Page 24 - SA Mountain Issue 62

The rst ascent of the
GENDARME WEST RIDGE on the SENTINEL
by JON SARGOOD
Jon Sargood leading the second pitch. Photo GAVIN RAUBENHEIMER
previously unclimbed route on the Sentinel in the Drakensberg. After aiding a tricky move, I found myself perched on a clean slab of basalt scratching around for a peg placement. On the face of it, the pitch was a breeze, the angle of the slab not more than 60 degrees, and the rock, although by and large featureless, was grippy and clean. So why was I motionless, staring wide-eyed at the exit of this pitch, which took the form of a three-metre, vertical corner 20 metres away? As I pondered the task, I could not help but think how typical this pitch was of the ’Berg. The climbing looked and proved to be a doddle, but the 300 metres of vertical space to my left and the 20-metre unprotected lead to the open book both caught my attention and halted my progress. Gavin’s voice snapped me back to reality with a polite ‘What on earth are you doing, admiring the view?’
22 SAMOUNTAIN.CO.ZA
SEPTEMBER–NOVEMBER 2017
So, there I was on my 52nd birthday, breaking new ground – on the sharp end – leading the second pitch of a
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‘Just getting my head around it,’ I blurted out, then walked the proverbial plank. One foot at a time, every nerve in my body tingling, glorious sunshine, and even more glorious exposure. After a fruitless attempt to get some gear in at the 10-metre mark, I bit the bullet and moved on, and soon found myself at the base of the corner swiping at a vegetated crack with my piton hammer. As I sat at the top of the corner a few minutes later belaying my companion, I had the luxurious thought that I truly would not trade this moment to be anywhere else on Earth. I guess that’s why I keep going back to these splendid mountains.
I am, however, getting ahead of myself. Allow me to rewind. Rescue team colleague, mountain guide and generally good bloke, Gavin Raubenheimer, had graciously invited me to accompany him on the rst ascent of a line he had been eyeing on the Gendarme of the Sentinel in the northern Drakensberg. An offer no red-blooded Drakensberg rock monkey could refuse. As we downed a service station breakfast shortly after 5 am, he wished me happy returns and seemed impressed that the ‘Minister of Home Affairs’ had given me the day off on my birthday. Although I appeared outwardly brash, on the inside I knew that there would be penance to pay for enjoying myself in the absence of spouse and sproglets.
‘How’s progress on your guide book coming on?’ I enquired. Gavin had been working on a route guide for the Drakensberg for some time. He informed me that he was hoping to bag today’s route for inclusion in the book before it went to press.
A PERFECT DAY IN THE ’BERG
The rst ascent of