High and Dry in Persia
Last summer we went to Font for a few days bouldering, the only difference from a usual trip was that instead of returning to the usual piss wet British excuse for a summer we strangely drove onwards another 7000km through Italy, Greece and turkey to our destination: Iran. Famous primarily for kindly allowing the SAS to train in their embassy, only vague rumors of big walls and good rock drew us into ancient Persia in search of somewhere different to climb.
Initially
you notice the massive differences that exist between our countries over the
length of a climbing day. Even driving to the crag at the start of the day
assumes epic proportions as the lonely Planet guide points out, “the
probability of an Iranian driver stopping at a red light is directly proportional
to the amount of armed soldiers at rifle range.” Thus you arrive at
the crag surging with adrenaline and in many cases pumped from yanking repeatedly
at the wheel to avoid errant trucks, camels and donkeys.
The end of the climbing day is equally different due to apres climb entertainment being conspicuous by its complete absence. Everything involving fun or vices seems to be banned; Alcohol, drugs, clubs and dancing, gambling and backgammon are illegal alongside seedless watermelons (they promote homosexuality by the way). This made the climbing trip very different to every other one I had been on as we had to socially interact with friends sober in the evenings. These were trying times as some of these friends I had known for years and had never observed in this curious state.
We arrived at our first cliff ‘Kuh-i-Bisotun’ in Iran near the town of Kermansha after two days weaving along the Iraq border and having been on the Hot Rock expedition for six weeks. Following the ancient silk route we saw the cliffs rising 1200m vertically from the desert floor. Over 3km long this massive wall of limestone has only 12 existing routes ranging from the 1150m HVS ‘Dragons shelter ridge’ to the 20 pitch ‘Darvosh’ E5 (5.12c).
In search of info we met up with a few members of the small and mostly isolated Iranian climbing community in the gear shop in Kermanshah town. There are no topos or guide for most of the routes but some information was gleaned and most of the gear in the shop was brought as great novelty souvenirs. As in any Darwinian process an isolated community can develop with interesting extremes. The gear used showed innovative style that can only be termed as fascinating. They had engineered karabiners so heavy it took four burly sumo wrestlers to lift them off the shelf. There were harnesses made from re-claimed car seat belts and bolt hangers made of what can only be described as chewing gum wrappers.
We
set up a base camp in the police headquarters which they insisted upon, as
bandits would apparently kill us if we pitched our tents at the base of the
wall, (ah ahhhh, this would be the legendary Persian hospitality would it).
Dave Lucas and myself had our eyes on an as yet unclimbed line of a dry waterfall,
which cut directly up the face for 600m until we could see no more.
The next morning we squared jaws and set off boldly (i.e. staggered aimlessly through temperatures unsuitable for human survival.) Arriving at the base of the route we remembered Tony Howard’s comment from climbing here on the 1976 Anglo-Swiss Zagros expedition. Whilst he said that the limestone had the friction of vertical hedgehogs we had chosen a water worn wonder world of a line to climb. Undaunted the first two pitches sucked us in with 100m of outstanding face climbing on smooth crimps and heavenly heucos up the well featured vertical wall.
Belay
ledges were thoughtfully placed every rope length in the form of dry plunge
pools, which we shared with some tired looking scorpions. As the sun reared
overhead our spirits soared, (to previously inexperienced lows). it was so
hot the stealth rubber on our shoes was getting bored of melting and we feared
it would soon, simply spontaneously combust. Looking back with 20/20 hindsight
August is not the best time to big wall in Iran with British spring or autumn
providing more favorable climate and less chance of dying. With tongues dryer
than Ghandi's flip-flops and sweating like a rapist in a rubber suit doing
star-jumps in a sauna we continued upwards.
After 7 pitches of E1/E2 three star climbing the waterfall route revealed its teeth in the form of a series of smooth water runnels arrowing up the near vertical face. Virtually featureless and protectionless I quickly established a desire to belay so Dave lead up the 70m pitch of technical bridging to a one footed stance with a crack virtually begging for the warm wet feeling of a well placed peg. There followed two pitches of exposed bridging and lay backing that provided the crux of the route at E4 6a. An ability to discount the need for positive holds would be a definite advantage for the budding second ascentionist.
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The crux dumped us somewhat unceremoniously on the first main ledge system on the face with meringue like encrusted lips from the ever-present tongues of concentration. The waterfall line pure continued up a 300m continuously overhanging headwall that looked elementary if we had felt comfortable leading E7 with alpine sacks (we didn't) or felt like sky hooking for 2 days (we didn't). We had little chance of doing that headwall in that day, or within the foreseeable duration of the known universe to be honest.
Plan
B - A three pitch traverse took us onto the main ridge and a further seven
pitches of awesome HVS climbing on good gear and sharp incuts took us past
an equally awesome belay ledge as night fell around us. Why were we still
climbing you may ask? I have no answer or even theory other than dehydration
induced delirium. In inky darkness Dave’s voice drifted down sounding
hopeful, yet worried. Never a good combination of intonation from a leader.
Soon we realized the danger of such night time activities on minimal runners
and abseiled back to the aforementioned belay ledge. Whilst I sorted the ropes
out and chatted to Dave before the abseil it became clear to me that something
was missing, oh yes, Dave! I had been talking to thin air for five minutes
convinced he was there whilst he had descended long before. Only Dehydration
I hope can explain where the other side of that conversation was coming from.
At last however we were safely ensconced on the belay ledge with the lights of another party some 150m below us. Did I say safely, sorry, I had momentarily forgot about the bandits the police suggested might like to kill us. Whilst on a ledge 700m up an E5 we could perhaps be forgiven for feeling safe. Such dropping of guard seemed to be a misdemeanor however to which the statutory penalty of death is applied in those parts. The not uncommon sound of gunshots drifted romantically up from the valley through the night sky. The less common and slightly disconcerting sound of bullets ricocheting off the rock nearby indicated to the party below that Iranians may harbor an extreme dislike for petzl head torches which they were using for target practice. Unsurprisingly they were soon turned off thereby spoiling the Iranian’s target/fun and saving the odd life of the climbers. Maybe a design improvement cover system for Petzl could be considered for such situations in future.
The
next day dawned with a ferocious blast of heat and light that we barely survived.
Further advance up the face was now all but a grim joke as all food and water
had been consumed due to lack of willpower and rationing. Dehydration was
however now at least a permanent companion with headaches, cramps, and nonsensical
gibberish being talked. (Although the last symptom was hard to distinguish
from normal). We started to descend.
Sometimes you learn lessons, sometimes you don't. 700m off the deck in Iran the following were indelibly burnt on my befuddled brain.
1) Water is pretty useful stuff in 45C heat!
2) 70m ropes whilst good for moving fast achieve more explicit accolades when
coiling and getting stuck every pitch for 700m of abseils.
3) 5mm tat is great for threading bolts for abs but not so confidence inspiring
when wrapped around razor sharp pinnacles.
Not
much at the time could be done about problem one, but two and three came under
the “kill two birds with one stone” theory as we viciously chopped
the new 70m ropes to make thicker tat, my how Dave laughed. The tat still
proved to be inadequate however as on one rope reclamation it was jammed and
wouldn't’t move an inch. Jumping our weight on the rope it immediately
came down, as did the sling neatly cleaved through by a razor edge of rock
and still attached to the rope’s middle. At the time such incidents
are largely ignored to retain some semblance of order and sanity. An event
this close to becoming crag pizza could not at the time be glossed over, even
if we had ten tins of Dulux one coat. I fear we should have been scared but
had sufficiently lost the plot, sub-plot and whole script enough to feel little
but antipathy towards our near demise.
After 7 hours of constant abseiling, blistered and beaten we limped back and collapsed in the Iranian version of Pete’s Eats. Drinking enough Pipi Zam Zam (the Iranian version of Fanta) we took on so many additives that our mouths were the colour of orange highlighter pens as we named the route "Do Iranians dream of Zam Zam waterfalls” E4 6a
Whilst we had been larking about up the waterfall other great new trad routes had been put up on the lower crags. Such as the two pitch “Peer pressure” (E2 5c) by Roger Ward and Paul Cannon and the E3 5c 6 pitch ‘Battle star Galactica’ by Ben George and Jack Ripper. Dave Lucas and myself later added ‘Waking Darius’ at E2 5b up an arete next to the tombs in Nahg-e-rostam. The fact was, that you could do a new route at whatever grade you climb every day for months.
Overall
Iran gave us great memories of way out climbing on solid limestone with tremendous
hospitality (only rarely displayed in bullet form) by local climbers and non-climbers
alike. With vast potential in areas such as Bisotun, Nahg-e-rostam, Yazd and
Maku for new routing it remains to be seen whether Iran will start to attract
more foreign climbers. For us however it was time to leave Iran and drive
through the deserts into Pakistan and explore the rock climbing in India for
the next couple of months along the silk route.
We would like to thank our sponsors HB climbing Equipment, Scarpa, and The North Face and Edilrid ropes for helping immensely with gear. Bullet-proof head torches, Kevlar stone monkey vest, steel hawser tat and 50 gallon water bottles should be developed and taken by subsequent expeditions.
