Day 1: Joe Goes Up

Starting off fairly early from our departure point in Kandestag, we set out on a good and enjoyable pace through the valley. The scenery around us is absolutely breath-taking, as we pick our way through lush green trees surrounded by towering mountains. This was very exciting for me; I'd never walked amongst such high mountains before and it felt quite humbling. Seeing the huge snow-tipped peaks around us that we would be climbing in the next few days was a little intimidating, but inspirational also. We rise gently but increasingly up and out of the valleys, and before long we’re at the point where trees no longer grow due to the thin air.

Starting out from the picturesque village of Kandestag

Trekking up through the valleys

After a while we pass some fellow trekkers, who tell us to take care on the scree slope ahead, as large boulders had been falling down that morning. A scree slope is basically a slope covered in loose rocks and boulders, which have a tendency to roll themselves down the mountain. When we arrive at the slope, our guide Paul points out the snow at the top of the towering scree slope, and explains why this is so dangerous. As the snow heats up and melts throughout the day, sections of it break away and slide down the mountain, bringing rocks and boulders with it. Most of these rocks range in size from a football to a 32” TV (the old kind, not the flatscreens!), although many are the size of cars. Some are the size of caravans, and we see one that is literately the size of a two story house! Paul tells us these are not long down from the mountain, and advises that this would be a “very bad place to stop and take a picnic” (people do!!) We must cross the scree slope as quickly as possible, and we’re casually told to keep an eye out for avalanches.

“But what do we do if we see an avalanche?” someone asks. 

“Decide which way to run” explains Paul in a matter-of-fact tone. He isn’t joking. We hurry across the slope at an uncomfortably fast pace; all of us nervously keeping two eyes out for avalanches.

The scree slope lies ahead

Some of the boulders are literally the size of houses!

Hurrying up the death slope

Finally off the dreaded scree slope

After what seems like an age, we’re finally off the death slope and back onto the safety of the path. After a while we stop for a much needed lunch break of sandwiches and chocolate. We’re not used to the walking or the weight of our bags yet, and are well ready for a break. I find myself unable to catch my breath in the thin air, and understand how it must feel to be asthmatic. From our lunch position we can see the glacier that we must cross to reach our hut. As is always the case in the mountains, there is absolutely no sense of scale, so the glacier doesn’t look very big from here.

Stopping for a much needed lunch break

Above the tree line - the air is starting to get thin now! 

The Glacier looks small from here

Me standing infront of the valley we have just trekked through

The walk down to the glacier is quite challenging, as we have to regularly cross steep and slippery snow slopes. Finally we arrive at the base, and feel the freezing air rising from the frozen lake. Paul explains that this is a wet glacier, meaning it’s covered in snow. This is the dangerous kind; all glaciers are riddled with huge cracks and crevasses, which can be up to 500ft deep. On a wet glacier you can’t see these cracks as they’re covered in snow. Paul explains that most of the time the snow is thick enough to take our weight, and reassuringly points out that he’s “only gone down a crevasse a couple of times.” Nothing to be concerned about then. To be on the safe side, we all rope up together, so if one person goes down a crevasse, the other 6 in the group will theoretically be able to catch them. With our newly attached crampons on our feet, we ascend onto the glacier.

Roping up and getting a safety briefing from our guide Paul

Ready to go with my Ice Axe

Paul leads the way as we ascend the wet glacier

After several exhausting hours of walking over the glacier, we finally spot our hut in the distance, with a helicopter parked out front. This target spurs us on with a new wave of energy, until we realise with nothing but snow between us and the hut to mark a scale, it doesn’t appear to be getting any bigger. A long time later and it still isn’t any bigger, the group is getting tired. Other than Paul of course, who despite having a cold, soldiers on up the glacier without difficulty, like a machine. We later questioned whether he was perhaps the terminator, a robot sent back in time to guide us up the mountain.  

Trekking over the glacier is long and hard! Here Jason is in the front, followed by Ross, Ian, Nicola and Chrissie.

Finally after what really feels like an eternity, we reach the helicopter. A final stretch and rocky scrabble later and we stagger into the hut at an altitude of 2900 metres, where a small boy is waiting for us with a tray full of warm juice (I don't think it was very nice, but at that point I would have happily consumed anything). It wasn’t quite Heidi with her bars of Toblerone, but it would have to do. The lady who worked in the hut explained that the boy didn't live at this hut, he was the neighbours boy. We accepted this casual fact without question, although later over dinner it occurred to us that "the neighbours" were probably an 8 hour trek away, and it wasn't really a case of simply "popping over" to the next door hut. 

Paul posing infront of the supply helictoper

Stopping to catch our breath

I didn’t really know what to expect of the huts, and had envisioned something of a hunters cabin, not much more than walls, a roof and a fireplace. I was pleasantly surprised to find a three-story brick building perched half way up a glacier! The hut was quite basic, but it did have a fully functioning kitchen, powered by solar panels, and several cooks. The huts are supplied by helicopter so in bad weather the people that work in the hut are stranded there, unless they fancy a long walk. We’d climbed nearly 2000 metres today, twice the height of mt Snowdon, and walked for about 9 hours - I’d never felt so exhausted in my life! This was the highest altitude I had ever been at, and it was about three hours before my breath returned.  

The Mutthorn hut - our home for the night

After a hearty three-course dinner, we sat and rested and watched the sun set over the mountains as the clouds rolled in, it was beautiful.

Sunset over the hut

The evening clouds roll in to the mountains

The view was magical

Despite being physically exhausted I didn’t sleep well that night, partly due to still struggling to breath normally, and partly because I needed the toilet but couldn’t be bothered to make the journey to the outside toilet huts where the temperature had now dropped to below zero.