Rock weekend

In lack of partners in on the Scandinavian climbing scene I responded to a random internet call-out from a “hi I am Billy No-mate, anyone fancy going to Hægefjell and climb for a couple of days. Have gear no car”. I took the chance and responded, and early Sunday morning I picked up Billy No-mate, who’s name was Kristian, for the 10hour drive to Norway at a crag close to Rjukan. Two other internet nomads had joined to the trip to save on fuel and other costs, so the car was fully loaded with gear, random dudes and a shared love of rock. Quite a gamble!

Weather was wet and pissing down but the forecast was sunny and warm so we counted on this and we drove northwards through Sweden. 

Through car chatting it was clear that these were all young dudes making me FOR THE FIRST TIME appear as an old fossil. It was also clear that they were total rock addicts and the two dudes who joined (Bjørn and Kjeld) had been to the place once before. So plenty of beta to toss around the car and make the drive feel really short. 

We arrived at Hagefjell and it is brilliant. Absolute beautiful spot and a superb camp ground next to a river (with pure drinking water) and with the 600 meter granite wall rising straight up from the base. Amazing. A bit like Camp 4 in Yosemite. The dudes were all über into camping and equipment narging and it was a lot of fun seeing and hearing the younger breeds discussing the latest and greatest in gear and then realizing that most of my still actively used gear is 30 years old. Fossilized. 

Kristian was a total dude. A real rock narg and reminded me in many ways of Martin Beale. He was well into being prepared for the climb - which I really like. He was well versed in rock around the world, and had even taken his initiation course in Stanage, England! A grit kid. He had just returned from climbing in New Zealand and was in between his batchelor and master in engineering. His camping style reminded me of Tim. He was into ultra ultra light weight and had this tent that was dependent on a pair of waking sticks for its structure. To cut weight. 500 grams in totalt and a miserable little shelter. I loved it. And whereas me and the two more weighty dudes had brought stoves and stuff for cooking (the place is 45 minutes from the nearest town), Kristian didn’t need cooking gear. “Weighs too much and is unnecessary, and cooking takes time from climbing”. He had brought canned stuff and nuts and ate this for 3 full days. While we were munching away on lushly cooked stews he sat and ate from his can with a spoon gazing up at the rock face or in the guidebook. What a dude. Younger version of yourselves!! 

The climbing was brilliant. We started out with a slabby VS that got us 400 meters up a monster slab, and tests your nerves and toes all the way. Bolted belays thank god. Went clean and was a perfect route to form a subsequent climbing partnership and push the boat out for the day: 

Hægar 9 pitches E1, 505 meters. Scorching sun. It was like Yosemite. Brilliant route unfortunately the crux in the roof pitch was soaking wet from the days of rain earlier. As it was my lead, I took a quick French alpine decision and pulled on the big fat friend I had in the roof and got up with plenty of huffing and puffing. Kristian, though clearly not impressed, approved of my executive decision in the interest of speed (we were getting roasted in the sun, no water) and he 2nded it clean himself. Excellent style. We topped out after 6 hours of brilliant climbing. All trad including the belays. Not one single piece of in-situ gear. 

Last day was dedicated to Mot Sola and we woke up feeling totally roasted from the day before. Or at least Kristian pretended to to make me feel better. We still felt we had to give the mot sola classic a try (9 pitches HVS) and headed up the initial solo slab traverse which was utterly terrifying. We got to the base of the route in already baking sun but at least bringing supplies and water this time. I won the lead of the first pitch up some broken wet chimney. Though it was familiar territory I wasn’t feeling the yoor but eventually I got up to the first hard bit of the route which wais was a broken roof with tons of good just and gear placement but alas soaking wet. I made a stance. Kristian joined me and investigating the roof from the stance (or maybe he just looked at the state of his old fossil of a partner) we decided to bail out as the route had more serious stuff coming up further up and with no option at that stage to retreat without a major fuss. We were zapped and rappelled a donated sling and got back to the ground safely.