The North Face Mountain Festival
My North Face Mountain Festival
4 days ago I’d never been attacked by an Alpine Fox, but that was 4 days ago.
Travel is the ultimate addiction. Make no mistake mankind is made to explore the unknown. It’s a deep primordial urge that drives us. “What if there is a better place?“ you keep asking yourself, as though you need to find better drinking water and a cave with no bears for your family. We may no longer face the bear threats or live in caves but I attest to the fact that this travel instinct is as strong as ever.
I’d come to Switzerland to seek out a new challenge but mostly driven by the desire to delve into the unknown. Never stop exploring. My primary goal was to hike up the Eiger in order to remember 2 friends who’d been taken too early; one as a result of severe depression, and the other as a result of a heart attack at 36, reminders that every moment is precious. I’d managed to meet my charity goal for PTSD UK veterans so all that was left to do was get up the Eiger. I camped at the Base in Grund and examined the summit from the hotel. It was shrouded in cloud standing ominously above me. The top, peaking through every so often like a giants eyes. A few photos, and a general exploration of town, I was down for the count early. Nothing would occur during this night that was out of the ordinary.
I’d wake to find a message about my itinerary for the north face mountain festival. The north face mountain festival gives people to chance to train with elite athletes and get involved in a multitude of extreme sports and adventures. I may get to head up the Eiger with some of the world’s best trail runners or climb Switzerland with the best in the world. I hastily packed up my tent and went to relocate nearby to the festival. Sighting a destroyed rubbish bin in a field near my tent I wandered over to investigate. I grabbed the gnawed contents and binned them. A fox I presumed all too nonchalantly. I headed over to the NFMF event through Interlaken and arrived to setup my tent about 1030. It wasn’t long before I’d met a host of new excited adventures like myself and began registering for activities.
Day one would see me climbing and training with heroes of mine from North face. I was blown away. Nico belayed me up a face in Brienzwiller and gave me more information in 1 hr than I’d had in my life. I was rusty as hell and often felt embarrassed at my lack of knowledge but Nico put me at ease yelling up the cliff face, come on Marco you have this! I didn’t want to correct the name alteration. I liked being Marco for a day. Drones buzzed around us and Benreadphotography sailed up a fixed line to get a better perspective. I captured all the madness from below on my rig, grinning ear to ear. How on earth had I got this lucky? A German climber dropped off the wall at a particularly tricky section before she could clip a fixed line. She plummeted a good 3 meters before calmly pushing into the wall and trying again.
Some ascents later under the overhanging cliffs and we were done. Assembling for a group photo, we lept into the air then clambered back aboard the bus. Back at camp I met up with my mates from Liverpool who also happened to be camp site aficionados (picking a cracking spot with an unspoiled view next to mine. These lads were legends. They were happy, friendly and genuine; my kind of people. Before I’d leave them we would have done Scottish dancing, shared a stage, a fire, a brew and a few tales of adventure.
That night I prepped for the Eiger with a night hike up from the festival, chatting with the friendly local mountain guide at the front. He was a well of knowledge and even saved a jet black salamander from being trampled by our troop. He explained it was one of the few salamanders that had evolved to miss a cycle of its hibernation if required and that it would also be able to delay a pregnancy! Far out. I kept on asking questions the whole hike and drew from his knowledge base on the area like a sponge. We made excellent time and arrived back into Interlaken with time to spare, wet but happy.
The north face team were setting off at 9am to do the Eiger trail. I would start at 7am from a place fittingly called Grund. My hike would be some 3hrs in before the north face guys even started the Eiger Trail. As I headed higher and higher into altitude it got harder to walk and even to think. Occasionally I’d double back on myself after a wrong turn which happened to yield some cracking snaps.
The north face fliers lead me into the Eiger trail. An old and wizened German man confirmed I was in the right place with a hearty grin and gestured me on my way due to my poor German. I’d not been trekking on the Eiger Trail long before the north face runner sailed past at a brisk pace for the altitude and sheerness of the terrain. All beaming white smiles as they tore past. I pushed on, quite fatigued but sure I would finish this trail no matter what. A second group of runners from North face came flying up the trail. I fired off a few frames and joined them whilst chatting. My pace would not match there’s though and it was with reluctance I peeled off and took some more photos.
Some ways down the trail I was going to replace my lens cap after a frames and I stopped. It wasn’t here. A brand new 82mm lens cap, gone and I knew just bloody where! I reluctantly turned around knowing the walk could save my lens far more expensive scratches during the trip. The downhill was fast as hell and the cap was just where I remembered, it was, hard to spot but there it sat, my black trophy to protect my lens. The tracking back up was less joyful. But I made good pace and soon discovered new territory.
I wasn’t long before I sighted a whole range of high altitude flowers. A black bee was seemingly frozen to one, as though the mountain weather of autumn hit so fast he froze to death, immortalised in he worked.
I reached the Base of the sheer part of the Eiger and so the trail that ran off towards the north face climbs. I’d added far more layers by this point and was running low on food. Still in shorts but gloved, triple layered and hooded I pushed on into the fog and rain. Every step sapped so much energy. The second it leveled out I’d break into a run and try stay true to the ultra run. Arriving at the end of the trail I was gone. I’d taken a tumble earlier on my back track and cramped severely. It was threatening to do so again with each step. The top of the mountain wasn’t visible at all. The scramble I’d hope to investigate towards the summit on the west face, not even an option and downright foolish in the conditions. I turned right away from the climb to the summit and began to descend happy to still see the north face banners guiding me.
I arrived at an Oasis like pool, so green it reminded me of the shores around Thurso in Scotland. It was barely real and so utterly beautiful. I dunked my head in and took some more photos, resisting the urge to get stark naked and dive in.
Descending the rest of the way I ran at a decent pace and came into the train station that gives you access to the top of Europe. I went for a wander to buy my ticket and encountered the same German man who had sent me on my way up the Eiger trial. He smiled and we both exchanged fractured German\English congratulations with each other.
Ticket in hand I skipped the next train and went up towards one of the oldest hotels I’ve ever seen. The old revolving door welcomed me in and 100s of years of climbing adorned the walls. It felt like a time capsule, I’d sailed back into the early 1930s Swiss climbing times.
The waitress was full of knowledge and seeing my enthusiasm for the history grabbed me a pamphlet that took me on a walk through time. I took it in and glanced out into the mist intermittently as I read. The time flew and before long I was dashing off down to the station and on the train back to Grund. Back down in Grund I went back to my car and treated myself to a hearty schnitzel at my favourite hotel and campsite. The hostess there recommended local climbs and hikes as I ate and we both talked of our next adventure plans.
Full and content I jumped in the car and shot back to Interlaken where the NFMF was still going strong. I ran back into my mates from Liverpool and we shared our tales from the day. We danced and drank into to the night quite merrily with likeminded adventurers. I’ve never heard the chant 1 more song so many times. It finished in classic style with some crowd surfing to Nirvana that transitioned into Gailey dancing to the Red bull DJ.
The morning arrived a little too quickly and before long I was in a local climbing center in Interlaken nursing a mild hangover but mostly just hungry. I was getting more climbing training from the north face guys this time, James and Carolina, a super strong climbing couple from North Face. They’ve climbed some incredibly challenging peaks all over the world. James showed me how to lead a climb and get the hang of putting in fixed lines. The simple art of placing the clip had far more skill than I originally realised and his tips were rock solid. I finished up incorporating everything into a big 6a route I’d lead and then tackled in one. It felt fantastic.
When we got back the festival was winding down but everyone was happy and exchanging goodbyes. I disassembled my gear and headed back to Grindelwald. It was great to take some time to study trails maps and study the hotel paraphernalia where I was staying, also steeped in its own history. With a belly full of hot chocolate eggs and beans I eventually went to bed.
Before I’d even rested my eyes I heard my bin bag dragged off. That blasted fox, it had to be! 5 minutes later he struck again at the rear of the tent dragging of my toiletries! What in blazes! All my food was resting against 1wall of the tent and it was then that it escalated. You’ll never see anything quite as creepy as the outline of mouth and claws trying to push through the side of a tent. I bashed against the wall and yelled at the fox. Oi! Very Australian. This was too much! I pulled on my head lamp and popped out off the tent... Where are those eyes…? Gotcha. He sat in the field nearby over his egg bin prize, glaring back at me defiantly. The cheeky bugger didn’t even move. I closed in on him and filmed his departure as he moved away then off to some fox hole closer to town.
Back into the tent now I gathered my food and put it all inside a sleeping bag case to mask the smell and then bagged that in an Aldi thick bag to help further. I googled fox attacks on tents and regretfully stumbled onto an article where a father of 2 had his face bitten apart by a fox in his tent! Fantastic reading material given my current situation. Figuring the worst of it was over I finally pushed off to sleep.
4am, and I awake to a God awful gnashing and scratching in front of my face. The little blighter was trying to break through the tent wall and had pierced through. I bashed against what I assume was his face and claws then popped out of the tent trying to find his eyes. Eerily, there was no sign off him. It sure wasn’t a dream as my tent bore the claw marks and a gaping hole. I pulled the Aldi bag from the tent and put it in the car. He would have to get through steel if he wanted those eggs now. Check mate alpine fox. Lesson learnt `Marco.
Travel is the ultimate addiction. Make no mistake mankind is made to explore the unknown. It’s a deep primordial urge that drives us. “What if there is a better place?“ you keep asking yourself, as though you need to find better drinking water and a cave with no bears for your family. We may no longer face the bear threats or live in caves but I attest to the fact that this travel instinct is as strong as ever.
I’d come to Switzerland to seek out a new challenge but mostly driven by the desire to delve into the unknown. Never stop exploring. My primary goal was to hike up the Eiger in order to remember 2 friends who’d been taken too early; one as a result of severe depression, and the other as a result of a heart attack at 36, reminders that every moment is precious. I’d managed to meet my charity goal for PTSD UK veterans so all that was left to do was get up the Eiger. I camped at the Base in Grund and examined the summit from the hotel. It was shrouded in cloud standing ominously above me. The top, peaking through every so often like a giants eyes. A few photos, and a general exploration of town, I was down for the count early. Nothing would occur during this night that was out of the ordinary.
I’d wake to find a message about my itinerary for the north face mountain festival. The north face mountain festival gives people to chance to train with elite athletes and get involved in a multitude of extreme sports and adventures. I may get to head up the Eiger with some of the world’s best trail runners or climb Switzerland with the best in the world. I hastily packed up my tent and went to relocate nearby to the festival. Sighting a destroyed rubbish bin in a field near my tent I wandered over to investigate. I grabbed the gnawed contents and binned them. A fox I presumed all too nonchalantly. I headed over to the NFMF event through Interlaken and arrived to setup my tent about 1030. It wasn’t long before I’d met a host of new excited adventures like myself and began registering for activities.
Day one would see me climbing and training with heroes of mine from North face. I was blown away. Nico belayed me up a face in Brienzwiller and gave me more information in 1 hr than I’d had in my life. I was rusty as hell and often felt embarrassed at my lack of knowledge but Nico put me at ease yelling up the cliff face, come on Marco you have this! I didn’t want to correct the name alteration. I liked being Marco for a day. Drones buzzed around us and Benreadphotography sailed up a fixed line to get a better perspective. I captured all the madness from below on my rig, grinning ear to ear. How on earth had I got this lucky? A German climber dropped off the wall at a particularly tricky section before she could clip a fixed line. She plummeted a good 3 meters before calmly pushing into the wall and trying again.
Some ascents later under the overhanging cliffs and we were done. Assembling for a group photo, we lept into the air then clambered back aboard the bus. Back at camp I met up with my mates from Liverpool who also happened to be camp site aficionados (picking a cracking spot with an unspoiled view next to mine. These lads were legends. They were happy, friendly and genuine; my kind of people. Before I’d leave them we would have done Scottish dancing, shared a stage, a fire, a brew and a few tales of adventure.
That night I prepped for the Eiger with a night hike up from the festival, chatting with the friendly local mountain guide at the front. He was a well of knowledge and even saved a jet black salamander from being trampled by our troop. He explained it was one of the few salamanders that had evolved to miss a cycle of its hibernation if required and that it would also be able to delay a pregnancy! Far out. I kept on asking questions the whole hike and drew from his knowledge base on the area like a sponge. We made excellent time and arrived back into Interlaken with time to spare, wet but happy.
The north face team were setting off at 9am to do the Eiger trail. I would start at 7am from a place fittingly called Grund. My hike would be some 3hrs in before the north face guys even started the Eiger Trail. As I headed higher and higher into altitude it got harder to walk and even to think. Occasionally I’d double back on myself after a wrong turn which happened to yield some cracking snaps.
The north face fliers lead me into the Eiger trail. An old and wizened German man confirmed I was in the right place with a hearty grin and gestured me on my way due to my poor German. I’d not been trekking on the Eiger Trail long before the north face runner sailed past at a brisk pace for the altitude and sheerness of the terrain. All beaming white smiles as they tore past. I pushed on, quite fatigued but sure I would finish this trail no matter what. A second group of runners from North face came flying up the trail. I fired off a few frames and joined them whilst chatting. My pace would not match there’s though and it was with reluctance I peeled off and took some more photos.
Some ways down the trail I was going to replace my lens cap after a frames and I stopped. It wasn’t here. A brand new 82mm lens cap, gone and I knew just bloody where! I reluctantly turned around knowing the walk could save my lens far more expensive scratches during the trip. The downhill was fast as hell and the cap was just where I remembered, it was, hard to spot but there it sat, my black trophy to protect my lens. The tracking back up was less joyful. But I made good pace and soon discovered new territory.
I wasn’t long before I sighted a whole range of high altitude flowers. A black bee was seemingly frozen to one, as though the mountain weather of autumn hit so fast he froze to death, immortalised in he worked.
I reached the Base of the sheer part of the Eiger and so the trail that ran off towards the north face climbs. I’d added far more layers by this point and was running low on food. Still in shorts but gloved, triple layered and hooded I pushed on into the fog and rain. Every step sapped so much energy. The second it leveled out I’d break into a run and try stay true to the ultra run. Arriving at the end of the trail I was gone. I’d taken a tumble earlier on my back track and cramped severely. It was threatening to do so again with each step. The top of the mountain wasn’t visible at all. The scramble I’d hope to investigate towards the summit on the west face, not even an option and downright foolish in the conditions. I turned right away from the climb to the summit and began to descend happy to still see the north face banners guiding me.
I arrived at an Oasis like pool, so green it reminded me of the shores around Thurso in Scotland. It was barely real and so utterly beautiful. I dunked my head in and took some more photos, resisting the urge to get stark naked and dive in.
Descending the rest of the way I ran at a decent pace and came into the train station that gives you access to the top of Europe. I went for a wander to buy my ticket and encountered the same German man who had sent me on my way up the Eiger trial. He smiled and we both exchanged fractured German\English congratulations with each other.
Ticket in hand I skipped the next train and went up towards one of the oldest hotels I’ve ever seen. The old revolving door welcomed me in and 100s of years of climbing adorned the walls. It felt like a time capsule, I’d sailed back into the early 1930s Swiss climbing times.
The waitress was full of knowledge and seeing my enthusiasm for the history grabbed me a pamphlet that took me on a walk through time. I took it in and glanced out into the mist intermittently as I read. The time flew and before long I was dashing off down to the station and on the train back to Grund. Back down in Grund I went back to my car and treated myself to a hearty schnitzel at my favourite hotel and campsite. The hostess there recommended local climbs and hikes as I ate and we both talked of our next adventure plans.
Full and content I jumped in the car and shot back to Interlaken where the NFMF was still going strong. I ran back into my mates from Liverpool and we shared our tales from the day. We danced and drank into to the night quite merrily with likeminded adventurers. I’ve never heard the chant 1 more song so many times. It finished in classic style with some crowd surfing to Nirvana that transitioned into Gailey dancing to the Red bull DJ.
The morning arrived a little too quickly and before long I was in a local climbing center in Interlaken nursing a mild hangover but mostly just hungry. I was getting more climbing training from the north face guys this time, James and Carolina, a super strong climbing couple from North Face. They’ve climbed some incredibly challenging peaks all over the world. James showed me how to lead a climb and get the hang of putting in fixed lines. The simple art of placing the clip had far more skill than I originally realised and his tips were rock solid. I finished up incorporating everything into a big 6a route I’d lead and then tackled in one. It felt fantastic.
When we got back the festival was winding down but everyone was happy and exchanging goodbyes. I disassembled my gear and headed back to Grindelwald. It was great to take some time to study trails maps and study the hotel paraphernalia where I was staying, also steeped in its own history. With a belly full of hot chocolate eggs and beans I eventually went to bed.
Before I’d even rested my eyes I heard my bin bag dragged off. That blasted fox, it had to be! 5 minutes later he struck again at the rear of the tent dragging of my toiletries! What in blazes! All my food was resting against 1wall of the tent and it was then that it escalated. You’ll never see anything quite as creepy as the outline of mouth and claws trying to push through the side of a tent. I bashed against the wall and yelled at the fox. Oi! Very Australian. This was too much! I pulled on my head lamp and popped out off the tent... Where are those eyes…? Gotcha. He sat in the field nearby over his egg bin prize, glaring back at me defiantly. The cheeky bugger didn’t even move. I closed in on him and filmed his departure as he moved away then off to some fox hole closer to town.
Back into the tent now I gathered my food and put it all inside a sleeping bag case to mask the smell and then bagged that in an Aldi thick bag to help further. I googled fox attacks on tents and regretfully stumbled onto an article where a father of 2 had his face bitten apart by a fox in his tent! Fantastic reading material given my current situation. Figuring the worst of it was over I finally pushed off to sleep.
4am, and I awake to a God awful gnashing and scratching in front of my face. The little blighter was trying to break through the tent wall and had pierced through. I bashed against what I assume was his face and claws then popped out of the tent trying to find his eyes. Eerily, there was no sign off him. It sure wasn’t a dream as my tent bore the claw marks and a gaping hole. I pulled the Aldi bag from the tent and put it in the car. He would have to get through steel if he wanted those eggs now. Check mate alpine fox. Lesson learnt `Marco.
