcy and the others did, is truly monumental. As for her writing, it’s as good as her kayaking. If you have any interest in adventure tales, or the Amazon, or Peru, or indigenous people, or kayaking, or expeditions, or working towards a long term goal, this book is definitely worth reading. On personal note, reading about places like Iquitos, Tabatinga and the Amazon, brought back some wonderful memories, for I was lucky enough to explore them way back in 1992. Thank you so much Darcy for writing this book. Once again, it is undoubtedly, one of the best books I have read in a very long time.
Loo Rolls to Lycra By Caroline Bramwell Reviewed by Jane Harries Imagine living your life around your bowel movements. Imagine living a life of pain, fear and embarrassment. That is the life Caroline Bramwell used to live. Not anymore. In her autobiography wife, mother of two and businesswoman Caroline, shares her story from having to poo behind bushes in public places, to having a permanent ileostomy and turning herself into a triathlete. If there is anyone out there who is feeling physically blue, this book will hopefully inspire you to undertake your own journey. There are so many illnesses out there that can bring us down. But there are also many people out there who are living a jam packed life despite those illnesses and despite a lot of medical intervention. Of course, not everyone might have the desire, time, or physical capability of becoming a triathlete. However there are still lessons in this book for all of us. Lessons we can take to help us live our best life. We may never have the capability, the strength, determination to kayak the Amazon (see opposite book review), but many of us deep down do have the strength, determination and ability to follow Caroline’s lead, into living our best life.
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Lessons From On High -The Haute Route By Abbi Naylor 79
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The Haute Route, (or the High Route or Mountaineers' Route) is a route hiked in summer, and ski toured in winter. It extends from Chamonix in France, to Zermatt in Switzerland. Snowpack, the risk of avalanche, adverse weather, all have to be factored in when making the journey. The route and distances involved can vary substantially, depending on the conditions. The route is tough, particularly in winter, and is not for the faint hearted or, in winter, for anyone other than the most experienced. How tough is it? Abbi Naylor reveals all.
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kiing the Haute Route was something I had read about in a magazine as a teenager; just as the first sparks of adventure were lighting up my imagination and paving the way into my life. What a dream to be able to ski, hike and climb mountains at the same time, in other words, to go ski mountaineering. By my late 20’s, the Haute Route was high on my bucket list. I’d seen photos and videos of this trip - the Alpine vistas, the powder snow, the mountain huts. It seemed epic, a real adventure, and an amazing way to celebrate my 30th birthday, as I could ski, hike and have done a substantial amount of mountaineering. Over time, my husband started to look for kit on eBay and other second hand sites, as our usual skis boots and kit wouldn’t be appropriate, plus we’d extra bits of kit including full avalanche kit, ice axe, helmet, ski boot crampons, ski crampons called Harscheisen and skins. Whilst Will – my husband – and I had done a lot of ski touring in Norway, we knew for this trip, we would need a guide, for this trip would be far bigger than any ski tour we’d done before. So we also researched guides and Will exchanged emails with him about our level of experience before we headed off to Switzerland. 80
A Rude Awakening We arrived in Switzerland eager and excited to meet our guide and spend a shakeout (practice / get to know each other) day with him and the other two members to of the group, John and Sue. John was an absolute gentleman, early 70’s and still fit as a fiddle. In his heyday he’d climbed nearly every alpine peak in Europe. Sue was Scottish and had grown up in the mountains. She was in her 50’s and had ski toured all over the world. The kit and equipment she had was impeccable. She later told us that she owned an outdoor shop in the Nevis range. Within a few hours I felt like I was on the verge of a break down, trying to hold in the tears and not really understanding why I was being shouted out by the guide in, what to me, seemed such an aggressive manner. My kit choice, my kick turns, my pace, all seemed to be reasons for me to be shouted at, or at least that’s what it felt like to me. Instead of savouring what was meant to be an amazing 30th birthday treat, I felt like I’d been sent to some military boot camp. It was exhausting. I had never considered I wouldn’t be good enough. Now after all the shouting my nerves were a wreck, I felt inadequate, I could cry at the drop of a hat and I was having serious doubts about being able to do this
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ski tour. In short, I was emotionally exhausted, and this was only the shakeout day! But there was no time for me to take a breather. Instead with the fear of God having been put into me, that if we didn’t get every kick turn right during the Haute Route we could slip and tumble down a sheer face, Will and I headed off to a steep ski slope to do some extra homework. There we spent hours practising our kick turns. Up the slope we skied. When it was time to change direction, we kick turned. Then uphill we trudged
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again, until the next kick turn, and from there up yet again. Up, kick turn, up, kick turn, up. Then on reaching the top, a quick liberating downhill, before we repeated the process of skiing and kick turning our way back up that slope / mountain. That night I questioned myself. Why was I doing this? It was meant to be a great holiday and a once in a lifetime trip for my 30th! “Will, why are we torturing ourselves? Surely we are not good enough, let’s just go and ski somewhere nice for a week”. We chatted it over, in our room, over
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“I questioned myself. Why was I doing this?” pizza and beer and again back in our room whilst sorting out the 10kg backpack we’d be skiing with and which would house all our stuff for the 6-day tour. We went to bed absolutely shattered. By now we’d accepted three things.
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1. Our experience maybe wasn’t up to standard.
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Day 1 – Argentiere to Trient Hutte
2. We were happy to learn. 3. Whilst the guide may never be our best friend, or have the leadership style we prefer, he was very experienced and would keep us safe and, at the end of the day, on this occasion, that was all that mattered. I closed my eyes for a few hours’ sleep I thought of one sentence, one mantra. I am determined.
Our ski tour started at the top of ski lift high up above Argentiere, on the French side of the Alps. The ski lifts now below us, it was time to ski. Getting off the lift to start the ski was a complete blur, the pace was fast, our guide was asking us to hurry to get in front of the other skiers planning on doing the tour – to this day I still don’t know what benefit being in front of everyone made. I was hoping to breathe in the fresh air and take in the views before starting, maybe even take a 82
couple of cheesy selfies. But that was not the case. Our first task was a descent over the Col du Chardonnet to Glacier D’Argentiere. The first off-piste descent of the trip and not one millimetre of soft snow to be found. It was steep, icy and very rutted. Not one of the four of us felt like we’d skied our best. As for our thighs, they were already burning. Now, straight ahead loomed the Col du Passon. Standing way up at 3028m we needed to skin up the steep, shady icy ascent to the Col. After the previous day I still felt rather raw and
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tender. Negativity kicked in, I thought “I am not sure if I can do this”. Will must have had the same thought. We looked at each other and he squeezed my hand in mutual support and encouragement.
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mantra unless we live by that mantra. Did I really live my mantra, or did I just say it? Do I just say, ‘I am determined’ or do I live ‘I determined?’.
Truth is, I was petrified. I knew this was the point of no return. With that the guide turned and looked at all four of us square on and declared that this was the last time we could drop out, and if any of us was having doubts, to please leave now.
Looking up at the ascent put a cold shiver down my spine. But with the first step a breathed a sigh of relief, we were starting, and my legs started to fire up. With every step and every kick turn we got higher. Yes, the Col was hard, steep and in shadow, but with each successful turn, I gained more confidence.
There is no point in having a mantra, in saying a
The Col seemed to go on forever. Even with the 83
confidence building, the top never seemed to get any closer. We were ascending for well over 3hours without much of a break and barely any water. Then as we neared the top the sun shone a beam of sunshine out over the top of us, it felt almost biblical. Getting to the top of that first Col was a pure joy. There were other teams also on the route, all different ages and different abilities. Some looked to quite unfit, some looked to be Olympians, but we were all doing it. It was great to
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start getting to know other teams and meeting other guides. Alas after the first Col and that brief glimpse of sunshine, the weather turned. As the wind picked up it muffled all other sounds and caused snow to blow into our eyes, making it harder for us to see. Sound and sight and sound, two of our vital senses, simultaneously being attacked. It was very disorienting. The weather wasn’t severe enough to
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bring a premature end to our day, but it did make the day even more exhausting and alas robbed us of glorious views of the mighty Alps.
Day 2 – Trient Hutte to Cabine du Mt-fort
VERY loud snorer. By the early hours I was exhausted and couldn’t take the snoring any longer; I took aim and threw my book at his torso. About 3 minutes later as the snoring crept back, I heard Will take aim and throw I pillow at the snorer’s head.
Sleeping in huts is an art form, with potentially 25 people on large mattresses and bunk beds in one room. That night we discovered one of our group, was a
The wind which had picked up yesterday after the first Col, was still blowing strong. In that biting wind, which made the temperature feel like minus 15, it was hard to get
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moving. Despite covering every inch of my skin, I still felt the wind chill biting at my cheeks. Somehow I knew it was going to be a tough day. First though some fun, for with a 30 minute of downhill ski on snow and terrain that allowed for some nice sweeping turns, I could finally let my hair down and do something I feel I am good at. After the stress of the shakeout day and the first day of our ski tour, it was good having such a
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blissful start to today’s skiing. That’s when the easy bit finished, for now we had to climb up to the super steep Col du Condense. How steep was it? Probably as steep as an upside down ice cream cone. How icy was it? Not quite as solid as the ice in a gin and tonic.
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One slip on a slope like that and you’re tumbling back down the mountain, desperately hoping you come to a natural stop before you hit anything solid like a rock. So before heading off, we strapped on our ski crampons, to make sure we didn’t slip. Wearing ski crampons is a choice of the individual or group. They attach directly to your skis and create a non-slip and grippy base on the ice. However, they can be heavy and quite
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“There is no point in having a mantra, in saying a mantra unless we live by that mantra.”
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cumbersome. Putting them on made me feel like I was on an extreme adventure; this was something I had never tried before in a real scenario. As I clipped them on I instantly felt them bite into the snow. It was a feeling of relief like no other, a sensation that I was safe, as opposed to a fear of sliding down the side of the mountain, never to return. Near the top of the Col we reached a small plateau, a step just big enough for our small team to sit down and relax for a few minutes. It couldn’t be any longer than that, as we could see other teams ascending the route
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towards our location, and they would expect us to move on, so they too could have a breather. Before heading off we needed to rearrange our gear, as the next section was climbing not skiing. First we took off our ski crampons and carefully packed them into our rucksacks, so there was no chance they could fall down the mountain side. Then we took off our skis and attached them to our backpacks. Thirdly we put on our boot crampons which act in the same way as mountaineering boot crampons.
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Roped together we headed off. For the first time in the trip I felt excited instead of daunted. Roping together can be crucial going over Cols as the slope angle becomes even steeper. It means the team as a whole can support each team member. The idea is if one team member slips, the rest of the team hold their position and so the person who’s slipped, can’t slide off the mountain. I felt completely secure. Yesterday had been a test of will and stamina. But I am determined. I want to learn; I want to keep learning and I do keep learning. I felt that by continuing yesterday, I’d shown spirit and determination. I’d been proud of myself for choosing to learn over giving up. Now here on day 2, I realised I was feeling something very different emotion, I was starting to enjoy myself.
Day 3: Mt-Fort Cabine to Arrolla If the weather was good, today was going to be my first Alpine summit. I tentatively looked out the window to see clear blue skies and not much wind. Other teams clearly had the same idea, as our first Col, the Col du Shoe, was busy. This actually made life easier, as with everyone using the same tracks, those tracks became more
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embedded and so were easier for ski touring. In theory, even kick turns, those uphill turns Will and I had had to do extra homework on after the shakeout day, are meant to be easier. Because the tracks were so good, we neither needed our ski crampons nor to be roped up. All of this made for a fast ascent. But it wasn’t an ascent to slip on. Reaching the Col gave us a good opportunity to look over to the Rosa Blanche and for our guide to assess whether we could attempt an ascent today. We went for it. The climb was so steep we wouldn’t be needing our skis, so we left them at the moment. We attached crampons to our boots and headed off. Initially the slope was steep and narrow, but then it got even steeper. I could feel the adrenaline pumping through me as we climbed up up up the precipice to the top, where there was a plateau just big enough for our team. Reaching the summit was my absolute highlight of the whole trip. The views were spectacular. I also felt the group was finally coming together, making the experience extra special. Day 3 continued to give as once reunited our skis, our long ski down the Grande Dessert was on untouched powder. It was a dream. So 87
far, this day was everything I’d dreamed the Haute route would be. But then the dream turned ugly. The sun was getting high in the sky, not only heating us up, but also heating up the snow. The aspect of the slope we were ascending meant that the snowpack could have avalanched in these conditions. All of this made our ski past Lac du Cleusson high risk and led to an intense atmosphere. The guide demanded we try to move faster. Sue and I were muttering under our breaths “we are going as fast as we can” then both Will and John shouted at the guide, “we are ALL going as fast as we can go”. We understood we needed to cross this section as quickly as possible, but we could only ski as fast as we physically could. I felt that at this point being shouted at, was not going to help anyone reach safety. After a few hours of exhausting and very hot skiing we finally reached an area of safety. We still had another hour of skiing through the trees to reach the resort, but we were safe. That night instead of a hut, we enjoyed a hotel that could have belonged in a Swiss fairy-tale. Our room even had a bath! Over dinner I realised I hadn’t cried that day! It had been a day of huge ups, of massive adrenaline, and a slam back down to earth, but I hadn’t cried at all. I had loved it.
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“For the first time in the trip I felt excited instead of daunted.�
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Day 4: Arrolla to Cabine Dix Waking up to a pictureperfect Swiss chalet room was wonderful. Whilst the huts were experiences, this was to be savoured, a real 30th birthday experience, even if it wasn’t actually my birthday that day. Last night might have been bliss, waking up in this room might have been bliss, but that’s where the bliss ended, as I could already hear the wind howling outside the windows. A howling wind and alpine peaks do not go well together. I knew what was coming, instead of skiing from the Arolla ski area to summit the Pigne d’arolla, there would inevitably be a change of plan. Rather than summiting a peak, we stayed lower and the guide taught us more about the snowpack and snow science. It is fascinating and very geeky. I think the whole team were surprised at how fascinating they found the subject. But really what the four of us wanted, was to get on the hill and increasing our heart rates. That night we were meant to be saying at the Cabine Dix, which is so remote, in winter it can only be reached by helicopter or skis. For us, that meant skiing over the Col Pascle Chevere. So, we got on the skis put our hoods up and started trekking forward.
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The Col proved to be another technical challenge, as there were multiple metal ladders to descend and we were laden down with ski boots on our feet and skis strapped to our backpacks. It felt very exposed and the fear kicked in. I took it slow and steady, methodically taking it literally one step at a time. Once safely over the Col the hut appeared in the distance. The view was simply beautiful, set in the mountain with no other civilisation around. Reaching it a couple of hours later, we found more happy friendly people there, refuelling and rehydrating with jugs of tea.
Day 5 Cabine Dix to Vignette Hut Cabine Dix felt like a furnace, I woke up with a pounding headache, not helped by the lack of sleep thanks to the snorer. Once again I had to retrieve my kit from the said snorers’ bunk! Breakfast had to be wolfed down, as we had to get going, to minimise the risk of getting caught in an avalanche. For that reason we stayed in the shadows that morning, as we headed back over the Col Pas de Chevre. The Col was busy, other groups seems to be struggling with the ladders 89
and the steep icy slopes, I thought I saw a glimpse of pride from our guide for his team as we were coping admirably. Once again, our hard morning was paid off with a powder ski into the valley and into the sunlight. It felt like our downhill ski was over in a flash as we were suddenly putting our skins back on and skinning up to the Vignette hut. The hut was in sight but never seemed to get any closer. We were all tired and hungry but managed to take in the views all around us of the hanging glaciers attached to the mountains that surrounded us on all sides. This was our shortest day of skiing throughout the route.
Day 6 Vignette hut to Zermatt It was our last day and the day we would arrive into Zermatt. It was also the first morning that it felt we had tuned together as a team. Perhaps it’s because we’d all had had a good night’s sleep, having finally become accustomed to the snoring. It was an early start - 5am – as we had a long ski ahead. Getting out of the hut was the most treacherous part of the trip so far! Pure ice with steep slopes on either side. The mere 50metre hike to the top of the Col felt like miles.
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We put our skis on as the sun rose to glorious clear skies and still weather. But before we could enjoy fresh powder skiing, first we had to tackle the Mt Collon Glacier. The ice on the glacier meant our first ski of the day was hard, and my legs were burning. Having been one of the first groups to leave that morning, looking behind us we could see other groups heading our way. It felt like we were being chased by a pack of wolves! A Finnish team caught us before our climb of the Col de L’eveque. This Col was one of the steepest of the
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trip, with 20 crucial kick turns. The Finnish team pathed the way, the slope was in a good condition and the guides were happy no crampons were needed. All was going smoothly, only the sound of our heavy breathing in our ears. Then, approximately halfway up the slope, it happened. I heard a gasp. Will had slipped. Thankfully he managed to do an ice axe arrest and stopped himself. He was ok. The only damage was, he’d have to repeat much of the
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uphill battle, including all those kick turns. We’d been so close to the end of the trip. It was a strong reminder to always stay alert to all the dangers, even on the last leg. One more Col, the Col de Valpeline and then it was time for a long descent to Zermatt, initially down the Stockli glacier and then the Zmutt glacier. The climbing and the kick turns might have been finished with, but there’s danger in the mountains on the way down, as well as on the way up. These glaciers were both very serious places to
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be, with crevasses all around us. We felt extremely fortunate, as the glacier had recently been marked with long red poles for the famous ski patrol race that was happening the following weekend. It meant we could follow the poles down the glacier safely; if we were 2metres left or right at times, we would have been down a crevasse! It was an extremely tough and demanding ski on the legs. The snow had a hard crust on top making it hard to turn smoothly. Knowing there were crevasses only a few metres away from me,
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called for survival skiing over style! It took 4 hours of survival skiing and we were exhausted, but we had made it safe and well down the bottom of the glaciers. We had a last push to get down to the resort where we could ski the pistes back into the village. There a cold and I think well-deserved beer was waiting for us. What a trip, what an experience, so much learning. An adventure like no other. I had done it! My determination had paid off.
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“It felt very exposed and the fear kicked in. I took it slow and steady, methodically taking it literally one step at a time.�
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Q & A with Abbi Naylor What did you learn from skiing the Haute Route?
Don’t go too hard to soon.
I am determined.
Try to chat to the guide on the phone rather than just email so there is not any mis-communication.
I am a fast learner.
Research multiple companies.
Mantras work well for me. I am strong and fit. I shouldn’t doubt myself. I love ski touring. I love the mountains more than ever.
Have faith in your own ability. Make sure you have trialled all your kit before starting a tour.
What are the mountain huts like?
There is so much to learn. I learnt a lot from the guide; I respected his experience, but his style of teaching wasn’t for me.... I learnt so much about how I like to be taught, it gave me faith in my own instructing style as I think I am more in-tune with the people I get to teach in the outdoors.
What tips do you have for others and which with hindsight, you wish you’d done?
The mountain huts within the Alps are nothing but an incredible experience. They range from being very basic to very swanky. All have a large dining room with long tables to fit in hungry hikers and skiers. The meals are provided by the staff that live in the huts, and is hearty, warm and plentiful. Dinner is always three courses normally with a glass of wine and breakfast is basic porridge and toast with a mug of coffee. The hut price includes these meals and 92
also a bed of the evening. A bed however can be a lose term as these can vary from two up to four high bunk beds on a large dormitory, to a huge mattress that fits up to 12 people. Some huts have same sex dormitories only, but my experiences have been mixed sex. A few huts have private rooms that can be reserved at an additional cost. The cost of huts is something to consider as they are definitely not cheap, mainly because all of the food and wood for fires has to be helicoptered in and there is a set of staff that stay in the huts who also need to be paid. However, the huts are part of the experience. The huts are warm and friendly, full of people taking part in extraordinary adventures, people tell stories around the open fires or play cards on the long tables. There always seemed to be variety of nationalities, some groups mingled, and others kept themselves to themselves. What is a constant
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throughout all alpine huts is the early to bed and early to rise ethos. Snow conditions are always better and safer in the mornings and the snow is harder (less chance of slipping around and therefore less chance of avalanche) that means the huts usually serve breakfast at 6am!
For any readers contemplating giving ski touring a go, do you have any suggestions where they could start? There are multiple ski tours available. To begin, these could be in the Scottish Highlands, in the Alps or further a-field. I would recommend researching, starting off easy and gradually getting harder and getting a guide, they will be able to teach you, keep you safe and give you further ideas of ski tours depending
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on your experience and fitness levels.
For those who may not be that comfortable with mountain and ski touring terminology, could you please explain some of the terminology? Col is the name for a space between mountain peaks, or a place of very high or low pressure between two cyclones. An example of a col is a pass between two mountains Ski Crampons or Harscheisen attach to your ski. The crampons snuggle in between the ski and the ski boot and create spikey teeth that point directly down into the snow and ice. They fit under the ski at the point where your boots attached to the ski below all of your body weight.
Skiing is travelling on skis over snow descending on skis and using lifts to ascend. Ski touring Is a form of skiing which relies on human power rather than ski lifts. To be able to ‘walk’ with skis uphill a skin is placed over the bottom of the ski to stop sliding back and create friction. The binding allows for your heels to come up and off the ski making a walking style movement easier. To then ski downhill, the skins are removed, and the heel is clipped back into the ski. Ski mountaineering Is in general an extension of ski touring. Using ski as a tool to explore mountain ranges and to reach summits. This type of skiing involves more specialist kit, knowledge and experience.
About Abbi Naylor Abbi Naylor is a freelance outdoors instructor and expedition leader, guiding and teaching outdoor skills ranging from bushcraft and canoeing to mountain biking and mountaineering all over the world. Currently living on the South of the UK, she can be found ultra-running, cycling, wild swimming or curling up with a good book and a glass of red wine. You can follow Abbi or get in touch with her via the following social media channels. Instagram:
@abbi.naylor
Website:
www.abbinaylor.com
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What’s it like to be part of the press pack at the world’s largest trail running festival. Last year our editor found out, when she made the most of an injured knee and instead of participating, joined the press pack at UTMB week.
that one’s full there’s two more amazing coffee shops next door and opposite. Bingo. Naia’s 16 and is on the USA team for Skyrunning. 16 with the composure of a happy, confident, yet gracious 25 year old. How does she do it? I wish I had that composure now, let alone at 16. It’s not just me that’s impressed by her, later others talk about her in the same vein. We chat for ages, but this isn’t scheduled at as interview, just a meet and chat. So I’m not telling stories. Naia’s great. Sponsors are going to love her, she’s so personable. After we finish chatting, Naia takes it on herself to show me around, even pointing out the athletics track where I might find some athletes training, should I fancy some star gazing. She also walks me to the swimming pool.
Saturday 24 August I arrive in Chamonix. It’s already 9pm. There’s no chance I’ll make it to that BBQ I’ve been invited to. I am shattered. I discover there’s no WIFI in my apartment! Apparently WIFI provided means it’s available in the foyer of another apartment block in the same complex!!!!! Seriously. Not happy. This is going to make live reporting difficult.
My knee might be a bit of a mess, but at least I can still swim and oh it’s bliss in the outdoor pool. The water is perfectly clear. The sky the most stunning shade of blue. The snowcapped peaks in the distance provide the most incredible of backdrops. This is the life.
Sunday 25 August The calm before the storm. Good strong coffee and a pancake breakfast at a café near the apartment. It’s a wonderful feeling chilling out here in Chamonix. Sure I wish I didn’t have a sprain to my left miniscus (knee) and that I could do the OCC, after all that’s why I originally arranged to come here, but that’s life. I’m going to make the most of this week and relish the whole thing. I’d posted in a local Facebook group, asking if anyone wanted to catch up. So it’s time to jump and get to my first catch up.
Monday 26 August Somehow I forgot about the 8am start of the 290km PTL race starting this morning right here in Chamonix. Bother. I’m sure that would have been very atmospheric as they all head off on their adventure. Instead at 9am I’m having another wonderful catch up, this time with Jacqs Leui’I. She’d offered to show me some trails. I wish. Darn this knee.
Her name’s Naia Tower-Pierce. She and her family have been in the area a while now, so I suggest she chooses the venue. That was a good move on my part. First day here and thanks to Naia, I learn the location of possibly Chamonix’s best coffee shop. What’s more, it’s close to where I’m staying. For a coffee loving injured runner, that’s a real find. Plus, if
Jacqs is a UK based New Zealander and lover of the mountains. She’s also passionate about helping rural communities in Nepal, communities far away from the trekking hubs and the trekking dollars. Turns out Unite for
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Nepal, a foundation set up in the UK, is her baby. She set it up (ok I’m taking this from the website so I get the wording absolutely right) “in response to community members from the Dudhakunda District approaching her to support a newly established Outreach Health Clinic in the area” Jacqs sees “ this as an opportunity to support those in rural and marginalised areas motivated to create change from within their communities but unable to access the resources required to do so”. We chat and chat and chat. We chat so long and could chat so much more; we decide to meet up in London (and do so too). Finally off to watch some racing. It’s the second running of the MCC today. The aim of this newish race encompassing 40 km and 2,300m of altitude gain, is to give locals, volunteers and UTMB partners an opportunity to participate. The finish line is at the Place du Triangle de lAmitié. As runners approach the mammoth finish arch, runners will see the church of St Michel framed by the arch and its colourful banners, and standing guard behind that church, the French Alps. It really is a magnificent setting. The atmosphere’s buzzing. People start to congregate to await the first finisher. The sun is roasting hot. Too hot for me. I position myself as close as possible to the finish line, whilst still being in the shade. By the time the first runner arrives, the atmosphere is electric. It’s truly sensational. The winner arrives looking fresh as a daisy and then reran the finishing strait, high fiving the crowd.
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Behind the finish line is a core of press photographers. I wonder if my press pass would get me in there? Only snag is, if I go to the press centre to collect it now, I’ll miss the leading women. But having that pass would make such a difference, no more jockeying for position, battling to get anything approaching a half decent photograph. Perhaps I could just make it to the nearby hotel (that’s effectively UMTB HQ) and back in time? Wow the hotel is luxurious. Really old school. I could imagine an exceedingly glamourous episode of Agatha Christie’s Poirot being set here. The hotel has a room for the press to file their reports and of course free internet access – good job given the situation at my rather sparser accommodation. This is my first “assigment”. I feel so new and out of place, I’m not so much the new girl in school, as the person being shown around for a look. It’s ok I tell myself, I run a legitimate magazine, I belong here, even if it does feel strange. 19:30 and I’m back in the Place du Triangle de lAmitié for the prize giving. This time I’m sat in the press pen. I’m sure my cameras gives away my novice status, but so what if I don’t have a (bought before going on holiday in 2013), will have to do.
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I’m so glad I came to Chamonix despite the knee and that I’m here in the Place du Triangle for this celebration, as the atmosphers is sensational. It’s not just prize winners called up onto the stage, but volunteers too.
It’s hard to believe Lucja used to be obese, she’s so toned and fit. Over coffee (actually uice for Zoe), Zoe tells Lucja how I’d organised that MDS training run and at the time, she couldn’t understand why I kept taking everyone up and down some horrendous climbs. I’d no idea Zoe was that new to ultra running. She’s really taken to it like a duck to water. She’s done loads of events since, including UTMB Oman.
Tuesday 27 August Early 2017 I met Zoe Pye. She, I and four others had met up for a training run prior to our going to the Sahara desert to participate in the Marathon des Sables (MDS). Zoe know Lucja Leonard, Gobi’s ‘mother’. Gobi is Chamonix’s most famous dog, for Lucja’s husband Dion Leonard rescued Gobi from the Gobi desert, during another ultra run. Coincidentally Zoe and Lucja have flats in the same building. Both have also written for Adventure She. I personally find the two of them so inspiring.
In three days time they’ll be on the start line of the feature race, the UTMB race. This year it’s 171 km with 10,000m of altitude gain. Oh to be 10 to 15 years and to have their energy and enthusiasm for life. I must not put myself down, instead I must focus on healing and getting strong again, so I too can once again hit the
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mountains. Lucja has to dash but Zoe and I stay on and chat. Zoe now has a coffee and explains she’s rationing herself to one coffee a day, so to make that coffee really count, she ensures it’s from her very favourite coffee shop. You guessed it, by now, we’ve moved on to that coffee shop. Why the rationing? So that her body forgets what it’s like to use caffeine. That way she figures, when she drinks coffee from the aid stations along the way during UTMB, the caffeine will have a greater hit on her body. I’m impressed at her diligence. She really is doing her best to control the controllables. 3pm and I meet Anita and her husband.. Like me Anita’s entered for the OCC, 56 km, 3500m altitude gain. We live comparatively close to each other and
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some months ago, did a couple of training sessions together. She’s done a lot of road marathons, whilst I’ve done none. I prefer wilder terrain, trail, mountains, views, over tarmac. I think I shocked her with the first training session I took her on all those months ago. You guessed it, it involved hill repeats. The other time wasn’t that though, simply a fun trail run.
right in the centre of Chamonix. I liked it. I like all the cafes here. They all have something different to offer. This one’s very French. It’s almost as if I were in 1920’s Paris. Coffee’s with Carrie Craig, who moved to the Chamonix valley not that long ago. Meeting people like Carrie make me think, why am I in London? Why not live in the mountains? Could my battered and bruised body that these days appears to go from injury to injury, keep up with everyone else should I move here. Do I really want to start over again? After Hong Kong, Auckland, Sydney (ok just a secondment), back to Auckland and then Melbourn, I thought I was done with living overseas. Arghhhhhh. Oh decisions decisions.
Chatting to Anita is dangerous. She’s simultaneously exicted and nervous. Her excitement is infectious. Now I want to do the race. I can’t help myself. I knew this might happen, that’s why I deliberately didn’t bring a hydration system, or running shorts. We head off to the race village, a plethora of stands advertising races and stalls selling it. I’d received an email (thanks to being press) to visit Camelbak. We chatted awhile. They very kindly gave me a water bottle and, a hydration system / race vest. It seemed really comfortable. If I bought shorts, now I could do the race! I somehow walked into an outdoor sports shop and bought a skort plus waterproof gloves. Surely all I now need is a knee bandage or some tape, something to hold my knee together and ease the pain. I see signs in a phamacy advertising these. The pharmacist doesn’t agree with my theory. In fact, she gives me the politest lecture I’ve ever received, explaining she sees so many runners after they have finished who are now so injured, they wish they hadn’t attempted the race. I remember what my physiotherapist told me, how if I did the race, I was risking a rupture of my knee.
Carrie and I head off to the North Face store where ultra-runner Stephanie Howe who has a PhD in Nutrition & Exercise Science, from Oregon State University, is giving a talk. The shop is packed. Because of my knee and my now inability to stand for long (clearly I walked too much yesterday), I’m given a place to sit. Very kind of them. The breakfast they laid
Wednesday 28 August My knee hurts. Actually, it only hurts whenever I take a step, but it hurts with every step. I have no chance of starting the race tomorrow. It’s an early start today, this time at a different café though, a rather grand one
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This page, Orsières Facing page, registration for the 2019 OCC in Orsières
on was good too. Turns out Stephanie Howe likes chocolate croissants. An elite runner who knows her way around nutrition, eating chocolate croissants! It only goes to show that we can have treats. It’s when treats become our standard food, that it’s an issue. Treats are good. Treats can motivate us. Treats are to be savoured. So far it’s been go go go go go. Fun, but still work. Now I can relax, for it’s time for me to take the train / tram, plus two other trains, to Orsières in Switzerland. I’ve packed a small overnight bag. It doesn’t contain my running kit. Last time I was in Orsières it was early August. The town struck me as being as quite as a grave. Then I discovered why it was so quiet, when walking past the church, out poured mourners. It
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appeared to be a town united in grieving one of its own. Today though was very different. Today runners were queued up outside a hall to collect their race numbers. These were the sensible runners, people who didn’t need to get up way pre-dawn, to take a chartered bus to the start. These were the runners who didn’t have to stand in a long queue in Chamonix to await their race numbers and to have their kit checked. These were the runners who would soon be able to chill out in this small Swiss town, carbo load, get to bed early, breakfast at leisure, before strolling a few metres to the start line.
Thursday 29 August
I think the runners went to bed early, for the restaurant where I’m eating dinner is very quiet. Mind you, being a gregarious introvert, whilst I love some company and interaction, I also need quiet time. I make the most of the quiet time unexpectedly presented to me.
I take photos, lots of them, trying to remember to photographer the non elite as well as the elite and particularly, to get semi decent photos of some of the women. Having been towards the tail end of a few events, I know what it’s like to go round the course seeing almost no official photographers, as they follow the leaders.
I’m actually relieved I’m not racing today. What had I been thinking on Tuesday? The central square in Orsieres is buzzing by the time I get there, having had a lie in and breakfast. I’m so glad I wasn’t on the press bus from Chamonix just after 5am. Instead, I’m meeing it after the start. In the square the athletes are in a variety of states, ranging from calm to terrified, revelled up to sleepy, the contenders and those hoping to make the interim cutoffs and make it all the way to Chamonix.
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OCC race start, 2019
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I’m told off, though quite politely. Apparently there’s a gradiing system for the press. My pass is the lowest level. I’m in the way of THE main photographer. Oops, rookie error. Must try and avoid doing that gaff again. Don’t want to lose my credentials. First stop for the press bus, breakfast in Champex Lax. I remember hiking and jogging the climb from Orsieres to this place. It is mostly unrellenting uphill. The leaders make the approximately 10 km in almost no time at all. Despite skipping a second breakfast, I didn’t manage to get photos of the top athletes, they were that fast. I did however capture shots of some still fast runners. It took me a while though to find the right place, so the sun didn’t glare and the shot was as scenic as possible. It’s now I identify a snag with being on the press bus. We keep moving on to follow the fastest runners. Problem is, that means I don’t get to see as many women or the non elite men. Um, how to resolve this cunundrum? For now there’s nothing I can do. I resolve to take whatever photos I can and enjoy this experience. After all, being driven around is great. Really convenient. I can’t image trying to do this and drive a car. On the drive to Triente I force myself to sleep. It was either that, or vomit. I don’t make a good passenger on windy
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mountain roads. Thank goodness I’d skipped second breakfast. Triente is a treat. Plenty of time for a variety of photos, runners legging it down to the town, runners with the pink church in the background and runners at water troughs, guzzling water, refilling bottles, squeezing soaking wet sponges over their heads. The speed at which the leaders go through is phenomenal. It’s the same at the next stop, the aid station at Vallorcine. It’s fascinating seeing the cameramen, clearly fast runners themselves, momentarily running alongside the leaders, trying to get the
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best shots. It’d never thought about this before. Clearly making films about races takes a lot of planning, including using camera operators who can keep a steady hand whilst running full pelt.
long since finished. Those still on the course are amazing. They have plenty of time to make it to Chamonix before the 42 hour time limit, but they do need to keep on moving. They may be ‘almost’ there, but there’s still more mountains to deal with. Apart from the path next to the lake in Champex, there’s no easy kilometres in UTMB week. Seeing these runners is a bonus. After all, it’s impossible for one person to be everywhere and cover everything in UTMB week. I’m glad I haven’t totally missed the TDS.
One more stop, this time for a picnic sandwich in the mountains. There’s only a few of us on this press minibus, put on by the race organisers. Away from the villages and aid stations, it’s quiet here. Each of us finds or own vantage point. The runners seem surprised, happy to see us, especially those doing the TDS.
There’s also some of the fast people from the OCC. Not the leaders, we stayed too long in Triente and Vallorcine to see them, but other seriously superb athletes. I love seeing so many different participants. Each one of them has trained so hard to
The TDS started yesterday from Courmayeur in Italy at 4am. It’s 145 km with 9,100 m of ascent. There’s 1,600 people doing it, with a maximum time allowed of 42 hours. The winners have
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be here, all of them deserve to be celebrated. One last look at the mountains and it’s time to head to the finish line in Chamonix. I am so glad I’ve taken the opportunity to go on the press bus. It’s been really insightful and a fabulous way to learn about different vantage points and where I can and can’t go. Plus, in a way, I feel a part of the experience. It was the right call not to attempt to run the OCC today. At the finish line of the OCC New Zealander Ruth (Charlotte) Croft is the winning female. She’s made it look effortless, as does the winning man, who does a cartwheel. Darn, I mainly miss the photo. One of the other men collapses as he finishes. Was that through exhaustion, or relief? The winning man finishes
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are harder than others, actually a lot harder. But there’s a race, or a challenge, or an event out there for all of us. Whether we win or lose, so what, unless of course sport is one’s profession when winning takes on a whole other significance. What matters is that we all get out there and do what we can with our one precious life, that we seize those moments to make our life the best it can be.
Moments before one of the TDS competitors. It’s wonderful to see their interaction, the mega elite congratulating the amazingly fit, the winner congratulating the participant.
I may not have run the OCC today, but I feel I was a part of it. Seeing the joy on the finishers’ faces, particularly the later ones, when a ‘photographer’ approached them and asked to take their photographs, finishers that may have crossed the line after the mainstream media had gone home, that was special. I really hope as many as possible of them get to see these photos. .
It is party time at the finish line, participants rejoicing as they achieve a goal which has taken so much work, not just in training for this race, but also in training for and doing qualifying events, so they had enough points to enter the ballot, in the hope that their name might come up and they could take part in UTMB week.
More from Jane’s UTMB diary in our December issue.
I feel it’s a privilege to be here, to be a part of this atmosphere. I haven’t captured all the finishers, as late afternoon / early evening, I headed off to a press conference, wanting to learn more about UTMB the whole week, the whole brand, and also got to interview some of the athletes. But I’ve tried to capture as many of the tail ending women as I could, all of them amazingly fit. For that is what I am learning, Races aren’t just for the elite; they are for everyone. True some races
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Adventure She Magazine’s September 2020 What A Woman Award
Deanna Blegg Deanna Blegg, a name you may not have heard of, or if you have, a woman you are probably in awe of.
the world championships, after one of her teammates took a terrible fall, was badly wounded, but chose to continue, it was Deanna who towed him around the course for the rest of the event. That’s how strong she is. How did they do? The team came second, a mere 40 seconds after the first placed team. As for the injured competitor, he was taken straight from the finish line to hospital.
So who is Deanna Blegg? In 2012 Deanna decided to do an obstacle race, not just any race, but the World’s Tough Mudder in the USA. It was only her second obstacle race. Deanna came third overall and second placed woman behind the legendary Amelia Boone. The following year Deanna returned. That year she won. Yes Deanna Blegg was the 2013 female World Champion Tough Mudder.
Is Deanna an injury free, perfect health, 20 something? No. On winning the world championship, she was 44, a mother of two and HIV positive. In life it is often easier to follow the herd, rather than to carve out our own path, a path which is the right path for us. Since going public with her diagnosis, Deanna has through talking with people, whether one on one, through the media, or by giving talks, done much to show how even
Australian trials for the 2014 World’s Toughest Mudder. Deanna made the team. There was no requirement to have a person of the opposite gender in the team. Deanna made it on merit. She was one of the four best people in Australia. At
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after receiving a diagnosis for a serious and life threatening condition, it is still possible to hold our head up high and to make the most of whatever life there is left to us. Not everyone has the strength to go public with serious health issues. Through being strong enough and resilient enough to go public, Deanna has shown tremendous courage and leadership. If you have a condition, whether you choose to go public or not, is your call. After all, we all are different. What matters is that we make the right call for ourselves. Back to Deanna’s physical prowess. So exactly how physically strong is Deanna? Pre diagnosis, age 17, Deanna was the world junior triathlon champion. She’s also represented Australia at the Commonwealth Games. But life as a triathlete wasn’t the right path for Deanna. She took a break from triathlon, did sport for fun, various jobs, and travelled. She put on weight too. Over time though, Deanna realised that wasn’t the life for her. She wanted to be fit and strong. She got training again and as she trained, her health improved. Deanna has also on several occasions publicly acknowledged the importance developments in HIV medication has had on her, enabling her to live for today and tomorrow, not just for today. Her journey to those World Tough Mudder events in 2012 to 2104 wasn’t an overnight success. It took time, a lot of hard work, plus buckets loads of perseverance, grit and tenacity. It was also a journey that went via adventure racing and
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rogaining (halfway between orienteering and adventure racing). A key aspect of leadership is building the right team. Adventure races can last from a few hours, to 10 or 11 days. The winner is the team (though occasionally solo entries are allowed in the shortest races) which finishes the course first, having navigated to a variety of checkpoints along the way. The terrain can be vicious - mountains, jungles, white water rivers. The weather can be cruel – freezing cold, burning heat. The team dynamics can be brilliant with teammates becoming best friends, simply ok, or impossible with thoughts of ‘never again’ or at least ‘never again with that person.’ Teamwork and leadership are therefore critical elements in adventure racing. After all, over 2, 5, or 10 days, team members can expect to suffer from lack of sleep, physical ailments, exhaustion, hunger and possibly thirst. Helping each other through those low moments, becomes key. Possibly the most important aspect of leadership is how do we lead / take charge of, ourselves? Some adventure racing teams carry a tow rope. That way they can help an ailing member, by towing them. Deanna being a powerhouse, is a logical person to do the towing, (just as when she towed a badly injured teammate in the 24 hour Tough Mudder World Championship), Deanna takes a different stance towards multi day adventure races. Deanna realised that to live her best life, rather than joining adventure racing teams that were aiming it would be better for her to race with friends in a no tow team. That way,
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she could better manage the load on her body and keep that load and its impact on her liver, within reason.
times before. Darren took on the role of finding two suitable teammates. Enter Sergey Kurov and Maria Plyashechko, Russians by birthday, but now Australian citizens and already known to Deanna and Darren. They hadn’t landed just any teammates; they had landed superbly strong adventure racers who were also supreme navigators. As the reigning (together with her teammate) women’s rogaining world champion, Maria was the logical choice for navigator. The only downside of having such a strong team, a team that went prepared, who always went in the right direction, but who weren’t gunning for a win, is they were barely seen in the TV show, a couple of snippets, but that was it.
Nowadays there’s an extra reason for her to manage stress loads on her body, for in …….. she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Deanna’s cancer diagnosis was one of those which needed to be hit hard and fast. First there was the lumpectomy, then the chemotherapy, followed by a few weeks of recuperation before radiotherapy. Deanna didn’t however let cancer stop her, even cycling to radiotherapy appointments! Her hiatus from sport didn’t last long either. Saying “no” can take guts. But saying “no”, is sometimes essential for our own peace of mind, or for the sake of our own body. Deanna’s comeback from cancer was so strong, she was invited to join a team for the biggest adventure race of them all. You might have seen it on Amazon Prime as it is airing now – Eco Challenge Fiji. But ultimately, Deanna did what all good leaders do. She said “no” when she knew that to say “no” was the right thing to do. She didn’t let herself be swayed by the fact she was saying no to the opportunity of racing with smart people she respects, in the world’s biggest adventure race. She did what was right for her body and mind.
A fifth aspect of leadership is knowing when to stop. We could gush on about Deanna, her achievements and how she has empowered, motivated and inspired others, for page after page. Alas it’s time to hit the publish key for this issue of the magazine. After all, no point in writing about her, unless you get to read about her and get the chance to also be inspired by her.
Two days later she was invited by the producers to put together her own team, though she’d only have 2 days to find those teammates – not an easy task given several names that came to mind were already committed to other teams.
With many thanks to Deanna’s sister Sharon and friend Jan Saunders, for providing us with the photographs accompanying this feature.
Delegation is a fourth aspect of leadership. After all, no one can do everything. Deanna already had the required support crew – Gavin, her partner – and one teammate, Darren Clarke, whom she’d raced with a few
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The Joy of
Climbing by Mikaela Toczek
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When you are trying to solve a problem, whether at work, in your home life, or somewhere else like during an adventure, what do you do? In this article Mikaela Toczek displays three characteristics which we believe to be essential in good leaders. She shares, rather than simply complain about the low number of women leaders, how she has stepped up to be a leader through becoming an instructor. She shares an experience that shows how it’s ok to be scared, it’s how we deal with our fear, that matters. She empowers all of us to go out there and try climbing for ourselves, if that is, we haven’t already done so. Mikaela’s story definitely meets our values of empowering, educating and entertaining.
That’s a bold claim for one sport to hold, but climbing has seen me through relationship breakdown, stress-related illness, a career change and most recently - pregnancy. I have made some of my closest friends through climbing and I even found my partner under a boulder.
“Partnership is like climbing, all the time it demands confidence, attention and caring for each other. In return it gives you the purest joy."
I have been climbing off and on for around 10 years, and more consistently for the last 6.
This was written by a friend for my wedding day. I am not a particularly brave climber and I have never been much more than average with my progress. I get scared, I worry about falling, I get nervous about the next gear placement, I bail on routes I should be able to climb.
Motivating Others I am passionate about introducing people to climbing, as it has had such a huge influence on my life and I really want to share, especially with women and girls, why I feel so connected to it. The majority of newcomers to the sport are actually female, yet in 2017 only 16% of climbing instructors were women.
However, I love climbing and I am pretty sure it has changed my life.
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I am only 5”3 so the methods I use to climb a route are often very different than my much taller climbing partners and for me, that is part of the joy, finding my own way to solve the puzzle.
“I get scared, I worry about falling, I get nervous”
However, my relationship with climbing is not always an easy one. Like any relationship, we go through challenges and there are times when I wonder why I invest so much into it?
In 2018 I joined the names of female climbing instructors. The statistics about the small number of female climbing instructors gives me the motivation to put myself out there as an instructor.
It’s OK to be scared A while back I convinced my partner to attempt the North Face of Triglav, Slovenia’s highest mountain. The route we chose was the classic Slovenian route, which is supposedly the easiest climbing route on the North Face. My partner is Slovenian and we both did what we thought was plenty of research before setting off.
Although you can enjoy many of the benefits from climbing indoors, it is real rock that excites me the most. Rock is where you start to connect the sport to the world around you, exploring places you can’t otherwise access, learning about the natural world more deeply and how we interact with it and of course, going on amazing adventures!
Yet almost as soon as we began climbing up the North Face of Triglay, doubt started to creep in. There wasn’t any good gear, the rock was loose and potentially deadly, plus we weren’t even sure that we were on the right route. I was leading and after emerging out the top of a chossy (loose) chimney on the 6th pitch, I could no longer see where to go. I made myself safe, brought my partner up and then I burst into tears.
Climbing uses your whole body, and you start to learn how to synchronize it, improving your balance, flexibility, strength and endurance all together to achieve your own personal goals. Depending on where you live the rock will be different. For example, here in South Wales, you can climb on limestone sea cliffs one day and then sandstone quarries the next, each requiring different skills and styles. Both need the ability to look at the rock and visualise how you will approach it.
We didn’t have many options, either we could continue into uncertain terrain, try to abseil back down the scary chimney with
When you are working on a route, or trying to solve a bouldering problem, climbing requires your complete focus. Whatever worries or pressures you have had in your day, are temporarily suspended as you are completely present in the moment. You have to trust your own capabilities, build confidence in yourself and learn how to manage your fears.
Almost as soon as we began, doubt started to creep in…I could no longer see where to go. I made myself safe …
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deadly loose blocks or decide we were crag-fast (stuck) and call mountain rescue for assistance. After calming myself down, we decided to attempt the abseil and an hour or so later we tentatively arrived back at the base of the climb in one piece, albeit a little shaken.
backed off leading these kinds of routes and stuck to sport and UK trad. I don’t get those moments of terror on sport climbs, but I do sometimes have them on trad. Managing these emotions is something I am working on. Now I acknowledge the emotions and utilize techniques that work for me, to help solve the problem by figuring out the source of my fears, rather than letting those fears control me.
On reflection I had over-estimated my skills and readiness for this type of climb, and the mountain had well and truly taught me a lesson. You can only hope that these lessons are learned without a major incident.
Getting Into Climbing Climbing is a hugely versatile sport, with participation amongst women rapidly growing alongside new indoor walls, bouldering centres, clubs and groups. Many centres now run ladies nights for women of all levels to climb together and learn from each other. In fact, it was through a local ladies night that I returned to climbing 6 years ago and since then I
We made a good decision to back off, and we were still within our skill levels to know how to do that safely, but things could have easily escalated putting us both at risk. Alpine climbing is still something that interests me, but since this incident I have
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have stuck with it because of the amazing community that I met through those meetups.
For some beginners climbing outdoors is their first time trying the sport, which is often the case for the groups of young people I work with, giving a small taste of the excitement, challenge and adventure of climbing on real rock. However, climbing outdoors independently is a significant progression from indoor climbing and requires new skills and knowledge to practice safely. If this is something you are interested in, and you have some outdoor experience than I highly recommend coming along to the Women’s Trad Festival in the Peak District, which is an amazing gathering of women who are partnered together with volunteer leaders to develop their skills.
To begin with I suggest trying lots of different styles of climbing and attending an intro session at your local wall to learn the basics such as tying in and belaying for roped climbing and how to boulder safely. Attending clubs and meet-ups can help you to connect with other people to climb with and to consolidate these essential early skills. As you progress you will start to recognise your own style and the kinds of routes and types of climbing you enjoy the most. Are you excited by strong overhanging routes or do you prefer careful balancing on a technical slab?
My climbing journey is constantly evolving, particularly so throughout my pregnancy. I don’t know when I will be back to my climbing peak, or if I ever will, but I am certainly looking forward to sharing that process with our own little adventure buddy, and who knows, maybe they will start their own journey into climbing too.
Once you have met other climbers you might also want to give climbing outside a try, either through friends, a club, or by hiring a local instructor who can help to show you how to progress safely on rock.
About Mikaela Toczek Mikaela Toczek is passionate about outdoor education and visual communication. She is a freelance outdoor instructor and media-maker based in South Wales. Mikaela is also a fully qualified teacher and sees the outdoors as her classroom. She has worked with young people and adults from all walks of life. She believes that enabling young people to take ownership of real challenges empowers them to become independent, confident, brave individuals and global citizens.
You can follow her adventures on the following social media channels: Website:
http://www.mikaelatoczek.com/
Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/mikaelatoczek/
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For those of us in the northern hemisphere, it’s time for the autumnal equinox. From now on, (other than for those close to the equator), us northern hemisphere people will have more hours of darkness, than of daylight. The opposite of course for those of you in the southern hemisphere. To our southern hemisphere readers, we really hope you can make the most of these longer days. But what about those of us who get home from work only to find it’s already dark? How can we make the most of the great outdoors when it’s envelope by a blanket of darkness? You guessed it, even in the darkest of months, we have a choice. We can choose to lead ourselves to the sofa, or, we can choose to head for the great outdoors, obviously choosing places withing our own ability range and for which we are properly kitted out and having first ascertained the weather. At least last winter, that’s what Philippa Ball Lewis chose to do. Here’s her story.
very year, summer ends quicker than I’d anticipated. Some years it seems to happen overnight, August giving way to September with one last rush of glorious warmth before the evenings suddenly cascade through to darkness and quiet.
Each year I decide it will be different and I’ll manage enough weekend trips to the mountains to keep my fitness up, but life always seems to get in the way. Autumn can be beautiful, but the wind and rain and sudden darkness makes it difficult to maintain enthusiasm for long days in the hills, suddenly so much harder without the summer warmth.
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Winter comes with its own magic – the beauty of cold, crisp mornings; the stillness of a trail covered in snow; the harsh warmth of wind beating against your face in deserted hills - but I always struggle to accept the loss of long summer evenings. I long for it to snow but when it arrives, my body feels slow and tired, rusty once again with the inevitable slowness of winter.
Last year, I was determined to do better. The last two years had dragged me away from the mountains, and now that I was finally free to return, I was distraught to find summer already fading. There was a part of my soul that demanded time in the mountains to recharge, and it demanded louder than the hostility of cold, wet, dark evenings.
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Up in Scotland, I have always loved to watch the sunset on an unhurried descent from the mountains – route safely climbed, hands slowly warming back up, just an easy trek back to the car park trying to distract myself from my aching shoulders and legs. There is something whimsical about the resigned switching on of headtorches long after the last light has faded, about knowing you have made every moment of the day count. But back at home in Wales, tired after a long day at work, the options always seem to be the climbing wall or an evening in. My mind has often pushed up an invisible barrier at the thought of heading into the mountains on a winter’s evening, but when I tried to consider the actual dangers, the phantoms quickly dissipated. I live in the Brecon Beacons, where the paths offer wide undulations rather than sheer rocky outcrops or sharp cliffs waiting to catch you if you misstep. I’ve done plenty of night navigation over the years and know several of the routes well enough to rarely both consulting a map. Eventually I couldn’t find any actual reasons to prevent me from going out. The first foray into winter evenings was a battle. I took as long as I possibly could to layer up, trying to pretend I couldn’t feel the car shaking as wind beat against it, or the rain already pattering down. The weather always sounds worse from inside than it feels once you’re out in it, but after a busy day at work the motivation to embrace it took some effort to dredge out. In the end, the prospect of heading
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home grumpy at having missed the opportunity beat the pain of clambering out of the car.
headtorches and the Milkyway clear overhead. It was the sort of walk I might have dreamed about when I was younger, just a kid at home reading too many mountaineering books, and it made all the miserable outings in wind and rain worthwhile somehow – like I had to press on through the bad weather nights to find myself fit and confident to get out on a night as beautiful as this.
Whilst I was deliberating, the cloud had dropped. Walking into it in the dark, away from the safety of the car, was an unnerving experience. I struggled to keep my imagination in check, turning bushes into monsters and rocks into crouching men.
The evenings began to draw out sooner than I expected. And, even more unexpectedly, I found myself almost disappointed to be losing the adventure of heading straight from the car into the dark.
Walking into the dark seemed so counterintuitive, so against everything I had ever learned about being in the mountains, but rationally I knew the path was good and I was equipped to cope with the weather – there were no real dangers beside those lurking in my mind.
A glorious patch of high-pressure arrived, and we headed straight for the hills as soon as work was done. For once we found ourselves kitting up in the light, wondering if we’d be too warm on the first steep ascent. We reached the ridge just in time to watch sunset fall across the landscape, orange light cascading across the hills and valleys, clouds streaming pinks and reds just above the horizon. It was the sort of view that’s impossible to find mid-week in winter, when dark sets in so early. We walked into it, surprised to find the ridge feeling longer than remembered, but the sunset seemed to graciously stretch before us, the last rays of light taking their time to fade.
We didn’t quite make it to the summit that night, but the outing didn’t feel wasted. By the time we headed back down towards the car I’d managed to overcome my nerves and felt almost giddy at having defied the weather and the darkness. After two or three outings, it started to get a bit easier. The relief offered by a few hours in empty vastness is invaluable every time - and this season it came with an added hint of smugness that we’d beaten the temptation to while away evenings on a comfy sofa, watching Netflix and eating too much chocolate. The dark seemed less oppressive now, less of a reason to be indoors and more just another factor to consider when deciding on how many layers to wear, just as you’d deal with a suboptimal weather day.
The first couple of stars were quick to appear, and the evening seemed to pause - headlights on the roads now just distant sparks, no noise except for the wind steadily pushing back against us as we moved towards the summit. As we left the ridge, moving up and into the final steep slope, the wind suddenly picked up. Gusts ripped through my thin trousers and sent the toggles on my jacket flying sharp and painful into my face. It was nearly impossible to stand in and I crouched low to the ground, almost wading forward, my legs already stiff with cold. The route was circular and once we left the summit and
Why had I wasted away so many previous winters longing to be able to go outside when I could have just kept going outside? One glorious evening, the path was obscured by deep snow. We pressed on up, the snow light enough to barely need
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It ended up being a decent walk – almost 13km after a full day at work.
dropped down the other side, we knew we’d be out of the wind almost instantly – but the few metres we had to walk across the summit plateau were painful.
For once I didn’t feel that winter had been wasted, or that spring needed to be frenetic with trying to catch up missed fitness.
The last leg of the descent back to the car was long, almost eerily quiet without the winds beating around my head.
I watched the evenings lift over the next couple of weeks, still heading out into the hills when possible, grateful to feel the sun dancing across my face instead of venturing into the darkness. But a small part of me missed winter already, already planning ways to keep exploring into the dark evenings next year.
It was late now, and we had the mountain to ourselves, no sign anywhere that anyone else had ventured out into this weather. It had been a good reminder that winter wasn’t over yet, that the conditions on the summits are still far removed from the warmth that had started to seep into the valleys.
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About Philippa Ball Lewis Philippa Ball Lewis is a writer and a teacher living in South Wales. She likes to spend as much time as possible running, climbing, or skiing. You can follow her adventures on the following social media channels: Twitter:
@philippablewis
Instagram: @philippablewis/
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Swimming from Europe to Asia By Catherine Wallis 136
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ometimes we are leaders, and sometimes we can be led to achieve things beyond our expectations of ourselves.
sinusitis. And just two weeks out, I suddenly started developing debilitating cramps in my calves, about 2kms into a swim. I decided perhaps I needed a greater focus on hydration – and to my relief the symptoms went away.
I have always been an ancient history nerd. So when the chance to be part of a legendary event was floated to me, it was way too tempting to decline. No matter that that the event was a cross continental open water swim, and I hadn’t swum in the ocean ever - nor really done any kind of swimming since high school. It sounded like an adventure!
Dealing with my open water inexperience was a harder fix, given that I live more than 2hrs from the nearest coast, and most of my preparation time was in winter. But I found a 3 day ocean swimming camp in Sydney and headed off to see what I could learn in a long weekend. I’m pretty sure the coach, Andre, was bemused that someone so inexperienced would choose Hellespont as their very first event. But to his credit he provided plenty of advice, tips and tricks for which I am very grateful. By the end of the weekend I had overcome my fear of waves and currents and felt much more ready to give this a good go.
According to Greek legend, Hero, priestess of Aphrodite, fell in love with Leander, a young man who lived on the other side of the Hellespont. Each night he would swim across the channel to be with her. One stormy night, he lost his way and drowned. Hero was so distraught that she threw herself off the cliff and died too. This legend spawned an annual event in modern Turkey, called the Hellespont Race, where for 2 hours one day of the year, the fourth-busiest shipping channel in the world is closed for a swimming race. The part where Leander actually drowned, is seemingly forgotten, as 800 or so people line up to attempt the crossing from Europe to Asia. The distance is 4.5km, current assisted, and the organisers recommend that you should be able to swim 4km.
Before I knew it, it was time to head to Turkey! The Base for the event is the beautiful seaside town of Canakkakle on the Asian side, and the event is run by the local Rotary Club. International entrants must book through a UK Company called
I headed down to my local pool to test my starting fitness. I could swim 800m total, stopping for a rest at the end of each 50m lap. So quite a bit of work to be done! I had also never swum in a current, or in fact in an open-water event of any kind. Twice a week I headed to the pool, slowly building up to 4kms of continuous swimming in two hours. Not fast, but steady. And there were setbacks. In winter I came down with the ‘flu and was side-lined for four weeks, as it turned into
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SwimTrek, which prides itself on getting swimmers to the finish and were extremely professional and helpful.
me their leadership at this point was pivotal to any chance of success. The current here is very strong, pushing from the left as you swim. The overwhelming message: keep heading for the opposite bank and do NOT try to swim to the finish. Most non-finishers are swept out into the Aegean Sea (where they are rescued by the event boats – known fittingly as “the catchers”.)
The nervous energy was palpable as we arrived at registration at a local seaside bar. 180 international swimmers from over 30 different countries. There was merchandise pickup, temporary tattoos and course briefings, before our first outing into the Hellespont itself: a 500m loop along the coast as an acclimatisation swim. The water was surprisingly warm – about 24 degrees – and much, much clearer than I had expected. Next SwimTrek took us out along the course by boat, clearly pointing out the landmarks to sight and when to head for shore. For an inexperienced swimmer like
The event morning started early with a 6am walk from the hotel to the finish line. It was here that we could leave our bag for after the event. We boarded buses to the ferry in just our swimmers, cap and goggles, plus a pair of disposable hotel paper slippers to protect our feet. No modesty or glamour here: just 800 people
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of all shapes and sizes, wobbling along like penguins in our ridiculous slippers.
on the other side that was to be my first sighting point.
The ferry ride to the start on the other side seemed very, very long. If nerves had not struck by now, they came like a tidal wave. 800 people stood in a carpark at the event start. A final toilet stop, and bad jokes to attempt to allay the nerves. Suddenly there was a blast of a horn, and I commented that we must be about to start. Then I looked out and saw the front group were already in the water.
As a novice open water swimmer, in effectively my very first event, I had underestimated the impact that the current would have on my stroke, as it pushed me from the left. I struggled to control my breath and my stroke. I found myself starting to panic. So I made the decision to change to breaststroke. While I hadn’t trained to swim anything other than freestyle (front crawl), I was confident that I had the swim fitness to make it. Or at least I had to try.
The crowd moved slowly forward over a pile of disposable paper slippers until we reached the beach and it was our turn to get in. I waded into the channel, fixing my eyes firmly on the communications tower
The channel is deep but amazingly clean. I saw very little in the water until I came across what I thought was a number of
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white plastic bags. But as I came closer, I realised they were in fact jelly fish. They began to smack me in the face, and I wondered why I hadn’t researched whether Turkish jellyfish sting. I can tell you now that they don’t!
done it! I was a cross-continental swimmer. The energy I had expended in the attempt to reach the red carpet left me incapable of walking. A lovely spectator helped me not to fall on my face as I climbed across the rocks to the bank. I walked the final 100m to my group – cameras still pointed in the opposite direction waiting to see me emerge from the water!
As I moved across the channel, I could see the line of fishing boats that marked the far left of the course and swimmers starting to turn to the right. The next sighting point was a large flagpole and I kept swimming towards that; but noticing more and more swimmers curving right. It was at this point that I made a mistake. Assuming the other swimmers were correct, I shifted my direction to the third point: the sport stadium. Within a few minutes I had a fishing boat beside me yelling out: “No! Don’t swim for the finish, swim for the port.” I looked up and I had been swept down the channel with the current and was already almost in line with the finish, even though I was too far out. I was in trouble.
It was not the finish I intended, but it was a finish. Our whole group made it across. 84 entrants were swept into the Aegean or could not continue and had to be picked up, but everyone was safe. I am incredibly proud of what I achieved. In hindsight I would probably have done an actual open water event as a practice, and definitely would not be lulled into following the crowd, instead of the event plan. But such are the unknowns of embarking on a new challenge. What I do know though, is that when we what to achieve a big goal, it really does help to have others on your team. To push you just a little further than you push yourself. To guide you to what you want to achieve. I am ever grateful to Andre from Oceanfit and to the SwimTrek team for the roles they played in getting me across the Hellespont. You can adventure on your own, but I really believe that we can achieve more with others to cheer us on.
I re-oriented towards the port, upstream from the finish and swam as hard as I could. I was successfully moving towards the coast, and I started to know that I would make it. But then another setback. I was 20m from the coast, but about 100m downstream from the finish. The current was extremely strong, and I was making no progress. A Swimtrek boat came alongside me and watched me for another 10mins before giving me the bad news. I had not moved. I was like a swimmer in a jet pool. The emotion of potentially not making it was overwhelming. Devastating. And they knew it. And so a quiet word and a simple solution from the boat team: just swim to the bank and the crossing is official. No glory of emerging on the red carpet, but a cross-continental swim none the less. I swam that last 20m as hard as I could and touched the rocks on the bank to the cheers of personnel on 3 boats. I had
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About Cath Wallis Cath Wallis describes herself as an Australian mum of three whose passion is exploring the world through adventurous experiences. She believes that adventure is for everybody, regardless of body type, age or ability and encourages others to find their passion and explore the outdoors. You can follow her on the following social media channels: Instagram:
@cath.wallis
Blog:
www.findyouradventure.online
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Coming Up December 2020 and into 2021 Remember, please do send us your stories Coronavirus Summiting Mount Everest
Competing in the Eco Challenge
Running The Everest Marathon
Mountain Gorillas
Triathlon After An Ileostomy
Exploring Indonesia
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Exploring Kakadu National Park Australia’s Kakadu National Park
The Grand Canyon - Rim to Rim
New Zealand’s Coast To Coast Race
Navigation For Hikers And Runners
Cuba By Bike
Charity Hiking In The Sahara
Nepal After
Cycling In South America Ultra-Running With Ragna Debats and Part 3 of UTMB week
Learning Through Reflection
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