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One thousand two hundred metres of intense
and eye-watering speed, as the magnificent
terrain roars past for 35 seconds of powerful,
epic, human flight. The jumps are technical
here, requiring a precise flight path to avoid
terrain. The scenery in Norway, as giant and
monstrous as it is, creates majestic visuals in
freefall, the experience somehow amplified by
the sheer enormity of the place and everything
in it. This place is built for viewing at high speed!
Living, breathing, roaring speed! I am an aircraft
with a thousand intricate moving parts, the
most advanced on the planet, and I am exactly
where I want to be!
I had travelled to Italy to jump from the mighty
1,200 m Mt. Brento, and in Norway I flew a
wingsuit past the Trollstigen or 'Trolls Ladder',
the famous winding alpine road. But one monster
continued to elude us, the infamous Troll Wall of
Norway; a colossal formation of spires sporting
a 1,700 m drop from exit to landing. The wall
gets its name from the Norwegian legend that
trolls attended a wedding one night, stayed
too late partying and on their way home were
caught by the sunrise and turned to stone. It
is also one of the birthplaces of modern-day
BASE jumping, made famous by Carl Boenish,
the Father of our sport.
We spent many days in Norway weather
watching in hope of claiming this giant, many
times waking at 1 a.m. only to find the weather
was poor and having to abandon our expedition.
On my final day in Norway, we decided to take
our chances with the weather. We got an 'alpine
start' at 1 a.m. and in the shifting fog and wind
I felt like Frodo on the last push to Mordor. At
one stage, as I clung to a sketchy ice ledge,
my buddy, an experienced mountaineer, asked
me if I had any ice climbing experience as
this type of terrain usually warrants ice axes
and crampons. As I clung bare fingered in my
skate shoes, I replied that I had little climbing
experience of any sort. So instead of offering
his usual technical tips, he raised his eyebrows
and feigned nonchalance with, “Okay then.
Don’t fall off.”
At the top of the troll it was clear that we would
not be jumping that day. The wind howled to
the point where it was impossible even to stand
upright at the precipice, so we had to settle for
crawling to the edge and peering over at our
would-be prize. The word 'exit' that was painted
on the rock back in the '80s by Carl Boenish
himself, could still be seen. It felt like a prize
just to be there, and though it was hard to turn
and start the four-hour hike back down, it was
not without a certain sense of accomplishment;
not just for being where all the craziness that is
BASE started, but for feeling like, in the process
of this journey, I had gained a new level of
understanding into the 'why' of my sport.
20 • DO IT NOW Magazine | January 2013
FROM LEFT TO RIGHT
1. Wingsuiting in Switzerland
2. Teamwork on the north face
of the Eiger
swiTzErland
In stark contrast to my experience in Norway, Switzerland offered
relatively easy hikes and temperate weather. I jumped in an area close
to Interlaken, affectionately known to BASE jumpers as 'the valley'. It
is BASE jumping Disneyland, with the train and cable car infrastructure
in place for the winter ski season effectively halving our hiking times.
Here one can jump up to 10 times a day compared with Norway’s epic,
single jump expeditions.
On previous trips to Switzerland, weather had hindered my attempts
to claim one famous BASE jumping prize; the North Face of the
Eiger, an exit known to BASE jumpers as 'The Mushroom'. This year
I intended to change that. The Mushroom is one of those deliciously
sating 'complete experience' jumps, involving an alpine train ride, an
exposed three-hour scramble, a bit of rope work, and some makeshift
climbing. The Mushroom itself is separated from the main face of the
Eiger by a two-metre gap that's connected by a wire cable bolted
across. With climbing slings looped through our parachute harnesses
and a karabiner attached, we clipped onto the cable and effectively
zip-lined over the 1,000 metre drop below. The Eiger is infamous for
her unpredictable weather and, as if to prove that nothing comes
cheap in this sport, despite favourable weather forecasts, my party
arrived atop of The Mushroom to thick cloud cover, and a no go for
BASE jumping. We waited for hours in hope, but finally had to accept
defeat and started the long and treacherous scramble back down.
The following day, a little stiff and tired but in high spirits from the epic
views and adrenalin-filled hike the day before, we attacked the Eiger
again. Despite an identical weather forecast the sky could not have
looked more different and the scene was welcoming as we arrived
atop our prize. Standing on such a unique rock feature, exposed and
alien, is an empowering experience. And watching it shrink behind you
as you accelerate to 140 km/h of freefall, even more so.
lEssons lEarnT
During this trip I learnt many things; I learnt to appreciate beauty in
the rain, to accept a helping hand when offered, and the satisfying
feeling of conquering something, both together and alone. Of pushing
oneself to the edge of one’s physical and mental capabilities amongst
the most exquisite, wild, and rich elements of our planet. But most of
all, I learnt to appreciate every moment for what it is right now, and not
what I hope it will become.
So although I left this land with certain monsters left unconquered,
these are monsters I will happily return to hunt again and again. For
that is what it’s really all about. •
èRelates articles:
• Magnificence on the Far Side of Fear (Issue 17, p. 48)
• Jumping into Paradise (Issue 20, p. 14)