The competition is open for entries now and members of the public have until 5pm on 19 April to submit their adventurous ideas.  Berghaus and Keswick Mountain Festival will select a shortlist of five, who will be invited to make a five minute presentation in the Adventure Theatre at 4.00pm on 18 May.  A combination of the judging panel and public acclaim will decide the overall winner, but every shortlisted entrant will receive a jacket and rucksack from the latest Berghaus range.  To submit an entry visit www.berghaus.com/challenge, where you can also find out more about the challenge and read the full terms and conditions of the competition.

Now in its seventh year, Keswick Mountain Festival will run from 15 to 19 May and boasts its biggest ever programme of speakers, activities and exhibitors.  For more information about the festival and to get involved, visit www.keswickmountainfestival.co.uk, call 01539 729048 or send a message to lucy@keswickmountainfestival.co.uk.  For more information about Berghaus visit www.berghaus.com.

In April 2013, Sophie will be embarking upon a long-distance hike called the Pacific Crest Trail. This is a 4,200km multi-terrain trail that starts at the Mexican border and finishes at the Canadian border.

Sophie’s reaction to our email informing her she had won is below:

“The continual refreshing of the Berghaus Adventure Challenge shortlist page; the relentless harassment of friends and strangers; the nervousness and that terrifying last ten minutes of the online vote were probably more gruelling than anything a hike from Mexico to Canada could offer! But the joy and relief that come with winning made it all worthwhile.  I could not be more grateful to everyone that voted (and also apologetic for being so annoying and persistent) and to Berghaus for offering people the chance to be able to win funding towards their adventures.

I would also like to wish the One Steppe Ahead team and Mark (you were a terrifying contender) all the best for their expeditions”.

Visit Berghaus Online Store

For outdoor clothing from Berghaus including men’s waterproof jackets, men’s rucksacks and more then please visit our online store.

You can find a wide range of gear for climbing, hill walking, mountain biking and other activities.

Choose from a range of cutting edge waterproof jackets, fleeces, trousers & more from Berghaus.

Sunday morning dawned fairly damp and miserable, I on the other hand was cheerful as I was now experienced in winter conditions!  The forecast low cloud base had materialised and the impromptu change of plan suggested by Des yesterday evening seemed particularly sensible.  Fortunately we had haggis for breakfast for compensation and soon after we were fully geared-up and ready to go.The venue chosen for today’s adventure was the Pap of Glencoe (Sgorr na Ciche) conveniently located near our hotel and on the banks Loch Leven.  At 742m the view from the summit should be fantastic but we did not have high hopes of views as we decamped from the cars.Despite the weather our spirits were high as we set off from essentially sea-level with a fair climb ahead.  This started off on a steep gravel path that led to some waterworks.  With some navigation magic from our guides the nearly hidden path that led up from the waterworks was found and were soon suitably off-road.  After some time striding across boggy ferns and large boulders we stopped for a short break and attempted to enjoy the view.  Rain had intermittently been falling and unfortunately cloud obscured the majority of where we had come from and also the peak ahead.

At nearly 500m we reached a flatter part of the Pap that formed a slight saddle between peaks.  This respite in terrain was not to last long as with the path temporarily avoiding us we simply turned toward the peak and set off straight up the slope.  We were now traversing some tricky boulder areas interspersed with slippery wet mud which proved to be more difficult than expected.  On one particularly slippy bit I lost traction with my prosthetic foot, fell awkwardly and managed to activate the failsafe mechanism that protects my bone implant from undue force.  The result of this first ever hill-side failsafe activation was my prosthetic leg making a bid for freedom whilst I sprawled in the ferns.  Fortunately my leg didn’t get far and I was able to reattach it without difficulty and carry on – not a sentence that many ‘mountaineers’ can include in a description of their adventures!  This episode did provide Des with some food for thought as he contemplated my leg disappearing over the edge of some treacherous Moroccan ledge but Grace (prosthetic engineer) and I assured him it would be safely tethered to me for the big event.  In hindsight, we should have got that ready for Scotland – oops!

Monday

Monday morning provided the last opportunity for haggis which I’m pleased to say that most of us took advantage of.  We then sadly packed our gear away, crammed it all in the hire cars and headed for the airport.  We had sufficient time for the obligatory ‘after’ photo whilst waiting to board then our mini-break was truly over.  Not long until Toubkal now…

In 2010 a group of civilian amputees, physios, prosthetists and friends trekked to the summit of Kilimanjaro to raise funds for the Limbless Association.  United by a taste for further adventure, the core of this group have stayed in contact and continue to walk regularly. Our de facto leader suggested that we tackle Mount Toubkal in the Moroccan High Atlas range in order to introduce us to mountain walking in winter conditions and this is what we are attempting.  Amongst the Toubkal sub-group there are three amputees, one of which is myself.  I lost my right leg above the knee in a motorbike accident getting on for twenty years ago now and for the majority of that time I was fairly restricted in what I could manage walking-wise.  Three years ago all that changed…  I was fortunate to be chosen to participate in a trial of a novel method of attaching prosthetics via a bone implant that protrudes through the skin.  I can now attach my leg effectively to my skeleton, removing the biggest impediment to amputees – how the prosthetic fits to the person.  As a result of this I have dramatically improved physical capabilities and am yet to find out the limit of what I can do!  In order to train for Toubkal, get a taste of winter walking and in my case find out if my prosthetic would cope with crampon walking, our little band set off for a long weekend in Scotland.  Here’s how we got on:

Thursday

Oh dear – I think a revised bag strategy is going to be required…

I need a long axe as I cannot walk with a bent knee.  Unfortunately my axe is longer than my bag – I don’t think I can take it in hand luggage!

Friday

After successfully meeting up with the rest of the group at the easyjet check-in area of Gatwick’s North terminal, I boarded the plane to Glasgow with a certain amount of trepidation.  I had won the crampon-attachment race at our group’s Christmas get-together but, as my victory was achieved with boot-in-hand, this was not much comfort when it came to contemplating whether I would be able to walk with my prosthetic leg in the winter conditions that demand the use of this serious gear.  There was only one way to find out if I would be physically able to participate in the trip to climb Mount Toubkal and the plane north was the first stage in getting to the snow.

We arrived in Glasgow without incident then had much fun cramming the twelve of ourselves and our stuff into two hired people carriers.  Our (self-appointed) supreme leader Alan had insisted that we keep our gear to a minimum, to the extent that the number of permitted underpants per person was theoretically limited, but this had not made the packing of the cars particularly easy.  With the two smallest members of our party safely lodged in the third row of seats and the bags crammed in around them we set off for Glencoe.

Despite the darkness setting in, we began to appreciate the grandeur of our surroundings as we made our way north along the banks of Loch Lomond.  After leaving the loch behind we were sufficiently on schedule that we found the famous ‘Green Welly Stop’ in Tyndrum still open.  After extracting everyone from the cars we were able to stock up on essential supplies for the weekend.  I did not need to buy anything at the road-side as I had wisely bought chicken tikka slices before leaving England (they are the best hill food imaginable, I know you don’t believe me, just try one on a summit sometime!).  In the now full darkness we completed our journey trying to spot snow on the peaks that loomed out of the night as we made our way along the valley of Glencoe.

The Clachaig Inn welcomed us with its cheery glow and after dumping our stuff we met in the bar for pre-dinner drinks.  This proved to be an opportune moment to give Alan small tokens of our affection as he had cunningly arranged for the first day of our trip to fall on his birthday.  It was with a growing sense of anticipation that I knocked back a couple of lovely pints of ale from Skye whilst we tried to persuade the reluctant few amongst us that consuming haggis on the first night in Scotland was an obligatory rite of passage.

In no time at all dinner was a pleasant memory and our guides Des, James and Simon  had come over from the local hostel they were occupying.  If we managed to convince them of the feasibility of the trip, these guys would be taking us up the Atlas Mountains!  After a briefing that described timings and what to expect tomorrow (steep inclines, strong winds, lots of wet gloves and snow) we were asked to get our boots and crampons to demonstrate to the mountain professionals that our gear was up to the task and we knew at least enough to attach one to the other – walking in them was another matter!

After nipping back to the room I returned with my clean and shiny Kibo boots (I had cleaned them thoroughly after each previous use so in hindsight they did look suspiciously unused).  James was unaware that Berghaus made B2 rated boots so was quick to grab them and perform the usual sole flex test.  I am pleased to say they passed with flying colours and this gave me an opportunity to explain about my Berghaus obsession preference and being an ‘Adventure Challenge’ winner.  Still boot-in-hand, I then went on to attach my crampons in record time and a helpful tip from Simon made short work of tidying away the loose end of the strap.

With everyone’s equipment securely attached then detached and put away we were as ready as we could be for tomorrow’s trip into the unknown (snow!).  All that was left to do now was to ensure the quality of the ale remained consistent, which I did with gusto!

Saturday

Saturday’s first priority was breakfast.  Those of the group that like to properly immerse themselves in the culture of the places they visit continued the haggis consumption but all of us were properly fed ready for the day ahead.  On first inspection the weather looked pretty good but it was chilly with a low-ish cloud base and the winds were predicted to get more serious with increasing height.  We set off on the short drive to the start point at the base of ‘Buachaille Etive Beag’ in good spirits, especially as the cars were taking us to 250m without any effort on our part!

After the obligatory ‘before’ photo we naturally took the only footpath that headed up.  This was initially a smooth and well made path which gave way to something more suitably bouldery as we climbed.  We were heading to a saddle between two peaks approximately 500m above us where the plan called for crampons to be attached, we would then head up ‘Stob Coire Raineach’, descend triumphantly, practice self-arrest etc, then get back to the cars before dark.

Our guides had reconnoitred the area on the previous day and had assured us there would be snow.  In the next hour or so they were proved correct and soon the snow had reached sufficient depth that following any path become impossible.  After watching Alan and Paul go waist deep in snow whilst attempting to cross a snow bridge we all proceeded with more care, my B2 boots providing me with sufficient grip without crampons.  As we continued upward the weather unfortunately began to get worse.  After two and a half hours steady ascent we had reached the saddle and also the critical moment – crampon attachment!  The wind had really started to gust strongly by this point so we found the most sheltered spot we could just beneath the saddle top and got to work…

With the wind really whipping around us as we attached crampons ‘in the field’ for the first time.  Our guides checked that we were all okay then I stood up for the first time and found I could walk!  Although I had hoped this would be the case, I was far from certain that all would work out well prior to the trip.  The resistance offered by my right knee is microprocessor controlled rather than under my conscious direction.  Although the algorithms that control what the knee does are very clever, they are not intended for winter mountaineering.  The increased level of traction provided by the crampons actually made walking easier as my usually slippage-prone prosthetic foot was secured in place until I picked it up for the next step.

As the gusty wind had not abated we were led to a more sheltered spot and talked through the basics of walking in crampons, which all looked pretty straightforward know I knew I could probably do it!  Some movements would clearly be beyond my capabilities but Des and I had previously agreed that I would have to improvise and see how everything went.  We then set off up ‘Stob Coire Raineach’ which initially proved reasonable but as we climbed we exposed ourselves more and more to the gusting winds that had begun to get pretty serious.  The terrain continued to be easy enough to negotiate but we started to have to pause during the stronger gusts and mobility had become difficult.  Although I felt secure in my footing, I was quite relieved when Des called off the summit attempt whilst we were still some thirty vertical metres or so from the top as the winds had further increased in ferocity at this point.  After waiting for the present gust to subside, I picked myself up from the crouch that I had adopted to keep myself from being blown off the hill, turned round and began the descent knowing that we had failed in our first crampon assisted ascent but reassured that our leader was a sensible man and that I was able to walk as instructed without spiking myself!

Back down at the saddle we were led to a more sheltered (nursery) slope with greater snow cover and instructed in techniques for straight ascents, descents and self belay.  During the descent I got to put my theoretical knowledge of self-arrest into practice – it was fun!

As the wind had slowed our progress we had had less time for self-arrest practice than we had hoped and it soon became time to descend from the saddle area.  With some reluctance I took off my crampons and we started downward.  On the descent, with the great reduction in traction, I found myself slipping over in snow more than I would have liked but I think I was not the only one of the group having such difficulties.  About half way through our descent we ran out of snow, quickly regained the path, then made rapid progress toward the cars.

Des gathered us together for a quick debrief when we had all made it safely off the hill.  I think he was pleased with our achievements given the nature of the group and now he had seen us in action in ‘proper’ conditions I was just hoping that he thought us capable of attempting Toubkal.

After returning to the hotel we had time for a quick pint and some chips whilst reflecting on the day’s adventures then it was time for a shower before consuming more haggis.  Des and co had returned for tomorrow’s briefing which ruled out further snowy adventures due to unfavourable weather – instead we would be attempting a Graham!

The evening was rounded off by some excellent folk music thanks to Davie Tait, a regular at the Clachaig.  He sang one of my favourite songs; ‘Fairytale of New York’, it was only just under a year early!

Here is a short round up of our winners from 2010:

Our first winners were Justin Featherstone and Tet Staveley who crossed Costa Rica by foot, raft and kayak from the Pacific coast to the Caribbean. The trip took three weeks, testing their stamina and endurance.

Commitment is something that our second winner John Hayes was definitely not lacking in. Setting off in March he planned to walk the 5,000km E4 long distance footpath which took him to Budapest, Hungary, from Tarifa in Spain.

Alaska was the scene for our third winner Guy Wilson and his team who headed there during an unseasonal amount of snow to take on some demanding mountaineering objectives.

Setting an objective of soloing the Troll Wall in Norway was exactly the kind of adventure we were looking for and although Pete Rhodes, our fourth winner, didn’t complete his objective, we admire his courage and determination for having a good crack at it.

A small team, led by Graeme Glover, were our fifth winners, and they headed to Greenland to walk the Fox Jaw cirque area and attempt a new route on a 650m spire. Their attempt also embraced a minimal environmental impact philosophy to preserve the geology and ecology of the area.

Our final winner for 2010 was Matt Tinsley who also headed to an unvisited area of Greenland to tackle new routes and try to bag a few first ascents.

So, have you got an adventure lurking at the back of your mind waiting to become a reality? If so our Adventure Challenge is looking for new expeditions to be considered!

How does it work?

Every month, a panel of experts from Berghaus and Climb magazine will draw up a shortlist of three candidates from the submitted applications and the public will vote for their favourite on www.berghaus.com/challenge. Each winner will be rewarded with £1,000 cash plus £1,000 worth of Berghaus kit.

“Can you believe it? £1000 cash plus £1000 of Berghaus gear every month awarded to the most inspired idea. That is awesome! Get your concept down on paper and let us help you to make it happen.” Leo Houlding

We set up the Adventure Challenge to help people achieve their dream adventure by providing £1000 worth of Berghaus kit and £1000 cash to one lucky expedition each month – valuable support for deserving expeditions.

To ensure the winning expedition each month is the most preferred by the outdoor community we decided to shortlist three entries, selected by a panel of judges, which were then opened to the public vote.

We believe that the voting method for the Adventure Challenge is proportionate to the size of the competition and strikes a balance between security and ease of voting.

The ongoing support from Berghaus for the Adventure Challenge is dependent on the honesty, fairness and openness of all those involved, particularly the shortlisted entrants. Any dishonesty or cheating will be dealt with appropriately.

We encourage all shortlisted entrants to use their networks to drive votes for their entries, but we have absolutely no control over this activity. In addition, we have no formal connection with UK Climbing in relation to the Adventure Challenge, it is simply an initiative that UK Climbing feel benefits the outdoor community and they support through news articles, none of which are paid for in cash or kind.

We really feel passionate about supporting outdoor adventures and want to continue the Adventure Challenge for as long as possible. The response to it has been fantastic and we hope to see some truly inspirational expeditions that really capture the spirit of adventure that is at the heart of what we do.

Berghaus

After several months of planning, departure day was upon us! We spent the evening before sorting our food rations and equipment into eight equal bags of 20kg. We could feel the nervous tension rising as we discussed our objective and just wanted to get the trip underway. Bags packed, we ate a hearty meal and got our heads down for the night.

The big day! We arrived at Gatwick loaded down with all our gear, checked in and said our farewells to family who had come to see us off. There was no turning back now – it was on! Arriving in Iceland, we had a night’s layover before flying on to Greenland. So we made our way to the hostel.

After the boredom of the hostel kicked in we headed into Reykjavic, to take in the sights. Realising it was a small and somewhat expensive city, we bought some supplies and ate under the towering cathedral, before heading back to our beds for the night. Morning came and we checked in all our bags at great expense and headed for Greenland.

As we made our final descent into Kulusuk air strip, we were more than alarmed to see east Greenland in winter conditions, given that we had come equipped mainly for a summer expedition. Our next leg was by a helicopter to Tasiilaq, so we crammed ourselves in with our gear and the cargo. After touching down we met up with our contact Dr Hanz Christianson, who kindly let us use his kit shed as our base for a few days. His hospitality knows no bounds and we were welcomed into his home like family, for which we were very grateful. He sorted us out with skis, sledges and some of the best home ground coffee in Greenland. Several days were passed repacking our kit and picking up last minute supplies and chartering a boat to take us the final leg to the fiord.

We made our way over the sea ice to our boat charter and began the nerve wracking journey through the maze of sea ice and icebergs. After several dead ends and closing ice passages (along with a brief toilet break on a large piece of stray ice- gripping) we arrived at the mouth of the fiord, to find it choked with ice. We stepped tentatively onto the ice, quickly packed our sledges and began the 60km slog into the cirque. This was made all the more challenging and hilarious as one member of the team announced he had only skied once on a dry slope!

We hauled our way along the frozen ice over three days, travelling at night when the snow and ice was firmer for skiing on. We were then confronted with a river complex in rapidly melting conditions. Graeme took the lead, crossing suspect and degrading snow and ice bridges across the meltwater torrents. Several ‘dips’ later we were on the final short push to the boulder field under the towering granite walls of the Fox Jaw and began to make our final camp.

After sorting our base camp, we began to make plans for our first attempt on the wall. Then bad luck hit camp as Graeme’s health started to deteriorate rapidly. It was decided that John and I should have an attempt and leave a cache of food and equipment at the foot of the wall. We left Graeme at base camp, to be a point of contact and relay information to the outside world via the sat phone. The wall was attempted in a single ground up push for the summit that lasted 39 hours. Unfortunately, the summit was not reached (high point 900m above sea level). We returned to camp wide eyed, exhausted and beyond hungry.

The next evening when we woke after a much needed and well earned rest, we discussed the climb and Graeme’s deteriorating condition. He was unable to keep fluids or food down for several days. A decision was made to get him out, but he stood firm that John and I should stay and get the job done. He was evacuated to the hospital in Tasiilaq where he spent several days having blood tests and being refuelled and rehydrated, leaving us feeling even more isolated than before!

The weather then broke, bringing rain for several days and speeding up the melting process of the snow and ice that covered the landscape. Time was spent sitting it out under a boulder, festering and brooding over the tactics for the next attempt on the wall. The weather improved and we set out again to the wall. Climbing in the same ground up single push style as before proved unsuccessful and we had to retreat due to injury and exhaustion.

After several days in camp, we took the decision to abandon attempts on the wall for safety issues. We spent time thinking of what to do next, as we needed to do something big or at least get out of camp for a few days. We decided to walk up a ridge on the other side of the valley. This idea then somehow turned into walking to the end of the valley and back over two days at a total distance of approximately 32km. This idea, in turn, became walk up the valley, climb a mountain then return over three days, a nice realistic challenge.

We started walking, and about 8km into the walk John asked me how much food I had packed. “Enough for three days,” was the answer, then I foolishly added “…plus a bit extra”. On paper, we had only just enough food for three and a half days so the plan changed again. We would walk up our valley, sleep, climb a mountain, walk down the coast passing two valleys, sleep again, then inland to follow the neighbouring fjord to the one we had skied up around the peninsula, sleep one last time and finally walk back to camp along the edge of the now mostly defrosted fjord. In hindsight, why and how this was a good idea eludes me, but we did make it back to camp when planned.

We had estimated the distance at around 90km, but when you take into account the constant change in terrain, disappearing and reappearing hunting trails and frustrating detours around waterfalls, giant rock walls and moraines from now distant glaciers it would total far more. The walking would consist of one of us walking far ahead (this was John in the morning, me in the evening), then meeting again every two hours or so. How we managed to keep to this regime was bizarre and we would always make it to our breaks on time. We were living off around 2000 calories a day and as much river water as we could stomach at each stop.

Every day would start as a magical saunter through beautiful unique terrain that constantly changed as we passed through it. As the day wore on it would turn into a nightmare of déjà vu, and playing mind tricks on ourselves. This culminated in me waking John up screaming because I thought he was going to lower me into the fjord head first from our last bivvy site. We made it back to camp and ate for what seemed like hours – protein shakes, vitamin pills and curry were all on the menu. We popped our pain killers and went to bed.

While on the walk out we had been offered a bit of R&R in Iceland by John’s parents – this of course seemed like a great idea, but it meant less rest time before we decamped to the boat pick up. Although we hadn’t been back for a whole day it made sense to me to start moving our gear to the pickup – after all, it was only 12km away. That night I moved a big blue barrel and the now fairly useless sledges to the pickup.

It was an emotional night and when I had left him, John was in the foetal position. When I turned up early in the morning from working through the night I found piles of sick leading to where John slept. John woke up, announced he had ‘shit’ himself, went back to sleep for a couple minutes then started having a conversation with me. He was weak from the sudden illness, and said he could walk out but need time to get his body back strength. I agreed and said I’d wake up and start shuttling gear out – all he had to do was wake up and go when he could.

The pickup was arranged for 1200 on the following day, so when I woke up at midday it was a pressing deadline. I packed the first bag, 30kg of gear, and set off again across what I had finished walking six hours earlier. The route was roughly what had taken us four days to cross on skis. In the middle was a moraine field that took over an hour to cross, although it was barely a kilometre wide. I would get to the pickup point, drop the gear and walk back. Once back at camp John was up; he’d been at the Dioralite and was feeling a bit better. I cooked our last meal at camp, probably the most calorific, horrendously thrown together concoction but it was all needed for one last push.

I planned on leaving at midnight and expected John to be leaving with me but he wanted a couple more hours sleep. I made to the end, only a partial victory because John wasn’t here, nor the boat but there was still time. I couldn’t sleep until we were both on a boat heading back to Tasilaq. John turned up looking very ill and tired; he had burst a vein in his eye when vomiting and was still dehydrated. When he saw the boat, he suddenly became full of energy, which was lucky as I had none left. We got on the boat and headed back to civilisation.

We would like to thank Berghaus, Alpkit and most of all our families for all their support and understanding without which we could not have done all that we did.

Plans are being made to return and finish what we started!

Josh Glanvill (with Graeme Glover and John Briggs).

Following the success of the last round of the Adventure Challenge, it is making its much awaited return!

Each month we’ll be giving one adventure £1000 cash and £1000 worth of Berghaus gear,  so if you have a dream idea submit your application at www.berghaus.com/challenge

The adventure challenge re-opens on August 10^th and will run until February 2012.

Winning challenges from last year have included an epic challenge to cross Costa Rica from the Pacific Coast to the Caribbean and an ambitious attempt on a number of first ascents and new routes in the North East Greenland ice cap.

You can find out more about the winners and the story of their expeditions here.

“Urbano wants to know why you always have to come in the wet season,” asked Ronald as we discussed the plans for my expedition three weeks away.  Ronald Bottger was organising the in-country planning and logistics for my attempt to cross Costa Rica from the Pacific Ocean to the Caribbean Coast over the period 19 December 2010 to 3 January 2011.

The concept had been born from a hazy conversation with Ronald over guaro and coke during a previous trip in 2004.  As guaro is particularly lethal sugar cane rum, it seemed like a straight forward idea at the time.  Previous transects had been completed but they had used roads and large trails and eaten up the distance by cycling much of the way.  My trip would be by foot and kayak and would take a straight line from the Pacific, through the rainforest and up over the Talamanca Mountains, before plunging down to the Rio Pacuare.  At this point, I would transfer to a kayak and take the river all the way to the ocean; how hard could it be?

I was serving as an infantry officer until 2007, when I made the decision to leave the Army with a view to concentrating more time on expeditions.  However, as the reality of starting a freelance business came home, the Costa Rica concept was pushed to the side and I only thought of it sporadically.  However, by the beginning of 2010 I realised that I had made such a significant change to my life for a reason and could always find excuses not to do things; the trip was back on.  I emailed Ronald in Turrialba and asked him to start the preparations but the timing could not have been worse.

Over the years, the damage done to my left ankle after a climbing accident in 1998 had deteriorated despite a series of operations.  My consultant had decided the only option remaining was to fuse the offending joint and he would do that in late July.  Spending 12 weeks on crutches whilst largely unable to work had left me broke, despondent and barely able to walk the dog.  The consultant said I should not attempt any strenuous activity before 2011; there was no option, I would cancel the attempt.  As I contemplated my decision, serendipity played its hand and I received an e-mail, explaining I had won the inaugural Berghaus Adventure Challenge competition. Everything had changed.  I would go.

The team would be small.  Tet Stavely and I would be accompanied by Urbano Chavez and Martin Venegas from Costa Rica.  Urbano was a Cabecar Indian friend, who had acted as guide and interpreter for most of my previous trips, and Martin was a farmer who knew many of the Cabecar areas we would pass through.

Preparation pushed ahead in earnest on both sides of the Atlantic but the challenges kept coming.  As we made a series of changes to the proposed route, I found myself in hospital in November for a routine operation. There were complications and I developed a large haematoma which required emergency surgery the next day.  Three weeks before we were due to fly I was at a really low ebb and worried about whether I had the physical robustness to attempt the journey.   Now to add to these problems, Ronald was telling me that the heavy rains had led to many trails and rivers becoming impassable and he was not sure whether it would be possible to succeed.

Standing on the sands of the beach at Dominical, on the Pacific Coast, on the 19^th of December, these set-backs that had dogged my preparations seemed insignificant.  As Tet and I posed for photographs, the sense of excitement for the journey ahead flooded through me and as we began to walk inland, I felt in great shape.  The next three days were a straightforward walk along the road to San Isidro and beyond it to the village of San Gerardo, the gateway to the cloud forest and the Talamanca Mountains.  I had made the decision to use this route to save time and to avoid a more contrived trail through the cultivated Pacific hinterland.

By the afternoon of the 21^st, we had taken the 47 kilometres in our stride and at an altitude of 1500 metres were able to look up at the dominating bulk of Cerro Chirripo, at 3800 metres.  As the highest peak in the country, this was to be the objective for the next day and the key to gaining the valleys that would lead us to the Caribbean.

I knew there was a problem the moment Ronald came back to the refuge from going to collect our permits to enter the national park.  “Justin, they won’t let you through.”  Despite having spoken to the Rangers and having obtained the letter they requested from the local Cabecar Cacique, the park authorities had decided that they would not allow us to cross Cerro Chirripo as a point of access to the Caribbean side of the mountains, as it was a biological reserve.  Frantic casting about for alternative routes drew a blind and the only potential option would take an additional week to 10 days; time we did not have.  However, a chance encounter with Jorge, one of the porters who worked on the peak, delivered an option we had not considered.  There was a route the Cabecar used that followed a steep and difficult ridge called the Fila Palmito Morado.  Jorge would guide us as far as he could in half a day and then we should be able to follow the trail recently cut by a Cabecar party.

We crept out of the village in a car at three in the morning and drove just 300 metres up a farm track, in order to avoid being spotted by anyone in case they decided this route was closed to us as well.  Setting off by torchlight, we began the plodding ascent of the loose and densely forested spur. By now my ankle had begun to flare and every other step sent a shooting pain through my leg but I just kept telling myself that it would all be descent after today; just one day to hang in and get it done.

After 6 hours, Jorge said goodbye and trotted off down the hill pointing the rough direction we should take as he went.  His kindness to this strange band of 4 people was incredibly touching and pivotal in our ultimate success.  Upwards progress was interminable as we spent time hauling ourselves through the thickets of bamboo and vegetation that thrived beneath the canopy, on the constantly slipping mulch that constituted the forest floor.  Fleeting glances down from the ridge allowed us the only visible reference point as we continued to climb in silence.  Steadily the group pulled up the ridge before we at last broke through to where the forest ended and the tall grasses and dwarf shrubs of the paramo began.

At around two o’clock in the afternoon, we stood at the paso de los Indios, the high pass that was the gateway to the Caribbean side of the country.  At 3,300 metres, the anticipated view was obscured by the swirling and humid mist.  After a few hurried photographs, we began the tramp down the North East side of the col towards the cloud and rainforest below.  Thoughts of celebration were dimmed by our empty water bottles and the need to find a source of water and somewhere to camp in the next couple of hours.

Immediately, the rain shadow of the Caribbean side of the country made its mark as we struggled down through sloughs of thick peaty mud, whilst battling through the tangled vegetation that covered the trail in many places.  The relentless stumbling through the cloud forested mire took its toll and it was with great relief when we finally stopped at a clearing at around five.  A small area had been cleared by Cabecar who used the trail and water was found 20 minutes away.  Wearily, the tents and tarp were erected and we gorged on the food cooked by Urbano and Martin.  Huddled in a jacket to counter the relatively cool temperature, I looked out over the Chirripo Valley far below and felt that we had cracked the hardest day.

To read Justin and Tet’s full expedition diary click here.

For more photos of Justin and Tet’s expedition check out the ‘Adventure Challenge’ album on our Facebook page.

Where are we going?

Men’s Attrition II Goretex Pro Shell Jacket: Goretex normally performs exceptionally poorly in the rainforest, as the dirt clogs the membrane very quickly and humidity of up to 80% tends to defeat even the best breathability within garments.  However, this jacket proved exceptionally good.

I normally only wear wet proofs around camp and in the cooler evenings but the performance of the Attrition was so effective; I wore it on a number of occasions whilst walking.  Light, flexible and very soft, it was truly remarkable in every way and was simply superlative in keeping my dry, without wetting out, or boiling me from the inside; the vapour transmission was probably the best I have experienced.

The minimal construction and heat sealing delivered a very robust but remarkably lightweight jacket and it was one of the most important pieces of gear I carried.  From the hot, wet and humid lowland areas through to the cool cloud forest at 3,000 metres, it delivered well over any expectation I could have placed upon it.  A gem and a 5 Star one at that.

Shop Attrition

Expedition 80 Rucksack: I had an old Berghaus Expedition sack in the early 1990’s and it lasted me nearly a decade before I had worn it out and so was pretty excited to try out this latest incarnation and it didn’t disappoint. Light, robust and clean lines, it performed whilst carrying very heavy loads and stuffed to the brim.  Unbelievably comfortable, I have always liked fixed back systems as there is less to go wrong and this sat well.

One slight niggle was being wrongly fitted at a large at a well-known outdoor chain and this meant there was little give should I have worn any layers over and above a T-shirt and jacket.  It must be the mark of its effectiveness that I have since bought the next size up (size 4) so I can use it in Costa Rica this Summer and the Himalayas next year.

Some small comments:  The buckle system is a good one but it can be tricky to release the straps one handed.  Also, the tapes had a tendency to slide when wet, reducing the tension in the fitting around the shoulders.  Otherwise, a great expedition pack; 4 Stars.

Shop Expedition 80

Talus 45 Mountaineering Daysack: I chose this off the website blind and so had no preconceptions about it.  In fact I had wanted the lighter Arete 45 but am very glad that model was out of stock.  This remains one of the most comfortable daysacks I have ever used and has now usurped my old faithful of 4 years from another manufacturer.  Even when fully loaded, I was really surprised at how well the sac moulded to my back and left me hardly noticing I was carrying it; not a comment I use lightly at all.  Again, the simple and clean lines created a low silhouette and minimised snagging when pushing through the bush.

The waterproof fabric was pretty effective, although in the worst downpours there was some ingress, as I would expect.  The material, as the Expedition 80, coped very well with being dragged, pulled and hauled through, and over, some pretty uninviting ground but neither were punctured or torn in any way and none of the heavy stress points show any signs of deterioration or wear.  This has now become my ‘go anywhere’ sac and will also become my alpine daysack to boot.

With both the sacs, my only regret was not being able to get them in black, as vibrant red is easily seen by wildlife.  This was not a problem on the transect but more sombre colours would enable me to get closer to wildlife more easily.

Shop Talus 45

Find out more about the Berghaus Adventure Challenge here.

Berghaus Store

For outdoor clothing from Berghaus including men’s waterproof jackets, women’s rucksacks and more then please visit our online store.
You can find a wide range of gear for climbing, hill walking, mountain biking and other activities.