The mixture of sweat and mange dust tastes in my mouth as I crouch in a small hole, a couple of hundred meters above the ground, hands and feet tightly jammed into the embrace of the crack. A spina bifida wound drips blood onto the white granite, staining it red. The ropes disappear between the legs into the clear depth. I'm lazing around like a dog in the heat of July, my hands are pumped and my body is worn out. No position is good or allows for rest. Above, a vertical hand crack continues to the horizon. I glance at the remaining cams, which are unusually quickly counted: two threes and an assortment of useless finger-sized ones. No sa$#@a!
The battle begins, or actually continues, which was best described by Antti Baugen at the climbing lodge that same evening. When you're beyond exhausted, and you can't squeeze the hand jam together anymore, you have to hit the other hand like an ax and hope it holds. Tsup, tsup, tsup...brain and body need rest, but it is not available. Until the end, Thanatos maintains his mystical essence. It does not want to let go of its companions at the dungeon gates.
In the mists of Baugen.
to Norway
Antti Liukkonen, an honorary member of Mikkeli Työväen Kiipeilijöt and a woodworker, invited me to join him for a two-week visit to Northern Norway. I gladly accepted the ticket to the Thanatos Express, because the area so popular with Finnish climbers was yet to be experienced. The long drive and the attraction of big hills had still held their ground in previous years, but now I decided to give it a chance. The main goal for the trip was to quilt the most important hand crack in Scandinavia, which Antti already had experience with from the previous summer.
As the blue wolkar bounced on Kilpisjärvi's bumpy asphalt, I almost regretted leaving. Backslidden and with crossed eyes, we crawled to the foot of Saana to sleep for a couple of funny hours, before moving to our beloved neighbor's side. Why is the border of the Finnish maiden drawn at the beginning of the mountain range, may I ask?
The second leg led through Lyngen to Tromsa, and from there to the island of Kvaløya. The landscape resembled any small mountain range in the world, but enhanced by the proximity of the sea. We went to Baugen's climbing hut that same afternoon, carrying backpacks that were about to be solved. The hike was a sweaty mess, but I had to carry everything I needed for five days.
The cozy cabin is located a 10-minute walk from the south wall of Baugen, which is the main point of interest, although there are other walls on the side of the mountain. We found gas stoves, running water from a nearby stream, a mini-library, blankets, mattresses, a heating device and basically everything that climbers who came after the cracks need. During the few days we spent at the lodge, we were joined by four different Finnish teams. A funny coincidence indeed!
Alkuun tuikkasimme ultraklassikko “Flygende Hollenderin”, joka tarjosi kyllä 6b:n edestä täyden työpäivän. Aloitusköydenpituutta lukuunottamatta jokaisella pitsillä sai kiivetä ihan tosissaan. Kneebaareja halkeamien väleissä, jännittäviä poikkareita, märkiä osuuksia ja mitä vielä. Napakka ja hieno reitti greidilleen. Sumuinen keli saattoi tehdä graniitin pinnasta hieman kostean, mutta se ei mieltä madaltanut. Leppoisa pultattu laskeutumislinja kruunasi vielä päivän. Reititkin ovat sopivan mittaisia 250 metrillään. Ei kerkeä tossut painaa liikaa!
Thanatos himself was chosen as the next route.
Liisa and Suvi returning to the lodge at the end of the climbing day.
Flygende Hollander is an excellently clear line, but sometimes you have to look around the corner.
Baugen and climbing hut are a great combination. With good luck, the clouds hang over the valleys, providing excellent conditions for high altitude climbing.
Thanatos
At the top of Baugen's south wall is a hanging pillar split by one and only crack. Glowing, feared and setting fire to the eyes. The line was commissioned in 1980 and released the next day by Doseth's team.
Baugen can be steep.
Thursday morning was bright and sunny, as we climbed more or less along the original line, three rope lengths to the stand, where the actual action and enjoyment of the route begins. Just as a tip, Flygende Hollender is a hundred times better approach than the ensinousu line, which contained good, but also unpleasant sections.
Antti had connected the leading 6+ under the crux earlier, so the lead clicked for me. Rhythmic jamming led upwards until the crack turned wet. Is this all there is to it? A pure layback portion without alternative facial shots. Fortunately, there was a couple of centimeters of dry strip on the outer edge of the gap that you could grab onto. I started to jerk my legs upwards with friction. Going into a thriller turned into a thriller when I realized that it's kind of impossible to put on piss. The tip of the right slipper got wet when I forcefully crushed it to crack. Worse, because now at least you couldn't put the stuff without falling. The beach was about to get too big when I was looking for a saving flek, which luckily turned out to be a place for a stand. Antti followed nicely right away. So the game was still on, but mental and physical resources had now been wasted.
At the stand, I limped under the jammy gloves, taped the rubber bands tightly to my wrists, put the rack on the last one and threw the shirt away. And so the on-sight company started.
After an indeterminate amount of time, I was doing a push-up on a length of rope, completely exhausted. I didn't shout for joy of victory with a parched throat, but I fixed one of the ropes as a descent line along which I rappelled to secure Ant's attempt. I was feeling better, no matter how much I tried not to put pressure on myself before taking the lead. It's strange how difficult it is to climb casually when you really want something. Sometimes it works.
The feeling wasn't completely zen yet, because Antti still had to take care of the rope. When the man left, I was a little worried about the conditions of the broadcast, because now the sun was already shining. Hanging on the hanging bench for a long time hardly helped the performance either. Savon raised his steady progress, sure to be paced by occasional grunts. It was not possible to conclude from the movement that the same kind of war was going on there as in the moment before. After all, Antti received a shout of success that echoed off the walls of Baugen. When removing the safety device, the feeling was at least as good as after the performance itself. We climbed Thanatos!
Looking back now, the route was hardly the most difficult to reach its grade, but certainly one of the finest, if not the finest length of rope that has been climbed on the rock. The mystique of the routes fades with every shot and every written word, but on the other hand, they bring the lines to the consciousness of more people, which is great. A double-edged sword, like many things in climbing.
Juho with Thanatos 6+ section. A thriller. Photo: Suvi Raatikainen
Antti halkeaman kimpussa. Sijainti on vähintäänkin välttävä. 😉 Kuva: Suvi Raatikainen
Without a silhouette
In the following days, the clouds brought rain and humidity to Baugen. Beer and sausage were rushed from the valley to the road of melancholic days. The Climbing World Cup and the World Cup in football merged into one and the same, with the rotting pages of age-old climbing magazines. The members were hoarse, and waking up soaking wet from the sleeping bag in the wee hours of the morning did not, in my opinion, speak of anything out of the ordinary summer flu. The stock of burana was dwindling faster than the food. Should have listened more closely to the sculpting of the body.
Having two rest days gathered enthusiasm for one more route. The Silhuetten line managed to bring a few pleasant climbing sections, but compared to the other two tracks we climbed, it was a clear disappointment. Three routes in the back pocket told about the time to change the landscape from the barren, beautiful north to the greenery of Lofoten.
The Lofoten Islands
Yr.no had a good laugh when they promised clear weather and a zero percent chance of rain, when the humidity hovered around ninety. The front of the car seemed to turn towards the heat of Niemiseli before its time. The members numbed by camping in the truck park were refreshed by a coffee stop in idyllic Henningsvær. Fortunately, we calmed down, because it cleared up in the afternoon and we were able to climb from Jomfupilar in Vårkåt (N7). Three rope lengths of impossibly fun climbing.
A small taste of the beauty of Lofoten.
Antti pulls the length of Vårkåt's rope. Great route!
The next day it was the turn of Presten's Vestpillar Direct, with the Original Avslutting exit of course. The approaches don't go terribly well when it takes ten minutes to walk to the 500-meter wall from the car. Arnaud Petit and his client were already slobbering under the wall, so we didn't get a pole position. That's good, because the gentlemen lost among the släbki at such a speed that the manka just laughed. It could have been caused by the freezing cold wind that whipped us upwards from Storhylla. We climbed in shell and down jackets and it was still cold. Neither of them could complain about sweaty knuckles, because they could barely feel their fingers from time to time.
A very cryptic turn below Slanting Corner to the left led us to the original Vespillaren exit, which was clearly better than the other route. Dihedral splicing at its best!
Presten and that more cheerful stuffing.
From the top, we walked back to the seaside along a relatively airy path. Antti had gone out in the dark once before last fall, getting sadly lost. Of course, this time things would go well in the light of day, having learned from mistakes. Well, one young gentleman's advance was not factored into the equation. Suddenly it was taken to open a new exit route on a sufficiently steep grassy slope. It is worth going uphill at the junction of the ridges. Not towards the pass!!
Palelu with Presten didn't really cure my disease, but rather made it worse. While running around in a fever, the world didn't look very sunny, even though the surroundings were perhaps the most beautiful I had come across during my travels. I understand very well those who return to Lofoten year after year. After all, it's a nice place to spend your summer vacation. I still don't understand the Kalle ranta thing. It could also be due to illness, but in the future you will have to look elsewhere for accommodation on the magic islands. At least if it's midsummer in traffic.
We returned home a day early so that I could get the antibiotics and rest I needed for what turned out to be pneumonia. A harsh lesson on why you shouldn't play sports when you're sick. Of course, the spring mold exposure was now behind me, which was certainly connected behind this illness as well. The first visit to Northern Norway still left a nice feeling. Winter climbing has yet to be experienced in the area, and the north face of Storpillare or Blåmannen didn't look like owls at all.
Paradiset's boulders are so big that the men of the plains like to tie a rope to their harness. Antti on the Dosethrisset route.