Alas it was the blog.

Anyway obviously I have a little more time on my hands now if I’m writing this post. Look forward to more updates soon!

Watson and her yacht Ella’s Pink Lady must cross the equator at least once during the voyage spending time in both hemispheres. From there Jessica intends to travel a further 200 nautical miles north rounding Kiribati Island before again turning south towards Cape Horn.

Although I’ve placed hand and foot on many a rock face before it had always been in gloves and snow boots - sometimes even crampons. Everything I knew about pure rock climbing I learned at climbing gyms and by reading books. So as you can imagine I didn’t know much at all. Some would say I effectively knew nothing and that’s certainly the attitude I was taking with myself. But before rolling your eyes at the suggestion one can learn something of rock climbing from books, read on. The fact is that the first chapter of David Roberts’ On the Ridge Between Life and Death played an important role in my decision making on the day. In Robert’s story it ended with the death of Gabe the seconder leaving the lead climber behind to write the story. Thankfully in my experience the seconder (in this case me) and the lead both live to tell the tale. I’m here to write it down in the hope that it can serve as a lesson for those who choose to read it.

It was Friday the 30th of October when, after work, my sister Amy, her fiance Andy and myself left Melbourne. Our convoy headed into the night towards Mt Arapiles through thunder storms that lit up the sky as they moved across most of Victoria. It was not meant to be good weather for climbing and we knew that. Still we headed off hoping for the best. It was a long drive and I kept the radio tuned to weather reports hoping to the hear news we’d been looking for - clear skies and no rain. The report finally came through an hour from our destination. Temperatures in the 30’s and only scattered showers were forecast for most of the western district. I knew that in the small area we would be climbing that could easily mean no rain at all. I felt like luck was on our side as I jumped on the CB to inform the others.

We arrived late at The Pines camp ground close to the base of Mt Arapiles. It was almost a full moon and I could clearly make out the silhouette of the Pinnacles as we hurriedly looked for a spot to make camp amongst the crowd of tents. I could scarcely wait for morning when the rock I’d been studying in pictures would come into full view for the first time.

After a long drive it seemed like a beer or two was in order and we sat around for a while drinking and just relaxing. I was aware that given the temperatures we were best to have an early start so paced myself in avoidance of a hangover. I didn’t really see how many Andy had but, however many it was, they were all destined to come back to haunt him on the following day’s climb.

The Pinnacles viewed from The Pines camp ground at Mt Arapiles

The sun and the heat got us out of our tents early the next morning and it soon became evident that “temperatures in the 30’s” was likely to mean at least mid 30’s if not more. The weather bureau readings for nearby Horsham Airport recorded 33.6 degrees at 3pm of that day but all agree that temperatures around Arapiles must have been higher. The breeze was coming from the west and was effectively blocked for all except those who climbed those western faces that day. Our planned route “Syrinx” on the Tiger Wall, on the east and was to be in full sun and without breeze the entire climb. The plan was for Andy to lead climb the entire way with me watching and learning as I seconded.

Andy got up just after me, told me he wasn’t feeling that hungry and asked me if I had a hangover.

“No” I replied without thinking to ask him the same question.

We both set about organising our gear. I got some food into me, had a coffee, a couple of orange juices and quite a bit of water. I didn’t notice what Andy consumed exactly but I know it was not much at all.

“How long will the climb take?” I asked Andy as I began to compile a mental check list of any provisions we might need.

“Two hours.” he replied confidently.

With that I put two muesli bars and a litre of water into a back pack with Andy handing me a third 300ml bottle to include.

“I don’t really think we’ll need this small one.” I said looking for an opportunity to minimise my weight.

All I have to do is keep up and not let him down, I thought. I didn’t want to be the one that forced us to rappel off my first climb because I couldn’t make it. Three hundred grams less weight I thought would be a good thing especially when I considered I’d be carrying our walking shoes, a guide book and cleaning the route as well. Andy agreed and the extra water was disguarded.

With this same view towards weight minimisation we went through the gear on my harness. Aside from what was in the back pack I was to carry a nut key on a carabiner, a primary belay device on a large locking biner as well as a back-up belay device on a secondary locking biner. I also added a small tube of sunscreen attached to the harness itself for easy access.

With that we headed off to the base of Tiger Wall which is when the heat really started to hit us. At the base of the wall I applied sun screen and offered some to Andy who refused. He ran me quickly through all the calls we’d be making to ensure I had it committed to memory. Then off he went as my sister Amy video taped his progress. As I belayed him another couple of climbers who were also feeling heat came past in search of sunscreen themselves. I happily obliged as they helped themselves to the supplies on my harness.

Tiger Wall on Mt Arapiles

Andy’s progress was quite slow but methodical. He was placing protection fairly close together and I didn’t mind at all the thought of cleaning it off the rock. It was good practice and I knew that if unable to solve a move all those nuts and cams might provide me with artificial hold for a bit of sneaky aid climbing here or there. Naughty I know but this was my first climb and, to be honest, I was a little daunted by how long it was. I wondered why we didn’t start on something a little shorter for a warm-up. It was getting really hot and I hadn’t even started.

“Safe Ben” was the call finally from Andy far out of sight above.

We went through the process of taking up rope and getting me on belay then it was my turn. I put my foot on the rock for the first move hoping I could make this climb. It was long I knew that, and more than anything I just didn’t want to fail. To my surprise, however, I found the climbing easy and aside from missing a nut on my way up the first pitch, descending again to clean it, everything went smoothly. It was baking hot and I offered Andy a drink of water at the top of the first but he refused. I looked around at the view was elated.

“How’s the nerves?” Asked Andy.

“Fine mate. Feeling great” I replied. Everything was going wonderfully.

It wasn’t until we both reached the top of the second pitch that things started to feel a bit wrong. Andy looked stressed and his movements laboured as he helped me get anchored and prepared to climb once again. Watching him was making me feel uneasy. I also began to feel that we were making much slower progress than planned. Our two hours were almost already used up and, according to Andy, we weren’t even half way. I took a moment to look around and checked to see if my sister was still videoing our progress from below - but she’d gone. Off in the distance I could see another pair of climbers both on the top of a single pitch preparing to rappel back down and I started to wish I was one them.

“It’s not so much the heat it’s just feeling so dry” Andy complained.

I took out the back pack and took a drink of water then offered it to him along with some sunscreen again.

“I’ll have a small sip.” He said, taking the water but ignoring the sunscreen.

After he’d finished I checked the bottle. We’d gone through a little less than half the water at this stage which I thought was pretty good considering the slow pace and oppressive heat. I certainly wasn’t feeling thirsty and, although he was complaining of being dry, he wasn’t exactly gulping it down either. Still something about Andy didn’t seem right and thoughts started to cross my mind of what I would do if, all of a sudden I was in charge up here. I looked around and tried to imagine what it would be like to be alone in this place.

“This is just nerves” I convinced myself. “Andy’s fine.”

Then before I’d had time to really come to terms with those thoughts Andy was off again.

“On belay climb when ready.” I shot out belatedly even though Andy was already climbing.

The change of process, although minor, unnerved me further. This was my first proper climb and he was teaching me, why weren’t we doing it by the book?

I sat at the base of the third pitch belaying him whilst I watched his moves in the hope of being able to repeat them. Within just a few minutes Andy seemed to run into trouble.

“I think we’re a bit fucked Ben.” he groaned as he struggled to hook an old piton.

I felt a shift in my state and began to recall the words on page two of David Roberts’ book On the Ridge Between Life and Death.

“On my tongue, I tasted the first trickle of dread.”

What exactly did Andy mean by that? I thought. If Andy can’t climb this section how the hell could I expect to do it? Was something wrong with him or is this route just harder than advertised?

It didn’t look that difficult from where I sat yet he struggled with every move placing protection closer and closer together as if he felt he might fall. One of the cams between me and him came lose and I quickly did the math. There was just now just one old piton stopping him from falling directly onto my head. With a series of grunts he placed another nut and I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“Ahhh take!” he ordered as I instantly pulled the rope tight. “I’m going to have take a rest on this nut. I’m fucked!”

“I’ve got you mate. You’re doing well” I replied enouragingly, all the time wondering whether it would hold.

Andy sat back on the rope. The nut held as he attempted to shake a little life back into his hands. I watched as he sat there for about a minute studying the next few moves. He was breathing hard and shallow now and he was starting to groan a little. I wondered how on earth I could hope to follow him.

“Alright climbing again.” he yelled between breaths. Then paused another ten seconds before reluctantly placing his limbs back on the rock.

Andy struggles out of site above on the third pitch of Syrnx.

His next series of moves deteriorated quickly into desperation. Andy now groaned and screamed, crying out with the pain of effort required by each and every movement. I watched every bit of protection he put in and tightened the rope accordingly expecting a leader fall any second. He must have made about 20 meters when I sensed him start to panic. Something was very wrong but I didn’t know what.

“I’ve got rest. I’ve just got to sit here for a bit!” were the the only words he managed to force out between ever shortening breaths.

I watched him traverse slightly to the left onto some kind of ledge before leaning back and away out of my view. I could hear him breathing harder and harder crying out almost with every breath. Even though he was now sitting still I could hear his distress growing. The knot grew tighter inside me. I was told this was just a grade 10. How hard was this section actually going to be? How did Andy ever expect me to make it if it was this difficult for him? Had he forgotten this was my first climb? I dug deep and resolved to just deal with it as it comes. I wasn’t going to fail.

Andy now remained out of site leaving only the sound of his groans and the painfully slow movement of rope through my belay as the sole clues of progress. After a while I tuned him out and calmed myself with the view eastward across the wheat fields saturated green by the recent spring rains - now baked by the roasting sun. An eagle circled at eye level and again I was taken back to Roberts story of his doomed partner Gabe.

“I waited and stared. Far out above the plains, a hawk danced in circles on an updraft, mocking our gravity bound plight. The sun blazed on the back of my neck.”

I calmly sat taking it all on board when my present reality again came into focus. Some words had begun leaping out from amongst the sounds of pain above.

“Safe Ben. Ahh.. Safe!” Muttered Andy. His words barely audible above his own primitive grunts.

He didn’t sound like he felt safe to me but I followed the process without delay and took the rope out of the belay device. I’d been waiting long enough and wanted to just get this over and done with.

“Off belay!” I bellowed back as I put my rock shoes on and again looked up to address the moves I’d need to make on the next pitch.

I waited for Andy to drag up the rest of the slack and get me on belay. The rope moved a couple of inches and with a cry of pain dropped back down again.

“Take!” I yelled “Off belay.” Expecting the rope to start travelling upwards again.

For the next few minutes I watched the rope travel back and forth slowly making progress upward as my lead screamed in pain above. What could be wrong I wondered. Was the rope jammed somewhere? In a final burst of primal noises the rope jerked and then stopped once more.

“Ben… Ahhh. Um I’m fucked. You have to get up here. I need water. I’m cramping bad. I’m, I’m really fucked I’m sorry.” The tone of his voice was desperate.

At last the picture became clear. In front of my very eyes and without me noticing Andy had become so weak with dehydration he could now no longer even pull the slack out of the rope. There was no hope he could belay me safely and I noticed he was no longer making any attempt. He again called down in desperation for water as I glanced at the near useless coil of slack near my feet calculating the drop. I knew that unprotected and without belay, every move I made upward from here was just adding further to the fall should I make a wrong move

“I think I’m passing out. I need water!” Pleaded Andy.

The urgency in his voice spurred me into action and I became determined to get up there. I searched my harness for a prussic loop or something I could use to climb the rope safely but found nothing. Since I knew little of any real use about rock climbing a scoured back through my mountaineering experience for a solution. I knew I could make something that might act like an ascender out of carabiners but I’d only ever used the set-up on a crevasse rescue when the rope is always tight. I wasn’t sure what could go wrong with it if the line went slack. In addition all I had were locking biners and I needed non locking ones so they’d jam flush with each other. I thought about climbing up to retrieve a quickdraw from the cam above me and seeing what I could do with that.

I pulled the anchor from the ledge in preparation to climb to the quickdraw knowing I had no belay and without being confident Andy had even us secured at the top. (As is turns out I later learned he had managed to get two out of three anchors in before succumbing to exhaustion.) I put hand to rock and placed my foot for the first move. The knot inside again tightened. I knew this was already becoming risky plus I wasn’t at all confident that my quickdraw and carabiner contraption was even going to be safe. Plus it was my first climb and it didn’t seem like the right time to start experimenting. Still Andy needed me and I wasn’t going to fail. Again something made me think back to chapter one of On the Ridge Between Life and Death.

“Briefly I toyed with a humiliating scenario. We could call for help, hoping to catch the ear of some hiker on the Mesa Trail below. Then wait for hours, stranded on our separate ledges, as experts from the Rocky Mountain Rescue Group climbed up the back…”  “Yet I knew I could never bring myself to take that course. In the mountains, as in all climbing narratives I had read since I was twelve made clear, you got yourself in and out of trouble.”

The veiw from my ledge on Tiger Wall

Then I made the connection. The seemly coincidental similarity of events was crying out in an effort to tell me something. In Robert’s account instead of calling for help the pair tried fixing a tricky situation and in doing so got themselves into even further trouble. Moments later Gabe fell to his death and the lead climber ended up calling for help anyway. Like Roberts I wasn’t keen on the humiliation of being rescued, particularly on my first climb, yet after a few thoughts of home I realised that I have much bigger responsibilities than looking after my own pride. Hoping against hope that this wasn’t actually happening I decided to introduce a new option to Andy. We could skip the making it worse bit and go straight to the rescue.

“I don’t think I should come up. Do you need rescue?” I asked.

“Ahh… Yes… Yes I’m sorry.” Came the reply from above.

I rested my head against the rock for a moment. This was really happening.

Roberts’ book had served me well up to this point so I thought why stop now? Just like him I turned to face away from the cliff face a bellowed out the word “Help” in three successive bursts.

As the narrative dictates the call I was expecting back was “Help coming!” but it wasn’t to be. From here on Andy and I made our official departure from Chapter 1 of One the Ridge Between Life and Death and started to write our own less tragic tale.

“What’s the problem?” Came the reply from one of the pair I had been enviously watching on that single pitch earlier in the day.

“Lead climber in trouble. Cannot move!” I replied in short clear bursts.

There was a pause.

“What do you want us to do?” Asked our would-be savior.

That was a good question and one that I wasn’t ready for. I was new here, how would I know? After conferring with Andy above I yelled down to the pair below for the Police. Andy knew that they would gather a specialist rescue team from nearby Natimuk to come to our aid. All we had to do now was wait.

It was now late afternoon and the unrelenting sun beat down on us both whilst we settled in. Andy was getting progressively quieter although his pleading for water never really stopped. Out of growing concern I periodically checked on his condition from below attempting to diagnose him. He would answer only some of the time and I started to wonder whether he couldn’t hear me, if he was unconscious or if he was just to weak to respond. I had no idea how bad Andy really was, how long the rescue would take and whether he’d still be alive at the end of it. What I did know for sure is that the 500ml of water I did have was not going to be enough to make any difference to his climbing ability and the effort of getting it up there at this stage would push me into dehydration as well. Then we’d have two semi conscious people up here and nobody left to do the thinking.

The first police car arrives

The first to arrive were the Police. After staring at us for some time the officer approached the cliff face and ask for more details. I told him Andy was in a bad way and pleaded for water to be rappelled in from the top.

“Just don’t do anything stupid!” Barked the officer in disciplinary a tone that alarmed me.

Surely all the stupid options had been exhausted. What was he thinking we’d do? Still I went through a quick mental checklist of what not to do next and sure enough, short of jumping off the ledge or climbing unprotected everything was fine. Andy just needed water. I later discovered that a friend of the officer had died just above where Andy now lay stranded. I don’t have any more details than that but perhaps that influenced his level of his concern.

I watched as a small crowd of people and emergency vehicles assembled at the base of the Tiger Wall but there was still no rescue team. I have since been told that the Police had, by this stage, given up on their attempts to utilise the mobile / pager system which had become stretched by the crowds of people attending the nearby Natimuk Fringe Festival. In Natimuk a gathering of more than five people is considered a crowd. Instead they called the Natimuk pub where the publican duly directed them to Muki who was at home next door with Lachlan Hick watching the new Star Trek movie. Also joining the rescue was Aaron from Melbourne who received the page whilst already on the way to Arapiles for the weekend. Lachlan has as Industrial Rope Access Trade Association Level 2 and Muki is a trainer / assessor for a similar TAFE based course. Aaron has over 15 years rock climbing experience and I believe has some kind of qualifications but I’ve not been able to verify this.

Once the rescuers were on scene things began to happen very quickly. A few shouts up and down between myself and Muki established that Andy needed water as a first priority. I listened in with great relief as the calls for water were relayed between rescuers. At last I knew Andy was going to be okay and I called up to let him know water was on the way. Muki flew up both pitches and arrived on my ledge with astonishing speed. He chucked a huge cam in the crack beside me before pulling up a section of rope and anchoring it to both the cam and me. With the remaining slack he pushed up towards Andy as the rest of the group continued Simul Climbing up to my ledge on Syrinx. Muki’s rope was now running through more gear above me and he called down for me to untie it from the anchor. In my haste I took him off the cam but left it still fixed to me resulting in a few sharp corrective words from him as he tried to push upwards again.

Next on my ledge was Lachlan. Panting with the effort of his lightening speed climb he turned and introduced himself to me.

“I’m Lachlan. Did you guys have a big night last night?

“Um, I think Andy might have.” I admitted. The guilt on my face must have been evident.

“I don’t care.” Replied Lachlan as he shook his head reassuringly. “It happens.”

I couldn’t decide how that made me feel. I didn’t find much solace in being just one more pair who got caught by the same old problem and I found myself starting to wish our screw up was something unique.

Lachlan and Andy - Snatch Rescue. Aaron in the background.

Aaron arrived on the ledge next just after Lachlan had departed and we had time a for a good chat whilst everything was rigged up for a Snatch Rescue above. After some time Lachlan came down with Andy. They stopped for a while on my ledge whilst more water was poured into him then continued the rappel back to the ground in one. I could hear Andy was on the ground now and I knew the Ambulance would be looking after him. At last I could relax.

Muki cleaned the third pitch as he down climbed to us then all three of us traversed to a rappel point about 30 meters left of my ledge. We all rapped down in one from there with the guys managing to retrieve all the gear which was later sorted through and returned the following day.

At the base, on solid ground again I was feeling no sense of relief at all.

“Well that was a complete failure.” I said as I turned to Lachie.

“No.” he said “That was a partial failure Ben. A complete one is when you never climb again. You did the right thing.”

With that Lachlan suggested a six pack as payment for the rescue and extended an invitation to climb with him the next day as surely Andy would still be out of action. The next morning we met up and climbed Spiral Staircase completing the first pitch via a route about 5 meters to the left. Not being sure if anyone had done that before we joked around about naming the route Sunstoke or Stroke It in honor of Andy. I finally got my first climb in and felt happy. I also completed my Arapiles right of passage by doing the squeeze test - sunburn and all. Andy recovered but didn’t climb again for the rest of the trip.

Aaron pulling up more ropes for the rappel

I’m sure that there will be many different opinions about this and whether I did the right things at the right time. Looking back I think all the mistakes were really made before we ever started climbing and, once on the route, it became a choice between pushing a bad situation in the hope of getting out or admitting things were out of control. Andy’s body failed him primarily because he failed to look after himself in the first place. Then he failed to recognise the signs of dehydration before it was already too late. On my first rock climb I saw first hand how little your climbing skill matters once your body has decided it’s had enough. It’s your main tool and you need to look after it.

My mistake? Well like all juicy mistakes it’s a little embarrassing and it’s something I didn’t realise until days later. Still this article is all about learning so here goes…

When Andy called down for me to get up to him I frantically searched my harness for an ascender or prussic loop. Not finding one I briefly jumped to my crazy plan B which was to climb up, retrieve a quick draw and fashion some kind of contraption to do the job. When I did that I pulled the anchor and, for a brief moment, I held in my hands enough cord to tie as many damn prussic knots as I wanted. Something about the situation gave me a kind of tunnel vision and it just didn’t register. As it turns out not climbing up to him was the best decision anyway. I think if it came to the crunch and no rescue was coming I would have looked again for a solution and eventually seen the cord.

In the end I chose to call it when I did and we made it back down. At least I think you can say the decision that get’s you back on the ground can never be the wrong one regardless of what mistakes you did make to get yourself stuck in the first place.

Oh yeah and according Lachlan the new Star Trek movie is awesome.

To succeed Watson must adhere to a number of rules for around the world record attempts including:

• Departing and arriving from the same port.
• Crossing all lines of longitude.
• Cross the equator entering into the Northern Hemisphere at least once.
• Round the southern landmarks of South America and South Africa.

The journey will likely cover over 23,000 nautical miles (about 38,000 kilometres) across some of the world’s most tretcherous oceans.

RemoteAdventurer.com will be covering the story at every turn. Subscribe to the RSS feed or check back regularly for updates.

Although obsolete many people continue to carry or store serviceable 121.5 MHz EPIRBs either because they still haven’t got around to upgrading to a  406 MHz or, in other cases, may have simply forgotten that the unit is kicking around. Some discarded units are also finding their way in to garden sheds, bins, rubbish tips and household storage where they can become activated by accidental damaged or by children and members of the public who don’t know what the device does. Some activations are even the result of owners assuming it is now safe to turn on the beacon.

This situation has lead to a growing number of false alarms and AMSA (Australian Maritime Safety Authority) is urging all 121.5 MHz EPIRB owners to deactivate and/or dispose of these units correctly.

How to make you 121.5 MHz EPIRB safe:

• DEACTIVATE: Deactivation involves removing or disconnecting the battery from the unit rendering the device inoperable. Note please see individual manufacturer  instructions relating to this and be aware that power sources can be dangerous if not handled correctly.
• DISPOSE: Battery World stores accept and dispose of EPIRBs Australia wide at no cost. This prevents units from getting into the wrong hands and ensured batteries do not pollute the environment.

On Friday 2 October 2009 Lock stood on the summit of Tibet’s Mt Shishapangma making him just the 18th person in the world to climb all the Earth’s 8000+ meter peaks and the first Australian to ever join this exclusive group of mountaineering’s super elite. It puts Lock in a group almost as exclusive as the 12 men to ever stand on the surface of the moon. Yet this awesome moment of Australian achievement has so far been at risk of passing practically unnoticed by mainstream media and, as a result, the public at large.

Amongst daily news of socially troubled footballers being traded left right and centre and Lindsay Lohan’s latest indiscretion it’s a wonder why this genuinely hard won achievement could rate such little public attention. Even our Prime Minister Kevin Rudd, who apparently has enough time on his hands to twitter and flickr his eating of a biscuit hasn’t yet taken a moment to publicly congratulate this true Australian achiever.  We can only wait in hope. In my opinion the Australian Geographic Society’s award couldn’t come at a better time and hopefully it goes some way towards promoting Lock’s hard work.

According to Greg Mortimer, Trustee of the Australian Geographic Society, “Climbing 14 8,000 metre peaks, is like winning 14 Olympic Gold Medals holding your breath”.

“The AG Society believes it’s vital to celebrate the often-overlooked achievements of adventurers, and Andrew Lock is one of this country’s finest” said Australian Geographic journal editor Ian Connellan. “In completing this remarkable endeavour, he’s shown all the attributes we most admire in Australians: modesty, grace under pressure, persistence… He’s an extraordinary man.”

In 2004, when he was a climber on Everest, Lock’s actions were somewhat reminiscent of the Australian Anzac spirit when he personally rescued three climbers from other teams on their way down from the summit giving up his own life giving supplies of vital oxygen in the process. Even Lock’s ultimate moment of achievement, the one that that saw him return safely from the summit of Shishapangma, seems to follow closely the classic plot of great Australian daring in the face of doom. Whilst finally reaching his ultimate goal he almost never made it home after an experience  he describes as the “worst night of my life”. Something which is certainly noteworthy when you consider the hardships such a man must have already faced during his long and risky mountaineering career.

Australia’s history and place in the world has been defined to a large degree by men and women the calibre of Captain Cook, Bourke & Wills, the Anzacs, our SAS soldiers and those of the type that today silently blaze new trails across the Antarctic. People who quietly take on incredible risks to achieve incredible things. Many of whom never return home to tell the tale. Lock can count himself as one of the lucky ones, but only just.

After 15 years of unrelenting effort and a 12 hour climb the final few moments of Lock’s quest were, by his account, the toughest he has ever endured and an experience that could have been his last. After standing atop Tibet’s Mt Shishapangma Lock and his partner Neil Ward had only enough time to shake hands before hurriedly starting their descent into a fierce storm that would see the pair lost and huddled overnight on an icy shelf at 7600m fearing for their lives.

Exhausted and badly dehydrated, Lock described what happened from the relative safety of the 5600m Advanced Base Camp.

“We realised we were stuck in a pretty serious situation. The cloud came in and we lost the moonlight. We simply couldn’t find our way back down. Our tracks were covered (by the snow).

“We hacked a ledge out of the snow with our axes and just sat (there) for ten or 11 hours in the falling snow, the blowing wind and the bitter cold, about -20 to -30 degrees Celsius. No tent, no stove, no sleeping bags so sat on our packs for a little insulation.

“Our big fear was being caught by oedema or high wind. It was the toughest, coldest night I’ve ever had. If the weather had turned any worse we’d probably still be up there on that ledge. We’re lucky to have made it back down,” “(It) didn’t come easily. It made me fight for it every centimetre of the way which is probably a worthwhile thing.” explained Lock.

Lock’s idea that his brush with death is a good thing is, in fact, steeped in the best of Australian tradition. As a nation this country tends to remember not so much successes and failures but rather outcomes of any kind so long as they were hard won. For Aussies, fighting hard and losing or succeeding only by the skin of your teeth continues to be more Australian than the easy victory.

As such Andrew Lock’s achievement belongs to the greatest tradition of Australian adventuring and he is more than deserving of AG’s Adventurer of the Year Award. Perhaps this recognition will prompt someone in the mainstream media to pick up the story.

SES and Police are now searching the area for the two men aged 23 and 33 as well the female caller aged 20. The two men were apparently riding trail bikes and the woman driving a four wheel drive.

Lerderderg State Park comprises 20,546 hectares and stretched around 20km between Bacchus Marsh and Blackwood. Its close proximity to Melbourne makes it popular with trail bike and four wheel drive enthusiasts.

The full press release follows:

MOUNTAINEER, Andrew Lock, became the first Australian to summit all 14 of the world’s highest peaks when he stood atop Tibet’s Mt Shishapangma on Friday night but his elation was short-lived when his descent was delayed by a storm and he was forced to spend the night huddled on an icy shelf at 7600m fearing for his life.Lock and his climbing partner Neil Ward from Wales reached the 8027m summit after 12 hours climbing. Already exhausted and with the weather deteriorating and night closing in, they had barely enough time to shake hands before starting their descent.

Exhausted and badly dehydrated, Lock described what happened from the relative safety of Advance Base Camp at 5600m.

“We realised we were stuck in a pretty serious situation. The cloud came in and we lost the moonlight. We simply couldn’t find our way back down. Our tracks were covered (by the snow).

“We hacked a ledge out of the snow with our axes and just sat (there) for ten or 11 hours in the falling snow, the blowing wind and the bitter cold, about -20 to -30 degrees Celsius. No tent, no stove, no sleeping bags so sat on our packs for a little insulation.

“Our big fear was being caught by oedema or high wind. It was the toughest, coldest night I’ve ever had. If the weather had turned any worse we’d probably still be up there on that ledge. We’re lucky to have made it back down,” explained Lock, breathless and desperately in need of rest.

The pair feared they would die on the mountain but made it through the night and, at first light, resumed their descent, finally reaching Advance Base Camp on Sunday afternoon after another night on the mountain.

It was the third time Lock has attempted to summit Mt Shishapangma, the lowest of the 14 “8000ers” but one of the most technically challenging. The realisation of his goal to climb the world’s biggest peaks is not something Lock has had the time or the energy to celebrate yet.

“The completion of the project hasn’t really sunk in yet. It’s been all about just climbing the mountain. I’m just trying to get my strength back. When I get back to Kathmandu and then home to Australia I will start to enjoy the achievement.

“The summit was absolutely fantastic but Shishapangma, at the final peak, didn’t come easily. It made me fight for it every centimetre of the way which is probably a worthwhile thing.”

Lock will now recover at Advance Base Camp for a few days before leaving the mountain that could have claimed his life.  But, despite the experience of the last few days, he still has one more goal before he hangs up his ice axes.

He plans to conquer Everest for the third time in March 2010 but this time solo and without the aid of oxygen.

Reports at this moment are still sketchy but it appears that after topping out on Tibet’s Mount Shishapangma Andrew encountered a difficult descent through stormy conditions.

The post on his website reads:

“Summitted the true summit of Shishapangma at 5.05pm, 2nd October, with Neil Ward.

Very tough climb via a variation of the Inaki route on the north face, caught in a storm on descent with an open bivouac at 7600 metres without equipment thrown in for good measure.

Just into basecamp now, bit tired, more later.”

To put this moment in perspective only 12 men have ever stood on the surface of the moon and, as of 2nd October, just six more than that have climbed all 8000′ers. When you contrast this against the popularity, accessibility and history of mountaineering you begin to understand the magnitude of this achievement.

I’ll be seeking further comment from Andrew in the coming days. For now please join me in congratulating him by leaving a comment below!

This amazing  video posted on You Tube documents the frightening ordeal of skier Chris Cardello who’s helmet cam captured what he surely thought were the final moments of his life.

Fortunately Chris was wearing a Black Diamond AvaLung which saved his life. To quote Black Diamond directly:

The Black Diamond AvaLung allows you to breathe fresh air directly from the snowpack, buying you precious time during a rescue. Rebreathing exhaled air when youre buried causes suffocation because the air becomes oversaturated with carbon dioxide and depleted of oxygen. The AvaLung diverts the exhausted air away from your fresh-air intake zone, considerably extending the time your partners have to conduct a successful recovery.

The footage, shot in Haines Alaska, shows Chris’s own eye view of him dropping in on a steep piste which quickly gives way beneath him. We follow him down the slope as he eventually comes to rest buried under many feet of snow. You can hear the AvaLung working as he struggles for breath whilst rescue crew above work furiously to free him.

When you hear Chris’s deep distress under the snow it’s sobering to think that some of the final moments in this video must go some way towards representing what it’s really like for those avelanche victims who don’t make it.