c u on top - satyabrata dam

Just showing off before I started Every day I ask myself: when was the last time I did something for the first time. Even though the answer is obvious (which is everyday), this is true on most days at a subliminal level, but on a physical level, when I asked myself the question, the answer was: almost to this date, last month. And what I did can only be a summary of my life’s motto ‘go with the flow’ since what I did could only happen if you let yourself go with the flow – snowboarding. It might come as a surprise to many that even after spending most of my life in, around and within snow, I had never done snowboarding in my life, not even strapped on to one ever. During my Swiss trip last month I learnt that a dear friend is also a champion pro-level snowboarder and hence ensued the adventure and I loved every moment of this sport even though I fell countless times; since only by falling do we learn to get up.

I looked up at the white summit, across and over a convex wall of rock-hard ice... it looked tantalisingly near yet I knew I would never reach it, at least not today. I had reached the end of my endurance, expertise and wits. I had nothing more to counter the mountain’s defences. If I wished to live then today I must quit. For the moment it was a summit too far.

This is perhaps my first post that is essentially aimed at seasoned and experienced climbers. If you are not then you may like to skip this post. I will be using techniques and terminologies that a non-initiate may find hard to grasp or visualize. But read on nevertheless, since in this post I am going to give a brief beta on almost everything that you need to know to experience the toughest form of climbing possible. In the world of natural climbing grounds we can divide it into three prime categories: rock climb, ice climb and mixed climb. I specialize in the latter two, though my best trad rock lead has been a modest 5.12 b. It’s on ice and then on mixed ground that I find myself most comfortable and intense. While rock and ice climbing is easy to grasp and understand, it is the mixed climb (MC) that is often misunderstood and hard to master. But before you begin mixed climbing one must be a seasoned ice climber and a modest rock climber. So let’s get our racks and boots and ice too...

I am always asked what has been my best climb, the most dangerous, most technical, highest, finest, toughest, etc, etc and it often leaves me wondering for words. At times I end up with the cliché, ‘it’s yet to come’. But today let me share with you the ‘Climb of my Life’. Ceillac would not mean much or nothing at all to most ice climbers outside of France & Italy. I take you to a time when Ceillac was known even less, only to handful of climbers keen to find unclimbed lines and risk everything into the unknown. A sleepy and dreamy French village spitting distance from the Italian border, Ceillac was not discovered before the late-nineties and has only recently been included in the list of French Ski and ice climbing locations. My long standing buddy and fellow alpinist, the outrageously crazy climber Ludo and I had put up few routes on Aiguille du Dru in and around the famous Bonatti Pillar and were hungry for more when he drops Ceillac. I hadn’t heard the name before. We dump our...

If you care to notice then this is my fiftieth post. In the past 49, I have shared with you stories of my travels, climbs, crazy thoughts, friends, impossible dreams and one lame excuse of limericks. The golden jubilee post demanded something special, something unique something as fundamental to me as the air I breathe. And I decided to pay tribute to that one person who single handedly steered and shaped the course of my life from a stage where I did not even know if I had one. He is my uncle Fred and to him I owe all that I am today.  He arrived exactly a year after my father had departed. The only other person, to whom I owe more, is my mother. Here’s to you Uncle Fred, wherever you may be.  I was mid way to my thirteenth summer on the planet and a truly spirited truant that you can imagine. I spent more time kneeling outside my classroom than inside and hence learnt more. By this time, everyone who knew me, including my mother, had reaffirmed their belief that I was not on...