Venstrelinja (WI6), Hydnefossen

Venstrelinja on Hydnefossen was not remotely on my radar as a climbing objective until a few hours after climbing the classic, easier neighbouring line, Midtlinja. Midtlinja had felt a full test of my abilities on the first failed attempt, but better route-finding on the second visit had made it feel a comparatively steady outing and benchmark for the grade. I definitely wasn't finished with the Hydnefossen experience, which meant I needed a new challenge to start obsessing about, and on Hydnefossen this generally means a harder challenge. 

The first test was trying to find someone willing to attempt Venstrelinja with me. Moving up to a higher grade might have made partner recruitment a harder project, but luckily Fredrik said yes with little evidence of hesitation. 

The forecast for the coming weekend wasn't ideal, but I was off to Scotland the following weekend, and so my next opportunity wouldn't otherwise be until mid-March. There seemed therefore a possibility of missing the opportunity this season were the spring thaws to arrive abruptly in the meantime. Temperatures for the coming weekend were forecast to be mildly freezing (✔️), and I knew the line was in good condition (✔️), but heavy rain had fallen in the Hemsedal valley the previous weekend, which inevitably meant deep fresh snow above the freezing line (❌). A good amount of snow had also fallen in the preceding days, with moderate snow expected on the day of the climb, however this wasn't a major concern for us, provided the visibility was good enough for route finding.

We brought snowshoes, but the firm snow and moderate depth by the roadside tricked us into leaving them in the car, which proved to be a major misjudgement. 

The approach progressed easily enough to begin with, and a gradual build-up of powder bore no major concerns due to a hard underlayer from existing tracks. Things started to go pear-shaped upon exiting the forest onto the broad showfield beneath the waterfall. Immediately we were faced with deeper snow and the steeper gradient, which further raised the snowline in front of us. We walked a short way up and across the snowfield, but the depth of powder proved too disconcerting on what were roughly 40 degree slopes and on very open ground. There was also a strong likelihood that all this powder was resting on a deeper layer of hard snow. All things considered, we opted to turn around and retrace our steps to the treeline. 

Staying in the forest looked the sensible option, although the trees were fairly sparse at this altitude. The issue with staying in the trees was that the ground was steeper, resulting in epic amounts of snow to swim through. Often it was waste deep, needing newly invented techniques in order to clear the way. A shovel wouldn't have gone amiss, but in the absence of one I used my arms and knees to best effect, whilst Fredrik mainly relied on bad language. The rare presence of a tree allowed me to haul myself a short distance past it each time. Even in the trees we heard an ominous boom from deep within the snow pack to indicate a weak layer somewhere beneath us, but the mesh of the thin forest cover provided enough reassurance against a proper slide. Only upon reaching the buttress immediately left of the Hydnefossen did we briefly needed to cross open snow slopes in order to reach the start of Venstrelinja, although this felt more reassuring due to us now being at the very top of the slope, rather than in the middle of it.

Waist deep snow on the approach to Hydnefossen

I was half-expecting Fredrik to suggest that we go down, but he was still motivated enough to continue to my surprise, as was I. The approach had taken an epic three hours, but as far as I was concerned that chapter was finished and the ice standing over us looked fat and enticing. It was the start of March after all and there was still plenty of sunlight hours remaining. 

Beneath Venstrelinja on Hydnefossen

I led the first pitch, which gave false optimism of an easy ride from the ground. Bulging ice through big features was the short summary, which was time consuming due to the insecure climbing style and amount of resting snow. I felt slow and self-conscious about the time it was taking, but least I was well-versed on this sort of terrain after the poor choice of line on my first attempt at Midtlinja with Murilo in January. If anything, that was harder. I resisted the temptation to make a premature belay, but in doing so left myself partly in the firing line for Fredrik's second pitch. 

Venstrelinja (left), Hydnefossen

The start of the second pitch formed the crux of the route, up a short chimney formed my two neighbouring broad pillars, before traversing out onto the left hand one in order to breach a band of overhanging ice. I was more than glad to play the supporting role at this point due to this was my first WI6 experience, although in retrospect, with lack of confidence and other psychological factors removed, it was probably within my physical capabilities to have led the pitch.

Second pitch of Venstrelinja on Hydnefossen

Thankfully the ground on the next pitch looked to be back to the more typical WI5 style of climbing that I felt comfortable on. I moved out right and into a vague groove, climbed this, then within striking distance of WI4 terrain disaster struck. I kicked into the ice with my right crampon and heard a sharp, clattering metallic sound. I looked down to see the crampon hanging from the binding around my ankle and at once knew (from from previous experience) that the front bale snapped. 

Broken front bail midway up the third pitch

Quiet resignation filled my mind and it was difficult to be too angry with the situation, given my actions had not contributed to the bad luck. I made a hanging belay at the top of the steep section so that Fredrik could climb up to me. We experimented with the possibility of sharing a crampon, but my size 48 feet meant this wasn't possible due to the central bar on Fredrik's crampons being too short. 

Fredrik following my short third pitch

Fredrik nevertheless led on for maybe 40m more, and I somehow managed to hop cleanly up the pitch with my weight primarily on locked arms. Progress, but now maybe we were a little more accepting of the predicament and more wary of the sand slipping through the egg timer in terms of lack of remaining daylight. Time to bale we concluded. It was a respectable bale, although still a bale on a balance sheet, but surely a route to come back for. With all the hard climbing done it wad a bit of a choker, but I had proved to myself that I was fully capable of climbing the route at least, which was some sort of positive outcome. These sort of testing routes that require a ground-up approach are also what I enjoy most with climbing, which makes baling part of the fun at times.

Fredrik leading the fourth pitch

We rapped down in two pitches in the dark, packed up, and slipped back down the snow through the forest to the car. 

To be continued.