The proof is in the pudding - Jean Clairmonte
After a while you kind of get fed up with ecstatic ravings from climbers. I had
attended a Mountain Skills Course in December and climbed a 3000m peak - woohoo.
Now it was time to find out what a single ascent was about - Mt Aspiring
(3025m).
There are a variety of routes on Aspiring, the North West ridge being the least
technical. The route is accessed from the Bonar glacier by climbing up what is
known as The Ramp. This involves 8 - 9 pitches of climbing on a snow/ ice ramp
that leads onto an open ridge, providing straightforward climbing to the summit.
The South West ridge and North Buttress are options for experienced
mountaineers. The guide ratio is either 1:1 or 1:2 maximum.
Simon Howells is the master motivator - he knew I'd be able to do it - even the
South West Ridge! My ice-climbing skills were minimal, but attitude was
everything!
We flew into Bevan Col on a Thursday morning - the last flight for the day as
the winds were increasing. We set up for glacier travel -- a couple of hours
walk across the Bonar glacier to find a tenting site (see photo above) in a near
white-out under Mt. French. Mark Sedon (guide) and Phil Shearman (client) were
also doing the SW Ridge route with us. It was COLD. Some extra creative
shovelling was in order for warmth. A "throne" was promptly constructed and the
necessary "sunset couch".
After dinner, the four of us discussed the route and alpine start. Phil and I
felt important, we knew our guides had the route already planned and organised.
At 4am I had very little sleep under my belt. I had mentally prepared myself for
a huge day and excitement had won the race with sleep. We left camp in the dark.

Yesterday's cold wind had deep-frozen everything. Conditions were excellent in
our crampons. We started the upward grind. The snow was hard and rimy, and we
had to start pitching. Simon was a bit disappointed. I think he was hoping we
could short-rope to a much higher point.
Once the light opened my eyes, my stomach churned with excitement. The views
were MORE breathtaking than I had ever imagined. What a harsh & rugged alpine
environment we have! Looking up and forward to my day through clenched teeth
seemed to have the same effect - I thought I was starting to "get it".
Along the ridge we were exposed to the strong gusty wind. At times I wondered if
the anchors would keep me pinned to the side of the mountain. Wearing the
correct clothing makes all the difference, it seemed like hours before we
reached the bottom of the couloir. By that stage I knew there was only 150
metres to the summit ridge.
Simon had briefed me on the importance of ensuring each and every axe placement
was secure and that I could "hang" from it. He disappeared over a rimed-rock
(rock coated in thin layer of ice) into the couloir. My breathing became flat as
I readied myself for the steepest, and most challenging part of the climb.
No-one was in my line of sight - the only comfort was the rope tied to my
harness. The wind was "doing my head in" and I desperately commanded it to stop
tormenting me.
The rope tug - it was time to move… with gritted teeth, I removed the ice-screws
and climbed with great difficulty over the rock into the couloir. The riming was
deceitful (it shattered on tool placement), and I could not make the distinction
between a good foothold and a bad one. That's where my "axe hanging" ability
stood the test. You see, I'm a stubborn person, and Simon was not allowed to
drag or help me in any way. I panicked for a moment and talked myself through it
(I was on a rope after all). Looking up into the couloir, I smiled at Simon -
I'm sure he was laughing at me for being stubborn.
Watching Simon lead the couloir pitches, I "got it". He was in his element.
The snow condition just before the summit was deteriorating. Simon had made
knee-deep steps. My legs were SO wobbly, I did not trust myself to climb them,
so Simon short-roped me up the steps !
Once we'd made it to the ridge, it was a short walk to the summit. There were NW
ridge route climbers descending & staring at us strangely as if we'd just
dropped out of the sky.
NO WIND on the summit - I gratefully hugged Simon and told him I had cursed him
on the way up. We spent 10 minutes STARING.
We descended the NW Ridge. It was late afternoon and the snow condition was
elephant snot. Below on the glacier, we roped up and walked back to our
tent-site.
It was approximately 10pm - we walked though the sunset without speaking, only
feeding our senses.
Back at camp we were too tired to cook up a big dinner. We snacked, drank a lake
of water, and claimed 25 pitches up the SW Ridge in an 18 hour day. GOOD ON US !