Ice climbing in Heidal
4 days of adventure

After a steep and snowy approach, we reached a stunning looking wall of ice, with icicles in different shades ranging from yellow to blue and a dusting of snow on top. This climb already looked a lot steeper than what we had done the day before, but we were going to start out with an easy line on the left. 

After having watched several videos on ice climbing the night before, I had a slightly better idea of what a good technique should look like. I tried to bring this knowledge into practice not fully without success! With a bit more efficient use of my axes my arms didn’t get tired as fast, but my feet still slipped away from underneath me every now and then. Most of all, I still didn’t have any strategy for removing ice screws and hanging them onto my harness in a quick and consistent way. Most of the time, I’d come up to belay with quickdraws and ice screws all over the places, some still hanging on the rope and most of them not attached to the right color of the quickdraw either. Not pretty. 

After the first line, we tried a second route that ended in a nice little ice cave. Both my friend and myself were crying like a baby upon reaching this cave, from the pain in our hands. The combination of limited bloodflow while gripping the axes and the extreme cold resulted in a super painful warming up of the hands. An experience that unfortunately I’d have many more moments in the next few days.

To get further up from the cave would mean a steep and difficult bit of ice and I didn’t have the energy for that. I had a lot of fun climbing though and it was nice to do 2 slightly shorter routes this time, as to not burn myself out completely on the second day already!

Big day of climbing today! We started a little bit later than we probably should have, and began the approach with a very steep climb through the snow and trees. I was already sweaty and exhausted by the time we reached the ice, my gloves damp from falling in the snow. Not a good start and I knew it. But oh well. We donned our gear and started the first, easy pitch. All good. The second pitch was slightly harder and I managed to really fall for the first time, sliding down with both feet, and falling off with my axes thankfully both still in my hands. I am terrified of losing the ice axes, and by now had also realised how incapable you are on the ice without them. If you slide down the ice, slipping off the axe that remains hanging above you: good luck getting back to it (which sadly I had already experienced once, where it took a lot of force to pull myself up on one axe to reach the other). As expected, both my hands and toes were absolutely freezing and it was hard holding on to the ice axes, my grip not as tight as I would like it to be. I was also terrified of losing ice screws with this useless grip. And rightfully so, as I did manage to drop one on the second pitch, thankfully seeing where it landed in a place where it would be easy to retrieve later.

The third pitch we started from a small and ice cold cave, from where I couldn’t see how the rest of the route would go. Getting out of the cave was tricky and exposed and I was literally telling myself that I was a badass while I was finding my way out of it. Even with my hands hurting, I managed to get around the ice and onto the route nicely and continued to climb fairly well. Nothing dropped, no slipping. I thought this was the last pitch and gave it my all, reaching the belay cheering - that was awesome! Then I looked up and discovered there was a whole pitch left to climb, and not an easy one either. “Do you still have energy for that”? My friend asked. “No, absolutely not… Let’s do it!” was my reply. 

And it was hard. SO hard. I was absolutely freezing and very tired already. And then, on the first little bit of the pitch, on a few meters of vertical ice, I managed to slip off and lose one of my axes. SHIT. I saw it dropping down, bouncing, and ending up in some snow on the ledge. I shouted for slack, of which there wasn’t much, and was barely able to reach the area in which I had seen the axe fall. But I couldn’t see it. I scraped through the snow with my feet, but no axe. I was ready to cry and give up and tell my friend he’d have to come down when I gave it one last shot and found the axe buried in the snow. I was happy, but it also meant: I had to climb.

With renewed determination I started the vertical ice and got halfway the pitch with relative ease considering my exhaustion. I had a little rest and continued, but felt absolutely spent. Every axe placement was hard. My calves were burning. Taking out the ice screws was an excruciating effort. My arms could barely lift the axes anymore. It was getting dark. I knew I had to get on with it. I was so scared that my hands would slip off the axes and I would lose them, or that I wouldn’t be able to grip a screw hard enough. I wasn’t sure if I could do it. If I’d slid down a bit of the wall, Í’m not sure if I would have the energy to get back up. I asked my friend to keep the belay very tight and struggled onwards on the last few meters. It felt like pure survival, and I had to find strength in one of those hidden sources you rarely take from. 

When I FINALLY reached the top, it was dark. That not fully being a surprise, we had brought torches. We abseiled 3 pitches down in the dark, which was challenging for my tired hands, and then had to make our way back down on the steep snow. I slid down most of that route on my ass, which was fast and fun but still not enough to keep up with my super speedy friend. When we finally got back I was so happy that we had access to a shower one more night! My fingers and toes turned purple under the hot water. I was blissfully exhausted and excited to have completed such a big day. But also: I really need a rest now.