A long summer

Indeed it has been a long summer, though the good weather appears to be drawing to a close. Over the last few months, I have attended three cosmology conferences or workshops and also been on a two-week holiday in the Dolomites, where I occupied my time by doing things like this:

La Guglia Edmondo de Amicis, near the Misurina lake.

and enjoying views like this:

Cima Piccola di Lavaredo, from the Dibona route on Cima Grande.

This explains the lack of activity here in recent times.

Returning home a couple of weeks ago, I was full of ideas for several exciting blog posts, including a summary of all the hottest topics in cosmology that were discussed at the conferences I attended, and perhaps an account of my argument stimulating discussion with Uros Seljak. However, it has come to my attention that there are other physicists in other parts of the world who happen to be working on the exact same topic that my collaborators and I have been investigating for the last few months. The rule in the research world is of course "publish or perish" (though some wit has suggested that "publish and perish" is more accurate) – so most of my time now will be spent on avoiding being scooped, and the current hiatus on this blog will continue for a short period. Looking on the bright side, once normal service resumes, I hope to have some interesting science results to describe!

In the meantime, I can only direct you to other blogs for your entertainment and enlightenment. Those of you who like physics discussions and have not already read Sean Carroll's blog (a vanishingly small number perhaps?) might enjoy this post about Boltzmann brains. I personally also enjoyed this argument against philosopher Tom Nagel.

For people interested in climbing news, I can report that my friends on the Oxford Greenland Expedition that I mentioned once here have returned safely after a successful series of very impressive climbs. I found their regular reports of their activities in the expedition diary well-written and rather thrilling – not just the climbing, but also the account of the journey to Greenland by sea in the face of seemingly never-ending gales! Well worth a read, as is this.

Across the Himalayan Axis

I had promised to try to write a summary of the workshop on cosmological perturbations post Planck that took place in Helsinki in the first week of June, but although the talks were all interesting, I didn't feel very inspired to write much about them. Plus life has been intervening, so I'll have to leave you to read Shaun's accounts at the Trenches of Discovery instead.

I also recently put a new paper on the arXiv; despite promising to write about my own papers when I put them out, I'm going to have to postpone an account of this one until next week. This is because I am spending the next week at a rather unique workshop in the Austrian Alps. (This is one of the perks of being a physicist, I suppose!)

Therefore today's post is going to be about mountaineering instead. It is an account I wrote of a trek I did with my father and sister almost exactly seven years ago: we crossed the main Himalayan mountain range from south to north over a mountain pass known as the Kang La (meaning 'pass of ice' in the local Tibetan dialect, I believe), and then crossed back again from north to south over another pass as part of a big loop. In doing so we also crossed from the northern Indian state of Himachal Pradesh into Zanskar, a province of the state of Jammu and Kashmir, and then back again.

The account below was first written as a report for the A.C. Irvine Travel Fund, who partly funded this trip, and it has been available via a link on their website for several years. At the time, the Kang La was a very infrequently-used pass, in quite a remote area and only suitable for strong hikers with high-altitude mountain experience. But in the seven years since my trip it has seen quite a rise in popularity — I sometimes flatter myself that my account had something to do with raising the profile of the area!

Anyway, the account itself follows after the break. There is also a sketch map of the area I drew myself (it's hard to obtain decent cartographical maps of the area, and illegal to possess them in India due to the proximity to the border), and a few photographs to illustrate the scenery ...

Oxford Greenland Expedition

I sometimes wonder about the mix of topics I mention on this blog – is there too much physics, or not enough? Well, today's post is about something completely different: it is a straight-up publicity plug for the Oxford Greenland Expedition. This is a sea-faring and rock-climbing expedition organised by a group of students, and is exactly the kind of exciting exploratory adventure to which the title of this blog refers, so I'd like to support it as best I can. They have a fundraising page here. As I'll try to explain, I think it is a great plan, and they deserve all the support they can get!

The climbing members of the expedition team are all current or former students of Oxford University, and members of the Oxford University Mountaineering Club, whom I have known for a varying number of years (I've climbed on the same rope as many but not all of them). Between them, they have dreamt up an outrageously bold and brilliant plan for a climbing expedition in the Arctic – as the 'Objectives' page of their website puts it, their goals are:

1. Sail to Greenland!
2. Climb the Horn of Upernavik!
3. Sail north! Find an 800 m pillar! Climb it!
4. Explore for new climbs!
5. Sail back!

(The rest of the website is quite amusing too, if you poke around it.) The Horn of Upernavik appears to be a very dramatic 1000-metre-high piece of rock rising straight out of the sea near Uummannaq:

The Horn of Upernavik.

It has apparently also been the objective of several previous expeditions to climb the Horn, but none of them have succeeded. So if this team succeeds, they will be making (a small amount of) history ...

Although all are very good climbers and mountaineers, they are definitely firmly within the ranks of the enthusiastic amateurs rather than elite professionals. I think this makes the audacity of the undertaking all the more wonderful, and appealing to romantic ideals.

Incidentally, two of the members of this team (Ian Faulkner and Tom Codrington) were last year part of a different and equally inspiring expedition to Krygyzstan, during which they, along with Ian Cooper, made only the second ever free ascent of the Mirror Route or Rusyaev Route on Peak 4810, after Alex Lowe and Lynn Hill. A report of this climb and some other stuff they did was published here. So they've definitely got a track record with achieving amazing things!

Anyway, best of luck to the team in their efforts this summer!

The Tragedy of Everest

Yesterday, the 29^th of May, was the 59^th anniversary of the first ascent of Mount Everest, by Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay: a success that followed more than three decades of failed attempts and several deaths on the mountain. At the time, the first ascent was not just the superb achievement of two individuals, but a victory of humankind itself, adjusting the boundary of what was known to be possible.

About two weeks before this anniversary came the sad news that four climbers had been killed on Everest this year. The sadder news is that they died as a direct result of being delayed in an extraordinary pedestrian traffic jam on their way to the summit.

The Guardian today carried a photograph, taken by Ralf Dujmovits, showing a small section of the 600-strong queue of people attempting the climb up the Lhotse face to the South Col before heading for the summit.

Pedestrian traffic jam on Everest. Photo credit: Ralf Dujmovits.

I don't know that I have ever seen a sadder mountaineering photograph.

In other news, in the Himalaya alone there are several hundred peaks over 6000 m high that have never been climbed by any human being before. 

The World's 50 Highest Peaks

There hasn't been enough about mountains or maps on this blog yet, despite my promises. But today The Guardian has a simply wonderful feature on their data blog: an interactive map that allows you to view the 50 most prominent (note: not "highest", despite my post title!) peaks in the world. It's integrated with Google, so you can view maps, satellite images, and terrain details. In some cases the satellite images are supplemented by aerial photographs. If you download the Google Earth plugin, it will even allow a virtual "flypast" over the mountain in question, letting you view it in 3D. Plus there's lots of data on elevation, prominence, first ascents and so on.

I've included a screenshot from the map. This is a zoom in on the Google Earth view of Kangchenjunga. Click on it for a bigger version.

I dare say I will spend a few hours playing with this!

(The map was originally made by Robert Mundigi, and was taken from here.)

A Blog Manifesto

Welcome to Blank On The Map! I have spent a long time reading and commenting on other people's blogs — long enough now, I feel, to have a good idea of what I would like my own blog to look like. In this first post I'd like to set out an overview of what you can expect to find here.

My main intention is to provide a discussion of interesting issues and topics in physics, and in particular in my own area of expertise, cosmology. Of course there already exist several excellent blogs that cover part of the same subject area: you can find some of my favourite ones listed in the right-hand panel. But in my opinion the broad questions that cosmology is concerned with — what is the Universe made of, how did it start, and how will it end? — are sufficiently interesting that the interwebs can handle another blog on the topic!

Different science bloggers approach the question of what level to pitch their offerings at differently. Although I will from time to time discuss relatively technical issues, and occasionally open research questions, in general I will address my posts to the educated layman rather than the expert. In most cases I will link in to other discussions on the 'blogosphere'; some of these may occasionally provide more details for those who are interested.

Of course, many of the best physics blogs do not restrict themselves merely to physics, and this one will not be any different! I enjoy writing in general, and constructing arguments in particular; one of the main motivations behind starting this blog was to provide an outlet for these urges. So on these pages you may also expect to find pieces on mountaineering and mountains, philosophical discussions of the point of universities and science education, arguments on economic and political issues, and general whimsical diversions. On some of these issues I am well aware I have no special expertise, and I will try to avoid the stereotype of the arrogant physicist talking of that which he does not know. But as friends and family will testify, a lack of knowledge of a subject does not usually prevent me from expressing an opinion on it, and it's probably not going to start now.

I reckon on putting something on here every week, perhaps more often while I have a backlog of things I have been meaning to write about.

Finally, before I end a somewhat over-long first post, a word of explanation about the title of the blog. In part it is intended as a description of what research is about: venturing where no-one has been before, pushing the boundaries and adding, by whatever tiny fraction, to the sum total of human knowledge. It is also the title of a famous book by Eric Shipton, one of the great mountaineers and explorers of the 20th century, an inspiring author and a teenage hero of mine — about whom I might write a little more in the future.

In a lighter vein, Blank On The Map also appealed to me as a reference to the Bellman's map in Lewis Carroll's wonderful The Hunting of the Snark -- a map the crew could all understand -- and to my current location here in Germany, which is rumoured not to exist. An obvious choice then!