Summit Fever

Alpine rock climbing was something I was really excited about. Australia has some decent sized cliffs, but the Mont Blanc massif of the French alps has 800 meter granite climbs at high altitude above spectacular glaciers. I somehow talked Julie into going there.

Chamonix was a bit of a blur. We had to get oriented, find accommodation (overpriced) and buy a lot of gear. We rented ice axes and crampons, a bought a book called "how to cross glaciers" which I skimmed through over dinner by way of preparation. Pretty straightforward really; stay roped together, and if someone falls down a crevasse, try not to fall down after them. If you manage to stop their fall, somehow build an ice anchor and a three way pulley system to haul them out. The same as rock rescue really, except on ice. 

Our first goal was the Envers refuge, a small alpine hut perched above the Mer de Glace glacier below some incredible granite spires. We like to make an epic out of every trip we take, so we filled our bags with way too much food and equipment until we could barely carry them before taking the Montenvers alpine train to the highest point we could, roping up and setting out across the glacier.

Eleven hours later we finally saw the hut. I think our climbing ability and experience were more than sufficient for the alpine climbing we were preparing to attempt, but our fitness and speed were not. Two months of eating daily three course 'menu du jour' french meals, together with incredibly heavy packs, meant we set a record as the slowest approach to the Envers refuge in the history of Alpinism, and we could barely put one food in front of the other by the time we were climbing the iron ladders that guard the last few hundred meters to the hut. Evelyn the hut guardian/cook wasn't happy to be preparing our dinner at 10pm, and didn't stop frowning at us for three days. 

The climbing above the hut was absolutely stunning. Huge snow tipped granite towers surrounded by glaciers, split by long hand cracks perfect for lacing with gear. After our unnecessarily epic walk in, we spent a morning recovering before doing our first route, 'Magic of the Orient', a 500 Meter pair of towers above the Blantyre glacier. Being our first alpine climb we had a couple of teething problems. How do we keep the ropes dry belaying off the ice? How do we stop the packs from skating off down the ice slope while we climb? How do we get onto the rock when the glacier is separated from the rock by a bottomless crevasse? We figured it all out eventually and had a beautiful afternoon climbing in the sun..

Julie high above the Mer de Glace on 'Magic of the Orient'

The next day we attempted a route called ‘Guy-Anne’, a series of cracks that trace a path up the Pont de Nantillions, the sharp looking spires high above the Hut. The crux of the route is a perfect diagonal hand width crack which is a grade less than the previous pitch at 6a+ but feels incredibly hard after 60 meters of sustained hand jamming. We battled through it, but leading all pitches in succession was taking its toll on me, and again we were moving too slowly to finish before dark, so we retreated late in the day. We didn’t get another shot at it, as the weather closed in the next day and we were forced to hike back down to Chamonix. 

Celebrating that I survived the cracks of Guy Anne

After a couple of rest days hanging out in arty cafes by the canals in Annecy, we forgot about the suffering involved in Alpine climbing and made a dash back to the alps when the weather cleared, this time on the Italian side, for a shot at a route on the ‘Petit Capucin’, a peak on the flanks of Mont Blanc itself beside the incredible looking ‘Grand Capucin’. Unfortunately this meant spending a night or two in the ugly prison like Torino refuge, a concrete bunker that passes for a Refugio. It is one of the highest refuges in the Alps and a necessary staging point for people attempting to summit Mont Blanc or many of Valle Blanche routes. It’s dirty, cold and uncomfortable, and when we were trekking across the glacier in the Valle Blanche before sunrise the next day, I envied the group that had pitched tents out on the ice, surrounded only by the magnificent peaks.

Our route, ‘Lifting the King’, is a 10 pitch 400 meter 5c route, with some nice climbing in an absolutely breathtaking setting. Behind, the summit of Mont Blanc is clearly visible. To the right, the sheer face of the Grand Capucin looks intimidating, but is tempting at only 6a+ if you’re willing to pull out the etriers. In the distance, the ‘Giants Tooth’ cuts through the clouds. 

Julie in the Valle Blanche. Our goal is the middle of the three peaks on the left of the photo

When we arrived at the base of the route, a pair of Italians were just starting out. We were dismayed, thinking climbing up below them would slow us enough to miss out on the summit, but they couldn’t figure out the opening sequence of moves up a steep crack, and left defeated. With the peak to ourselves, we climbed more quickly, with each pitch falling in good time. Belaying, I could see another pair of climbers across the valley on another route, a tough looking, steep, parallel crack that wouldn’t look out of place at India Creek, Utah, if it wasn’t for all the snow and ice. Next time.

Julie on 'Lifting the King', high above the Valle Blanche

The climbing was technical in places, with thin slabs, steep corners occasional cracks. For most of the morning the sun was shining, but in the afternoon cloud started to form and a bitter cold wind built up until it was almost unbearable.  (Julie – liar! the wind started on pitch 3).  Belaying and rope handling became difficult with stiff shaking hands, and Julie was struggling to communicate as her jaw locked up from the cold. We were still four pitches from the summit, and the crux pitch is the final steep headwall to the peak. Then we still had to get down, 10 long abseils and a two hour+ trek across the glacier to the refuge, probably in the dark. I’m sure Julie would have bailed if she didn’t have to face my disappointed expressions, but we kept climbing.  Reaching the top of the route in the late afternoon, we snapped two photos, glanced at the view, and headed down as fast as we could, blue from wind chill. It was a nice route in one of the most beautiful places I’ve been, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to talk Julie into alpine routes again. With a flight to Africa in a week, I was looking forward to some hot, dry desert climbing.

Cold and tired on the top of Lifting the King