gabe's stuttgart log

Kinabulu Part VI: Sunrise and Descent

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Sun, 17 Mar 2013 02:32:00 +0000

The summit became more and more crowded as the long chain of headlamps arrived, took photos, and sat down to await the rising sun. Off the north edge of the peak, one looks into a brisk wind, and straight down in to Low’s Gully. The Gully, an enormous funnel shaped groove cut deeply into the center of the Kinablu massif, is nearly as impressive as the mountain alone, and far more intimidating. Less than twenty years ago a team of 9 British special forces attempting a first decent became trapped, and after three weeks in the gully, were finally rescued, starving and barely alive. The event is chronicled in a couple books, one of which I recently read (S.O.S - true story by Robert Neill). More pictures and background on the gully can be found on this website. I was hoping to be able to explore the gully rim and bag a few of the surrounding peaks, when the true role of the guides became known. The strict regulations on the mountain forbid people for straying more than about 50m from the main trail, and a permit is needed to attempt any of the other summits. From the various vantage points we could never see to the gully bottom. Nonetheless, the impressive features, swirling mists, cold air rising from below, and thoughts of the numerous failed attempts on the gully left an ominous feeling as I stared in to the chasm.

A look in to Low's Gully from Low's peak

Low's gully

Sunrise near the equator at 4000+ m

Sunrise spectators

Some of the surrounding peaks, with Kota in background

As the sun rose, the various peaks began to light up around us, and the sea of ever brightening clouds could be seen spreading far away to the south. We turned our thoughts to the via ferrata and enjoyed the views of S. Peak as we headed back down to the 7am meet point. There were 6 of us signed up for the “Low’s Peak Circuit”, the tougher of the two Torq walks, and though we were last there, our new Torq guide, sensing that we were better suited for this challenge than the other groups, hurried us in to our harnesses and we lept off down the cliff face. Staring at a 400m drop brings a little butterflies, and stepping off it is not for the faint of heart. The views from the wall were spectacular and the climb was exhilarating to say the least. As we were both still wearing our full summit gear, including my biking gloves, I did not feel that I had the dexterity to pull my camera out on the most interesting sections, but I was able to get by on some ledges.

Our knowledge guide was a welcome change from our nanny-guide, and happened to be one of the locals who had helped set up the route. We crossed worlds highest suspension bridge (question mark), and a couple cable sections before finally landing in a semi-forested slope. We stopped for some snacks, having apparently tied a record for fastest decent. My arms and hands were definitely feeling it from gripping the cable. Though we had 3 layers of safeties, I never felt quite comfortable taking the weight on my harness.

world's highest suspension bridge

Walk the Torq

As we finished off the bottom slope we passed the group doing the ‘Walk the Torq’ route, and sauntered back in to the hut. Though just before getting to the hut, our guide, who was quite well spoken and very professional, paused, turned to us and asked us nicely and very seriously if he could ask us a question. "Why not?", we said, and though it seemed clear he didn't want to ask within earshot of the cabin, I certainly wasn’t expecting him to ask us for the definition of ‘douchebag’. I wondered how long he'd had this burning question, and also how it comes that this type of American culture manages to permeate the world. I dont think he was very satisifed with our answer.
At any rate, we had made it back safely to the hut, before 930am, and were rewarded for our exhilierating efforts with some certificate schwag. Little did we know though, the adventure was far from over. The challenge and adventure of the summit ascent and descent had our minds literally in the clouds, and our false sense of security of arriving back at the hut was only distracting us from the true danger of the mountain, the Giant Blueworm of Kinabulu.

Kinabulu - Part V - Summit Attempt

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Sun, 17 Mar 2013 01:47:00 +0000

In the hut at 2am, Scott’s alarm goes off. I was already up for the past half hour, as I was still on pacific coast time having arrived from SanFransisco roughly 24hrs earlier. I was the first in to the messhall and quickly made myself a Sabah tea with plenty of sugar and powdered cream, followed by some toast with PB&J. I managed a trip to the toilets before Scott and I geared up to get on the trail.

Ready for the Up and Up

Already I could see some head-lanterns coming up from Laban Rota and did not want to get in a queue (we had heard there was a large queue the night before). Looking out the window also revealed a clear night with no signs of new rain. Even the yellow lights of KK shone brightly eleven thousand feet below. Our guide was waiting for us on the bench as we put on our hiking shoes and headed out the door. As we approached the Guting hut a 100m above ours, it unloaded about 20 people and we were stuck behind a slowly stepping single file queue, which quickly filled up behind us as well.

At 2:45am, the air was crisp, but not at all cold. It wasn’t long before we both shed some layers. In the dim light of the headlamps, a girl trekking one person ahead of me fell backwards on the steps and it took two of us to stop her from going all the way down. We righted her up and kept going. 200 steps later she wiped out on a slippery boulder and recovered herself. That was enough for me and Scott and I made a move to the side of the slow group and within about 10 mins we had passed everyone in front of us with the exception of a lone headlamp far off in the distance.

We both felt incredibly good, especially compared with our light headedness the previous afternoon, and tromped on and upwards, following the 1500m of rope laid on the granite from the gate to the summit. We registered ourselves at the Sayat Sayat gate at 3800m – and the guide confirmed there was only 1 other person ahead of us.

At this point, well above the tree line and done with the steep climb, we now had a long, sloping granite slab to cross, and 300m of gentle climbing left. Looking down and behind us, we could see a dotted line of headlamps winding up the granite face.

Clouds beneath us had started to rise slightly, but the pouring of light from KK was still visible. I had the opportunity to attempt some longer exposures with my point-and-shoot camera. We realized at this point that with a predicted 530am sunrise, we were at least a half hour ahead of schedule. As we paced ourselves, a few groups below us that had apparently also passed the mass of slow people began to catch up. Having been passed the previous day on the hike to the huts by that boisterously annoying Dutchwoman (the one who found it hard to contain her pleasure in passing two hiking men) and her lackey boyfriend, we decided to press on lest they be the ones who were bearing down on us.

As we crested the top plateau, Scott and I could now hear voiecs behind us and could both swear we heard guttural dutch rantings – and guessing it was this woman commanding her boyfriend to quicken his pace so she could catch the two points of light in front of her, we were spurred yet again by our desire not to give her that pleasure, and doubled our efforts. At this point I was feeling great, and with the outline of Low’s peak ahead of me, stretched my legs out at full pace and sauntered off. The air was a little thin on the final climb, but I made it easily to the top and found Ollie, the lone light point from earlier, stretched out in his sleeping bag at the summit. I woke him up and cleared him off the summit proper, so Scott and I could get our obligatory summit shots. It was 450am – thus taking us 2hrs 5mins from the hut to the top.

Ollie wakes up on the summit.

Conquerors of the highest point in SE asia

Unfortunately it was also below zero (there was ice!) and without any sign of the sun coming up. Watching the sunrise from the peak was not to be missed, so we staked a site out of the wind and sat down to wait it out. As we were doing so, sure enough the next two people to summit were the curtly couple from the Netherlands. We had just made it.

Part IV – Evening at Eleven Thousand

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Sun, 17 Mar 2013 01:28:00 +0000

Our hut apparently had 22 people staying there that night, though we were the first to arrive. Scott and I rested our legs in the mess hall room, drinking Sabah tea and playing Towers (Jenga). After a long, delicate game or two, the room had started to fill up with other hikers, and their trodding on the floor added another dynamic element to our game. We soon had quite an audience as our tower grew taller and every wobble was met with gasps. Somehow we defied all odds and made it about 6 turns more than either of us thought we could before the tower finally collapsed and scattered its pieces over the table (Scott did you do your pushups yet?).

As we were part of the mountain Torq group, it meant we had all signed up for one of their adventure packages not available to the average hiker, and were told we would have a training demonstration at around 3:30pm. A Torq, we learned, was a metal chain worn by native warriors around their neck. A few years back a Japanese rockclimber was granted permission to develop a via ferrata (iron route) along the granite face of Kinabalu to be used for adventure climbing. A team of climbers using a generator and electric drill put in a supported climbing route stretching along a vertical granite face, roughly from the huts at about 3400m up to the summit plateau, just below South peak, at about 3800m. A less challenging route joins the main route from the side, the whole thing connected by metal wires that clients can clip in to, forming a ‘Torq’ around the mountain. After summiting Low’s peak, one would return via the normal trail until the start of the via ferrata, and then decend down the face of the cliff. That said, we didn’t really know what it was at this point in time, neither of us having heard of a Torq or a via ferrata. Finally around 430p, after waiting for a group of Brunei-based British army women and wives to arrive, we received our training. Our gear was a harness with two safety ‘biners, and a helmet. We were to be roped together, binered in to the wire cable, and then descend to each piton, spaced about 5m apart, unclipping one ‘biner at a time and transferring to the next section. We would get a refresher on the mountain.

Training Day

After a hearty buffet dinner down at Laban Rata hut in their giant messhall, we were rewarded with the clouds dropping well below the huts, but still covering the valley so as to give us a feeling of floating above a sea of clouds. This was a great sign in terms of weather. As it was about 6pm, the sun was on its way through the clouds and we had the start of what was to be the most spectacular 2 hour sunset I’ve ever seen.

Sunset over the ocean from 11000 ft. Laban Rata in foreground.

It was sad when that sunset ended close to 8pm – but it was bedtime anyway, as a 2am wake-up call was in store. We crawled in to the hut-provided red sleeping bags on the bunkbeds and fell asleep with thoughts of the granite faces, dragons, massive worms, and hopes of good weather.

Kinabalu - Surviving the blue beast - Part III: Biodiversity

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Sat, 03 Mar 2012 09:40:00 +0000

Borneo is one of the most uniquely biodiverse places on the planet, and Kinabulu being the highest in elevation on the island, and anywhere within a hundreds of miles, means that it is home to unique flora and fauna not found anywhere in the world. It has 10 species of carnivorous pitcher plants, 3 of which are found only on the mountain, and over 100 orchid species. It is also home to the giant stinky rafflesia flower that only blooms for 7 days of its 15 month life, as well as a giant man-eating translucent-blue worm, apparently descendant from the long deceased dragon. We were always keenly vigilant for the villainous serpent.

Dont feed the animals

Mosstachioed Canoodian

Rhododenron Rugosum

Evil Kinabalu Toad

At this elevation, we were entering the band where unique pitcher plants could be spotted. As we hiked onwards the sun had started to come through and we kept our eyes open for pitcher plants, orchids, and wildlife. We had met people coming down who did not see a pitcher plant, so we asked our guide, who had been uselessly strolling behind us, to shows us them, which he somewhat surprisingly did. The plants were quite fascinating, and though some apparently have been known to consume mice and smell like decaying matter, the ones I smelled had no aroma.

Pitcher plant (Nepenthes Villosa)

Kinabalu Orchids

Around this altitude we also found raspberry-like plants. I ate some and though not quite ripe, they even tasted like raspberries, and no, I did not halluciante or die. Apparently they were indigenous.

Wild Raspberry

We pushed through the last few kilometers, encountering only one feisty Dutch couple who, being led by a domineering woman came giddily flying by us, stopping only briefly to make sure we were aware of her satisfaction with passing two men, and then continued off barking orders at her panting male companion to keep up. Feeling the altitude, jetlag, and lack of fitness, we gladly hobbled in to the hut as the misty clouds closed in, giving way to a steady rain. It was about 1:45pm, and hade taken us the standard 5 hours to make the trek.

Disgusted Scott

Arriving at Pendant Hut

Phew made it!

Kinabalu - Surviving the blue beast - Part II: On the up and up

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Sat, 03 Mar 2012 09:06:00 +0000

Kinabalu comes from either ‘cina’ meaning China, and balu, meaning widow, or from Aki Nabalu, meaning spirit of the dead in a local dialect. As history goes, the natives had always been afraid of spirits at the top of the mountain and it was not until 1851 when the first documented summit was recorded, by a British military officer named Hugh Low, who made it to the top in large part due to the sacrifice of 7 white chickens.

As legend goes, there once was a dragon that lived at the top of the mountain protecting its treasure – a gleaming jewel, which he often played with by throwing it in the air and catching it with his toungue; a feat which was responsible for the dazzlingly light shows witnessed near the summit. As the legend of this magnificent gemstone spread over seas, it made its way to the emperor of China, who decided he must have it for himself. He sent his two sons with a large fleet of junks to bring it back. After several attempts the older brother gave up in defeat, but the youngest would not be deterred. By studying the habits of the dragon he came up with a plan. He made a decorated Chinese lantern as a replica of the jewel, and a giant kite large enough to carry him into the sky. Realizing the dragon left the jewel alone when he went for food, the young brother waited for the right breeze and then had his men fly him up to the spot. With the jewel in hand he flew safely down, boarded his ship, and began to merrily sail home. However, in short time the dragon realized he'd been duped by a cheap Chinese imitation, and chased the boats into the sea. As the dragon gained on the ships and all appeared lost, the brothers fired cannon balls at the dragon. With a jewel crazed-mind, the angry dragon mistook the cannon balls as his precisous gemstone, opened his mouth to catch them, burnt his tounge and, filled with cannonballs, sank to the bottom of the ocean, and the Chinese brothers sailed home victorious.

Apparently there may be some truth to the legend, because hundreds there are documented visits of a fleet of Chinese junks carrying cannon to Brunei, around 1400, apparently as part of Zheng He’s voyages. It is also proven that the 2nd Sultan of Brunei (1402) was actually the son of a Chinese Emperor.

At any rate – back to the climb. We were the only two in the van as it steadily climbed along the ridge line leading to the park head quarters. After a quick stop at the lookout and sleepy market, we continued the journey, climbing higher above the sprawling valleys shrouded in mist. From the south side of the mountain, we could see large streams of water flowing down various portions of the mountain, cutting deep white sections in to the sparsely covered walls. The cloud cover on the mountain changed rapidly – going for clear to shrouded roughly every 15 mins. We reached the check in point and our assigned (and required) guide (Saudi, whom I could not help calling Sarry) joined us in the van as we headed up the road to start of our hike at the 1866m Timpohon gate.

All checked in at the visitor center

Timpohon Gate - Start of hike

It was 840am when we started upwards through the humid jungle – travelling relatively lightly with only a few liters of water, our warm gear, some snacks, and the Bill-Clinton magazine. The well trodden path led us constantly up wards, with many sections being staired and protected with asian hardwood railings. Most of the trail also had high-voltage wiring and plumbing running along side. There were numerous rest stations along the way, with bathrooms and unfiltered water. We counted off the markers for distance and elevation at every half kilometer – knowing we were headed for the Pendant Hut at approx 3200m and 7km of trail.

Scott calibrates his altimeter

This was worse coming down

After an hour or two of hiking, we began to meet folks from the previous day on their decent. We asked them how it was and to our surprise and discouragement they all said they had not summitted due to poor weather conditions. A large volume of rain had fallen overnight, and though each of them had started hiking at 2:30-3am, when they got to the gate above the huts it closed due to 2-3 feet of water flowing on the trail, and they were turned back by the officials. And that was it for them – no summit, no refunds: back home. As this type of outcome was unacceptable for us, we probed and questioned them about alternatives and possibilities, such as waiting out the weather, starting early, etc. Eventually we found someone who said that if you leave at 12am you could make it through the gates before the officials, but if the weather was bad it would not be safe. Because it is unfortunately not possible to get an accurate prediction of the weather on the mountain, all let her decide your fate for you as she pleases, and so it would be for us as well.

We kept pushing up the long path hoping there would not be two nights of rain in a row, and continually gauged the weather – which was becoming more and more overcast as we hiked up. Around 11:30am we reached the junction of the Timpohon and Meslau trail at 2700m and had our lunch. We had paid a premium for this guide company, so we were not quite satisfied with the crust-less American cheese white sandwiches, and hardboiled eggs packed in a styrofoam container. At this point our desk-legs were pretty beat having climbed about 3000ft through the red-mud and rock trail over the last 4km. We mulled the chow and the prepared ourselves for the rest of the climb.

Premium Malaysian lunch special

Scott savors every last bite

Kinabalu - Surviving the blue beast - Part I: Start of Journey

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Sat, 03 Mar 2012 07:20:00 +0000

Kinabalu - 4096m

Scott and I touched down at Kota Kinabalu international airport in Malaysian Borneo Friday afternoon with high expectations, and very excited to kick off the next chapter of yet another loosely planned adventure.

At only 6 degrees N, this was the closest to the equator I had been. We were shooed off the tarmac while attempting a photo of Scott holding Bill Clinton on the cover of a travel magazine, with the backdrop of a Cebu-Pacific plane, which was just a warm-up to the summit-shot Scott had planned to win a Delta contest.

Scott and Bill - best of friends

Having travelled about various islands in the Philippines, and recently through Thailand, I was expecting the usual battle with touts over taxis, accommodations, and tours. Without any experience (or time for research), it was with guarded caution that I pre-paid for a taxi to our hostel and then hesitantly walked to the waiting line of taxis. Alas, there was no harassment, no bartering, and we arrived effortlessly at our hostel. What a relief it was not be worried about being the fool soon parted from his money. I wondered if this had something to do with the Muslim culture, and hoped this to be a harbinger for the rest of the trip.

About one week earlier, over some quick email exchanges, Scott and I had locked in our 5 day February trip and agreed to attempt both our primary reason for a trip to Borneo: a summit expedition of the highest peak in south east asia (question mark), Kinabulu, as well as a sojourn to the wealthy, jungle-laden sultanate of Brunei.

With only a week’s notice on dates, we were lucky to find accommodation on the mountain. As we were to find out, the mountain is extremely controlled, allowing no more than 200 guests per day, 146 of which stay at the main public hutte, Laban Rata, with the rest crammed in to two huts run by private tour groups. Though we had to pay a premium, we booked an adventure package with Mountain Torq, an all inclusive trip to the summit, and a descent on the world’s highest via ferrata (3776m).

After a short night in a room next to the noisy hotel bathrooms, we were up at 6am breakfasting in the hostel lobby and multiple cups of teh tarik, and then off, into the waiting van for the 2 hour journey to the park HQ. We were rewarded from the onset with clear views of the distant Kinabalu massif, a highly unique granite feature rising 4096m from the sea. Unlike many of the mountains along the pacific rim, this one is not volcanic. The mountain also towers over the landscape; the 2nd highest peak on the island being a mere 2500m. The impressive vertical rock façade, easily distinguishable from land, sea, and air, beckons the adventurous spirit and intimidates all but the naive. We had our eyes fixed on the beast as it loomed closer and closer.

That's 13438 feet sea to summit

Breakfast

Kinabula - Chinese Widow

Blog

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Fri, 02 Mar 2012 11:00:00 +0000

I started this blog site to chronicle my 5 month stay in Stuttgart during my PhD studies. I went through some blogging withdrawals after getting home and told myself I should continue it. 4.5 years later, I'm finally getting around to it. Blogging's not quite like riding a bike and as you'll see in the posts, I'm quite rusty.

Hopefully I'll keep the post frequency a little higher this time around.

The Dufour - Part VII - Saddle to Monte Rosa. (5000ft of descent). Almost Dead.

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 20:44:00 +0000

Saddle to Monte Rosa. (5000ft of descent).

The climb down tortured our knees, so where we could we glissaded down. The snow had now been fairly softened by the midday sun, and by the time we reached the crevasses it was fairly slushy. Shortly before we cleared the glacier, a light hail began and the sound of thunder could be heard in the distance. We had just made it down in time. The hail turned in to a very light patchy rain as we began scrambling down the rocky morraine.

The rest of the way down was quite uneventful, except for one very strange, amazing, and rather dangerous event.

While rock hopping along the morraine, the Monte Rosa hut had come in to view through the low lying grey clouds, and I guessed we were only about 45 mins from reach the hut. We had almost caught back up to the Italians now, whom having taken the shortcut East ridge were once quite a bit in front of us.

The following happens all in the course of about 1.5 seconds. Scott and I were chatting as I lead us down the rocks with Scott maybe 10 yards behind. I had just said something, when suddenly I heard a strange noise at the same time Scott yelled
“Holy shit Gabe!”.

The funny noise combined with the tremor in his voice as he yelled made my stomach sink and my mind raced with possibilities as I was whirling around to look at him. My brain was subconsioucly processing this noise. It was a very loud low-pitched buzzing noise, lasting only half a second. That noise had reminded me of the buzz of a large insects wings, though the strength and depth of this buzzing would have required it to be a huge, HUGE insect. Thus the first scenario that my brain created was that some very scary/cool insect/bird had landed near Scott and he was just excited to show it to me.

With this in mind as I turned fully around and cast my eyes on Scott, I saw him standing paralyzingly still with his arm over his head but bent behind his head and what seemed to be something bird-like on his head. Holy crap I was thinking. At the same time I had said “What?!” and Scott said “I just put my hand in the air…” and, I suddenly realized my first hopeful instinct was utterly wrong, and that we were in serious danger.

In an instant I realized that the bird on his head was actually his hair was standing straight up, and indeed that loud buzzing noise was the same hum caused by high voltage electricity traveling through air. We were directly beneath a highly charged thundercloud that was ready to discharge.

By putting his hand in the air, Scott had summoned the cumulative charge from the thunderhead above us and creating an sharp electric field between him and the cloud, the electric force was strong enough to ionize the air around him – hence the loud buzzing noise, and causing his hair to stick straight up. This was a form of the phenomenon known as “St. Elmo’s Fire” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Elmos_Fire though in this particular case, I noticed no apparent color.

Having just read “Shattered Air (http://www.bobmadgic.com/books.html)”, I was fully caught up to speed on all the mountaineering lighting disasters, terminology, and how best to avoid being nailed. Being on a ridge in a thundercloud wasn’t the best way to avoid this, so I quickly yelled “It’s lightning!” and we both instinctively crouched lower, and knew we had to get off this high ridge and back to the hut.

Recalling that one of the kids on Half Dome was killed by lighting running through his body to a wet rock, I hurredly told scott not to touch anything as our only protection now was our rubber soles insulating us from the ground. In the light rain, we doubled our pace, and crouched over, hurried down the rock no longer using our hands to stabilize ourselves on the glacial debris.

And, as Scott was now a walking ball of charge, in fear of him unleashing a nasty shock on me I stayed away from him as we hauled ass back to the hut.

I took a photo of what was left of scott’s cool hairdo, and we pulled in to the gear room just as heavy rain began. We had survived the crevasses, touts, the west ridge, grumpy Italians, lack of sleep, fatigue, bad weather, and st. elmos fire. It was time to take our hiking boots off, sit back in the hut with a beer served by our favorite mountain hostess, and reflect on our accomplishment of summiting the highest peak in Switzerland: The Dufourspitze.

Yesterday's Oddity.

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Wed, 12 Sep 2007 09:42:00 +0000

Most of yesterday went by as usual -- until I got home. One of my seven new roommates was in the kitchen cooking a late dinner, so we started some friendly chatting. After a few minutes, one of his friends from downstairs whom I had never met came over with a tasty looking omlette. He kindly invited me to some, and I accepted. I introduced myself and asked him his name.

"Jihad" he replied. I repeated it back to him to make sure, since I have never heard that as a name before. Indeed, it was Jihad. OK, no big deal right. Well this is where it gets a little more intersting.

My roommate, (and I kid you not), Osama, metioned how it was another 'unfortunate' name.

At that moment, we all somewhat akwardly realized that a guy living in the US was having dinner with two guys from Palestine: Osama and Jihad -- on Sept 11. How's that for strange? It made for a good conversation starter though.

For the record - the omlette was delicious, they both are very good guys, and we all got along great.

The Dufour - Part VI - The West Ridge to Summit (15,203 ft)

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Tue, 04 Sep 2007 21:12:00 +0000

The West Ridge to Summit (15,203 ft, 4634 m)

August 19th, 8:55am

The west ridge traverse begins at the saddle (4359 m), about 1000 ft below the obscured summit, and perhaps a little over twice this distance as the crow flies. From the saddle, we had a view across a deep valley towards Italy.

As we arrived, the other groups had just begun the ascent up the very steep wall of snow leading on to the narrow West Ridge.

After a rock solid Corny bar, I pulled out my water bottle from the side of my pack, punched the ice out of the mouthhole and took a long swig of the slushy water.

I looked up at the start of this next segment. The first part steeply followed footsteps up a long snowy cornice-like ridge. To the right was a sharp drop off, and to the left a steep but rolling drop off. A mistake in either direction would be tragic.

View of the start of the West Ridge from first snow 'tower'. Picture does not do it justice.

Looking high up at the climbers above us who were nearing the top of the snow tower Scott and I giddily began the ascent to the summit.

On the up and up.

After the first snow tower, a short traverse of some snowy, rock out-croppings brought us to another snow tower, roughly as steep as the first, but not quite as high. The altitude here made it impossible to hurry at any point, so our slow cautious steps and constant plunging of the ice axe took us up easily to the top.

View down the first snow tower

View looking down from one of the snow towers. The plateau is about 2000ft below. If you look closely towards the top, you can see the trail in the snow, as well as two hikers together on the glacier.

Scott with second tower in back ground -- the clouds had started to come in by now

(Note - I am now leaving out most of the 'emotional details of the Ridge hike. Should anyone want to know I would be happy to share the experience over a beer).

At the top of this second snow tower, we had the bulk of the vertical climbing completed. There remained two sections of fixed rope, and several some interesting maneuvers around the brown, windblown rock. As we ascended the last section of fixed rope, we were passed by the solo climber returning along the west ridge for home. Shortly after this we both felt fairly relieved to have found ourselves at the cloud covered summit. It was 9:55am, a little over an hour from our turn around time.

Scott on the Summit of the Dufour. The sun came out for us

Summit shot. Wearing the hat I lost on the Dufour

On the highest point in Switzerland

We rejoiced on top, snapped the obligatory summit shots, had some refreshments, and decided we better get off the mountain asap as the wind and clouds continued to grow. As the remaining two groups in front of us had apparently done, we continued eastwards towards the Nordend /Dufour couloir. Finding a traffic jam at the fixed ropes caused by the Italian team rappelling from the East Ridge, and worried about time and the uncertainly of that descent, we turned around and summitted the Dufour a second time, and then hurriedly traced our route back along the West Ridge.

Knowing that most of the mountaineering tragedies happen on the descent, it was with deft caution that we hurried down the fixed ropes, along the rocky ridge, down the two snow towers and back to the safety of the Saddle. Once there, we knew we had escaped the worst and though it was still a long way back, we felt we were out of any serious danger (weather or other).

On the saddle, the sun came out again, and we were surprisingly greeted by a black raven who flew in at 14000 ft, about 6000 ft above the tree line. He departed via the southern valley before I could get some Corny bar ready for him.

Raven at 14000 ft. He flew away when he noticed we didn't die.

We said goodbye to the West Ridge and shifted our mentalities to work in a longer frame of time as we set off from the Saddle for the long 5000 ft descent back to the Monte Rosa hut.

One of the sections of fixed rope along the Dufour West Ridge

View of the Matterhorn (4478 m) and the Alps, from the the Monte Rosa Sattel (4359 m)

The Dufour - Part V - 10,500 ft to the saddle at ~14000 ft (4369 m)

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Tue, 04 Sep 2007 21:12:00 +0000

The Dufour - Part V -10,500 ft to the saddle at ~14000 ft (4369 m)

August 19, 2007 ~ 4am -8:55am

I was in a trancelike state for most of this leg of the journey. In the darkness, my world was confined to the faint circle of light cast by my headlamp upon the snow in front of me, with the rope running through the center of the halo and onwards to Scott 30 m ahead of me. I glanced around on occasion but otherwise just gazed at the rope while listening to the sound of it gliding on the crusty glacier and to the regular crunch of my crampons punching the snow.

On occasion, the rope in front of me stopped, and I would stop and glance up at Scott to see him look around or take a break. We had several steep snow fields to climb, and around us, most of the other climbers were taking the same slow, repeated steps in the snow.

Eventually, the sky slowly began to brighten, and the tops of the peaks far behind us began to turn pink with the first rays of the sun.

It was still several hours before we would see direct sunlight as we were climbing in a SE direction, though I was able to turn my headlamp off and continue climbing in the dull light. After mounting a long hill, we found ourselves just beneath the Scholle, very close to 4000 m. Now that the crevasse danger had passed, we shortened the rope to about 10 m and assessed our situation. Scott and I both felt great and free from any altitude problems. The Dufour ridge was now clearly in front of us, and all traces of the earlier lightning storm were completely dissipated, save only a wisp of pink cloud over the Nordend, a peak just north of the Dufour.

Our next destination about a kilometer away, The Saddle, rose up another 1000 ft above us to the right of the ridge. Feeling strong and ahead of schedule by an hour, we marched on upwards along the switch-backing trodden path, and soon found ourselves in the center of the saddle at the base of the west ridge. It was 8:50 am and we were still ahead of schedule.

The DUFOUR - Part IV - Start of the Climb (to 10,500 ft)

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Sat, 25 Aug 2007 10:47:00 +0000

August 19th, 2007

1:38am

Inside the grey stone-walled Monte Rosa Hut, in a dark dorm room on the top bunk, Scott shakes me out of my dazed state. The other visitors and climbers are still slumbering. For at least the past hour or so I have been lying restlessly thinking over and over about our impending climb, and what I would do should something go wrong. Would my weight during a self arrest be enough to stop Scott should he break through into a crevasse? What do I do if he is dangling on the other end of the rope? What if the weather came in while we were up on the exposed ridge? Will I know if I am getting altitude sickness before it is too late? If the person in back should fall on the ridge - we needed an unmistakable code word that meant the person in front throws himself off the other side of the ridge. All these things ran through my head and for the third night in a row I had little sleep.

In seconds though, I was wide awake and beside Scott, dressing by headlamp from the cubby holes in hallway. I quietly made my way downstairs to prepare my bag and make a trip to the outhouse. Outside, the moonless sky was bright with stars, making it easy to distinguish the surrounding outlines of the peaks - and the fluffy cloud cover around the highest ones. I stared around to make what I could of the weather. At 9000 ft, it was a still night just above freezing, and I could feel the excitement build in my body as I filled my lungs with the crisp alpine air.

I rejoined Scott in the cabane. 2 am. The young french boy working for the hut began setting out the hot vat of 'cooked' glacial water for tea as the other climbers began filling the large mess hall. Scott and I sat down to a meal of dense whole wheat bread with butter and jam, cereal, and cheese. I had water, two glasses of tea, and two cups of juice. I had no problem eating what I felt would be enough to keep me going for the first few hours, though Scott had to force the calories down. From some of the manoeuvres around the breakfast table, it was clear we were not yet operating at full capacity. Looking around the room, there were 18 climbers, including us, eating breakfast just like it was any other morning.

We filled our water bottles and headed outside to suit up with the remainder of our gear. With our cold weather and snow gear in our packs, it was 2:40 am when we set off in the dim glow of our headlamps, upwards along the path leading through the glacial moraine. I counted 12 points of light coming from the darkness ahead and above of us. We were almost the last ones out of the cabane.

Not shortly after we left, the first thing I noticed were ominous flashes of light coming from the sky in the direction of the Dufourspitze. Our stomachs sank a bit when it became obvious that this was not coming from the lights of the groups in front of us, but instead from some strange weather system above the mountain we were walking directly towards. On particularly bright flashes, I could see a thick layer of clouds surround the summits of the Monte Rosa Massiv. It would be a long time before we reached those heights, so like everyone else climbing that night, we marched on hoping the system would clear, and that there would be no fresh snow.

I led us for the first hour and a half picking and choosing paths through the boulders and rocks, pausing at times to search for the next cairn. We soon over took the other groups who seemed to be having more difficultly following the 'path', and we mounted the Ober Platteja directly through the center and were the first to reach the start of the Monte Rosa glacier. Having been guides for the other parties through the moraine, there was soon a large group at the foot of the glacier, dawning crampons, ropes, and warmer gear. Along with Scott and I, there was a solo climber from Italy who had followed us closely up the moraine. There was a young French guide named Greg Muffat who was guiding two asian clients (and incidentally also had attempted a climb of the +8000 m Annapurna in 2000 at the same time Ed Viesturs was making an attempt. Both groups turned back due to terrible conditions), and lastly there was a party of four grumpy Italians. At this point, the whereabouts of the four other climbers from the mess hall were unknown.

Here at 10,500 ft, there was a light breeze, and the temperature had dipped below zero, thankfully freezing the top layer of snow on the glacier. Geared up with 30 m of rope between us and Scott in the lead, we set off at a more reasonable pace up the dark glacier. The milky way luminesced above us as the thunderless lighting storm continued on the Dufourspitze. It was 3:30 am.

The DUFOUR - Part III - Monte Rosa Hutte + Plan

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Sat, 25 Aug 2007 10:47:00 +0000

August 17-19th

Our rough expedition itinerary:

Friday afternoon
--leave Zermatt (1700 m) to Rotenboden (2818 m) by train (.5hrs)
--Rotenboden to Monte Rosa Hut (2795 m) -- 3 hour hike

Fri night

--in monte rosa hut

Saturday

-- acclimatization, scout moraine fields and route through crevasse fields on glacier, rest, learn technique from Scott, get tips from folks who had summited.

--sleep at 10pm, sat night

Sunday 2am

--breakfast

2:30am

-- begin hike to the peak of the Dufour (4632 m -- about 6000 ft above the hut).
--summit by 11am
--return to hut by 2pm
--beer and rest, hike to rotenboden by 630pm, zermatt by 7pm.

Red line indicates our planned route. The route starts at the Rotenboden train station (not shown, but behind angle of photo). The green X marks the location of the Monte Rosa Hutte (~9000 ft). The peak of the Dufour is at 15,203 ft, a 7 hour, 6000 ft climb from the hut.

Leaving Zermatt

View of Zermatt from Gornergrat railway (on way to Rotenboden)

Scott and I watched the scenery as the train to Rotenboden slowly climbed upwards. Was I worried about the trip? Nah. I am an optimist. I don't worry about things beyond my control, so despite myself having never been at above ~14200ft, or having ever descended a mountain wearing crampons, nor having ever climbed with scott before, I had nothing but complete confidence in ourselves. The one thing that concerned me was the forecasted weather coming in sometime on sunday, which was our planned ascent day.

The anticipation of the climb was high in both our minds, and neither of us remember much of the hike from the train at Rotenboden to the hut. Good thing I took some pictures along the way.

3hrs from station to hut

we were excited and didn't waste time

Scott on Grenz glacier on way to Hut (we put crampons on for one section)

The last steep climb to hut up on the moraine

Feeling the Czech beer at 9000 ft

The Monte Rosa Hutte

We were greeted at the hut rather briskly by a young german girl in pigtails who has been working summers at the Hut for the past three years (and managing all the demanding climbers), and that despite a rather forward and abrupt air about her, was somehow amusingly lovable. We enjoyed the views and the fresh alpine air, and though saturday was supposed to be absolutely perfect to climb to the peak and there were probably 30 someodd climbers that would be headed out that night that could act as guides, we still decided to risk weather on sunday as opposed to hiking to 15200 ft on the same day we came from sea level. So we went to bed at the 'lights out' time of 10pm.

For anyone who isn't familiar with alpine climbs, one typically attempts to summit as early as possible, never later than 2pm, and preferably in the morning. The reason for this is because the afternoon sun may bring sudden storms and loosen snow and ice, significantly enhancing the possibility for avalanche and glacial shifting. Getting to the top early requires waking up early too. The hut serves breakfast at 2am (and 7am for those not climbing). So from about 1:30-4:30am, our stuffy 15 person room and the rest of the hut was a'bustle with preparations for the climb. Scott and I had another relatively sleepless night.

Saturday August 18, 2007

At the hut (~9000 ft / 2800 m), we studied the topo map intently. The climb consisted of about 1.5 hours over rocky terrain to an elevation of 10000 ft (3109 m), another 4 hours over the glacier to a high ridge (~14000 ft / 4300 m), and then a final 1.5 hours along a ridge taking us to the peak of the Dufour at 15,203 ft (4634 m).

That morning, we hiked the first 2 hours of the hike. For the real hike, we would be climbing in the dark so we wanted to know the route and see how bad the crevasses were. This was an invaluable use of our time, as we spent time getting lost and studying the map, and we also roped up late on the glacier after we noticed we had closely passed a person sized hole that was punched through the snow and went deep in to an icy chasm.

Having never been on a glacier, never been higher than 14,200 ft (Shasta), and never descended on foot from an alpine mountain (we snowboarded down shasta), I relied on Scott for planning and information, as his alpine experiences far outweighed mine. Near the end of the hike Scott shared some glacial techniques with me and we took the time for him to teach me some belay manoeuvres for any treacherous parts or emergency situations that may arise.

On the glacier practicing the route and technique

Some very deep crevasses...we would be on this at night and felt it out during the day

The giant Cairn marking the way through the moraine, with Matterhorn in background

The matterhorn (background) and kleines matterhorn (foreground)

We spent the rest of the day relaxing, playing cards, and chatting with folks coming back from the climb or just visiting the hut, and enjoying the views.

(The one other thing to note here, is that nothing of anything we ever read about the route, nor of anything anyone who had climbed the mountain said, prepared us for what awaited for us on the West Ridge).

Around 4 pm we received the most up-to-date weather forecast for Sunday: morning should be clear with afternoon unsettled. So long as we made it up early enough, we thought, we should be ok. We planned an 11 am turn around no matter where we were, and would pay close attention to the weather. At the first sign of bad weather, we were to turn around. Inwardly I wondered what would be decided should bad weather happen when we were very close to the summit. Would we be able to force ourselves to turn around so close to the summit or would be push on just a bit further and hope to make it out? With many high altitude success and failure stories swirling in my head, I hoped we would not have to make that decision.

After a hut-made dinner (I was the only vegetarian, so it was steak and potatoes for everyone, and baked cheese and potatoes for me), water distribution and planning, and a final go over of the route, I headed off to bed around 9:30 pm. Images of snow covered mountains, crevasses, and climbing filled my thoughts as I drifted into a light sleep.

View from the Hutte: The Grenz glacier and the Matterhorn

A cat at 9000 ft. Apparently the hutte pet. The day before we left, he gave us all a good chuckle by barfing like a champion.

The DUFOUR -- Part II -- To Zermatt

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Sat, 25 Aug 2007 10:47:00 +0000

August 17, 2007

The weekend arrived when jules and scotty rolled in to stuttgart on a thursday night. A somewhat sleepless night ensued and then as planned, we jumped in grammy's Civic at 07:24, with an ETA in Zermatt of 14:24.

The rolling country side of germany brought us quickly to the swiss border, where we were sorely disappointed about both the lack of a passport stamp, and instead having to shell out 40 euros for a highway pass to let us drive on the roads for two days. This, of course, is in addition to the 170 SFr/lt for gas.

Julia driving us into Switzerland

Once inside switzerland, the scenery became gradually more impressive until the mountains loomed far overhead, with the sloping hillsides covered in green grass and finely made brown wooden houses.

I didn't get a great pic of the Swiss countryside but this gives an idea..

Julia and Scott shared the driving, though I must say I felt a little more comfortable when julia was driving:

Scott and Julia eating lunch in the car -- while travelling at full speed!

It didn't take us long to choose the route to Zermatt that required driving on to a train that would take us through the alps instead of over them (how the above picture was taken).

Note picture of cars on top of train on sign

Of course, we paid an extra 16 euro for this excursion, though it was partly offset by a free drink at the grocery coop on the other side of the tunnel (wahoo).

As personal vehicles are not allowed in Zermatt, we parked in Täsch, and then arrived by train at precisely 14:24. In town, we got our bearings, and unintentionally visited the climbers cemetery marking the many young lives claimed by the towering peaks around Zermatt.

Some of many gravestones marking deaths of young climbers on the peaks surrounding Zermatt. Probably better to visit AFTER you come back down from the mountain. Pretty sobering.

It was not without the thought of the possibility of meeting a similar fate in tha back of my mind that Scott and I said goodbye to Julia as we boarded our train to Rotenboden, where the hike to the Dufourspitze would commence.

The DUFOUR – Part I – The conception

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Sat, 25 Aug 2007 10:47:00 +0000

The DUFOUR – Part I – The conception

It all started in May with a few drinks at my place in Berkeley, about 4 days before I left for summer in Stuttgart. After reminiscing about mountaineering trips we had each taken earlier in the year (me to Shasta (click on link for awesome video of that trip)), and he a solo to Lassen (ask him about it), my good buddy Scott and I were waxing philosophical about the benefits of being in Europe at the same time, our proximity to each other (Germany and Czech Republic), and more importantly, our proximity to the fine mountains of the Alps.

Over a few beers, it seemed entirely possible that we could meet up sometime during the summer and tackle something significant; something high and mighty, and so we made loose plans to be in touch when we got to Europe at which point we would figure something out. With my busy schedule I had completely forgotten about our conversation and our golden idea was likely to meet a swift end.

However, the day before I left, I got the following email from Scott, saving this idea from the doom bestowed upon most beer induced schemes:

“Gabe,

Are we climbing this summer? I need to know so that I (and probably you as well) can pack the right gear. I say we f*#$%&@ do it! I'll give you a call later this evening but reply to this email for sure.

Yeah!~Scott”

It took me about three seconds to decide it would be worth it to squeeze in a few more things in to my bag, so I replied in an affirmative, and when I landed in Germany by bag contained all the cold weather/alpine hiking gear necessary except crampons and an ice axe. The rest, I figured, I could rent, and the details we could discuss.

In Germany, more than two months went by before the thought of bringing all my gear to germany and not using it wore too strong, and so I relayed a message to Scott through his gf, Julia. We need to climb.

Scott responded with enthusiasm and for the first time I really believed we would climb something. Within one or two emails we had narrowed it down to the first or second highest peaks in Europe (not including Russia) -- number 1: Mt. Blanc at 15,781 ft (4808 m), or the highest peak in Switzerland -- the Dufourspitze, at 15,203 ft (4624 m). Mt. Blanc was quickly ruled out due to ease of route and multitudes of people, so over an IM session, we planned the rough dates and trip logistics. Operation DUFOUR was born, and with our hearts set on conquering the mountain, there was no chance of abortion.

The Dufourspitze on the Monte Rosa Massiv

The DUFOUR Part 0 -- Video Blog -- Ascent of the Dufour Trailer -- Watch First

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Sat, 25 Aug 2007 10:47:00 +0000

On a whim, two men with minimal combined experience and training attempt to summit the highest peak in switzerland: The Dufourspitze (15,203 ft).

Inspired by the fine post-adventure productions of fellow gentleman-adventurer Scott Harrington

travels, visitors, work..

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Wed, 15 Aug 2007 17:44:00 +0000

so far this month things have been extremely busy with work, travelling, and entertaining visitors! all in a good way though; I would rather be busy than bored. and thus, my list of soon to be entered blogs continues to grow.

quick recap: in stuttgart, roslyn visited for a few days before and after her trip to spain. we went to copenhagen. then tal showed up for a two day visit 18hrs after roslyn left.

two days in berlin with tal, then two days in potsdam finally brings me back here just in time to get caught up on some things before heading to climb the dufourspitze with dj jaljeera.

many many pics to come...

bad blogger

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Wed, 01 Aug 2007 22:30:00 +0000

things have been too busy for me lately!! work has been largely theoretical lately resulting in me not wanting to do anything on the computer when I get home. late nights in lab + a fun trip to copenhagen = no blogging.

I might have to resort to just posting some pictures.

in other news - after finishing Faust part one, and Heidi, I am now 100 pages in to Anna Karenin. my commutes are flying!!

old posts

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Sat, 07 Jul 2007 22:25:00 +0000

I back dated a post from June 16th (Swabian Alps), and probably will do that again soon...I have been slacking on my posts! research has been taking it's toll...

the TGV and Exploding Birds

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Sat, 07 Jul 2007 21:25:00 +0000

July 7, 2007

My borrowed bike ready for the ride along the Rhine

While I was waiting in the Stuttgart train station to go meet my uncle and his family in the small Rhine Valley town of Alten Ahr, a sleek looking, very un-germanesk train, - Frances high speed train (TGV) train - rolled in to dock.

TGV in the Stuttgart Hauptbanhof

The 3.5hrs Stuttgart-Paris connection is only a month old, and is the first France-Germany TGV connection. At 350 km/hr , it out-paces most german trains by almost double. As I was observing the train, I noticed I wasn't the only one curious about it; it became clear by all the flashing cameras that most people waiting on the platform were merely there to have a gander.

Looks like a spacetrain compared to the squarish german trains

After an examination of the front of the aerodynamic TGV, and then the fronts of the flat faced german trains, I came to the conclusion that 350 kph is simply too fast for birds to dodge out of the way, and , in fact, explode when the TGV trains hit them. There were about 5 splatter marks on the TGV, and none on the three other german trains I checked out.

plumage carnage

German Railway Strike

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Tue, 03 Jul 2007 10:51:00 +0000

July 3, 2007

I had been warned about an impending strike by the workers of the Deutsche Bahn – the german national railway. They also operate the subway system in Stuttgart known as the S-Bahn, which has 6 lines running through town and into the surrounding suburbs. My fastest commute to Max Planck from downtown involves taking the S-bahn, thus I usually take it several times a week.

Fortunately for me, I have several ways to get to work that dont involve the S-Bahn. There is another subway/light rail system known as the U-bahn, which stops right in front of my apartment, so I take this at least twice every day.

Today was slated to be the first day of the strike, and sure enough, moments before I boarded the insanely packed train at my U-bahn station, Stöckach, the sign flashed news about the current strike:

The German Railway is closed due to strike. There is currently no transfer possibility to the rapid-transit railway lines S1 through S6.

Even during normal rushhours, I can always find a seat on my U-bahn, but with the multitudes of commuters seeking alternative routes, I had to push my way on to this morning‘s train.

Other then being a little too close to the germans, things were going as usual...until just before the third stop of the trip, the conductor said a few things in german I didn’t understand. From the giant collective groan from the crowd on the train I knew it wasn’t a good sign. Sure enough when the doors opened, not a single person was attempting to remain on the train, so I exited as well.

The conductor said some more things in German and I thought I understood that another train would be arriving in one or two minutes. My suspicions were confirmed by the entire contents of the now empty departing train standing at the edge of the platform awaiting the next one.

Sure enough, the next train started pulling in and I was happy that I didn’t have to waste much time. But as it drew near, it was clearly just as packed as the one we had just got off from! Luckily some people disembarked and the rest of us somehow defied some rules of physics and shoved ourselves in. The doors closed and the train grumbled out of the station.

I made it in to work a little later than usual, and learned that this strike is only scheduled to last from 6am to 9am today. If this is the case, this seems to be more of just a demonstration than a real strike. And though I admittedly know nothing about the causes and conditions of the strike, I hope I dont have to continue the commute like I did today!

Side note - despite the sardine like packing of the first train, and the fact that contents of two packed trains were then amazingly combined in to only one, this still could not even come close to rivaling my regular experience on the overfilled commuter trains in Mumbai, India.

Max planck and my research.

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Mon, 02 Jul 2007 22:35:00 +0000

June 27 , 2007

I have had some requests to post some info on what my research and work life is like here. This is something I have been meaning to get to, especially considering that it is why I am here, and what I have been spending an the overwhelming majority of time doing…despite me only reported fun non-research things so far!

All my fun exciting things related to my research I write in my lab notebook, which as of my six week mark - today - I am on page 91 (including TOC and frequent access section).

But if this blog is supposed to give a more complete overview of my time here, then this is sorely overdue.

MPI for Solid State Research Organization:

From the beginning I have been impressed with the organization and work environment of MPI. The place is clean, fully stocked, well-organized, and seemingly up to date. My office is big, the people are great in both a social and technical sense.

Like I’ve mentioned, my division of MPI is located essentially all within one building, with 7 floors. Each floor is divided in to sections (A, B, C, D, M), with about 15 offices and/or labs per section.

my office label 7 A 7 is floor, section, room

As one of my first tasks, I was given two lists of names and room numbers, and I had to go on a scavenger hunts of sorts, finding each person and listening to what each one had to tell me. It was quite thorough, and was very helpful in understanding the layout, expectations of research, safety, and administrative procedures, authorship on papers, amongst other things. I was duly impressed with the competence, eloquence, and conciseness of the dialogue with just about everyone I met. And many of the people, such as the IT guy, and the rules and ethics guy, are full fledged scientists, but they act as these other ‘administrative’ type duties as secondary roles. However, most of these other divisions exist as support groups.

As for the laboratories and workshops, these are spread throughout the building with the primary metal, wood workshop on the first floor, along with the library, and supply store. All generic office supplies are free and available on a self serve basis. Other items at the supply store, such as sample holders, generic chemicals, gloves, kimpwipes, etc., are also all readily available but are inventoried as you leave and billed to your home department. This system is excellent as they are stocked with about anything you could need, so you never have to wait even a day (and as much as I love mcmaster carr and their speed, at least here you don’t get your item in a mountain of packaging).

ladies of the 'scientist needs' supply shop showing off some of the lovely gear you can get there, with boxes full of more things in back ground

MPI Research

Everything revolves around research here. There are the scientists…and the science support groups. The name of the supply store literally translates to ‘scientists needs’ store. Specific to my research, if I need to have XRD or SEM performed on my sample, it would actually be very difficult to do it myself, so I give the samples to a service group with a few details and conditions to look for, and they analyze the sample and send me the results. The same goes for Raman, and FTIR. There is a sample prep room where they do all the grinding and polishing of samples.

For the most part this is very nice, because everyone here is a career person, and thus has many many years of experience with what they do, are very good, and very fast. It has allowed me extra time to focus on running my other experiments, and to analyze all the data on the fly. It does have it’s downsides in that you lose a little bit of freedom, but so far this has not been an issue for me.

There is a glass blowing workshop, a metals workshop, wood workshop. The compressed air and liquid facilities, electronics components shop. There are central bins for recycling of peanuts, packaging, computers, plastics. There is paper recycling on every floor.

electronics shop drawers. there are lots of these. parts are come and take at leisure...just note on the log what you took.

My research

My research here is going very well so far! As with other things here in Stuttgart, things are better than expected. In brief, I have been spending the majority of my time synthesizing glass membranes, investigating their proton conductivity, and trying to determine a transport mechanism.

As I mentioned, my research blog is in my lab notebook, which I will be very unhappy to have to leave behind.

my lab notebook

The first two weeks was spent getting oriented and trained, learning (and fixing!) the new test equipment (the software and test setups are completely different than I have been used to, and in this sense it has already been a great experience getting to learn new methods and equipment). Set up took a bit of effort for certain things, for example, for making my glasses, I needed to find myself a high temperature furnace, platinum crucible, high temperature gloves, faceshield, brass plates, and also set up my HF washing station.

Things are fully set up now for me, and I have been able to easily make different compositions of glasses under different conditions, examine them with FTIR and Raman, and of course conductivity. My backlog here, as with my experiments in Berekeley, is on the AC impedance. Until recently, I only had one set up, and many of the tests take a significant amount of time testing under different temperatures and atmospheres.

I have also been experimenting with TGA, though this has proven to be challenging, and so far has not given any interesting results. (Update - it has now!)

some lab equipment I use (most of this is for the TGA and conductivity testing)

My group

I am officially part of the Maier group, with Dr. Kreuer being my immediate advisor. There are about 8 phd students, 1 undergraduate, 7 post docs, 3 or 4 scientists, and 6 or 7 technicians, and two secretaries. All but the technicians meet every wednesday morning at 9am for seminar. The phds and postdocs tend to have more informal meetings every once in a while.

In honor of my 4pm meetings back home, some of the post docs and grad students opened a bottle of champagne on a friday afteroon at work.

As I had mentioned, everyone in the group is also very nice, and have really helped me adjust quickly to the new surroundsings by including me at lunch and other social breaks. Maybe I am just getting better at it, but it didn't take long to feel like this was home.

So far I have heard about 4 talks, and have been impressed with the quality of presentations. I am slated to give one on July 11th.

Dr. Kreuer, whom was the primary reason for choosing this location, has been immensely helpful in getting my critical experiments set up, a helping me be more efficient with my experiments, and providing valuable insight into the mechanisms of what may be happening with my (and related) systems. So far I have been working relatively independently, fabricating and running my tests, and when needed have been able to seek assistance from Dr. Kreuer.

In addition to my work here, I also have some parallel work going back home, and have been spending a few hours a couple mornings a week analyzing old (and new) data, and coordinating with Tony (my proficient undergrad helper), and other collaborators on the project.

Anyway - of course, even scientists like to have fun once in a while. Point in case - there are some pretty big name scientists here - including nobel prize winner Klaus Von Klitzing. But even a nobel prize wont stop him from dressing up as a little school boy and entertaining the entire max planck institute, and eating giant cakes.

The directors of Max Planck dressed as school boys. Nobel Von Klitzing on front left. Maier, my department head, at back right.

Giant cake at max planck summer party. that serving knife is a big knife. the party went till 2am with dancing, live music, beer, and wine. I had to leave at 11:30pm to catch the last bus.

doppel rainbow in stuttgart

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Sat, 23 Jun 2007 14:01:00 +0000

It poured rain for 10 minutes yesterday evening, then the sun came out. The pictures dont do it justice, but this was the view from the top of my apartment building roof near downtown Stuttgart. The end of the rainbow can be faintly seen in the last picture too.

A visit to the Swabian Alps

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Sun, 17 Jun 2007 21:25:00 +0000

June 16, 2007

Flowers of Bad Urach

One of my only german friends at Max-Planck - Max, kindly invited me to join him and his friend for a hike in the swabian alps to visit an old castle.

I agreed and on a beautifully sunny sunday the three of us hopped in Max's small honda and headed out of bustling stuttgart.

I had heard that the swabian alps were not that big, but after an hour of driving through gorgeous german countryside, I was taken quite by surprise when I received a reply of "yes" after I jokingly pointed at some small hills and asked if those were the swabian 'alps'.

"those are the alps?!" I said in disbelief.

"No, no" replied Max in his german accent. "Albs. Those are the swabian ALBS."

approaching the swabian 'alps'

aha. the ALBS! of course. what was I thinking?

well, at anyrate, I will let the pictures speak for themselves. despite not living up to the magnitude of their similar sounding cousins, the albs were indeed quite lovely.

A fat rampart of the prison-castle Bad Urach, built in the mid 11th century

thick

In the dungeon

The dungeon enforcer

relaxing on the rampart (notice the cows in the pasture below?)

castle hikes are unknown in the US. It doesn't get much better than this...unless the one could hike down to that valley and find a waterfall....

Bad Urach Wasserfall

Sandra and Max

A view from the ridge opposite the castle, above the wasserfall

(castle on hilltop right)

what the heck???!!

Venkateshreddy78@yahoo.com (Train) — Tue, 12 Jun 2007 16:50:00 +0000

I just found these photos on my camera.

When KatR was staying here a couple weekends ago (when I still lived in the guest haus), I walked in to the bathroom one day after she took a shower and was amazed to see something coming out of the floor!!

'What the heck'! I said out load with a laugh.

Soap monster

close up of soap monster -- when I showered I never made one

Although I obviously realize this thing is a soap bubble monster that appeared from the depths of the shower drain (as a result of the shower drain connecting with this floor drain), I still have no idea how katR managed to do this in the shower.

it is one of those womanly mysteries I care not to think about too much.