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Freddie Wilkinson - Pro Blog 6
  EnlargeDave Sharratt finishing his block lead on Mahindra.
Photos by Freddie Wilkinson.
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The slacker checks in....
Online editors note: Sorry Freddie, no one believes you're a slacker!
As with so many facets of alpine climbing, our decision to try Mahindra came down to a question of logistics. Our gear was already stashed up on the Dali Glacier, and I’d be damned if I were going to hike up there, retrieve the kit, and go around to another glacier. Mahindra it would be. SEE Four Big Free Routes in India
The triple-headed mountain holds prime real estate, sitting at the head of the glacier. The face was steep and sustained, bisected by a single ledge system at two-thirds height. It appeared to be composed of high quality granite, but it didn’t offer the kind of splitter crack systems that you might find in other alpine rock venues, like Patagonia or the Bugaboos. This would be a more subtle affair.
 EnlargeDave Sharratt on Mahindra.
Photos by Freddie Wilkinson.
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Quite frankly, I thought that in attempting Mahindra we might be biting of a bit more than we could chew. The only established route on the face was a mixed gully done by Czech hardman Dodo Kopland. Further right, an Italian team had attempted a slender corner in the middle of the wall, retreating from about half way up the face. The system began two hundred feet up the wall and then blanked out a couple of pitches higher — but it looked to be the best option for a speedy ascent of the wall. Still, I was doubtful that the line would go without a bit of time-consuming aid trickery.
I confess, however, that the real source of my doubts was a lack of confidence in my own fitness. 2007 hadn’t exactly been a banner year for me as far as the rock climbing goes. Back home in New Hampshire, my girlfriend Janet and I were in the middle of building a cabin on a parcel of land I had recently bought. Between guiding and carpentry (I am a 5.2 carpenter – and I’m not being modest here), there hadn’t been much time to train. As a matter of fact, my only outing the previous month before I left for India was a single dawn-patrol to the crumbling bulwark of Cannon Cliff.
Dave, however, was psyched. As we rested at base camp after climbing Peak 5960, his eyebrows began to twitch uncontrollably. Unable to exert any self-restraint, the Monster would disappear into the boulder fields each afternoon and ravage the granitic blocks. I knew I had to get him on something bigger before he blew his head gasket.
