02:00 am in the morning.
Greg: “Quick, everyone get up! Two climbers went out at
10:30pm to recce for an abseiling location and haven’t returned yet so we’ll
have to do a mountain search. Get warm clothes, a torch and a compass and
whistle; a sleeping bag and bivvy bag between two."
Result? Major panic and everyone (plus the Survey bunch)
down by geomorph, ready and armed within half an hour (apart from Liz who had
sprained her ankle) and rushed fully booted across the torrential river (see
earlier) and up the mountain in groups of three or four having been given our
instructions:
1.
Always have the person on your left in front of
you
2.
Three short blows on whistle for temporary stop,
one to restart and two long ones for an emergency
Well, we walked along and came across the first climber,
Pat: aggressive and swearing and obviously in an ‘advanced state of
hypothermia’. Four went back to base with him, and we continued on, spread down
the hillside searching for the unfortunate climber.
Half way across a fairly impressive scree slope, Woody
developed acute wind and I, being nearest, was selected to escort
him back to camp. Woody, eager to find the climber (what a conversation piece!)
eagerly awaited his discovery (having relieved himself by squatting and
burping), but it seemed unlikely since we were treading on previously surveyed
land.
However, just a little upstream from Life Science (at about
5.00am) I spotted a light blue object and a whistle blow confirmed our
suspicions. Now it was all go! I dashed down to Life Science to find a radio
(having been convinced that the whole lark was a fake due to the total lack of
enthusiasm) and somehow managed to co-ordinate a reception between Alpha (the
others), Lima (us at Life Science) and Base. I went to a vantage point where
both approaching groups might be observed. Mark and John arrived with the
stretcher (by which time I had forgotten the exact location of our victim) but
a whistle blow soon guided us to the unfortunate (but none-the-less very beautiful)
mountaineer.
Woody was exerting his influence in the art of First Aid,
and Dave was doing his bit by simulated vomited, shivering and various other
stages of advanced hypothermia, which had to be treated by us non-experienced
wallies, although we were omitted the pleasure of the
‘two-nudes-in-a-sleeping-bag’ trick. We finally strapped him in and, with me in
lead with the radio (having been called a “garbled female in a state of
hypertension”), the procession led down to the river, whereupon Dave decided he
didn’t want to get wet, and left the stretcher. Nick’s mouth hit the floor,
having not as yet appreciated the little joke. The stretcher party (having now
crossed the river six times) reached geomorph camp, inspected what was left of
our feet, let down Ian and Greg’s tent (Nick and John) and went to sleep.
No early morning (afternoon) tea was provided by the leaders
as they were otherwise engaged, but brunch was underway at least by 12:00, and
little groups set off for their various tasks of river mapping, levelling,
plane tabling etc. as usual.
Came back in the evening from the braided stream to be
accosted by abseilers on the way. So I, armed with size eight welly boots and a
vague fear of heights was pushed up a near vertical rock face for my first
experience of prusiking. Needless to say, I did not shine. However a couple of
minutes’ respite at the top and a loan of a pair of walking boots to replace
wellies, I abseiled down quite successfully and managed up and down much better
again.
Dinner and bed.
