Tuesday, August 16, 2011
The use of going up there ....
"The question 'What is the use of going up there?' has never been better answered than by Tschudi: 'It is the feeling of spiritual power that glows in him, and drives him to overcome the dead horrors of nature; it is the charm of measuring the power peculiar to man, the infinite capacity of an intelligent will, against the rough opposition of dust; it is the holy impulse to seek out, in the service of the everlasting science of the earth's life and framework, for the mysterious connection of all creation; it is perhaps the longing of the lord of the earth to place the seal on his consciousness of a relationship to the infinite, by a bold, free deed, on the last conquered height, looking round on the world lying at his feet.'"
From Chapter XXIV Alpine Summits of The Alps; or, Sketches of Life and Nature in the Mountains, by Hermann Alexander von Berlepsch, translated by Leslie Stephen (London 1861)
Friday, July 16, 2010
Climate change indicator
16 April: on our way into the Gauli glacier area, on a ski-mountaineering trip, we had to cross the Bächlilücke, a rocky col between two glaciers. This involves climbing three sets of ladders on the east side (see photo) and downclimbing an even greater distance to the glacier on the western side. In 1980, the guidebook says, you could still walk over this col on snow, without taking your skis off....
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Ash Saturday
First photos of the Eyjafjallajökull volcanic ash in Swiss airspace? Maybe...
Saturday, 17 April: solo ski-tour to the Wildhorn (3248 m), the highest peak of the Wildhorn group in the Bernese Alps, topping out early afternoon. (OK, so we were slow.) This was the day that the volcanic ash from Eyjafjallajökull was predicted to reach Swiss airspace. Indeed, to the southwest of the peak, faint cloud bands were visible in the sky (above the low-level cumulus). Was that the ash? I sent these images to MeteoSuisse for their opinion but, so far, unfortunately, no reply ....
View from Wildhorn summit
Detail with enhanced contrast
On Monday and Tuesday the following week, Zurich was treated to smoky skies and moderately spectacular sunrises:-
References
Report on MeteoSuisse website about the ash cloud's arrival in Swiss airspace (German only)
Saturday, 17 April: solo ski-tour to the Wildhorn (3248 m), the highest peak of the Wildhorn group in the Bernese Alps, topping out early afternoon. (OK, so we were slow.) This was the day that the volcanic ash from Eyjafjallajökull was predicted to reach Swiss airspace. Indeed, to the southwest of the peak, faint cloud bands were visible in the sky (above the low-level cumulus). Was that the ash? I sent these images to MeteoSuisse for their opinion but, so far, unfortunately, no reply ....
View from Wildhorn summit
Detail with enhanced contrast
On Monday and Tuesday the following week, Zurich was treated to smoky skies and moderately spectacular sunrises:-
References
Report on MeteoSuisse website about the ash cloud's arrival in Swiss airspace (German only)
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Like a great ring
From alpinist/physicist John Tyndall's "Expedition of 1856" to the Bernese Oberland:-
We descended to the glacier and proceeded towards its source. As we advanced an unusual light fell upon the mountains, and looking upwards we saw a series of coloured rings, drawn like a vivid circular rainbow quite round the sun. Between the orb and us spread a thin veil of cloud on which the circles were painted; the western side of the veil soon melted away, and with it the colours, but the eastern half remained a quarter of an hour longer, and then in its turn disappeared."
Sun haloes and sun dogs can be seen anywhere in the world, but they seem to be especially frequent in the Bernese Oberland. Often they are associated with the veil clouds that come in ahead of a warm front. Here are two from this spring.
Bächlital, April, with circumzenithal arc at the top of the picture
Wildgärst, February
References
Tyndall quotation from John Tyndall, The Glaciers of the Alps & Mountaineering in 1861, published by Everyman, 1906, reprinted 1911
Related post: Marcel Minnaert's Light and Colour in the Outdoors
We descended to the glacier and proceeded towards its source. As we advanced an unusual light fell upon the mountains, and looking upwards we saw a series of coloured rings, drawn like a vivid circular rainbow quite round the sun. Between the orb and us spread a thin veil of cloud on which the circles were painted; the western side of the veil soon melted away, and with it the colours, but the eastern half remained a quarter of an hour longer, and then in its turn disappeared."
Sun haloes and sun dogs can be seen anywhere in the world, but they seem to be especially frequent in the Bernese Oberland. Often they are associated with the veil clouds that come in ahead of a warm front. Here are two from this spring.
Bächlital, April, with circumzenithal arc at the top of the picture
Wildgärst, February
References
Tyndall quotation from John Tyndall, The Glaciers of the Alps & Mountaineering in 1861, published by Everyman, 1906, reprinted 1911
Related post: Marcel Minnaert's Light and Colour in the Outdoors
Blüemberg revisited
Rediscovery of a ski-touring classic in central Switzerland
February 13: Ho hum, it's Blüemberg again. You decide to tag along because your friends suggested it, but you've been there before and you couldn't remember much that was interesting about it. You got up at 5am in the grey city and you dragged your ski-touring kit down to the station to get the 6-something train. Then a little cable-car takes you above the fog deck - and what is this place? That has to be the Lidernen hut, but never did it look like this before...
Lucky you accepted the invitation, or you would have missed out on the drumlin terrain ...
... the sleeping hummocks (what's under that snow?)....
... the view opening out as you climb higher...
... that noonday climb towards the cirrus...
... the view out over forever ...
... somewhere there was a summit ...
... then skiing down past this misplaced mesa ...
... but, no, we must still be in Switzerland.
Turning down that invitation would have been a mistake. Thanks, Andreas...
February 13: Ho hum, it's Blüemberg again. You decide to tag along because your friends suggested it, but you've been there before and you couldn't remember much that was interesting about it. You got up at 5am in the grey city and you dragged your ski-touring kit down to the station to get the 6-something train. Then a little cable-car takes you above the fog deck - and what is this place? That has to be the Lidernen hut, but never did it look like this before...
Lucky you accepted the invitation, or you would have missed out on the drumlin terrain ...
... the sleeping hummocks (what's under that snow?)....
... the view opening out as you climb higher...
... that noonday climb towards the cirrus...
... the view out over forever ...
... somewhere there was a summit ...
... then skiing down past this misplaced mesa ...
... but, no, we must still be in Switzerland.
Turning down that invitation would have been a mistake. Thanks, Andreas...
Friday, February 13, 2009
The perfect mountain day
Recipe for a congenial late-season ascent of the Gross Spannort
Set out from the Swiss Alpine Club's Kroenten hut before dawn ....
... be well on your way to the col before the sun comes up ...
... so that you get your first view of the mountain at sunrise.
On the way across the glacier ....
... to the start of the first pitch.
Like Everest, the Spannort has three rock steps ...
... but it's customary to climb without oxygen masks.
Summit rocks
Summit cross
Encountering the Roeti Dolomite on the way to Engelberg
Stopping for refreshment at the SAC Spannort hut
Prayer flags give a Himalayan ambience without the bother of actually going there
We overtook an elderly couple coming back from the hut - bless thee, ancient chronicles.
Set out from the Swiss Alpine Club's Kroenten hut before dawn ....
... be well on your way to the col before the sun comes up ...
... so that you get your first view of the mountain at sunrise.
On the way across the glacier ....
... to the start of the first pitch.
Like Everest, the Spannort has three rock steps ...
... but it's customary to climb without oxygen masks.
Summit rocks
Summit cross
Encountering the Roeti Dolomite on the way to Engelberg
Stopping for refreshment at the SAC Spannort hut
Prayer flags give a Himalayan ambience without the bother of actually going there
We overtook an elderly couple coming back from the hut - bless thee, ancient chronicles.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Fujisan-ki (富士山記)
Translation from a modern Japanese version of the full original kanbun text by Miyako no Yoshika
Mt Fuji is in the province of Suruga. The peak is sculpted as if by a sword-blade and soars up until it touches the sky. Its height is immeasurable. There is no higher mountain, as you will see if look through this or that written record. This soaring peak rises out of thick forests and seems to touch the edge of heaven, towering over the ocean.
The base of this extraordinary mountain extends for thousands of leagues, so that travellers must journey for several days until they have passed it by. Even then, when they look back, they are still at the mountain’s foot.
This must be a place where hermits disport themselves. As I’ve heard, during the Shōwa era (834-848), pearls and jewels rolled down from the mountain, each jewel with a little hole through it. These were probably beautiful gems that once adorned the reed screen of a hermit’s cell.
On November 5th, in the 17th year of Jōgan (876), the officials and people were celebrating a festival in accordance with an ancient rite when, as the day wore on towards noon, the sky cleared wonderfully. Looking up towards the mountain, they saw how two beautiful maidens robed in white danced above the summit, seemingly a foot or more above it. Several local people saw it; a very old man passed on the tale.
Mt Fuji takes its name from that of the district. Its deity is the Great God Asama. As for its height, it rises so far above the clouds that nobody knows how high it is. The summit is flat and about a league across. It is sunken in the middle, in shape like a rice-steaming pot (koshiki). At the bottom of this pot, there is a mysterious lake and in the middle of the lake, a large rock. The rock is strangely shaped, just like a crouching tiger. Vapour rises incessantly from the crater. The lake’s colour is a pure and deep blue. If one looks into the crater, it’s as if the water is seething. Looking from afar, one often sees smoke and flames too.
That summit pond is ringed with bamboo, which is a lush green and pliable. The snow never melts in spring or summer. Below the middle of the mountain grow small pine trees, but there are no trees above that level, only white ash. People can climb the mountain to its middle level, but it’s impossible to go further because of the ash which is always slipping downwards. It is said that En-no-gyōja once climbed the mountain but, after that, everybody has stopped at the middle level.
A great spring issues from the lower part of the mountain, which feeds a large river. The flow of water never varies, in hot season or in cold or in drought. At the eastern foot of Mt Fuji is a small mountain, which the local people call the new mountain. Originally this was flat ground, but in March of the 21st year of Enryaku (803) black smoke and steam came churning up and, after 10 days, the new mountain was formed. Probably a god created it.
Back to main article: Journey to the centre of Mt Fuji
Mt Fuji is in the province of Suruga. The peak is sculpted as if by a sword-blade and soars up until it touches the sky. Its height is immeasurable. There is no higher mountain, as you will see if look through this or that written record. This soaring peak rises out of thick forests and seems to touch the edge of heaven, towering over the ocean.
The base of this extraordinary mountain extends for thousands of leagues, so that travellers must journey for several days until they have passed it by. Even then, when they look back, they are still at the mountain’s foot.
This must be a place where hermits disport themselves. As I’ve heard, during the Shōwa era (834-848), pearls and jewels rolled down from the mountain, each jewel with a little hole through it. These were probably beautiful gems that once adorned the reed screen of a hermit’s cell.
On November 5th, in the 17th year of Jōgan (876), the officials and people were celebrating a festival in accordance with an ancient rite when, as the day wore on towards noon, the sky cleared wonderfully. Looking up towards the mountain, they saw how two beautiful maidens robed in white danced above the summit, seemingly a foot or more above it. Several local people saw it; a very old man passed on the tale.
Mt Fuji takes its name from that of the district. Its deity is the Great God Asama. As for its height, it rises so far above the clouds that nobody knows how high it is. The summit is flat and about a league across. It is sunken in the middle, in shape like a rice-steaming pot (koshiki). At the bottom of this pot, there is a mysterious lake and in the middle of the lake, a large rock. The rock is strangely shaped, just like a crouching tiger. Vapour rises incessantly from the crater. The lake’s colour is a pure and deep blue. If one looks into the crater, it’s as if the water is seething. Looking from afar, one often sees smoke and flames too.
That summit pond is ringed with bamboo, which is a lush green and pliable. The snow never melts in spring or summer. Below the middle of the mountain grow small pine trees, but there are no trees above that level, only white ash. People can climb the mountain to its middle level, but it’s impossible to go further because of the ash which is always slipping downwards. It is said that En-no-gyōja once climbed the mountain but, after that, everybody has stopped at the middle level.
A great spring issues from the lower part of the mountain, which feeds a large river. The flow of water never varies, in hot season or in cold or in drought. At the eastern foot of Mt Fuji is a small mountain, which the local people call the new mountain. Originally this was flat ground, but in March of the 21st year of Enryaku (803) black smoke and steam came churning up and, after 10 days, the new mountain was formed. Probably a god created it.
Back to main article: Journey to the centre of Mt Fuji
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