Spookdaddy
Cuckoo
- Joined
- May 24, 2006
- Messages
- 7,963
- Location
- Midwich
Slightly old news, but intriguing – and, unless I’ve missed something in the mean time, I don’t think there’s been a resolution. I’ve had a quick shufty around the MB but can’t find that the following story ever made it here – which kind of surprises me. Bump me if I’m wrong.
Full article here.
I was in Scotland at the time and first became aware of this the weekend after it happened - after overhearing a conversation in Tiso’s outdoor gear store in Edinburgh. I later found out that a friend was climbing up there at the time and actually heard the screams. The area was busy with ice climbers at the beginning of the year – apparently the conditions were particularly good at that time – and, if the chatter on the net is anything to go by, the sound was heard by a surprising amount of people. (It’s worth pointing out that the BBC article is first hand – the BBC producer who wrote it was actually there at the time.)
Various culprits have been put forward, some obvious, some not so: foxes, Sika deer, even Bear Grylls (yep, seriously – someone from his production team actually responded).
It’s worth checking out the whole thread on this at UKClimbing, What happened today on the Ben?!. Remarkable for the number of witnesses, the odd scary experience, and how civilised everyone is.
Myself - I’d discount all the options listed above. That amount of outdoors types are going to, between them, recognise a fox call, or the cry of a sika deer, or an eagle. I tend to think that if enough of those witnesses thought they heard a human scream, then that’s what they heard.
I don’t have much of an alternative, though. The one story that does come to mind was told me some years ago by a guy I was training with (and the subject is mentioned in passing by at least one of the UKC posters). He’d been called out to help in the search of a moorland area after screaming had been heard by several witnesses – after an extensive, expensive and fruitless search it was discovered, that night in the pub, that a bunch of New Age types on some sort of overpriced self awareness course had done a primal screaming session up in the hills.(Funny how many people who want to be at one with themselves and/or nature - seem to forget about everyone else; clearly no regard for the effect that screaming their lungs out on a lonely hillside might have on locals, walkers, tourists, the emergency services - or even the sheep.)
Climbers mystified by 'bloodcurdling screaming'
...There are sounds that comfort the winter climber, like the rising tone of a piton being seated into a welcoming crack.
There's that thud an ice axe makes as it vibrates in really good, sticky ice. The clip as a karabiner snaps shut, holding the rope that will stop you if you fall.
Then there are the sounds that warn us. The whoomf of windslab on a slope that's primed to avalanche. Or the skittering of crampons on bare rock in a desperate search for ice.
And then there are the sounds you definitely don't want to hear. Sounds you wish you could forget...
...It started indistinctly, slightly muffled, but quickly came sharp into focus. It pierced through the mist - the most visceral, awful sound.
People talk about bloodcurdling screaming and for the first time I understood. That noise sent a stream of cold blood around my veins and chilled the back of my neck.
My first thought was simple but terrible: I was listening to someone who had just watched a loved one - not simply a climbing partner, but a loved one - fall to their death. There was so much pain and loss in that dreadful noise.
I froze for a moment, barely breathing, still perched on that vertical wall. I wasn't in a secure position, hanging off a few millimetres of metal hooked into the ice. At that moment I just wanted to be gone - off the climb, off the mountain.
This screaming had brought home to me the possible consequences of getting something wrong, of making a mistake. That was honestly what I'd thought I'd heard - the consequences of someone getting it very wrong and losing their life.
But there was no way to make a quick retreat - the fastest way out of this gully was up. I finished the crux and secured myself to three solid ice screws and brought my partner up.
We discussed the screams, trying to work out where they had come from, speculating on what might have happened, and agreed we needed to finish our climb as quickly as we could.
We completed the final, easier pitch, and ended up on the Ben Nevis plateau in the mist, in complete silence.
Full article here.
I was in Scotland at the time and first became aware of this the weekend after it happened - after overhearing a conversation in Tiso’s outdoor gear store in Edinburgh. I later found out that a friend was climbing up there at the time and actually heard the screams. The area was busy with ice climbers at the beginning of the year – apparently the conditions were particularly good at that time – and, if the chatter on the net is anything to go by, the sound was heard by a surprising amount of people. (It’s worth pointing out that the BBC article is first hand – the BBC producer who wrote it was actually there at the time.)
Various culprits have been put forward, some obvious, some not so: foxes, Sika deer, even Bear Grylls (yep, seriously – someone from his production team actually responded).
It’s worth checking out the whole thread on this at UKClimbing, What happened today on the Ben?!. Remarkable for the number of witnesses, the odd scary experience, and how civilised everyone is.
Myself - I’d discount all the options listed above. That amount of outdoors types are going to, between them, recognise a fox call, or the cry of a sika deer, or an eagle. I tend to think that if enough of those witnesses thought they heard a human scream, then that’s what they heard.
I don’t have much of an alternative, though. The one story that does come to mind was told me some years ago by a guy I was training with (and the subject is mentioned in passing by at least one of the UKC posters). He’d been called out to help in the search of a moorland area after screaming had been heard by several witnesses – after an extensive, expensive and fruitless search it was discovered, that night in the pub, that a bunch of New Age types on some sort of overpriced self awareness course had done a primal screaming session up in the hills.(Funny how many people who want to be at one with themselves and/or nature - seem to forget about everyone else; clearly no regard for the effect that screaming their lungs out on a lonely hillside might have on locals, walkers, tourists, the emergency services - or even the sheep.)