By Mathias
27 March 2018 / Mathias, John /*** Mindblower
My new friend John and I hooked up realising that this was it, if I was to climb The Undertaker before the ice started to melt. I heard about The Undertaker last year and badly wanted to visit this mother of an ice climb. Arguably the most significant ice fall of southern Scandinavia and definitely the one with the coolest name. Rjukan? - ?the center of Northern Scandinavian ice in Norway? - has many ice falls, and many of them with catastrophically uninspiring titles: I have climbed routes up there that are true beauties and which goes by names like "Unnamed 2", "Funny Ice Screw" and "The Bulge". Even some of the most popular classics have names like "Kitchen Stairs" or simply "Top". Not really there to sell itself. In sharp contrast to The Undertaker.
So we set out from Gothenburg in a disappearing sun with 1.5 hours drive ahead of us, guaranteed darkness on arrival. It was the only time we could find in our calendar so the decision was to go and do it in the dark with head torches. John had climbed the route before and several times this season, so I felt in efficient hands as we set out on the nocturnal quest. As we parked the car on a dark forrest road and racked up and started the short 500 meter hike I was as excited as ever.
And there she was The Undertaker looming at the end of the forrest track in an old Quarry, the top hidden in quiet darkness and disappearing into the starry sky. She looked majestic and scary in the light of our headlamps as we approach the foot of the ice. Strewn sharp boulders guarded her base poking out sharply through the base of soft snow. Not a sound was to be heard, which for us ment that she probably was in stable condition and wasn't in the process of melting. At the car we had measured minus 3 degrees which was a perfect temperature to attempt this .
As if going to a funeral, our voices were low while shortly discussing tonights plan. I was sh*t scared, so I politely suggested to John that if would like to lead I could hold his ropes and come up second. It was a different way of saying: "John I am shitting myself how about you?". But John was in a different mental space? - where I saw limitations, he saw opportunities. And he had already decided in advance: climbing was on and he was on for taking on the intimidating lead. What a dude.
We sorted out the ropes and gear and before I was able to voice any concerns John was heading up the steep right wall of the 35 meter beast of a climb. It was really eery? - we could't see the top, and I could not see much of John: only the light of his head torch and the sound of his axes and crampons working their way up the ice. After a good 8 meters of climbing, John stopped and placed his first screw. I shouted a bit of encouragement and was trying to gauge his mood, but John was in a different zone. It was him vs The Undertaker. Screw placed and he continued. Up and up it went, only a frequent "Big Ice!" was shouted to warn me about blocks of very large ice lumps coming down. The sort of size that would take you out for good regardless of helmets or other protective measures. The falling debris was a good few meters from me though so I was quite comfortable watching the show from the side and was starting to enjoy the night spectacle - ?John was totally in to it and, though a few times he hesitated and shouted "no sure I am liking the look of this", he went on and worked his way beautifully and steadily up the vertical sea of ice.
After what felt like a good hour John shouted "I'm at the tree you can take me off". Yeah baby! He had done it. I was totally excited. I was on the blunt end and I knew if would go. I quickly sorted my gear out and John shouted "Climb on" or whatever it is the americans tend to shout? - ?we could barely hear each other because of the distance.
I climbed up and enjoyed swinging the axes and banging the crampons once again. And climbing this on an after work climb! Not many places you can do this. But it was steep! And I couldn't see a thing. Though the head torch was on full beam, it was really difficult to see the foot placement properly and looking ahead more than a meter was impossible. I had the rope and line of ice screws to follow so route finding was obvious, but I was impressed with Johns lead here? - climbing up in such a wild terrain without an overview of where to go was really cutting edge.
I reached the first screw and felt I was now well on my way. The ice was amazing. Totally different than what I have been used to in Rjukan or the Alps: huge chandeliers, cauliflower shapes and the most amazing ice petals was everywhere to be hooked and chopped and carefully negotiated on the way up. I realised that from the massive blocks of ice that had come down during Johns lead, that this stuff also needed care on the blunt end. I also needed to be attentive to the rope above me as it could easily snap off a hanging ice stalagmite which would then come silently flying down towards me. This and also the fact that the actual climbing was really delicate, steep and hard work, had me on my toes the whole time. It was a pure beauty though.
Half way or so (it was extremely difficult to judge distance) I was spanked and there weren't any rest places. I badly wanted to climb it clean - both in respect of Johns amazing effort and also because of the pure clean tick. But I was not sure it would go. Several places I had to commit completely to one axe and get a high step up over overhanging bulges of ice. It was scary and hard work. But it went. Slowly and steadily. And eventually I realised the top was in sight. Eventually I reached the lip of the ice and could see the dim light of Johns head torch in the near distance. Chop, chop and a high step and I was at the top. What a feeling. I was spanked and happy.
