Teufelsschloss
BY way of a little preliminary training for more strenuous things to come, the season opened for my wife and myself with a brief visit to the charming mountain-resort of Öie on Norangsfjord, on the west coast of Norway. This lies in the Sunnmöre (erstwhile Sondmöre) Group on the extreme north-west of the Jotunheim district, where the mountains are perhaps of rather more Alpine aspect than in many parts of Norway, and good glacier-work, as well as rock-climbing, can be obtained in great variety. Ascents were made of Slogen (5,114ft.), Kjeipen, and Smörskredtind, the latter by the Western Arête (often incorrectly referred to as North-west Arête), with descent, mostly glissading, by the north-west face to the new Patchell hut. One’s recollections of this delightful region are intimately bound up with two somewhat distinct features: the hospitality of Mr. C. W. Patchell, the presiding genius at Öie for the last thirty-five years, after whom the said hut is named; and also the wonderfully lengthy glissades obtainable thus early in the season – about 2,000 ft. in the case of Slogen! Such snow, however, must have speedily disappeared, for it was a season of quite exceptional dryness and sunniness in this part of Norway.
From Öie it was but a four-hours’ run up the fjord to the important port of Aalesund, whence we eventually sailed for East Greenland on June 28th. Our expeditionary ship, the Veslekari, was a sealing sloop of about 180 tons burden, and for the purpose she had been fitted out in style and degree of comfort quite unusual for the Arctic. We hugged the coast of Norway as far north as the Lofoten Islands, and thence struck westward across the Greenland Sea to Jan Mayen, that remote and remarkable island which lies some 350 miles north-east of Iceland.
Jan Mayen was subject to volcanic activity probably within historic times, though it has now reached what is called the "solfatara stage," and only jets of hot air or gas in a few localities are in evidence. This remote island of only 32 miles in length is dominated by the great dormant cone of Beerenberg, rising to but a few short of 8,000 ft. directly from the sea. Its flanks, once the channels of molten lava streams, are now the run-ways of great glaciers; and no more remarkable sight of such a character, where glacier competes with frozen lava over several thousand feet of descent, can be seen than on the western side of this beautifully symmetrical mountain. Mr. J. M. Wordie's Cambridge party of 1921 made the first ascent of this unusual peak, and though hampered by mist at the summit, they reported a thrilling impression formed by the scene from the crater rim, where one looked into a glacier-filled bowl of vast proportions. Through a remarkable breach in the northern rim pours the Weyprecht Glacier in a series of wonderfull ice-falls to the sea some 7,500 ft. below.
At least two of our party, with the mountain fever strong upon us after four days' imprisonment in a rolling sloop, were anxious to view and photograph this summit scene, as well as ascertain the actual size of the crater, and the writer had designs on a collection of volcanic rocks to supplement that made by Wordie from the upper parts of the mountain. Having camped at about 2,600 ft. on the south-west slopes of the mountain, Walter A. Wood (A.C.) and I made our way up vast névé slopes, in thick mist, to an altitude of 5,300 ft. by aneroid. A circuitous route amongst large crevasses followed, and at 6,000 ft. a sudden and short-lived clearing of the atmosphere revealed an astonishing view of the glacier we had come up, and the barren lava fields beyond to the ocean. Ahead of us lay a wide snow couloir sweeping up to the ice-encrusted rim of the crater. It was apparent that this was the route of Wordie's party, and wishing to adopt his suggested alternative for the upper part, and in order to examine some rock outcrops en route, we struck across the couloir to its northern confining buttress, which gave a mostly steep ice-climb to the top. We looked over the edge into a mist-filled abyss and longed in vain for a glimpse of the ice-filled crater said to be half a mile in diameter. We climbed along the crater rim in a northerly direction over several ice-towers, and just as we were deciding to retreat, owing to driving hail, a startlingly close lightning flash and simultaneous peal of thunder drove us precipitately off the exposed summit. The ice being in good condition we were able to make good use of our crampons in a part run and glissade, by numerous short cuts, down to our camp, which we reached in two hours from the summit, compared with seven hours for the ascent. Following through to the coast, and making a brief visit to the observation station of the Austrian Polar Year party, we were on board the Veslekari by 11 p.m. Our last sight of Beerenberg next day was one of this superb mountain clear from crater-rim to sea-girt base, its glacier draperies dazzlingly reflecting the golden arctic sun.
The East Greenland pack-ice belt gave no trouble this year, and we reached the historic headland, Hope-with-Hope (lat. 73°), by July 13th. But land-fast ice hugged the entrance to Franz Josef Fjord, which was to be our route to operations in the interior near its head. Meanwhile we busied ourselves for 10 days in the coastal fringe of islands, and the lower hill and tundra country around Mackenzie Bay, although by dint of a lengthy track I managed to catch the Giesecke Mountains, and ascend a great flat-topped summit called Breidhausen of not more than 3,000 ft. Herds of musk-oxen were seen, and numerous arctic hares, but no hungry polar bears that might have warranted the additional item of a gun amongst one's equipment, and load of collected specimens, during a hard sixteen hours' trek: one soon learnt to dispense with these modern weapons, and rely solely, in case of eventualities, on one's trusty ice-axe or geological hammer!
By July 23rd the ice in Franz Josef Fjord had eased, and we commenced our voyage up this great and spectacular water-way, which runs 100 miles inland to glaciers descending directly from the ice-cap. After some geological work on the western side of Ymer Island we crossed to Andrée Land in order to examine the neighbourhood of the remarkable mountain, named by the Austro-German Expedition in 1870 "Teufelsschloss" (or "Devil’s Castle"). This rises abruptly from the fjord to a height of about 4,300 ft., and its precipices arc of stratiform quartzites and shells of most varied and intensest hues. The mountain must have been the subject of admiration, and perchance of challenge, to everyone who has passed by, and certainly not the least so to us. Its impregnable walls on all sides seemed to offer little hope of an ascent except by the stiffest of climbs. However, from an anchorage in a little bay on its north-western side it could be seen that the upper crags threw down great slopes of scree which would effectively reduce the length of severer ascent.
Wood and I left the shore at the unusual hour, for such a task, of 4. p.m., Such, however, are the advantages of these northern latitudes that one cannot be benighted, and on many occasions summits were visited within the midnight hours; 1,500 ft. of screes was surmounted in forty minutes, and .html 1,500 ft. of scrambling up rotten rock brought us to the foot of a vertical wall of yellow quartzite. Cracks and chimneys were soon espied, and not more than 400 ft. of excellent climbing gave out on the scree-covered south-west shoulder of the mountain. There to our surprise, and almost disgust, we saw that at this corner (S.S.W.) an ascent could be made by easy steps and scree runs almost to the plateau-like summit. The highest point on the south-east side of the latter was reached at 7.45, and finding no signs of a previous ascent we duly recorded the occasion by a cairn, and completed thc record by inserting a grape-juice bottle therein. A more astounding view of vividly coloured peaks around, and of the deep blue ice-flecked fjord far below, it would be hard to imagine, but as on all these occasions the business of topographical and geological survey in hand kept us more than occupied during the full hour spent on the summit. By means of the easier slopes spotted on the ascent we made all speed downward, and reached the shore within six hours of our departure therefrom. The Veslekari was all excitement to be off in answer to a wireless call for help from the Norwegian Government ship ashore in a fjord some 100 miles to the southward. All that night we proceeded at about 9 knots, which was well in excess of our normal full speed, only to hear by morning that the stranded vessel had meanwhile been refloated.
Our next objective was Ice Fjord, whose narrow winding canon is notorious for its icebergs. However, last summer was so favourable in this respect that we had no difficulty in steaming to its head. Here one was pent in by steep mountain walls and the great ice fronts of the Jätte and De Geer Glaciers, which descend from the Inland Ice. These are wont to "calve" immense bergs from time to time, setting up veritable "tidal" waves, and covering the fjord with ice-blocks of all sizes. No footing on these dangerously active ice-fronts could be obtained, and our only access into the mountains was by one steep valley whose glacier did not reach the fjord. A geological reconnaissance was made into these previously unexplored mountains, and from a camp at about 3,700 ft., in the course of two hard days, a good many summits of between 7,000 and 8,000 ft. were explored and roughly mapped. Looking southward from one of these we could see Petermann Peak, the highest of the region (9,650 ft.), the first ascent of which was made by Wordie’s Cambridge party in 1929. But what in this view were of even greater interest were, apparently, Wordie’s "Mystery Lakes," lying in ice-free country between us and Petermann Peak, and beyond a great bend of the Jätte Glacier.
Our immediate interest now lay in the unexplored country between Petermann Peak and the Jätte Glacier, a complicated tract of mountain-nunatakkr and glaciers bordering the Inland Ice-cap. Access to this seemed more promising from the head of the Franz Josef Fjord than Ice Fjord, and August 5th saw us making our way up to the former, via what must be one of the most impressively spectacular water-ways in the world. At one point the great cliffs of Attestupan fall 5,900 ft. sheer into the water, and glaciers plunge down to the water’s edge from similar elevations. Into the head of the Franz Josef Fjord flows the great Nordenskiöld Glacier, which, as is usual with these active arctic ice-streams, contributes its quota of bergs and ice-debris to the waters of the fjord, and some seasons makes it impossible to approach within 4 or 5 miles of the ice-front. In this respect conditions were favourable last summer, for we were able to make a landing on the north side of the fjord, at a point which often is quite impossible of access. A not too promising opening in the abrupt mountain barrier suggested a possible way in to the district of the "Mystery Lakes." An exciting preliminary reconnaissance showed that this was the case, and during a long day’s trek from the fjord two of us reached the snout of Wordie’s Gregory Glacier, from which we could view the "Mystery Lakes" at close quarters. A chain of camps was established and a survey of the district by photo-theodolite accomplished. The Lakes themselves, if not mysterious, turned out to be of considerable interest. An upper one of about ¾ mile in length drained into a lower one of larger size, which was pent up by the great lateral wall of the Jätte Glacier. Scattered around the lake basin, but above the present surface of the late, were huge blocks of ice, one of which was 50 ft. in height. Examination showed that the lake was none other than a "Marjelen See," which periodically increased or diminished in volume according to the drainage facilities in the retaining ice-dam of the moving Jätte Glacier, and that during a higher stand of the lake level bergs must have "calved" from the ice-cliff, now towering some 500 ft. above the water, and floated out to present anomalous positions. During a first exploration these lakes, my wife and I also made our way some miles the great Jätte Glacier itself, in the direction of the Inland , but one’s movements on this gigantic ice-stream were impeded by its pinnacled and crevassed surface. Important geological evidence was, however, obtained from its moraines, as well as from the great mountain faces of the Petermann Range cut by the glacier and seen in section in its upper reaches.
Attention was now paid to the latter range, extending north from Petermann Peak itself, as well as to the mountains south of the Gregory Glacier. Several fine summits were ascended either in company with my wife or with Walter Wood. Of these the chief were a fine Rothorn-like peak of about 8,700 ft., rising some 10 miles to the north of Petermann Peak, and second or third only to it in altitude in the immediate neighbourhood; and Nathorst Peak (ca. 7,800 ft.), lying between the Gregory and Nordenskiöld Glaciers. The former gave in its upper parts over 2,000 ft. of rockclimbing and scrambling on excellently firm quartzite, all with perfect inward dip, as well as a midnight view of unspeakably delicate tinting over Inland Ice and mountain nunatak, from a remarkably sharp and isolated summit. This point seems to be identifiable with Wordie’s Mount "Gog" as seen from the Cambridge Peaks across the Nordenskiöld Glacier (see Geographical Journal, Sept. 1927, opp. page 229).
Nathorst Peak yielded, besides important topographical and geological data, an expedition of great variety, and from our northern approach a successful issue seemed at first by no means assured. The northern face drops in great precipices to a very steep and broken glacier, and an extensive flanking movement to the south-west was at once indicated. This led us up the Gregory Glacier, almost to the foot of Petermann Peak, and thence north-eastward over a glacier pass and a number of subsidiary summits to a lofty saddle perched at 7,000 ft. between a remarkable yellowish granite feature, dubbed by us "Orange Crest," and Nathorst Peak itself. The final 600 to 700 ft. gave a climb that under worse snow conditions might have proved really hard, and from the summit it appeared that the eastern arête should probably make the easier final approach. But from whatever side the peak is attacked it will always be a worthy expedition. An hour of observations on the narrow crest with a chilly wind and temperature of 23°F., drove us precipitately down to the saddle, and wishing to avoid the long detour to the south-west, we decided on a direct descent of the steep northern face. Donning crampons, we embarked on a hard ice couloir at a measured inclination of 40-45°, which led us in one fell swoop of 1,000 ft. to a steep cascading glacier, and thence through well-sealed crevasses to the main "Nathorst Glacier," whose junction with the Gregory Glacier, some 1,200 ft. above us, we had crossed earlier in the day. This precipitate descent, totalling 3,100 ft. in fifty minutes, cut off without doubt many miles of detour, but the long return to our nearest camp in the Gregory Valley, heavily loaded as we were with rock specimens and instruments, seemed to eke out a sufficiently lengthy expedition of nineteen hours.
An interesting geographical discovery hereabouts was the fact that the Gregory Glacier is in two parts, the upper portion, which swings past the foot of Petermann Peak, taking an abrupt turn to the south-east out of its natural valley and flowing into the Nordenskiöld Glacier on the north side of Nathorst Peak. The apparent lower continuation of the Gregory Glacier, towards the "Mystery Lakes," as seen by Wordie’s party from the top of Petermann Peak, is in actuality .html glacier whose head snows lie in a cirque some 5 or 6 miles north of that peak. Other expeditions in the neighbourhood, some of which had to be accomplished solo, and which if particularly strenuous and lengthy on account of concurrent topographical and geological work, yet afforded some of the most delightful days that it has yet been my lot to spend in the mountains, whether of higher or lower latitudes.
I am indebted to Mr. M. L. L. Parkinson for the two photographs illustrating this article, my own photographs being still in America.