gearforgirls

Thank goodness for Spring

2009-04-03T15:11:00.006+01:00

Well it’s been a long time since my last blog. But I was the last person to write anything so maybe I’m not so disorganised! What a busy time it’s been. I feel like a tulip in my garden about to bloom. At least that’s how my body feels. It’s been in hibernation for months not willing to be itself, until the Spring arrived. I’ve been so busy working but things are beginning to steady out now. Despite all the work though I did go for a week to Font and 5 days to Chateauvert in France.

Here is a picture of me on Hyperplomb at Font (7a), the day I felt a bit more human

Its interesting reading my last blog – all that promise of training programmes, well it never happened, life took over. Anyway it seems I respond to going outdoors climbing. In Font I had one day where I felt human and in Chateauvert there was only one day too, but gradually that feeling of being light and energetic is beginning to return. That’s what Spring does for you.

The aim of Chateauvert was to re-familiarise myself with it since my last visit (who knows when) for the holiday I’m running with French climber Corinne in October. Chugging up those 30 metre routes did me the world of good. That place is a dream for people climbing in the 4s, 5s and early 6s. I’ve updated my site with more pictures and a short video which you can find on this page http://www.lovetoclimb.co.uk/holiday.php?holidayID=2 . Do get in touch if you’re interested – its aimed at people climbing in the above grade range wanting to push their leading and onsighting skills

Since then it’s been routes on the grit!! That window often seems so narrow, between freezing cold and too hot and midges. Take it whilst I can. It might seem weird that I started off with a headpoint of an E7 called Janus and Curbar. But the difference between that and onsighting is so utterly different and actually they don’t even use the same skills. On the flip side I’ve been doing E1s and E2s to get my head in gear. I thought I’d tackle my trad from all angles!! When I go to Northumberland for Easter next week I’ll find out if this approach works.

Here is a picture of me on Janus - just before it gets hard

Janus was something I tried a couple of years ago and fell off. Last year I literally never got a chance to get back on it – so it was an early objective for this year. It’s a strenuous soaring double groove and involves potentially the ‘changing corners’ of the Peak (hardly worth comparing to the Nose on El Cap, but why not).

Nic and I had a lovely day this week at Lawrencefield in the Peak. We’d climbed most of the routes we did before but they were so long ago we couldn’t remember anything. Other than Billy Whizz (E2) is as hard as ever and that pool just gets murkier but the frogs were enjoying it. In fact the last time I went there my fleece blew into the pool and I had to wade in to retrieve it. Climbing Suspense (E2) gave me a real sense of exposure – what a cracking wall, just about climbable.

So, here’s to a sunny Spring with lots of climbing. I hope you get your climbing under way for the year. Happy Easter!

Chateauvert in the beautiful Vallon Sourn

New year, new optimism

2009-01-26T14:47:00.005Z

Happy New Year!

Its a good time of year to be optimistic about all that this year will bring, but maybe there's something true about last Monday being the most depressing day of the year (apparently the most sickies are taken on this day). It hit me a couple of days later when I started to loose my voice. I started this year so keen, but the reality of work has well and truely taken over and I've suddenly reaslised how motivated I've got to be to climb what I want to in the Spring.

So far I've done little indoor climbing, despite promises to myself of glorious training programmes, preferring to shiver it out on the grit. You have to weigh up training versus fun I guess. I've been fiddling about on a few boulder problems, making reasonably progress, but my miles the best thing I've done this year is this>>>

Conan the librarian 6b+ at Mother Cap (just above Millstone in the Peak). Wow, what a climb! I hadn't done it before, I've tried it but in August when it was just too hot greasy. Its crimpy, a little bit high ball and climbs this magnificant lump of rock. It gave me way more of a buzz than doing the 7b, David next to it.

So this is it, training starts this week, again.... tonight... with routes at the Foundry. January is almost out of the way and I can re-consider being organised again. I'm going to stay motivated by doing beautiful climbs like Conan, the grade isn't important, the experience is. Its good how these things are there to remind you what its all about. Climbing wall here I come!!

On My Way Home!

2009-01-15T18:43:00.003Z

On the 5th of January we packed our bags into my Subaru and headed to the airport. I was sad to say goodbye to all the wonderful people of Canmore, but not to the cold. I left dreaming of alpine lines, and warmer temps, so I know I will be back.

When we landed in Montrose, Colorado, the sun was shining, the mountains were plastered in fresh snow, and we had to dig in the bottom of our packs for our sunnies. Peeling off layer after layer of clothing after a month of -30 to -40 temps in the Canadian rockies, the sun made us smile.

I have lived in Ouray/Ridgway Colorado a few times over the years, and every time I come back I miss living there! It is one of the few towns in North America I could imagine living in.

The weekend was full of friends, festivities, parties, clinics, hot springs, and competitions.

Despite the cold temps in Canmore I had enough time to train at the Vision gym, where there is an awesome cave with holds for dry tooling, and Haffner Creek, the Playground, and other local mixed crags. For the first time I showed up at the competition with a bit of strength and lots of psyche.

I was lucky to draw my climbing number towards the beginning of the day, but not too early. The morning was crisp and cold with a blanket of fresh snow covering everything, and clear skies. Majka Burhart, another competitior, and myself warmed up on some easier mixed and ice routes. We forced ourselves into the screaming barfies, it was our tactic. If we got them first thing in the morning, maybe we wouldn't get them in the competition. As I climbed my first pitch of ice, on top rope, with my hands gripped as tight as I could on my leashless tools, with the lightest gloves I could find, and tons of fresh snow, the goal was accomplished. It was not fun, but it worked.

The warm up was a fun atmosphere, a handful of competitors from across the USA and Canada traded ropes, smiles, laughs, nerves, words of encouragement. I love the atmosphere. We are all super competitive, and want to do well, but mostly I think we are competitive against ourselves, and love the drive of others that pushes us.

After a few pitches my time was almost up. The temps had warmed up to a sunny day and I knew it would be a perfect day for the comp route.

We get to preview the route from a distance and get an idea of what the climbing is like before the comp, but we are not allowed to scope it with binoculars, or photos, or watch anyone climb on it.

Local Hard Man Vince Anderson put the route up this year. I was for sure intimidated!! The route climbed 20 or so meters of grade 4 ice on top rope, a good warm up, to a belay, and then you are on lead. You get two or three moves up a rocky slab, and then the route is in your face. It is a full on roof, angling at 45 degrees, traversing up and left. I could see some of the holds that were marked with green spray paint to at least give us a chance, but I couldn't figure out what you did with your feet. And I knew for sure I couldn't do twelve figure 4's!!

I get super nervous before comps or before performing for a crowd. It's kind of funny because I am by no means shy, or introverted, but the pressure of performing weighs on me. Though just like Division 1 sports at University, or guides exams, I always seem to find the groove once I start.

Full of nerves, with a twisting stomach, I dropped over the lip into the canyon, feeling like I couldn't even remember how to rappel!

I got to the bottom to find a familiar face, Bill Whitt, with a huge smile, the organizer of the comp, super hard worker, and wonderful guy. He always gives a big smile, a pat on the back and words of encouragement.

I worked my way up the wierd, ice park, ice, or snice...Without too much trouble. It felt like it took me forever, but it only took 5 minutes. While at the change over point, from top rope to lead, I took a deep breath and warmed up my hands while looking at the route. I'm not much of a sport climber, or competitor for that matter, I don't do well at working routes, or reading them. But, after a few weeks of training and some good advice from Max, my boyfriend, I decided to read the route, or at least try to see where my moves would take me. The route was steep from the start, so I wouldn't have a lot of energy to waste.

I saw the first four or five moves, my hands were warm, and I took off. I moved up the slab thinking, this would be a crap place to fall off, but easy to fall as well, the slab was not hard but insecure and an intimidating start.

I reached to the first hold sinking my tool, and testing it, up and right I found a great crack for my other tool. Looking down at my feet i found a few nubs to move on and then made my first clip. After two moves I was leaning back hips pressed in and fully IN the roof. As I tried to clip the second clip, my not a good sport climber, showed itself as I fumbled the clip and had to drop the rope. After shaking out I gave it as second go, sucessfully. Moving up a few more moves, my arms were fully pumped. I did my best to shake out, but could feel the blood pooling in my arms.

I pulled with all my strength to have a look for the next hold, but knew there was no way I could actually move, and that was me off!

In the end I climbed well, placed second, there was a three way tie for high points in the women's division, so it went to time, I was second fastest, and likely placed around 10th overall of 20 including the men. I am content with my performance, but super motivated to take the training to the mountains and climb some trad mixed lines surrounded by big peaks back home in Chamonix, where I am headed right now. And, i hope to have more time and motivation to train next year, when the hard women come back (Audrey Gipery, Ines Papert, and Jen Olsen were in nepal this year trying an alpine line) and see how it goes!

P.s...I"m not canadian, but that's not a bad nationality to be mistaken for, he he he!

Ice Climbing in the Rockies

2009-01-02T20:58:00.001Z

After a long summer of hard work, and very little climbing, lots of renovating, I was salivating for climbing. We booked our tickets and headed across the ocean to Western Canada for two months of ice climbing. Both Max and myself have spent a fair amount of time in the Canadian Rockies, so it is kind of like a second home to us. We have lots of friends here and lots of dreams in the mountains here.

The thing I love about mountains, and each different range and locations is it's unique qulities. Each range is different for the most obvious reasons of science, geology, formation. But also access, culture, local community, popularity. I love the Canadian Rockies because they are so blatantly different than the French Alps. The rock is mostly Quartzite and some limestone, quite different than the solid, granite, cracks of the Alps. On top of that, the cold temperatures, and short days, provide for the perfect conditions of long, hard, ice climbs. We have our share of ice in the Alps, but this area is a mecca. As you drive down the highway there are streaks, smears, daggers hanging everywhere. It is like a playground. And when you are sick of ice, you move onto mixed, ice and rock, and then from there alpine routes if the conditions allow.

We arrived early december when the temperatures were perfect for ice climbing. We made the long trek up to the Trophy wall.

Bike, hike, climb, do it backwards.

The day starts out with a bike in through the snow, if you are lucky enough to borrow bikes. So skinny tires, treading precariously on a thin layer of snow, with a heavy backpack laden with ice tools, screws, ropes, clothes, crampons, etc, to throw you off balance. It is a good core workout.

You then ditch you bikes where the trail begins and start hiking up hill for two more hours.

You finally make it to the base of this glorious wall, where the thin smears that you drooled over from the highway cascade infront of your eyes. I press my hips in, tilting my head backwards, and choke down a large gulp. It's steep and we aren't in good shape. Max seems to have no problem with this. I winge in fear.

The hike is long and my legs are tired. After too much time renovating and too little training I feel far more out of shape than I have in a long time.

We start up the first pitch of the Replicant, the ice climb formed at the right edge of the wall. It is fun. Many people have climbed this this year, so there are hooks, and bulges. You dance, finding feet, shaking out your hands in a desperate attempt to avoid the screaming barfies (where your hands freeze like blocks of ice due to being above your head, and then when you warm them back up it makes you feel sick to your stomach and like screaming or crying). Just as I begin up the pitch behind Max the wind and the snow seem to pick up. Torrents of spindrift pour down off the top of the wall, and I am choking in a white blanket of cold snow. The flakes melt on my face and my gloves are already soaked.

I am not acclimatized to the cold and my suffering factor for a three pitch ice climb is relatively low. By the time I make it to the belay both Max and I are covered in snow, wet, cold and shivering. I barter with Max until he agrees that really, this isn't that much fun, and maybe we could come back another day.

We rappel the route, retrace our tracks and by the time we reach the bikes enough snow has accumulated that it is now impossible to ride on the unplowed road. So we push our bikes an extra 45 minutes til we reach the pavement and ride back to the car.

Exhausted we slither into the coffee shop for a steaming hot chocolate, and a guilty donut. It was a long day but it was worth it.

Three days later....the temperatures are still mild enough to make for fun climbing. Max had his eye on the route to the left of us, Terminator. This year it is only partially formed, in what they call T2. Rather than being one long, continuous, smear of ice, it is blobs of ice at the bottom, then rock, then a dagger, then steep ice.

We retrace our steps and are back at the base of the wall. The hike feels a little less painful this time but I know the climbing will be harder.

Max and I make our way up the blobs of ice to the base of the rock section and hanging dagger and create a belay there.

Max makes his way precariously out onto the nubs or rock over to the top of the hanging dagger. I cringe as I watch hoping that it doesn't crack. Daggers aren't my favorite!! Withouth much struggle Max moves around onto the ice from the back to the front of the dagger and then up the steep ice. The rope stretches right to it's end and he finally yells off belay.

My hands are now completely frozen and I decide, against better judgement, to climb in my thick gloves. This makes it hard to hang onto the ice tools. I place my crampon and tool points onto the thin edges and make my way over to the ice. It is only a few moves, but they are precarious and if I slip I will for sure swing into the dagger possibly breaking it.

I unclip gear as I go and sucessfully reach the dagger. Stemming across I sink my tool into one of the holes and am stemmed from the rock to the ice like an X. My hands are blocks of ice and I am pumped. But I am too scared to fall off. Somehow I manage to work around onto the dagger, and then downclimb to rest. I let my weight sink into the rope and I stretch to the end of the pillar. Now I've done it. If i break the pillar it could fall on me, if it breaks, there is nothing to climb and nowhere to be lowered to. If I drop a tool I am stuck again.

I swing my hands down at my sides in an attempt to warm them up and then pick my way up the thin ice until I am to where it is attached to the wall. The climbing is no easier, it is proper grade 7 ice, steep and hard, there are bulges and holes, the pillar is cracked in three places. I curse to myself thinking how do I end up in these places and situations, but know that somehow I love the challenge too. By the time I make it to the belay the wind has picked up and the bad weather is coming in. The second pitch is much easier, but by no means easy. We make it to the top and Patagonian winds have begun to blow. Two rappels and we are at the ground again.

As we make our way back down, hiding from burly gusts of winds, we feel satiated, if only for a short while. Back to the bikes and down the road with headlamps and soon we will have a warm belly full of hot chocolate again!

It was worth it!

Australian magic

2008-11-25T08:14:00.007Z

Its 7.40am and I’ve been up already for 3 and a ½ hours. I’ve been back from Australia for 2 days now but the jet lag is taking a firm hold. Still I can make use of my time looking at my holiday pics reliving the memories. As usual our photos are fairly rubbish and a collection of bum shots but the memories are still strong.

In my last post I talked up my aspirations for Taipan Wall. However the power of Arapiles was way too strong! After a dabble on Serpentine (a 2 pitch route, the crux being a 50 metre 8a) and one visit to my spiritual climbing home I realised I couldn’t commit my time to this climb. The most prestigious pitch in Australia versus total fun at Arapiles? I buckled at the first hurdle.

If you haven’t been to Arapiles, there’s only one thing for it, you have to go. Glorious, golden bumps, ultra technical face climbing, dreamy gear placements, the most fun you can have on every grade. If you meet anyone who attempts to differ, question them, their character and whole philosophy on life. There must be something wrong with them, or else they got their arse well and truly spanked. This does happen to a lot of climbers, but that can also happen at Font.

We started with a week in the Blue Mountains staying with Ado and Claire. Ado is one of the prominent new routers in the area so we visited many places and did almost too much climbing. On our last day there we visited 4 crags. All this meant that I needed a massage half way through the holiday to cope with such aching muscles. The Blue Mountains is crimpy and like all good rock, orange in places. Some of the best climbing is to be had on the tall multi-pitch crags away from it all, so you need to be willing to have a little adventure, abseiling in and climbing out. Here’s a picture of me on a new route in the Grose Valley, I’m on a big out there 6c+ pitch.

We swiftly moved on to Taipan wall where I promptly got on the mighty Serpentine to find out what it entailed. Despite doing all the moves ok, the result was as above. I didn’t leave Taipan empty handed though and climbed a delicious water scoop called Venom, graded soft 7c+. My heart though was with onsight trad climbing.

After our dreadful summer this was an opportunity I simply couldn’t turn down. Every visit to Arapiles (this was the fourth) I have gone up a new onsight grade, each time opening a whole host of new available routes – surely the only reason to improve. This time I found myself attempting to onsight 24s and 25s. It’s interesting with all the talk over here questioning our grading system. Over there it’s simple. The climb gets a physical grade, regardless of boldness. You just have to be careful about what you’re getting yourself into, but generally the routes over there are incredibly well protected. So 24 to 25 spreads itself across French 7a to 7b climbing. It’s a joy to be able to climb almost like a sport climber on trad since the gear is so forthcoming. Nowadays, that’s my kind of trad and something that on those grades isn’t so possible in this country.

Arapiles is characterised by golden, bubbly bumps or bum cheeks as Nic and I like to call them. This often means that holds aren’t where you want them or expect, or maybe don't even exit, requiring houdini style movement. This makes for an interesting excursion on most routes. Climbing at Arapiles isn’t just about pushing yourself to the max. I have never been anywhere else in the world where the easier routes are so utterly fantastic. Here’s a picture of me soloing the ultra classic Hornpiece in the Organ Pipes. Its grade 13, about hard severe. Climbing simply doesn't not get better than this. I don't care what kind of superstar you are, this is rock climbing. Just look at that beautiful hold I’m grabbing. Ok, so I do get carried away dreaming about the rock quality there, but there’s no question about how good it is.

Mmmn, so here I am back in the cold winter. As ever we’re wondering how we can move out there. This always happens when we go on holiday. I’m sure there will be some crisp days out there to be had on the grit… Let's see what the winter brings.

Changing Sesaons

2008-11-09T14:43:00.003Z

Fall has come and gone and winter is arriving in Chamonix quickly. We had our first snow to town the other day and the mountains are plastered in snow. I spent a week in California recently for a design meeting for Patagonia, enjoying the surf, the sun, the beach, wine tastings, but it just reaffirmed that my heart is in the mountains. So many sunny days, so much good weather, never leaves for down time. We forget that beautiful days are a gift not a given when they are every day.

Fall has brought beautifully mild days, warm and sunny, and wonderful conditions in the alpine...but sadly, I haven't tasted any of it since I finished working about a month and a half ago. Renovations has ruled my reality. Sometimes I wonder whether it is worth it, growing up, responsibility, dept, mortgage? Yes, it is rewarding, to share a project, to face something difficult, to create a home base, but it has reminded me where my heart is. It is not in an office, it is not in a big bank account, it is in the mountains. Each sunny day I pass inside, I dream as i stare out my window at the north face of the aguille du midi and the long ice lines that sear the granite aretes.

But alas, like alpinism, there is an end to all suffering, it is finite. So...the project's end is in sight. Two weeks, and I will move my stuff in, hop a plane to England to give some slide shows at the Kendal Mountain Film Festival, and then head to Canada where ice is fat.

Just last week a good friend and huge inspiration in my life and climbing, Ines Papert came by for a visit. We packed our bags and headed for an overhanging, chossy crag, with drilled holes, and bolts to train. Dry tooling. I hate to admit it, but I secretly love it. I get worked every time i go. I wake up with the aches, that I love and hate so much the next day. It always makes me feel weak, but it always makes me want to get stronger.

Ines danced up routes I can only dream of projecting, as I struggled, weak, and untrained from the past two months of building. I revelled at her grace and strength. I revelled at her tiny waist and bulging back muscles, and inbetween laps we giggled about boyfriends, gossip, trips, and dreams over a thermos of coffee.

I left not defeated but inspired, to train for the next project, for ice climbing and mixed climbing in canmore, and inspired by Ines's humble strength and spirit.

For dinner we joined Max, who had been dilligently working on the apartment all day, and another friend Cory, for a big plate of well earned pasta, a bottle of wine, stories and shit talking, dreams and giggles, and i remembered again, why I love the mountains and everyone in it!

Photos, Ines Papert clipping a bolt off of a figure 4, STRONG WOMAN!!
Ines Papert warming down on something steep and hard, balance is key! Cory Richards belayer.

Disappointment and hope ...

2008-11-05T18:14:00.001Z

"We must accept finite disappointment, but never loose infinite hope."
MARTIN LUTHER KING

Stars in a mountain sky after a beautiful autumn day in Austria.
I'm here and not on route to Italy as planned.

This week I had to make the tough decision to withdraw from the 100km World Championships on Saturday. I say tough - well - the decision sort of made itself. Initially I thought it was just knee pain and hoped that the physio and a few days rest would allow it to settle. But now it is not isolated to the knee, I'm unable to run without pain - and I'm concerned as to what the injury is. With a Gold Medal in 2006 I've had my own hopes and expectations to live with during my training and preparations. Now those hopes and expectations are meaningless. I can’t run. After all the training it seems almost unbelievable to be injured at the last minute. There is nothing I can do. But it doesn’t make it any easier. The feeling that not competing I let down the team, Great Britain … and myself.

It is perhaps inevitable that the words competition and performance are in use at a Sales Meeting - and I'm here in Austria at the autumn sales meeting of The North Face. In a way, with a long summer of races behind me, these are words I have been living.

But we live in an uncertain world. And beyond competition and performance we have to dream. We have to endure and we have to explore. We have to learn to live with it when sometimes, just sometimes, that exploration takes us to an edge we didn’t want to find.

I might be facing uncertainty now, but there are stars in a clear mountain sky. And I dream.

7 days .....

2008-10-31T19:10:00.002Z

"For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream."
VAN GOGH

Tonight I know nothing with any certainty. But there are stars in a clear mountain sky, and so tonight, just tonight, I will dream.

Zermatt - two weeks in one place - and waking to the mountains. It has been a privilege just to have had the chance to be here, and for that I am grateful. Time in one place - a time to take stock - a time to prepare - a time for work - and a time for training. But the days have swept past too fast.

From autumn to winter. During the past few days winter has arrived. An incredibly swift change. Beautiful. And yet somehow it seems to have shocked the mountains into a hushed quiet. Me too - neither mind nor body quite prepared for the cold, the intensity of white.

Those beautiful days of autumn have past. The intensity of colour, the warmth of the mid-day sun, the frosty cold of morning and night.

But now again I leave - tomorrow to Winterthur - Sunday to meetings with North Face in Saalfelden - and then back to Winterthur before my flight to Rome. But that is the root of my uncertainty. Pain in my knee during my long run last Sunday has forced me to stop training for a few days.
Will I be fit to compete for the 100km World Championships on the 8th?

Mal luega ....

I haven't given up hope yet. Trying to keep strong in heart and mind.
If the knee is good I run ... if not ... then this one is not for me.

One step at a time .... always one step at a time?

Touching base - Turkey to Australia

2008-10-11T10:37:00.005+01:00

I've just returned from my first 'lovetoclimb' holiday in Geyikbayiri, Turkey, which I ran with Steve McClure. Above is a picture of me doing a long 6b+ at Trebenna called Lycian Alpinist. The courses were a great success and lots of happy people returned home. At the end of them you feel you've been away with a load of mates and feel guilty having charged for it all! Steve and I end up putting everything into these weeks - its non stop from 8am till we go to bed, but always worth it.

People often say to me that I should run women only courses. Its a funny one and somehow doesn't sit quite right with me - its a personal thing. At the end of the day we all climb with men on a day to day basis. What's more important with courses from my perspective, is that there is a male and female coach. Out of the 20 people we coached, 7 were women, an over-representation anyway - I'm happy with that.

So Nic and I are about to go on our blow out holiday to Australia, where the rest of the world seemed to be a compromise! It'll be my fourth time there - but it is my favorite climbing destination. I'm aware this could be my one of my last chances, especially finding myself fit, to fully get involved with Taipan wall. Here it is in all its glory. My aim is to climb straight up the middle - I will let you know how it goes.

Dreams

2008-09-13T14:58:00.002+01:00

"Only as high as I reach can I grow, only as far as I seek can I go, only as deep as I look can I see, only as much as I dream can I be." KAREN RAVEN

Running high, running far and looking deep within yourself to find the strength. You need to dream and to have the courage of your dreams in order to find within yourself your edge, and to learn to be who you are.

The Ultra Trail Tour du Mont Blanc - a long mountain journey. The words escape me. How do you capture those emotions and those feelings? How can you express them in writing? So forgive me the delay….. Days have passed, but the mind and heart are still full …...

Sitting in the Kirchplatz in Zermatt, surrounded by my beloved mountains and again I am just happy to be here. I cast my mind back a few days - to another church square - the Place du Triangle de l’Amitie in Chamonix -18:30 on Friday 29th August 2008 and the start of the 6th edition of The North Face Ultra-Trail Tour du Mont Blanc. Warm sunshine, clear skies, the square crowded with runners, the streets packed full of supporters and the sound of Vangelis’ ‘Conquest of Paradise’ resounding in my ears, and in my mind and in my heart.

Trepidation and apprehension, anticipation and the joy of freedom. Standing at the start was a bundle of emotions all in one. For me it was just a great privilege to be again participating in the ultra trail - but was I prepared, would I be fit and strong enough for the challenge? Questions that are always in the thoughts beforehand. I missed so much training during the spring with my stress fracture, but now after a long summer of running and racing hard, did I have too much in my legs? I sometimes find myself doubting if even my legs will start to run - a sort of fear I always have at the start of a race. But then the moment to ‘go’ arrives - and then life becomes simple - you have a destination to reach. And the journey to that destination is yours to enjoy, to savour and to cherish every moment of. Perhaps that is one of the special things about a long race like this - it is a journey through good times, through bad patches and you have simply to try to live in the moment with integrity - a mirror to the journey through life itself?

Running far and running high on a beautiful mountain journey. A ‘big’ dream - that needed us to reach deep within ourselves - to be true to what we could do. But perhaps the challenge of reaching beyond what we feel we can do is eased by the tremendous support that characterises UTMB. The organisation, the sponsors, the volunteers, the runners, the supporters and every person who wished us ‘bon courage’ - that is what makes this race so special.

The 2008 edition gave us a tough course - 166km and 9500m of up and down. Having walked it 2 weeks before, it was very fresh in my memory just how long a journey lay ahead. But somehow you forget that when you are running. Feeling good I started fast … just taking one step at a time … from one village to the next, refuge to refuge, valley to col and col to valley. It worked - a beautiful evening gave way to a still night - hard work but the peace of the mountains eased the labour. There were moments of camaraderie - with fellow runners and supporters - interspersed amongst the many many moments of being entirely alone. There were moments of feeling strong, and moments of feeling not so good. For me the hardest part was when the signs of tenosynovitis started before Champex. Slowing drastically and feeling like I could manage no more than a walk I struggled in my head with whether I would be able to make it. But then I sort of ran through the pain - over Bovine and down to the Col de Forclaz and Trient. From there you are running ‘home’, strength and determination returned. I relished just being on the move, on my feet and being free. The heat of the day gave way to the warmth and ‘quiet’ of early evening. The last climb up from the Col de Montets and the majesty of the Mont Blanc was before me. Then alone and surrounded by the nature I wished almost that the journey was longer - that the night could continue - that the race wouldn’t end. But then downwards to Chamonix, the final descent … sort of a strange feeling to know I had the distance on the 2nd woman …. I hit the streets of Chamonix and with light heart and feet I ran those last metres back to the Place du Triangle de l’Amitie - for me the journey complete. I won’t forget the welcome - moments like that are to treasure.

Whatever your challenge, whatever your journey in life - reach high, seek far and look deep - and dream …. Then you can be who you are.

Lundy washout but looking forward to Turkey

2008-09-09T16:31:00.008+01:00

So Lundy didn't happen. Our tent is so small and the wind and rain so forceful Nic and I returned home early. It was the right decision. We changed our ferry tickets and hung out in Devon, mooching about. Nic knew that James Pearson was around so we met up. Seeing his trad project near Bideford at Dyer's Lookout was however, totally inspirational. Its a 50 metre slab, that simply by looking at it, you can tell its E10. Unfortunately for James the weather wasn't what he wanted and Dave Simmonite (photographer) and the Hot Aches (film crew) also had to go home empty handed.

Nic and I wandered aimlessly along the coastline and decided to just go climbing up some rocks. That's quite an alien concept, especially for me as I normally 'need' a guide. Without a guide or any idea if there were any routes in the area we spied out a flakeline and a chimney blowhole. Here is a picture of me on the flake. It's somewhere around severe or VS. It looks rather classic doesn't it, unfortunately the reality is less so. Nic's choice (up the inside of hole on the right) was the loosest climb I've ever encountered and positively scary to second. When he touched a peg, it and everything around it immediately crumbled, and the exciting thought we might be new routing was quelled. The dampness, fragility and darkness remind me instantly what I like about climbing - not that.

Anyway, here I am back in Sheffield tapping away at the computer having decided to abandon climbing for 2 weeks. My project is flooded. Its not tidal, as its in the Peak District, but the latest weather phenomenons can change anything I guess. In less than 2 weeks I head out to Turkey with Steve McClure for a climbing holiday I'm organising. I can already picture a needle of vitamin D piercing my skin, infiltrating me with wellbeing. Sorry to those who are stuck here for a while yet till your next sunny moment. In fact, if you're interested, there's still one place left - look here to see. Surely after Turkey I will have some real climbing to talk about.

Facing the Dark Side

2008-09-07T07:38:00.003+01:00

Photos: Top: Jeff Banks giving a Kiss to Mark Ryle, a fun day out on the South Face of the Aguille du Midi, rock climbing sunny granite. Middle: Mark Ryle on the crux pitch, as Jeff Banks and I heckle from below. Bottom: Three Amigos Mark Ryle, Me, and Jeff Banks, at the top of the route after a day full of laughs, hand jams, and back in town for dinner!

I went down to visit my friend Mark Monday, it's weekly ritual. An hour and a half drive to Rumilly. Usually I have a small bag of his laundry, some home made treats, soup, cakes, salad, and a handful of letters. It's usually either heaving with rain as I descend the auto route, or its one million degrees. I park at the old church, and walk into the sterile building, pushing the elevator button to arrive at the first floor. Passing each room marked with a name I find my way to Mark's. He's sitting in a chair eating his lunch or dinner, or on his bed reading a book. His face lights up as he sees me. He's likely been waiting, wondering who will visit today. He smothers me with a huge kiss and I feel needed and loved. He sighs "Ahhh great, now I can take my helmet off." I"m ready for him to take his helmet off now, the first time it was a little traumatic. As he lifts the white plastic helmet off his head he unveils his injury. The right side of his head sags into a depression the size of a large grapefruit due to the fact that he is missing nearly a third of his scull bone.

"Do you have any news about when you will have the plate put in?"

"Yeah, the 1st of October, I can't wait!! I hate this helmet, it's like having to wear a wooly cap in the middle of summer, while walking on the treadmill doing physio."

"What is the surgery like?"

"It's not supposed to be too bad. They will take me back to Geneva which is good, because that's where I was right after the accident so the doctors know my story there."

"Yeah, I remember Geneva."

I remember the whole thing, rockfall on a relatively normal day out in the mountains. Climbing a day route off on the Blatiere, just to the left of the Aguille du Midi. A dozen or so climbers on the face and Mark got hit....I sit there and face Mark, we chat, he's hopeful, he's positive, he's just taking it as it comes. I can't help but wonder if he's in denial, if he's putting on a brave face for me. I can't help but change places with him, or put Maxime, my boyfriend there, it could have just as easily been someone else.

But I am amazed, as we dance through topics ranging from literature, to physio therapy, to Chamonix gossip how "Mark" he is. I can't believe how well he is doing.

We talk about the parts he doesn't remember, the coma, the two brain surgeries, coming out of the coma, not knowing he had a head injury, being restrained to the bed, initially not being able to move his left side, and all the progress until here.

Once we have exhausted all the topics of conversation, he's eaten the tomato soup I brought him, and the fennel (wierd, but he loves fennel), we pretend like we're having a dinner party together, Mark is getting tired, visiting hours are coming to an end , and I have an hour and a half to drive back to Chamonix.

We say our goodbyes, give traditional French cheek kisses, patented Mark hugs and I go back for just a few more, before I leave, not really wanting to leave. Knowing how close it all was to not having any of this.

The drive home is hard, it leaves me to my head for an hour and a half. I process his progress. I process his deficiencies, due to the head injury. I process his bad luck. I process my chance, my luck. And I wonder.....why we take the risk? I have to answer to family, friends, loved ones, and I want to have good answers.

I go through his past two months, a week in a coma, two brain surgeries and all the progress since. And I am amazed. Mark is lucky, he is strong, he is brave, and I can't help but wonder if I would be so composed.

It's the dark side of what we do, I think about how fragile life is. I think about loving the people in my life harder, being more forgiving of others and myself. I think about the great days, the glacial sunrises, the shiver bivies with Max or a good friend, I think about the laughs, the little epics, and I think about the risk. I think about car accidents and randomness of life and balance that into the risk I take in the mountains. I think about my Dad who died of a heart attack at 42 on a run, and my Uncle who died in the World Trade Center.

I know the dark side of climbing is always there. I know we only face it on occasion otherwise, if we processed it every day, we would be too scared to go climbing. But I know the dark side of life is there too. If we processed it every day we would never get out of bed.

So I take moments and events like this to value life, experience and people more, and to be honest with myself about why I climb. And by the time I get home, with the panorama of mountains laid before me, the Aguilles, the ridges, the rock, the snow, the ice...I am excited to share another adventure with someone I love, to tie into a rope and trust my fragile life and theirs to the partnership of sharing a rope. Because that's why Mark is so special to me, because we shared dozens of days like that in the mountauns, and we know friendships that lies deep in the elements of sharing each other's fragile lives.

And that's why we climb, and that's what I'll tell those who ask me!

Hello to gearforgirls

2008-08-26T15:07:00.004+01:00

Alison has kindly asked me to contribute to your blog. She actually asked me a while ago but I've been so busy preparing for the MIA (Mountain Instructor Award) that pretty much everything else has fallen by the wayside. But one and a half weeks ago I passed so I'm free again. I'm going to post about interesting climbs I do and I guess anything else that comes to mind. I'm hoping now that I might actually do a few climbs because its been pretty sporadic for a while.

To fill you in on what I do... I'm a rock climber living in Sheffield. I tried lots of other jobs but I've finally settled on teaching climbing and have a website www.lovetoclimb.co.uk. I pretty much like every aspect of the sport and go in phases of what motivates me at the time and what I can fit in with everything else.

Next week I head to Lundy. I've been once before, it should be good as long as the weather holds out. Then I'm running a holiday to Turkey at the end of September and finally I have a trip planned to Australia in October. Its my favorite climbing destination and will be my 4th visit there. So there should be lots to talk about.

Sitting down .....

2008-08-22T20:21:00.001+01:00

Trust no thought arrived at sitting down .....
SHEEHAN, Running and Being

It's true. Or at least that's the way it feels to me? My head works when I'm running or when I'm walking. Lose that time and I lose my thinking time. So it was when I was injured with the stress fracture and unable to run. I just don't seem to get the same 'thinking time' when I'm sitting. So .. just at the moment I'm relishing the freedom of this summer - running and walking and climbing in the mountains. Time on my feet to let the mind wander. It won't make me wiser, but I think I'm happier. Footloose and fancy free. Well or as near it gets when you are living in the 'world'. But I'm lucky. I've been meeting wonderful people. They are true friends and their generosity to me means so much.

A time for everything - a time to give, and a time to receive. I'm doing a lot of the latter at the moment. I just hope in some way I'm also doing some of former. But the time will come. And I hope I have the generosity of spirit that so many have shown me.

At the moment - I'm homeless at 'home' in my beloved Zermatt. Having just walked around the route of the Ultra Trail Tour du Mont Blanc over three days last weekend (in preparation for the race on 29th/30th/31st) - now I go to the other extreme - I compete in the Matterhornlauf on Sunday. A 12km 'sprint' and nearly 1000m ascent. Well ... life is full of contrasts?

Zermatt, Switzerland

In my Backyard

2008-08-17T12:10:00.003+01:00

As the days counted down to departure, I couldn't help but laugh. Max's normal organized nature, the Mechanical Engineer in him, had been affected by the chaotic nature in me, the Eccentric, Literature Major, turned Mountain Guide.

There are two types of travellers, packers. The ones who make lists, pack a week in advance, weigh their bags, are exactly at the weight limit, chose one shirt over the other, not both, have thier itiniraries printed, and show up to the airport two hours in advance. The other, is me! The ones who pack the night before, are up until 2am doing laundry, packing, repacking, battling with zippers to squeeze it in. Who pack that cute extra shirt, town shoes, a skirt, just in case. Who are over limit, desperately smiling at the check in agent hoping not to pay a fortune. Who are exploding bags on the scale, underpants, sports bras flying, until the the Airline agent is sufficiently embarrassed, or annoyed, and says, don't worry about it, that's good enough. The ones who show up at the wrong ticket desk, because they didn't pring out the flight info, are just in time before the check in closes.

No matter how hard I try, and believe me I have tried, it's always the same. No matter how much I travel, and believe me, I travel a lot, it's always the same. Last year I tried. I started packing, if that is what you could call it, a week in advance. It turned into a dozen piles strategically placed around the house, gear, climbing clothes, town clothes, toiletries, computer stuff and books, camping gear....etc. The piles never got smaller or more organized until midnight the night before the flight.

As I dropped Max off at the airport for a trip to Pakistan, I saw that look on his face, the one of relief. He checked his bags, had his boarding pass, and whatever he had forgotten didn't matter anymore. I knew he would sleep on the plane.

After our final goodbyes, I turned to walk back to the car and pay my parking. The woman paying her parking in front of me saw my teary eyes, and red cheeks. She looked at me kindly and said ¨Ahhh, le depart. Mais avec le depart, c'est la retour.¨ I smiled a little.

On the drive back to Chamonix from Geneva, my mind spun...imagaining getting off the airplane in Islammabad, walking through the gates and entering another world. The colors, the sounds, the smells, the culture. All the images and memories from my ski mountaineering trip last spring came rushing back. And I wished it was me getting on that airplane.

As August 27th rolls around, it marks a monumental goal in my life. Ok, ok, funny to some, but I am serious. It marks the first time in 10 years that I have spent more than three consecutive months in the same place!! YIKES. As I drive closer and closer to Chamonix, the mountains begin to rise higher and higher, plastered in a new coat of snow, and in the folds of each ridge is an adventure yet to be had. I think about all that surrounds me here, all the potential, and wonder why I can't be just as present in my own backyard as in Islammabad.

I think of all my experiences over the past year, and part of me is happy not to live out of a duffel bag, and a tent, and to get sick on water or food that I am not used to. Part of me is happy to sleep in a bed every night. I wonder if I'm getting older or just smarter....

I think of my past year.
May-June Climbing in Yosemite, California Regular Route of Half Dome in a Day
June-July Ski Mountaineering in Karakorum Pakistan FIRST FEMALE SKI DESCENT, Global Warming Documentary Film CHASING GLACIERS
July-Sept Guiding and Climbing in Chamonix
October-November Writing Program Banff, Alberta Canada
December-January Ice Climbing Montana, Alpine Climbing Patagonia, Argentina
January Ouray Ice Festival
January - February Nepal Khumbu Climbing School Volunteer Work
Februrary Oman First Ascent Rock Climbing in Oman
March Ski touring Chamonix
April Ski Mountaineering Alaska
May Ski Mountaineering Exam Alaska UIAGM Mountain Guide, First Female Ascent of Deprivation, Mt Hunter

It makes me tired just thinking of it....

Minute Papillion Max says to me, slow down butterfly....So I take a deep breath as I turn the car off in my driveway and relish being home.

I brew up a cup of coffee, pack my bag for a days work tomorrow on the Arete des Cosmiques, and I think of the adventures in my backyard. I think of my project for the now....building my home and playing in my backyard...and it doesn't seem that bad...it is Chamonix after all!

Another day of training ....

2008-08-13T22:16:00.001+01:00

Men do less than they ought, unless they do all that they can.
CARLYLE

Two weeks after the 78km Swiss Alpine Davos, and one week after the Gondo Event with its double marathon …. Friday I climbed the Nadelhorn (4327m) between the Saas and Mattertal valleys in the Valais of Switzerland. Then I sat on a bench waiting for the bus, and wondered if it was too late to go to run Sierre-Zinal afterall. I had been invited to this race - but the timing of the invitation came when I was still suffering from my stress fracture and unsure about how the summer plans could work out. With first a 78km race and then an 84 km race in the previous two weeks, and a 4000m mountain just 2 days before (let alone all the other running and walking) - perhaps this would be a step too far? Was it too much to expect my legs to forget the miles in them and be fresh and fast enough for a race of this stature?

Sierre-Zinal is one of the most respected mountain races internationally with a well-established reputation. Highly regarded by both the athletics community and the local population, it is a race that draws elite international runners, and huge crowds of supporters. This was the 35th anniversary of this race of the Five Four Thousand Meter Peaks, a true classic mountain race - which was created as an expression of the real delight of running in the mountains. At a distance of 31km (leading from the town of Sierre in the broad basin of the Rhone Valley to Zinal) - it is ‘short’ for me - but it is a tough race with 2000m ascent and nearly 1000m of descent, demanding high levels of endurance and technical mountain running ability.

I took a deep breath as I was sitting on that bench in Saas Fee - and made the telephone call. Not only was it still possible to race on the Sunday - but they would be delighted for me to be there …. It was meant to be. I just wasn’t so sure my legs thought so too.

A hot day, but a stunning course - running towards the Matterhorn yet again - this time from another perspective. As I gained height from the floor of the Rhone Valley the mountains opened out before me drawing me on until the final descent into Zinal. A beautiful race. Stretching the envelope of endurance - I took 3rd position. Sometimes when you try to do more than you think you can, you find the more is possible?!

http://www.sierre-zinal.com/

Graubunden, Switzerland

How far to go?

2008-08-04T09:26:00.002+01:00

Only those who risk going to far can possibly find out how far they can go.
T.S. ELIOT

Just one short week after the Swiss Alpine Davos - too soon for a tough event such as the Gondo Event? A double marathon - 42.2 km on Saturday, from Gondo to Ried-Brig, with 2000m elevation to climb and then to descend, followed by 42.2km on Sunday, from Ried-Brig back to Gondo, with another 1900m elevation (climb and descent). Too soon perhaps still to run my best - but I was so tempted by this …. Having walked in this area alone a few years ago, I knew just how special it would be. And good training towards The North Face Ultra Trail Tour du Mont Blanc at the end of August?

The Gondo Event is a unique race with a unique atmosphere. It is relatively small - with this year about 110 participants, but the race has a very special quality and a close relationship is formed amongst the runners and the supporters.

We were blessed with stunningly beautiful days. I was happy to be there, to be running, and to be part of a race over a historic pass and in such beautiful mountains. Following my 2nd place at the Swiss Alpine Marathon only one week ago, this was a good race for me. My cumulative result for the two marathons together was 8 hours 19mins - just 14 minutes behind the 1st man - and I was 4th overall. I was 1st woman - 1 hr 14 mins ahead of the next.

The race is in memory of a giant mud avalanche on October 14th 2000, when part of the village of Gondo was buried and 13 in habitants lost their lives. It is a two day stage race over a distance of 84.4km and 3900m ascent and descent. The first stage follows the impressive Gondo Gorge to Simplon Dorf, via the Simplot Pass (2005m), across the Bistinenpass (2417m) as the high point, down into the valley of Nanztal, across the foot of the Glishorn, crossing the Saltina Gorge and river to Ried-Brig. In memory to the first Gondo Event when the bridge across the Saltina river was washed away, the creek is crossed still through the water rather than using the bridge (2km before the finish). The second stage starts at Ried-Brig and follows the heritage path Stockalperweg along the Ganter valley, crosses the Simplon Pass (2005m), and thence downhill via Simplon Dorf to Gabi. From there a second, strenuous climb up to Furgga marks the second summit of the stage, followed by a 10 km downhill stretch through the Zwischbergental and back to Gondo.

http://www.gondoevent.ch

Wallis, Switzerland

Judgements ....

2008-07-29T20:33:00.002+01:00

We judge ourselves by what we feel capable of doing, while others judge us by what we have already done.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

But sometimes, just sometimes .... it is hard to even ourselves judge what we feel capable of doing?

78km - the Swiss Alpine Marathon - the 26th July
I started ... and I finished ... happy yet sad too. In 2006 I set a new record, I was first woman again there in 2007 - and it would have been very special to make it again. It wasn't to be. I finished 2nd behind Jasmin Nunige of Davos, in what for me was a very slow time. But I finished despite sickness during the race, and on relatively little training.

When I was last here in the Graubunden in early June I could run maybe just 10 minutes a day. Step by step. Injury teaches you to take the time; to have the patience to take those 'baby steps' to climb back up to the peaks. But sometimes it is tempting to try what you think may still be out of reach. Because unless you try, you will never know.

So - I guess I will judge myself by what I know is possible for me to do - and so be disappointed with my run on Saturday, while yet happy to have held the strength of mind to finish. But others look sometimes to what we have already achieved - and the incredible support I received from so many during the race and after showed me that. To be known by name by strangers from near and far, and to know they are rooting for you - is an incredible source of strength. Thank you.

But most of all - I am happy to be running - and happy to be in the mountains!

Now I have some days with family - and we stay with friends who have been such great support to me. So I am lucky. Very lucky ...

Uncertain yet of my plans for the next few weeks as I aim towards The North Face Ultra Trail Tour du Mont Blanc - but living from day to day - and all will become clear ...

Graubunden, Switzerland

Swiss Alpine Marathon Davos http://www.swissalpine.ch/

Right to Play: ‘when children play, the world wins’.
http://www.righttoplay.org.uk

Birthday Limestone

2008-07-26T12:35:00.008+01:00

The more time I spend "suffering" on cold alpine routes in the mountains, on little icy bivy ledges, on 41 hour pushes, the more I enjoy rock climbing! I am not a FANTASTIC rock climber. Sometimes I think I'm not actually not a FANTASTIC Alpine Climber I'm just better programmed for suffering than most people. That maybe I'm missing that "normal" gene that says wow, this isn't that fun, I'm kind of scared, I think I'll go down. Somehow in my brain all those things add up to purpose, meaning, accomplsihment and make me want to go up! Though, as I keep passing July 15th, my birthday, and gaining in years, I think I am learning to relish the "easy days" in the mountains. The days where I didn't suffer too much, where we were warm, where I wasn't scared, and where I got to climb on prickly, clean, limestone.

That is one of the perks about living in Chamonix, and France, not only do I have access to splitter granite cracks to stuff my hands into up high in the Mont Blanc range, and icy North faces, but also steep, clean, white sunbleached, limestone faces, just a 30 minute drive down the valley.

Last year to celebrate spring, Maxime Turgeon, my beau, and I went down the valley to climb on a crag called Malidier, just above the Cluzes payage, just a 30 min jaunt down the valley. The day was full of smiles and laughs so we decided to make another voyage down there to celebrate my birthday. This time to the opposite side of the valley, Vaudage.

Max is a champ, he loves to share the big alpine with me, big cold North faces, but also recognizes my need to be a Princess at times, hence my bog name
www.alpineprincess.com....
My backround in short is that I am a middle child, only girl, with two brothers and I have just discovered pink and the world of princesses about 5 years ago. So now, I like to carry a little bit of that into the mountains with me everywhere I go, from pink helmets, to sparkles on my eyelids. I learned from the best, the late Sue Nott and Karen McNeil, alpine climbers, my mentors who carried pink and their femininity high into the mountains and onto hard routes, who taught me about the "melange" as the French call it, the mix of strong and sexy!

The day started out with french toast, piled high with fruits, and a smattering of maple syrup straight from Montreal's maple trees!!

Next off down valley, up a bumpy road, and a little hike to the base of the route. When I looked in the back of the car for my backpack, Max announced that for my birthday I didn't have to carry a pack! WOW, what a treat. Being a mountain guide I usually have the heaviest pack, heavier than my clients who are often far bigger than me! I felt like a tourist, but also a Princess and grinned as I walked the trail in my cotton Patagonia Serenity Tights, my cotton Patagonia Hot line Tank top and swinging my digital camera in hand!! Cotton, no back pack, tank top! Very unusual for an alpine climber, sunshine, alpine flowers, I was revelling.

"Can every day be my birthday Max?" I asked, he laughed.....

I started up the climb to link the first two pitches together, ending up straddling a huge bolted chimney as I inched my way up to the top of a big pillar for a good belay spot. Max joined me and took the next block, then my turn again. Steep, little holds, my fingers, sore and not strong, after months of skiing, alpine climbing, guiding on Mont Blanc, and swinging a hammer for renovations, and my forearms ached in a way that made me feel alive. I worked my way up and down working out the moves, downclimbing back to a rest until I could figure out where to go.

"I'm scared Max. Watch me I might fall." He smiled at me and said "I'm with you. It's good to be scared, just go for it!"
I went for it....fell off, tried again and then dissapeared around the corner climbed 30 or so more meters and made a belay.

We spent the day basking in the sun, swapping leads, a few cheeky kisses before leaving each anchor, and made it back to chamonix for a BBQ with all my friends under the alpenglow sunset, across the North face of the Aguille du Midi, in the garden of my new apartment.

Turning 30 wasn't as bad as I thought it would be!

If you're interested in celebrating your birthday on limestone, or more information about places to climb great limestone in France drop me an email at ZOE_HART@PATAGONIA.COM. Last year I celebrated a 40th birthday with client, Paula, by climbing limestone sea cliffs in the Calanques for a week, eating fish on the ocean at sunset, and swimming in the Mediteranean!

Photos
TOP: Zoe Hart Climbing Limestone, at Maladiere, just outside of Cluzes, down the valley from Chamonix.
MIDDLE: Maxime Turgeon, preparing sunset dinner, after a day of climbing above the sea in the Calanques, just outside of Marseille, one of our favorite limestone getaways!!
BOTTOM: Zoe Hart Climbing Limestone, at Maladiere.

The New Girl On the Block

2008-07-19T06:55:00.004+01:00

Hi all, Zoe Hart here. I was kindly asked by the Gear for Girls team to contribute some of my stories to this blog, so here goes!!

I'll give you all the skinny before I start spewing my stories and glories from my home base in Chamonix France. Though my passport is blue and stamped USA, I have spent the greater part of the past 10 years, since finishing a degree in English Literature, in Boston, MA, traveling the world in search of mountainous reigons. In 2001 I landed in Chamonix, France with a pair of telemark skis, a limited amount of French, and the desire to learn how to ski. Through my ramblings, transience, car living, dirtbagging, and adventures over the past 10 years I have managed to find my way back to Chamonix every year but one.

Three years ago I qualified as an Aspirant International Mountain Guide allowing me to work and base myself out of Chamonix, France, more than just visit and play. This past spring I passed my final guides exam joining 10,000 other UIAGM certified Mountain Guides, less than 70 women, and becoming the 4th American woman to finish the UIAGM certificaiton process.

More stories to come!
Smiles,
Zoe

PHOTOS: The group photo is of the 12 candidantes from the last day of our Ski Mountaineering Guides exam in Valdez, AK, the other woman in the photo is the Bed and Breakfast Owner.

The second photo, is me bragging with my pin in a way the boys can't, he he he!

Trying ....

2008-07-11T13:21:00.001+01:00

The future depends on what we do in the present.
MAHATMA GANDHI

July 6th

The head said don't run ....
The heart said try ....

I tried. I started, I finished and some miracle was working with me because I defended my title at the Zermatt Marathon for the 3rd year.

I was so happy just to be here in Zermatt amongst the mountains which are so special to me. It must have given my heart extra strength. I was so well looked after by Dany and Felicitas Biner and all at Hotel Silvana - they gave me wonderful support and encouragement. The good wishes of so many people were carrying me. From one hour running a day for maybe two weeks to a half marathon to a marathon? But it worked this time .....

The morning of the marathon I stared up to the Riffelberg from the Silvana - and wondered if and how I might be there that day. Not at all, by train, by walking if I pulled out of the race, or by running?! The power of the mountains here drew me onwards and upwards. And it feels all alright still now - so no damage done I hope. Now for an easy few long days of walking, some running and some mountains if weather permits.....

July 11th

Still here in Zermatt - and the weather has been kind to us this week, although now will turn to rain for the weekend. From Hotel Silvana to the campsite to Monte Rosa Hutte. A wonderful few days in the mountains - almost to the summit of the Doufourspitze of the Monte Rosa. Almost but not quite - a mountain to return to. And then a solitary jaunt along the ridge from Gornergrat to the summit of the Stockhorn. A walk - but a lone summit moment - peace. It was special.

Zermatt, Switzerland

Zermatt Marathon http://www.zermattmarathon.ch

Right to Play: ‘when children play, the world wins’.
http://www.righttoplay.org.uk

Pain and Glory

2008-07-06T22:56:00.008+01:00

Imagine the scene: there I am racing around the Chevy Chase. I'm two thirds of the way round this notorious 20 mile course and I am 15 minutes up on last year's time. The hard terrain of Cheviot and Hedgehope are behind me and I have 8 miles of easy running left. And I feel great. I skip past fellow club runner Maxine who normally drops me easily in training and I am certain that I can make up more time on the remaining course. And then, disaster............stupidly I follow some other runners as they cut a corner across rough ground to reach the track below Langlee Crags. And before I realise just how tussocky the ground is there's that dreaded crack - the noise that every fell runner must fear - the noise that makes you wake up at night in a deep sweat as it invades your dreams. I looked down at a distorted ankle - feeling sick, angry, frustrated, not registering what I am doing I straightened it with another crack. The mind could not accept that it was all over and so I made the one decision no-one should ever make. To continue.
Endorphins are wonderful things - they block out pain in a way that even alcohol never can. With a seriously sprained ankle I kept on going. I even ran most of the way - only stopping to walk the last section of road when running was just too painful. And so I made it to the finish - a mere 2 minutes ahead of last year's time - full of memories of past events and pain and consequences.
There was some glory - a cup for the first local woman - presented by Josh Smith from Salomon, our very generous race sponsors. And today the cup sits in pride of place on the mantelpiece and I am propping up an ankle the size of a small balloon. .............So when will I ever learn.

Getting better .....

2008-07-02T12:52:00.001+01:00

Adventure means risking something, and its only when we are doing that, that we know what a splendid thing life is and how well it can be lived ….
GERBOULT

Bettmeralp … they call it the “better” alp …. and so it was perhaps an apt place for me to go just now when I start to feel that the injury is finally getting better?

So … well …. good and bad news.

Not so bad - but disappointingly I was deferred on my IML (International Mountain Leader Assessment). It wasn’t the best time for me this summer, and I feel I let myself down badly. So now I’m determined to get more group leading experience this coming year and then it will just be a one day test early next summer. It was a long week - assessments of any kind are a strain - even if this one did mean I was on home ground walking in the mountains. But the assessors were great, we were so well looked after at the gite, and some lasting friendships were made I hope.

Now the “better” news …. I was running every morning from St Luc up to Hotel Weisshorn and feeling good. Steep uphills are probably the best thing at the moment?!

So …. Saturday morning I made the snap decision to go to Bettmeralp (in the Valais near Brig, on the north side of the Rhone Valley) and to run in the half marathon the following day. The organisers very kindly accepted my last minute request (!) and so I found myself on that beautiful alp on a beautiful evening, in the company of a good friend also running. I was feeling very uncertain I should run, and convinced myself I’d pull out if I needed to. For once I knew the head had to govern the heart. For such a quiet village we probably slept in the noisiest place - above the village bakery! But what a treat to be somewhere where the bakery is the noisiest place? Fretful sleep and awoke to a beautiful dawn. Breakfasting outside the bakery with the alpine panorama before us, the Matterhorn in all his glory, and just a 2 minute walk to the start of the race. Not often you get such pre-race preparation?!

And so to the race – it is a stunning course. And for me only just getting back into running again after the stress fracture it felt a true privilege just to be there - whether I could finish the race or not. The early kilometres maybe were the hardest. Wondering if I should be running, feeling not so strong as normal …. But no pain or twinge from the pelvis … and it was beautiful … and so I carried on … and on … until the finish. Slower – much slower than I guess I would have been - but 1st lady to my surprise. It was quite something for me even to start the race, let alone to finish. So for me, it was truly special to be there on the Bettmeralp.

Now a few days to catch up with life, staying with a friend in Winterthur. And tomorrow - back to the mountains - to Zermatt. A tough decision - but I think it wouldn’t be wise to run the Zermatt Marathon on Saturday. Perhaps doubling the distance and time in just one week would be asking too much of the injury? But I will go anyway to help. Andrea Schneider (the organiser) is going to welcome me there - whether I run or help - and for that I am so grateful. The heat here in Winterthur is too much … so I’m longing again to be high and in the mountains. I will stay in Zermatt for 10 days or so - perhaps my tent, perhaps a bunkhouse - we will see? I will meet some good friends there, so I hope for the chance of a few mountains as well as some good mountain training.

Vediamo?

WINTERTHUR, SWITZERLAND

Bettmeralp Half Marathon http://www.aletsch-halbmarathon.ch
Zermatt Marathon http://www.zermattmarathon.ch

Right to Play: ‘when children play, the world wins’.
http://www.righttoplay.org.uk

and upwards ....

2008-06-22T17:00:00.001+01:00

The land! That is where our roots are. There is the basis of our physical life. The further we get away from the land, the greater our insecurity.
HENRY FORD

So maybe the mountains are my roots? It feels like home to be back amongst them. This time I lie in my tent - the beauty of a skyline ridge above me, stars in a clear sky. Sleeping in the laps of the gods? For now home is St Luc a quiet village in Val d’Anniviers in the Swiss Valais - preparing for my International Mountain Leader Assessment next week. Fretting …. So this time being ‘home’ is tinged with anxiety …

Since last up high it seems to have been a whirlwind. Dublin via London - to give a talk at the 53 Degrees North store as part of their lecture series. Daunting and humbling to be invited to talk in the wake of icons such as Chris Bonnington. But I was made very welcome and well looked after. A bit astounded by the media interest after countless interviews I felt ‘talked out’ even before my presentation. Ultra and endurance running doesn’t tend to draw huge attention, but people seemed to like what I said. Maybe in someway I gave them something to think about? Back via London and a meeting with Right to Play. I am very happy to support them as one of their Athlete Ambassadors (see link) - afterall when ‘children play, the world wins’. A special day with all the family (rare now that we can all - parents, brothers, sisters, nephews and niece can be together at the same time) and then back again to the Alps.

Ahead - the summer solstice and a meeting in Frankfurt before train back to St Luc and assessment …..

And the running? Just the last day or so it has started to feel more ‘normal’ - will be careful a little while longer - but maybe I’m on the road?

St Luc in the Valais, Switzerland

http://www.righttoplay.org.uk

Destruction

2008-06-15T12:48:00.006+01:00

It takes thousands of years to grow a peat moorland. They grow very slowly at the rate of about 1mm a year. They are home to many rare and specialised organisms that are found nowhere else and it takes centuries for a peat bog to regenerate.

I always thought that National Parks existed to preserve the environment. And yet the pace of development on our local hills here in the Cheviots is relentless. Shooting butts and new tracks are springing up all over the hillsides and the latest outrage is a permanent Range Rover track being constructed up Cheviot itself.

I have nothing against shooting - it conjures up an image of a lone man with his faithful dog tracking in the hills and bagging a brace of grouse for the pot. A time honoured tradition. Sadly today that image is romantic bunkum. The reality is unfit punters paying up to £3000 per head to blast away indiscriminately at everything that moves on the hillside. These are the type of people who think that the countryside is there purely to be exploited. Horror of horrors that they should get their brand new Hunter wellingtons dirty and be made to walk uphill for 20 to 30 minutes. And so the landowners cater for their expectations and build more and more tracks into the hills to drive these people right up to the shooting butts.

And who is left to care about the destroyed habitats? The new road up Cheviot has dug through a known breeding ground for protected adders, a place where I have often spotted adders in early Spring. It seems that the Northumberland National Park Authority is oblivious to the impact on the environment in allowing such a road to be built.

I am not normally a political animal - I would rather be voicing my thoughts on enjoying the outdoors - my latest run in the hills or ride on my bike. But some things annoy you too much - some things are just blatantly wrong. Sometimes you just have to stand up and shout about them.