STOLNOSTINDEN  –  2074 m

F.D. Smith
18th September 1992

The final sorte of the Jotenheimen contingent celebrating was an attempt on Maradalstyggen and Stilnostinden; three to each mountain.  Alan and Angi Linford with John Sterland for the former and Iain Gilmour, Wayfarer Mike Allen and I elected to climb, taking in a close up encounter with the celebrated Vettisfossen Falls, on route to Stilnostinden.

All six of us drove up to Hjelle where we left the cars.  A pleasant walk followed through the woods to the tiny village of Vetti which carries the name of the family still living there as they were in the time of Slingsby.  Here the track divided; we took the right fork that would take us to Vettisfossen.   This fabulous waterfall soon came into view cascading many hundreds of feet into the Utladalen valley below.

A steep ascent of 900 feet followed lifting us to a vantage point to see the start of the cascade which is one of great tourist attraction for Årdal.  The path continues winding ever upwards over what can only be described as a massive bog that is Vettismorki, which is the source of the waterfall.  For many centuries the loggers have used the waterfall as a means of transporting the logs to the valley below.  Water freezing on its way down forms a cushion of icy crystals thus preventing damage to the timber.

Our accomodation for the trip was the DNT hut at Vettismorki, one of the dozen or so cabins there on any raised area in the marshy ground which contained the tributaries of the upper river Morki-Koldedalen.  The DNT had kindly provided us with keys for their huts along with free membership for the duration of our visit.

The hut was extremely well set up with four bunks, duvets and two spare mattresses, a good stove, gas cooking and high quality cutlery and crockery.  Later we were joined by a Norwegian family, reserved at first, however once we broke the ice, were very friendly, to the extent that they offered the Club special terms for a well appointed cabin they owned to the south of the Jotenheimen that had 26 beds.  Like so many Norwegians, they were quite familiar with the exploits of our second president.

The morning that followed was a trifle better then the previous one, but not good.  The path meandered through the woods, often with streams on either side of the path or crossing it.  But it was interesting and almost pleasant.  The wooded area opened out into a clearing from where we might have been able to see our objective had it been clear of mist. A fight though dense bushes followed enabling us to reach the heavily mossed slopes leading forward to the sub-peak of  Stolnosti.

In such a mist the most careful navigation was essential. Here, Iain’s skill was demonstrated, a good man to have with you in these conditions.  A series of small snow fields were crossed which did not coincide with anything shown on the map.  Eventually we reached a very ancient cairn covered with moss.  We suspected that it had been erected by Slingsby himself and clearly it is very seldom visited.

But had we reached the summit?  My altimeter only showed 2000m, some 74m short.  We spent about an hour searching for the illusive top, our route carefully paralleling an intimidating cornice six feet to our right.  the white out conditions gave a very false impression; we discovered that we were not gaining height at all, rather the opposite.  It was a relief that on return to camp when we checked the altimeter we found it had been reading low by the appropriate amount.

We retraced our tracks through the mist until we reached lower ground below the cloud base. Each of us took different routes back to the clearing above the bushes and at various speeds rejoined at the hut at Vettismorki.  By this time we were very wet indeed and were delighted to find the hut occupied and that the stove was alight.  After a quick meal and some degree of drying out we descended into the valley. The rain progressively lightened and by the time we reached the car we were no longer wet.

At the car park we were met by Alan and Angi, but no John.  All was apparently well, John being back at the campsite.  Alan with his customary thoughtfulness produced hot soup, what it is to have friends like him.  But there was another reason for meeting us.  He gave us the awful news that Roger Allen had had a fatal though unavoidable accident on Trollvasstind in the Lyngsalpene. As we drove back to Årdalsangen my mind was filled with the many happy and exciting times he and I had spent together in Scotland and in the Alps over the last thirty years.