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A messenger pigeon has been dispatched and should arrive at base camp presently. We will endevour to reply when weather permits.



Joined the team on a first name bassist. But Harry doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene, he's got a daytime job, he's doing alright!


Jack of all trades... equally at home bashing things as wielding his trusty axe. Leads from the front.



Completely off-piste... Ploughs his own furrow... Lost in uncharted territory and all the happier for it.


Enthusiastic amateur and eternal optimist... Itinerant noise maker, often found howling at the wind.



The young turk responsible for pressing all the right buttons. A key board member... tasked with keeping the old timers on track.

Route Map
Dead Sxophonist

Expedition Gallery

The 2017 Expedition

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Welcome to the weird and wonderful world of the DMC a plucky band of adventurous, if foolhardy souls whose corpses clutter up the rarefied atmosphere at the very edges of creative possibility. Brought together by their bloody-minded stubborn intention to leave their mark at the furthest extremities of impoverished musical potential in the “death zone” between the Avant-garde and Prog-rock. 

Expedition organiser Dr. Phil Mouldycliff must take some blame for leading this ultimately doomed party of widely varied talents to their final resting place. A man best known for leading from the rear, his role in this unwise venture has been to point the way and shout encouragement from the relative safety of the refreshment tent.

He has been ably assisted by logistics expert Colin Potter, the kit man, responsible for making sure the rest of the fellows are fully equipped for the task ahead and also on hand to record their exploits for all eternity.


The support team consists of two stout fellows some decades apart in age. The youthful exuberance of the expedition leader’s son Jackson Mouldycliff and the wily expertise of seasoned professional Harry Hardluck provide the backbone of the group’s heroic endeavours. Their unstinting consistency sets the rhythm and pace for the daily grind onwards and upwards.


The man tasked with responsibility for leading the summit party is the team psychologist Tim Greenwood, a man who should know better but who allows himself to be lured by the majesty of his surroundings and the incomparable camaraderie to be found on the ascent.


The final wild-card inclusion is a supremely talented if somewhat crazy Frenchman, Quentin Rollet, who seems to have been picked up on route and co-opted into the project without really realising what he was letting himself in for.


Finally an honourable mention should be made of the brave attempt by DMC’s artist in residence P.D. Gallagher to render a likeness of our gallant group at an altitude never before undertaken… we salute you sir!   


So there it is… a testimony to foolish pride and ill-considered aspirations contained herein for your scrutiny and delectation… enjoy!

Including extractions from There... Because by Dr Phil Mouldycliff



Reluctant svengali... blackmailed into creating some semblance of sanity from the 'bad craziness' that is Dead Mountaineers' Club

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