The Nadelgrat - Durrenhorn, Hoberghorn, Stecknadelhorn and Nadelhorn.

"Here you speak the lingo you book the hut" says I dialling the number of the Bordierhutte gleefully relishing the look of consternation on Steve's face as he drags up rusty school German from the archives.

"OK no problem" replies Steve. "Hello, do you speak English? Yes? OK, two nights for two people please. Thanks, Bye"

Bastard - I could have done that !!

Crunching across the upper basin of the Reid Glacier at 4:30am on snow frozen solid beneath a myriad of stars is quite an experience. The cirque of imposing peaks, with razor sharp ridges between them, surrounded the head of the glacier and was imperceptibly clawing from the shadows of night towards the rising sun. Snow couloirs and rocky buttresses gradually took shape, sweeping down from the peaks ready to discharge the days falling debris 2000ft to the snow field below. The air was crystal clear and the rising sun made a dazzling display on some ominously dark lenticular clouds hanging about in great swathes in the sky.

A cold place it was too. A cutting wind was draining the heat from my body even as we walked at a good pace towards the narrow couloir up which we would gain access to the start of the ridge. When we stopped, we froze. Having left my gloves at the hut some two hours earlier I was apprehensive about continuing and concerned about frostbite and my ability to keep moving quickly on mixed ground. Wrapping finger tape around the head of my axe stopped it from sticking to my skin and tipped the balance - we'd carry on.

Reaching the base of the couloir in two and a half hours from the hut was good. We were on schedule, the previous days rest had clearly been the correct decision especially as the weather looked a great deal better today - all except those damn lenticulars all the while getting darker, fatter, longer. With a three minute stop for liquid and food done with we got our heads down to the steady climb up snow slopes and old avalanche debris to the bergshrund, which was conveniently crossed in the depths of an avalanche runnel. Steep climbing up 40 degree snow was tough work and needed a fair amount of concentration. The concentration deepened as we gained height and the angle increased to 50 degrees.

We reached the Durrenjoch in time to see the surrounding peaks disappear in the beginnings of a huge bank of cloud that had been moving towards us across the Swiss lowlands. The rocky ridge to the Durrenhorn, our first summit, was gently angled and we made reasonable time after a few interesting 'boulder problems'. It was still misty and we could quite easily have been in Scotland plodding up a Munro if it wasn't for the thin air. With altitude the rocks were becoming covered in rime ice so I was calling on all my 'rock in crampons' experience so as to touch as little as possible and keep my hands somewhere approaching cold.

At the rock pinnacle summit there was no view at all. I had thought that the sequence of ridges and summits would look really majestic once we were in amongst them and was anticipating getting some good photographs. I was therefore a little downhearted that we would be climbing all day without the rewarding views.

On the descent to the col we met a Swiss couple, the only people we would see that day. "Do you have any spare gloves!" I asked, immediately pouring out my tale of woe. "Will you send them back to me ?" the chappie asked. "You bet" I said thanking my lucky stars that he spoke English and more importantly trusted me.

With gloves donned I was in a good mood and we fairly romped up the ridge to the rock tower that barred access to the summit of the Hoberghorn. As we reached the base of the tower the cloud sank gradually to give us that indescribable cloud in the valleys 'standing on top of the world' feeling. Some mixed ground at PD took us steeply to the short summit ridge and the most stunning view of the remainder of our route.

A curving snow ridge dropped down to the next col and then rose again to meet a series of rocky teeth forming a razors edge with flanks falling steeply away for 2000ft. The teeth then gave way to a steeper rock section as the ridge curled up to the summit of the Stecknadelhorn, behind all this the Nadelhorn itself loomed in a swirl of cloud.

The rock in this section was excellent. Mainly solid and with some interesting problems, it relied on us finding a system of ledges on the right flank to avoid taking the teeth direct. We were working well as a team, moving quickly together, hooking the rope over rock spikes to provide a little security. Steve, being a little less nimble with his crampons on rock, was slightly slower but this let me concentrate on route finding without pressure from behind. A tricky mantleshelf move got us on the summit block for our third summit of the day... only one more to go.

The next snow ridge was pure sculpture. Twisting, rising, falling. Wind carved in the depths of a storm, graceful and beautiful in the brilliant sunlight. If you've ever been there you'll know what I mean.

A little tired at this point in the day and frightened off by suspect snow conditions, we traversed under the rocky buttresses of the Nadelhorn to meet the easier North ridge and so continued on to our last summit of the day, some eight and a half hours from the hut.

At 4327m (14,196ft) we could trace our route from the village to the hut and then up the couloir and across the remote ridges and summits to where we now were. What a feeling. All that was left was to get down to base camp. Man... I needed a cup of tea.

Trevor August 99