Day Thirteen - Up onto the Ice

Rose early as intended and were in the bus and loaded by 10.30am. The first bus load was taking the two ski groups as far up the glacier as possible (via a dry road) to start our walk up to the snow cap.

About 5km from there, the driver decided that the road was no longer negotiable so we loaded our rucksacks onto the land rover and followed behind with our skis/ Half way up we met the land rover on the way down, and 10 of us (and driver) were taken to the point where the glacier started.

We offloaded the land rover and on loaded ourselves with our skis in the most interesting and most lethal positions....

... and started up the, only fairly dry, ice - sans crampons or ropes, with only crampons to help us along. 

After about 1.5 hours (and a very sore back) crossing crevasses and supra-glacial streams., we saw the snow cap, and the ski-2 group having had lunch and donning skis. So having reached that point, sustained ourselves on meagre cheese rations and a hunk of bread, we waxed up and……

I may have been one of the only young explorers to have X-country skied before, but I was about the worst. A total lack of grip and a constant tendency to slide sideways, reduced morale and confidence to an all-time low. However time was short, as well as rations, and there was a dump to reach, so we set off uphill, Myself bringing up a very sorry rear.

Sam dropped back when my ankle (heel) became unbearable and took my mind off it by playing Fizz-Buzz and associations (which tended to begin and end with “snow”!). We started running along the Grimsvatn group who were progressively sinking deeper into the snow. 

After about 3 hours (6pm), the snow cat course we were following changed course sharply to the left, but we followed the tracks made by the ski-2 group since we assumed it was merely in order to avoid a crevasse (which Richard actually fell into but stuck due to his rucksack and skis). 

About 1.5 hours later, we began to climb a step hill having still not run into the snow cat tracks. Visibility was about 50m and Rob and I were having serious difficulty getting up the sloped. Finally we picked up our skis and walked in the tracks of the walkers. Soon a gathering of the clans emerged from the mist, and morale gradually rose as the order to pitch was given. 

Flattening the tent pitch

A small terrace had to be formed and flattened with feet, shovels and karrimat-bivvy bag rolling pins and snow piled up on the fly-sheet apron.

Rations were severely limited and in our case, ran to a Mars bar (or fudge) each, tea, and one cup of hot chocolate. Sanitary functions were cold with a long Cagjac as the only means of maintaining one’s posterity.

In the fading light, our day ended on a foggy hillside, short of rations, with tents itched amongst standing skis and poles and no definite location of the dump. However reassurance was given by the fact that three parties were present, including numerous leaders and our commandant, Ray Ward.