Since we made it back from South America last August, I have spent the winter organising the events.

We started Super7 Climbing in January 2005 with a committment to climb seven new routes, in good style, on every one of the seven continents. Four years, (and just five expedtions later) and we have just two more continents left to go: Africa and Antarctica!! I guess it is kind of like a post-modern, climber’s equivalent of sailing the 7 seas!

As well as organising the events, it has also been a challenging time in personal terms, with my cousin Mark (an ex-US Navy SEAL) getting killed by an IED (Improvised Explosive Device) in Afghanistan. My cousin Mark was a Surfer-Warrior-Poet and you can read my tribute to Mark Metherell (if interested then you need to scroll down, it is number 9) at:

http://ptacklind.wordpress.com/2008/04/12/mark-and-sarah-in-mexico/

This sad news was followed 3 months later by the death of my brother Theo in Cambridge. His death occurred at around the same time that me and Tom Chamberlain came within a hairs width of getting ‘Lanched when attempting to pioneer a new route up a steep face near Huascaran (Peru’s highest mountain).

The 11 weeks we spent in Peru were both physically and financially punishing and when I got back from my brother’s funeral I had a monster surprise tax bill waiting on the doormat which kept me away from any serious climbing over the winter.

Anyway, enough of all this: I deliberately chose Super7 as a challenge because I wanted to attempt something that would push me above and beyond and then way beyond that and it has certainly done that. Looking through the photos last night, I felt really pleased with just how productive these expeditions have been in terms of actually getting stuff climbed. On every single trip, (except for South America which required two attempts to get a first ascent in the bag) we have just rocked up, and got a route climbed. In New Zealand, James Edwards and his wife Tanya had done some solid reconnaissance work, and in Peru the same can be said for Tony Barton and his prior reconnaisance work on the Huaytapellena peaks. Looking through the pictures, it was also sad to see that some of the characters that we all so much enjoyed spending time with in the base camps in Alaska and Peru are no longer here.

One missing friend is charming Japanese Giri Giri boy ‘Tats’ who disappeared on The Cassin Route on Mt Denali in Alaska. Tats made a big impression on me and James Mehigan for his full throttle approach to alpinism. After me and James climbed Tower Couloir we were so wasted by the challenges of the climbing and the really awful snow conditions that we spent two days recovering and then went home. On that trip Tats and his mates climbed 3 major new routes, pretty much back to back, as well as an attempt, early on in the trip, which ended up with one of their ropes getting trashed. We gave them our rope (since we were leaving anyway) and Tats insisted on giving us money for it. He was impressive as a climber, but as a person he was even better.

Through all the challenges, the thing that has kept me going is both my passion for adventure and a line from Margaret Thatcher’s autobiography that David Hempleman-Adams used to motivate himself when he was crossing Antarctica:

‘It’s easy to start things. But are you a finisher?’

So, massive thanks to our equipment sponsors, as well as the Mount Everest Foundation, the BMC and the Mountaineering Council of Scotland who have supported us so generously so far. Without their support, none of this would have been possible. And thank goodness for my Edinburgh hackney carriage license, (and the considerable generosity of the wonderfull citizens of Edinburgh: The people of Edinburgh, wether they are from Sighthill or Stockbridge, I can tell you, are very generous people: None of this would have happened without them.) as by going out and grafting for three or four 12 hour shifts per week (with breaks, obviously), the cash is starting to add up.

I would like to flag up some outstanding men and one woman who have helped us to fund-raise over the past year. They are Simon Yates, Dave McLeod, Jamie Andrew, Jeremy Windsor and Jenny Pugh and they all supported us and exploratory mountaineering by speaking at our events and then donating half of the takings on the door to this project. Thanks guys. I would also like to thank everyone who has supported our events over the past three years, both everyone who makes the effort to attend and also to our fantastic sponsors.

I’ve realised that if we are going to get the funds together for this, then it totally makes sense to just focus on just one thing that DOES actually generate funds. The economy is pretty ropey right now and takings are down, maybe 15-25% from last year, but I’m doing the best I can (while also having balance in my life ) and as long as things do not get too badly hit by the recession, then we will almost certainly have the cash together for an attempt to climb a new route in Antarctica in the winter of 2010 / 11. If the economy improves, and I really hope it does, as there is a lot of pain out there, then I will be able to bring this forward.

Thanks for reading this. I will have the events programme up by the end of August and I will let you know how I’m getting on with all this and more at the start of 2010.

Me and Greg Boswell were at Birnam yesterday. We’ve both got our eyes on a route called Fast and Furious. It’s a Scott Muir dry tooling route that takes a route up a 45 degree roof and would be about M10 if it had ice on it. That equates to about Scottish XII, though obviously comparisons are somewhat tricky to make, as Fast and Furious is a sport-mixed route. There is no traditional gear on the route – it is climbed entirely on bolts.

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I’m writing this from an idyllic base camp underneath some of the most spectacular unclimbed mountains I’ve ever seen. The campsite is flat and grassy, next to a soothing stream and above us is a scene of Andean wonder…

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It’s 2004, and the Super7 mission is just a glint in my eye.

I’m just back from a couple of years out. I’ve been ‘Living the Dream’ as a dirt-bagging, bin-raiding climbing vagabond, mostly based in Chamonix.

I need cash, fast; and Es Tressider hooks me up with work. Working as a Rickshaw driver taught me a lot of things, some of which I didn’t necessarily want to know…

Sin City

I’m riding Rickshaw No15 on Rose St at 3 am. Two slime-balls wearing silk suits flag me down and leap on board.

‘Okay gents’, I say ‘Where we off to?’

‘Take us to THE BITCHES.’ they leer.

I step off the bike and place my hand on the saddle. The taller one sports a thick black moustache of the sort that was worn by Freddy Mercury on Live Aid. He’s got thick black hair, and a side parting. His buddy has shiny hair, greasy skin and a pot belly. They sway drunkenly in their seats.

‘BITCHES.’ they leer, ‘WE WANT BITCHES.’

‘No problem Gents’, I say as I pull the seatbelt over them and insert the buckle. ‘You want a sauna, eh? I know the perfect place.’ I do the maths in my head. ‘At 3 am a journey to XXX Sauna is a £X plus the add-ons. I hit them with £X because they’re drunk. Another £X for the Gucci shoes and watches. Plus a further penalty charge for a) referring to women in a perjorative manner and b) for being a pair of complete sleaze-balls.

‘Right-o gents,’ I say, leaning back and placing my hand on the saddle.

‘That’s just £X each.’

‘No problem’ says the Freddie Mercury look-alike in a Canadian drawl ‘I’ll give ya double.’

Result!

The traffic is light at this time of night and the derailleur purrs softly as we cruise towards the xxx in the sodium yellow glow of the street-lights.’I got a nightclub in Vancouver’ brags the Freddie Mercury look-alike. ‘Yeah man, I got bitches in the front, I got bitches in the back. You should see ‘em. You come over to Vancouver, man, I’ll hook ya up with some sexy bitches.’

‘That sounds great’ I reply with false enthusiasm; making a mental note to avoid going clubbing next time I’m in Vancouver. ‘It must be great owning a club…’

‘Yeah man, My Momma said to me: “Freddy, next year you are going to HAVE to get married”. What can I say? Sorry Momma, It’s not gonna happen.’ He then rips off the seatbelt, stands up on the washboard of the bike and screams at the top of his voice at 3.20am on a residential street: ‘I LUUUURVE BEAATCHES!’

As we approach the sauna they get less cocky and a bit more nervous; They’re not acting like big-shots now; more like a pair of schoolboys about to do something that might get them into hot water.

‘This place?’ they ask hesitantly. ‘What’s it like?’

XXX is the worst sauna in town. It has peeling paintwork in matt black and curtains made of an on old and badly stained bed-sheet. The panel above the door carries the ‘XXX’ logo in faded gold. And the slogan: ‘XXX: Where your leisure is our pleasure’.

In this part of town, Mother’s warn their children not to walk in front of it for fear of catching disease.

‘You wanna know about this sauna? Well guys, you’ve made a good decision.’ I say, looking forward down the road and grinning to myself ‘Yeah, The girls are all like total babes who look like super-models. There’s a VIP lounge and it’s real exclusive. It’s you know.. Perfect - for classy guys like you.’