At the end of the last year Juraj “Ďurifuk” Koreň and Michal Sabovčík started their first part of a unique seven-part project - SEVEN VIRGIN SUMMITS – seven unclimbed summits on seven continents, which they want to climb and fly down on a paraglider. A connection of the elements of earth and air is going to be supplemented by the third one – water, when using a sailboat, kayak or raft… well, but first things first…
Antarctica was the first one and here’s the story...
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Mountain
climbers, similarly to paraglider pilots, discover places, logical
lines, where not everyone can go and if, a long way from the summit
to the base camp lies ahead of them. Glacier cracks, seracs, tricky
avalanche slopes and scree areas and tiredness – that is the worst
and very often the most difficult part of every expedition.
Therefore, we, paraglider pilots are often looked at with envy
enhanced by the feeling of sore knees. Fly down from the summit, and
soar silently and effortlessly back to the base camp, car or freshly
prepared dinner – that’s a dream of many mountain climbers, who
would love to climb with a backpack just 2kg heavier. Pioneers of
this sport like Igor Pap, Ueli Steck or Jarýk Stejskal and few
others inspired us to make this combination possible. Combination of
flying and climbing required much experience in both sports and
therefore, I as a paraglider pilot and climber – beginner Juraj
Koreň, approached a paraglider pilot – beginner and experienced
mountain climber Michal Sabovčík: “Teach me to climb and I will
teach you to fly…”
And
during two seasons of joint climb&fly training in Tatras and
Alps, an idea was born and got ripe in our heads – to make the
project Seven Virgin Summits come true.
As
the first one we got the chance to get to Antarctica, where we had
our base camp in the form of 17-m long sailboat Altego 2, under the
command of Jiří Denk. We sailed out from Ushuaia in the late
December through the Beagle Channel, headed to the Cape Horn and
further through the Drake Passage towards the Antarctic Peninsula. It
was the most difficult and the most complicated access to a face I
and even Mišo, have ever experienced. I personally spent six days in
the seasickness delirium lying in the lower deck.
At
the end of the sail, we finally see thousand meter high faces growing
directly from the icy cold water. Clean, high and proud, beautifully
untouched. Antarctic.
During
a short stay at the Chilean Gonzales Videla Base on the continental
Antartica, we meet the first penguin rookery, amazing and cute
animals, which, however, smell so much of fish. Fish leftovers
cover the whole piece of Antarctic land, where I step as the first
one during anchoring the boat. Mission complete, but I return to the
boat dirty from the penguin sh*t.
Yes,
it’s possible to fly here!
The
weather is fantastic and so, as soon as possible, we climb the
nearest summit, approx. 600 m high. Using our skis and crampons we
reach the summit in less than three hours. The wind is perfect on the
summit, and down there, deep under our feet, light fog is spreading
romantically above the sea. We see fantastic sceneries of sea bays
surrounded by virgin mountains with steep faces, looking at them, our
hearts beat with desire. And we fly straight into this beauty and
enjoy our first flight in Antarctica.
Indeed, it’s a very emotional experience, enhanced by the wild terrain passing under our feet. Yes, it’s possible; we’re flying, flying in Antarctica! The last doubts vanished and we can stars looking for our virgin.
Sailing to the next anchoring place in the Port Lockroy on the Wiencke Island took as the whole day and we were enthusiastically watching and looking for possible ascend lines, take offs and landing spots on the glaciers at the foot of two approx. 1,000 m high mountain ridges of the Wall Range stretching along the whole island. In the morning, grabbing our skis, we set out to reach the base of the face with our big backpacks with paragliders, climbing equipment, tent, sleeping bags, food and cameras, each weighing maybe 15 kilograms. We reach the foot of the face around the noon, build the tent and take off the skis. We start to climb, but are forced to return after two hours. The sun has turned the snow into an unusable mash, avalanches are falling down, one after another. It won’t work like this.
Indeed, it’s a very emotional experience, enhanced by the wild terrain passing under our feet. Yes, it’s possible; we’re flying, flying in Antarctica! The last doubts vanished and we can stars looking for our virgin.
Sailing to the next anchoring place in the Port Lockroy on the Wiencke Island took as the whole day and we were enthusiastically watching and looking for possible ascend lines, take offs and landing spots on the glaciers at the foot of two approx. 1,000 m high mountain ridges of the Wall Range stretching along the whole island. In the morning, grabbing our skis, we set out to reach the base of the face with our big backpacks with paragliders, climbing equipment, tent, sleeping bags, food and cameras, each weighing maybe 15 kilograms. We reach the foot of the face around the noon, build the tent and take off the skis. We start to climb, but are forced to return after two hours. The sun has turned the snow into an unusable mash, avalanches are falling down, one after another. It won’t work like this.
Taking
off into the Antarctic sky
We’re
marching towards another mountain in the next ridge, another 10 km,
building the camp again, we manage to get few hours of sleep. January
in Antarctica is awesome, there’s no difference between the days
and the nights, so it’s not strange at all that we set out at 2 am.
No headlights are needed, daylight 24/7.
We climb approx. 850 m high mountain, and despite the fact that there were low clouds under the mountain’s summit the whole time, around noon we’re lucky enough and take off from the summit into the Antarctic sky. The fly down takes few minutes and I can still feel the happiness.
Did we
manage it? The joyous feelings are blunted by certain bitterness, as
during the ascent into the saddle we found fix ropes and pitons, so
there was the possibility that our summit has been reached by someone
else before us. Moreover, 850 m was enough for us. We wanted a four
digit number.
We climb approx. 850 m high mountain, and despite the fact that there were low clouds under the mountain’s summit the whole time, around noon we’re lucky enough and take off from the summit into the Antarctic sky. The fly down takes few minutes and I can still feel the happiness.
Did we
manage it? The joyous feelings are blunted by certain bitterness, as
during the ascent into the saddle we found fix ropes and pitons, so
there was the possibility that our summit has been reached by someone
else before us. Moreover, 850 m was enough for us. We wanted a four
digit number.
We
returned to the boat, and anchored in the real Antarctic storm,
experiencing the katabatic wind, with 57 knot speed, spent a dramatic
night after which we left the Wiencke Island. We’re sailing through
the bays of the Antarctic Peninsula and discover a beautiful mountain
with a superb climbing line, moreover on the continental Antarctica,
around 1,000 m high.
Ideal, beautiful, amazing. We’re trying to
find it in our maps, its data, name, and altitude,
everything that can be found out. We can’t find much though, in our
maps it’s the highest peak of the Wild Spur ridge on the
continental part of the Antarctic Peninsula. We even don’t know its
altitude, we just see its beautiful symmetric shape and Mišo is
admiring its clear, logical and challenging climbing line. I’m
busy with studying the flight conditions during the take off, flight,
wind and lading. Using
binoculars, the captain is looking for the landing possibilities –
3 km on the right side of the mountain, where the glacier face meets
the sea, seems to be a good place.
Ideal, beautiful, amazing. We’re trying to
find it in our maps, its data, name, and altitude,
everything that can be found out. We can’t find much though, in our
maps it’s the highest peak of the Wild Spur ridge on the
continental part of the Antarctic Peninsula. We even don’t know its
altitude, we just see its beautiful symmetric shape and Mišo is
admiring its clear, logical and challenging climbing line. I’m
busy with studying the flight conditions during the take off, flight,
wind and lading. Using
binoculars, the captain is looking for the landing possibilities –
3 km on the right side of the mountain, where the glacier face meets
the sea, seems to be a good place. 
Trial
no. 2
Learnt
by the previous action, we’re getting up at 2 am, with captain
starting the motorboat and setting out through the bay, surprised by
its real width. We were sailing maybe an hour. Approaching the face
over the glacier takes another hour. During climbing the sun rises
and creates low cumulus clouds on the blue Antarctic sky. The heart
of each pilot rejoices seeing such clouds, but not mine! The wind
chases the clouds the other way! We probably won’t manage to take
off, but, anyway we climb. Our line is a direct icy couloir, which is
in some places as steep as a vertical face ending with a snowy
overhang.
The
rocky parts are completely weathered, broken, with no possibility of
quality belaying in the rock. We manage to climb the face and after a
short ridge passage we stand on the summit, the GPS says 1,057 m
AMSL, we climbed for 7 hours. Happiness, smiles. Only one thing is
left – to take off.
My advice is to descend 100 m and try to take off into the wind, then turn towards the saddle a fly into the lee. That will be a tough nut to crack, but our paragliders are made for such extreme situations. Just to be sure, I communicate via the radio with our floating base camp and ask for information on the wind direction. With the reply “the wind direction is the same as the direction of the boat” we just smiled because, we could barely see the boat from such distance. So we must rely just on ourselves. While Mišo is taking off, I’m holding my breath, I’m worried about him flying in the lee, will he manage it? Because if something happens, no one will save us here. This is not like in Tatras, where you can land anywhere and in few hours you are back in the civilisation. Here in Antarctica, there’s only one possible place for safe landing. There’s no one to find you, no way to return on your own, and if you happen to fly a hundred meters farther, into the sea, you’re dead in few minutes.
Mišo
disappears behind the edge in the lee. I’m taking off few minutes
later, bit scared if he managed it as I can’t connect with him
through the radio. After passing the edge, I see the paraglider
spread out on the snow and Mišo lying without a move. Damn it! I
hope that the paraglider haven’t collapsed and he hasn’t fallen,
we don’t have any reserves, or back protectors. I’m shouting into
the radio and he replies that he’s only enjoying the descend orgasm
and that he’s seen an avalanche falling in the adjacent couloir.
Antarctic
Virgin conquered
I’m
joyfully flying along the face we’ve just climbed, only few meters
far, making wingovers and turns. What an amazing feeling. We managed
that! The Antarctic virgin is conquered and I’m flying down along
those fantastic, wildly shapes rock pillars, massive ice seracs, on
the places where no man has ever climbed or flown before. The feeling
of a pioneer, discoverer enhanced by the adrenaline, and endorphins
during climbing and flight.
Landing
is followed by celebrating, smiles, handshakes and enthusiastic
planning of further challenges in our project Seven Virgin Summits.
In half an hour it starts to rain and snow, we managed it just in
time. It seems that those who are prepared and brave are lucky.
We
go to the beach, calling the sailboat to pick us up. The captain
welcomes us with words: “Guys,
I’ve sailed the world, people say I’m insane, but I don’t dare
to think what you are …” From
the safety of the port at “the end of the world” – Ushuaia
(Vino tinto, Argentinian Chorizo) we were separated by the Drake
Passage, whose huge waves, strong wind and sea currents has sunk
tenths of ships. Therefore we’re waiting for an optimistic forecast
hidden behind the Melchior Island. We’re killing the time by doing
short trips to see the penguins and seals, or trying to get out of
the boat on the floating ice floes and we pay a visit to the
Argentinian base with very kind and hospitable crew, until the
captain commands “Sailing out”. We’re unfastening the ropes and
raising the anchor. Orcas are surfacing in the bay to say goodbye…
550
nautical mile-long sail across the Drake lies ahead of us, and the
Drake didn’t give it to us for free. In the wind of 30 to 50 knots,
in the waves around the number 7 of the Beaufort scale, we’re
pushing forward at the speed around 10 knots towards the Cape Horn
and then to the Beagle Channel. Constant bank and swinging makes
sleeping impossible.
This delirium took 6 days. I don’t remember much of that, most of
the time I was lying and throwing up. I still don’t get how Mišo
managed to cook, drink wine and prepare top-level meals using
ready-to-cook food (after the best-before date) for the whole crew in
such conditions.
New
materials open new possibilities
Progress
in material design opens new possibilities in all sports. New,
ultra-light textiles enable the creation of paragliding gear lighter
than 2 kilograms. It’s absolutely fantastic and gives us the
possibility to try ultimate adventures, where the volume and weight
of the gear are the crucial factor for success. Such adventures
include solo bivouac
adventures in Himalayas, hike and fly contests like X-Pyr or climb
and fly challenges, like ours.
Thanks
to ultralight materials and excellent designer work and cooperation
with top paraglider pilots, the whole gear and equipment can be
packed into a normal climbing backpack along with ropes, crampons,
belay devices and ice axes. Of course, climbing with a bigger and
heavier backpack is bit more difficult, but the vision of a fast and
safe descent is worth it. In an emergency you can use the paraglider
for bivouac,
so we don’t have to carry sleeping bags, weighing approximately the
same.
A
huge thank you goes to all the sponsors, families, supporters and
all, who supported us and believed that we can do that.
“Deep
in the heart of each and every climber there’s an inseparable
companion of all fights – passion. It has various names –
emotion, pleasure of conquering… it’s a funny feeling, which is
worth suffering for and giving up a lot. Those, who have ever felt
it, know what I’m talking about.”
Wiesław Stanisławski
