It isn't Trolltunga, But it is captivatingly beautifully high.

It's been a long hike,  here I stand, toes to the edge of something both very significant and totally unimportant. From this vantage, the view is wonderful: theres a haze that lets my vision pierce through to the greater world here and there. For the elevation I've gained, It's surprising how obscured my vision is still. The path by which I arrived stands clear, and already I can see a few likeminded following the same pilgrimage.

Bluff Knoll, Stirling range, WA.

This peak is high, it's the highest I've been in this place. This peak is called Bluff Knoll and it is also called being 29 years old. Standing at 1099m it was once thought to be the highest point in Western Australia. It is both as high as I've been and as old as I've been. The long winded metaphor I've put you through relates to these two minor summits in my life.




Up to now, every peak was summitable. Bright, proud and invincible, there was no feat i couldn't see myself achieving as a babe. But at the bases of mountains the slope is gentle, and we rarely consider the number of paces between tying ones laces at the base and finally planting the pole above.

As I've learnt before, keep your hotels. Camping in the car park and spoilt with a spectacular dawn sunrise

29 and Bluff Knoll, Bluff Knoll at 29; Two unimportant milestones, but two places of fantastic viewpoint. I thought that by thirty, I'd have a life plan sorted, A career I love and a strong direction in my life. As I'd said before, sometimes the clouds lift and there are little parts of the land that glow clearly in the sunshine through the grey fog. Largely however, things are unclear. What direction do I take with my life?

I'm told to take the worn path to a worn back, to work hard, to save money: To consider the future. I don't mind hard work, in fact I often relish it. I do find myself contemplating other ways that provide bread, maybe less bread for better work, or more bread for different work.

Standing on this magnificent, trivial peak there are two things clear to me. The 300m void in front of me suggests that down is not an option and that there are grander summits yet to climb.

Maybe that's it. Maybe no one really knows what is best or where they are going. Maybe my Idols are just as confused as I, contemplating the view through the fog from their lofty peaks.

It makes perfect sense to enjoy that moment celebrating my birth in the same way I came into this world.

I spent too much of my university life rolling around the local skatepark. I think I probably should have got a lot more out of that part of my life, including better grades.

That university degree gave me the passport that allowed me to travel into the world of professionalism. You can't float through a career the same way I floated through uni, spending long days enjoying the reflected heat of the concrete onto my bare chest, with every intent of cramming late study, to make up grades in the final exam.

Work demands your constant and untiring promise to give your whole.

Nothing scares me more than falling into a life of quiet sadness and cliche. To rise too early, into clothes I don't like to rush to a place of little creativity to make money for another man, all on the agreement that I'll get a small share of that mans money that will allow me to buy the material things that will allow me to  continue come back to that place and impress the other people caught in that same routine.

I took that small share of that mans money last week and spent it on the symbol of my university era freedom: a four wheeled device with no tyres, that's colourful and garish to the point of being hideous. Its pastel and childish and not at all the sort of thing 28 year old engineers should spend money on.


From a distance, a skatepark is a terrifying place. Youths in poorly fitted clothes listen to awful niche music, they wear damaged shoes and damaged bodies with pride. Boys and girls from 12 to 20 roll around with what seems nothing but the intent to hurt themselves. They are an age of invincibility, self surrender and questioning of others.


Compared to the other houses of fraternity, like a surf break or a sports field, a skatepark is a place of honest and open companionship. In my experience, these houses of ideals of camaraderie offer an illusion; Surfers protect their waves at the expense of non locals and sports clubs often take their inter team rivalry well them beyond the field. I've never visited a skatepark where people didn't answer to a hello with a warm smile and some banter.

The experienced riders teach the novice about the flow of the park, the etiquette, techniques to help their tricks and suggestions of things that might be exciting to try. A big fall results in a communal whistle as everyone pulls in breath during that moment of concern...then pause..then inevitably "You ok mate?". A big trick gets a communal holler followed by the sound of wood on concrete as boards are tapped to ground in what would be the skaters ovation. And not just the best tricks, but the best tricks for each person. The community takes enough interest to see that every person has their own everest.

An afternoon in a skatepark will give you real friends. Friends that share your joy, your pain, that will listen and learn and in turn teach, that will care.

Frontside flip over the Nedlands skatepark hip - Skater unknown

Every Mans Everest. I spent about half and hour teaching this dad how to pump and carve to carry more speed

Part II of "Measure of a man"




My first pure alpine route. I guess we skied out down the Vallee Blanche after, but it had nothing to do with the climb.

A big thanks to Ryan and Jon, who brought the alpine expertise and put up with Romain and I.  A truly beautiful route with great exposure.

Pictures:

Roped up (encordee) for the walk over

The route as seen from the eastern side. only a small amount of exposure on this side

The start of the route, starting from the 'abri simond'

Ryan getting energy for the traverse

Jon led the whole route and placed the protection. thank you mate!

Romain in one of the first snow gulleys

I enjoyed the first scramble section a lot!

Love that exposure. Bossons glacier below

Ryan playing the goat

don't look down!

And we made it! quick recharge before the 24km ski home

Weird being back on the arette du midi

Beautiful sunset decent on the Vallee Blanche

Eyeing the Cosmiques Couloir, a line we skied last year

"The sea's only gifts are harsh blows, and occasionally the chance to feel strong. Now I don't know much about the sea, but I do know that that's the way it is here. And I also know how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong but to feel strong. To measure yourself at least once. To find yourself at least once in the most ancient of human conditions. Facing the blind deaf stone alone, with nothing to help you but your hands and your own head." 
-Christopher McCandless - "Into the Wild" 


The sea is something I am familiar with, it is a friend. I always told myself that I could never live away from its influence. I needed not to see it, but to smell the salt in the air. Strangely, it has been a comfortable shift replacing the great blue expanse with towering peaks. I think it's a combination of the solitude and the cool wind I find comforting.




The dubious character you see above is Ryan; a friend I encountered last season in Chamonix. Ryan has a strange persuasion on me. He fills me with an addictive cocktail of emotion: Two parts confidence, One part fear, served long over glacier ice. Its easy to be a good skier/ alpinist when the goings good. Ryan's company leads you to places where you measure yourself, where you have to be strong, and eventually, to feel strong.

Richard half way down the Glacier Rond. It's steep, very steep and very very icy

Measure of a Man I: Glacier Rond

Glacier Rond is a hanging glacier, it can be seen central in this photo

Short rappel half way down the Rond, into the exit couloir

The worst is over

"No fall zone"

We skitted across the face, down a ridge on the southern edge then traversed back to the rock face on the north, all the time the skis vibrating violently as the edges hunted in the ice, looking to bite.  We threw in a few tentative jump turns and as we joined the lower half of the great face, the snow returned and some deep carves were possible.

Getting some big turns in on the steeps = great feeling

The boys triumphant at the end of the exit couloir

 We made our way back to Chamonix via the Bossons Glacier, A beautiful and wild frozen torrent, with great crevasses and seracs pushing into the air.

Amazing Bossons Glacier

That anchor looks safe right!

Always a little nervous rappelling onto a snow bridge

Ski Assault

Moon over Mont Blanc

We skied nearly to the door of the house, quite an effort when you live in town, no where near a piste. We put our feet up, took in the sun and a deep drink of beer and agreed not to try that again any time soon.

Victory celebrated properly

 Its a funny thing, memory.  Every time i go back to an important place of my childhood, i'm amazed at how small everything seems. It seems the thing of which we are least aware changing, are ourselves.

Ryan, "The toilet looked bigger last time i was here"

Ive spoken at length about the mighty Vallee Blanche before. A giant valley and collection of Glaciers that run right from the Mont Blanc (Glacier du Geant) nearly to the town of Chamonix (Mer de Glace). A place so vast, that it plays tricks on your perceptions of size and distance and so riddled with death traps in the form avalanches and crevasses, that it must be treated with absolute respect and only the local guides know intimately.

An invitation to do some filming with Steve, led to a ski down to the voie normale and a ski tour back up the other side to the Italian side of the Vallee Blanche, up to the Helbronner lift station. I'd never ski toured on this Glaciated area before and i was excited about skiing the Italian Side of La Vallee Blanche," La Vallee Noir"

Ski touring up to where the grass is greener, Italy!

The ski tour was nothing short of beautiful with a steady incline up in deep snow. The sun was out, the visibility was good and someone before us had layer down a great path. Progress was slow as we had a mono skier and a snow boarder in the group walking on snow shoes, which travel much more slowly and had to join themselves by rope, incase either punched through the snow, into a crevasse.

Due to a time constraint, we abandoned our plan for La Vallee Noir and took a closer route down L'Entreves. The Skiing was good, but fairly low gradient. What stuck with me most, however, was the view.

The View from the way up to Helbronner

Jim Enjoying the crowd 'lining up' for La Vallee Blanche arrete du midi

Yep, that's my girlfriend, she's awesome

Mark 'Sparky' Baldwin, no accordion, but still in tune!

Steve Baldwin, Riding a mono ski into the jaws of a crevasse

Steve was complaining that with his mono ski he couldn't feel the bottom, poor bloke!

Its nice to leave your mark (Steve Baldwin)