Arrived in the afternoon and got keys from gasthof. Fridge full of other people's beer sadly. Picked up Philip S from the station and set up outside tarp and bier tent. Bier tent missing it's door ATM with a tarp rigged instead??????? Where has it gone ? Who knows?????? Gas hose fell off burner whilst cooking dinner, large plume of flame in bier tent but crisis averted
I was walking into town from the station (from Vienna this morning) when I was intercepted by Charlotte and taken shopping at the big Billa, thence to [otato hut, nerding etc. Hot day, sunny,not rain.
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<divclass="triptitle">topcamp - First visit to top camp</div>
Charlotte, James W and Jacob C going for a first carry to top camp to look at amount of snow etc., departed Gasthof at 11:00 expected back about 20:00. They are not taking the new top camp tarp up this time - it weighs 21 kg.
Carried the new tarp up to top camp today (25KG bag) rigged the tarp reasonably well. Water collection is started but needs rain. Storage cave emptied and some bits dried out.
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<p>Image of the path to top camp from Homecoming</p>
<p>The walk from Homecoming to the col was actually surprisingly pleasant and easier than the one from top camp. It could definitely become a trade route in the future.</p>
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I got an early lift up with Charlotte and went off on my own to check out <ahref="/1623/228/228.html">1623-228</a> "Kleine Schnellzughoehle" where the survey looks suspiciously like <ahref="/1623/114/114.html">1623-114</a> (Lost Hole) which I know visually looks very much like a smaller version of Schnellzughoehle.<p>
I failed: the GPS position (fairly close to the Stoger Weg) is (2024) in completely impenetrable pine scrub. So either ArGE are incredibly hard, or the path has healed up since 2000, or they have recorded the wrong GPS position. I suspect that it is really the same as 114 and that they have the wrong GPS.
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It was horrid: lower altitude and lots of curious cows meant lots of flies, cow flies, horse flies, humid scratchy larchen. Nasty. So I went on to the next target which was to check out some entrances lacking photos on the near part of the plateau.
I can say categorically that a GPS position is not sufficient to disambiguate entrances when there are 5 pits all within a few meters. One would need good photos and very clear descriptions. This is the case for 1623-81, 81b and 1623-82b. <ahref="/1623/82/82.html">1623-82</a> 82 and 85 was easily identified because the paint and tag were in place. Ditto 148, but I failed with 289 too.
<p>OK so lots of frustratingly similar photographs were take (with GPS coordinates in the EXIF data at least). My phone battery died with all the GPS work, and even with a spare battery pack it died again. So I took decided to get my exercise by walking up to top camp, having a coffee (nobody there). I left at about 14:00 and walked back.
<p>The Berg Restaurant was not serving food, but beer was extremely welcome. As was the Austrian trio of double-base, accordion and base guitar which was serenading the just-off-work seilbahn station workers, who were tucking into roast pig, sauerkraut and potatoes. Very, very Austrian.
<p>Got a lift back down the toll road to Alt Aussee with a multigenerational German family in a very small car: the granddaughter had to sit across Granny and my laps. This was a bit uncomfortable for all concerned s she was about 18.<p>
Walked back to Bad Aussee. Had coffee having missed last bus.
<p>Walked back to Gasthof. At which point I discovered Jono had driven down and if I had just stayed drinking beer I would have got a lift. Ho Hum.
We rigged the entrance to Homecoming and rigged ropes down to the up pitch. ropes after this were left insitu. wookey dissapeared behind us to play with his new toy (Sap6) he measured some pitches as far as the 4 bolt traverse at the bottom of radagast. We found the pile of rope at the bottom of the uprope to Propane Nightmares.
These ropes had been left in a diabolical, abhorrent and disgusting state. They were left vaguely piled around the passage with knots still tied and with tangled ends and random extra knots, twists and fucked bits. Lara spat on the knots to try and untie one of them. We spent an hour untangling, untying, unfucking and coiling ropes. The clean ones were left daisychained whilst the fucked ones were coiled. The longest 4 fucked ropes were dragged out without tackle sacks! grrrrrrrrrrrrr
we walked to garlic from top and fettled the tarps and kit. then thunder, lightning and lotsa of rain struck. we dealt with this by laying down and trying to sleep under the tarp. we ended up using a bivi bag as a duvet and had a book reading session until the rain had passed. was very warm and lovely.
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Zero stoke for this trip and a crack of 11am start saw us heading down with the 2 bags of rope to rig Mongol Rally plus associated hardware and some kit to keep us warm, safe and happy. The 2024 rig of the entrance pitch felt unfamiliar - below the first ledge, the next rebelay had me stood under a drip on the right wall on a lower ledge with a tensioned traverse line that Anthony had rigged yesterday, heading over to the Y-hang for the main, long hang. I removed the rebelay, ignored the resultant mild rub (sorted later, no fear dear reader) and headed down. Soon enough we were at the head of Honeycomb. Ruaridh and Marie immediately settled into their bothy and I was left to start rigging. Two minutes later, at 13.22 I heard the taps turn on. "It's a flood pulse, Ruaridh". This meant there'd be no point trying to get out in the next few hours. I headed down, past the 2nd Y-hang to the first single bolt Hilti spit rebelay. Such things are usually hidden by a nice, big hanger. Seen naked, it's smashed-in, cratered surround looked disconcertingly bad. And the air rushing from the roaring waterfall immediately below had me shivering. I turned tail and prussiked back up to add a thermal in the toasty bothy bag and collected the drill. This was Anthony's brand new drill, and a thing of beauty. Hammer and drill tethers with delightful, dinky screwgates plus baby snaplinks to clip them up. Drill bits carefully taped up to the right length. A blowing tube and even a spare spanner in case you were numpty enough to drop your first. The drill itself wass nestled in foam padding then a dry bag that had, get this, no holes. It felt mean to him to be christening it. Having added a bolt to the first single bolt rebelay it seemed sensible to add another to the next single bolt rebelay then I headed on down. Marie followed me with the Hangman's rope bag but said that Ruaridh was sick with stomach pains and was staying at the top. She had been keen to rig but the next pitch and hand-line turned out to be still in situ. Instead, she put in a new through bolt for a traverse line to the initial short pitch leading to Hangman's. Having rigged down to the start of Hangman's we ferried our bags down then, unexpectedly, Ruaridh arrived. Despite a hacking cough and some strange smells he had managed to bring down one of the Mongol Rally bags which was impressive. I was, though, a bit less impressed that neither he or Marie had brought down any food, water, the stove, bothy or first aid kit so it seemed sensible to call the trip and head on out. Ruaridh was suffering on the exit but we plodded out a reasonable pace, Marie and I had noodles at the base of the entrance to give the water more time to recede then I offered to head up first, being the only one who'd brought a kagoule. The bottom third of the long drop (2nd one up) was the wettest where spray filled the shaft but it wasn't too bad so I whistled for the others then rigged the single bolt rebelay above the long drop Y-hang to remove the rub. We were all out by 10 so T/U 11 hours. Beautiful, moonlit and clear walk back to an empty Top Camp.
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<divclass="triptitle">basecamp - Heute ist Domstag</div>
Delayed Onset Muscle Stiffness my walk up to StoneBridge a couple of days ago.
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A bit of a disturbance last night as Marie was a bit ill after coming out of a cave and could not make the walk back to camp and had to bivvy on the plateau with Jacob. Wookey took her a sleeping bag.
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