chere couloir

5:10am Friday morning: Mark and I were walking out of the Cosmiques hut at 3,500m altitude, in crampons, tied onto the rope for glacier crossing. I had lots of clothes on (I had no desire for hot-aches today) and the helmet torch was on full beam. I also felt a strong love for my fleece trousers.

The early start was partly driven by safety, to have a clear run at the Chere couloir route before the larger group attempting that route for the day got on it. Mark and I both had travel plans for the afternoon, out of Chamonix, so that was an added incentive to get cracking early and see how much we could achieve in the improving weather. The asssured gloats of the other group the previous evening of undoubtedly being first on the route in the morning were enough to motivate us to be fully focussed and well ahead in the battle of throwing down a morning breakfast and gearing up for the elements. I also later found out that the guide for the other group was Mark's assessor in the mountain guide training scheme, so there was plenty of pride on his side in beating them to the route. And up it, more importantly.

No fear on the latter: Mark set us off at a fearsome pace, remeniscent of the first climb of the week, which was an easier route on a different side of the same mountain. We crossed the glacier col in good time, and when we stopped to look back, after a fair climb up the gradually increasing angle of snow slope, we saw the lights of the group behind us plodding down from the hut. We had a good 20 minutes on them.

Soon we were into steeper snow and ice, first at a healthy pace, moving together and using the tips of the ice axes like daggers. Then, as it got steeper, we switched to taking turns to belay each other on pitched climbs as per normal rock climbing, which takes longer. We were on our first proper steep pitch of ice climbing before it was light, which turns out to be a great way to get over any fears you might have. If you can't see how far it is down or up, you just concentrate on what you are doing and what you can see with your headtorch. Thud, thud: ice axes in, quick tug to check the hold is good, then stepping up with the feet, kicking firm to make sure the front points of the crampons are biting. Thud, thud, step, step, step, step: easy!

First light of the pre-dawn, and I was climbing on vertical ice; trying to maintain good rhythm and balance and not get too burn't out in the arms or calves; trying to remain cool when taking out ice screws (they are supposed to save you if you fall, but I haven't tried falling onto one so far!), whilst hanging off an ice axe; trying to pace myself so I'm not exhausted after 10 moves at altitude. Actually, I felt good, and I really enjoyed the thud of the axe biting into the ice, and keeping good balance on my way up. The reward for this extreme exertion at such an early hour of the day, apart from the satisfaction of just getting up it, was a beautiful sunrise hitting the top of the Aiguille du Midi. Not long to savour it at this point though: photo, banana and water whilst belaying Mark, then take out the ice screw and go...

This was a more sustained difficult route than any I had done before (alpine grade D for difficile, as opposed to previous one's being AD; assez difficile), and the near-vertical ice went on for some time. After that, we neared the top of the couloir, and the terrain was less straightforward, with a fresh coating of powder snow covering the rocky outcrops. This proved more difficult than just ice axes and crampons on the steeper pure ice.

Mark pushed us hard, and with fast early progress made and little time wasted (i.e. no breaks to speak of), we were able to go for the top, rather than abseiling down the couloir as the other group did. The steep, deep fresh snow made it a bit of a slog to the top of the peak, coming out near the summit of Mont Blanc du Tacul. Phew, yet again I was breathing like a steam engine with the pace and continual effort of pushing hard at that altitude, but yet again, turning downhill did wonders for allowing the lungs to recover.

We came down the same serac and crevasse - laden snow field of Mont Blanc du Tacul as Monday. After fresh snow-falls in the previous couple of days, and a warm, sunny day beckoning, the risk of avalanche was high, and increasing as the sun rose during the morning. No time for sunbathing yet. Once past the crevasses and seracs, we were able to practise a classic mountaineering technique on the last part of the downhill, known as taking huge lunging steps down the soft powder snow. Happy days. Very happy days indeed actually, as it turned out the party who set off to the same couloir as us in the morning were just arriving back at the col at the same time as us, but had only climbed half the route that we had done. That was very satisfying not so much to beat the other team, but to know that we were a strong party capable of tackling hard routes quickly and effectively if needed.

Of course I knew from Monday's exertions that we still had to force ourselves back up to the Aiguille du Midi cable car station, 300m up the arete; plodding through the snow, with the last section on the steep knife-edge. After pushing really hard for the earlier peak, and 8 hours into a day of hard exercise, this always hurts, and I was soon sucking in all the air I could, and just concentrating on keeping on plodding at a steady pace. Whilst I probably had a grimace showing at the time, there was also a bit of a satisfied smile underneath, as I was nearing completion of a great day's adventure in the mountains, and a suitable climax to a couple of weeks of mountaineering.

Thanks to Mark for an amazing week's alpine climbing. 1st August 2012 then for the Matterhorn?!

Icy couloirs, icy hands

I arrived back in the UK over the weekend, my mountain climbing adventures over for the season. Before I get too bogged down in the humdrum of daily life, I owe all you avid readers (and random passers by) another blog or two, to bring the alpine adventure series to a close.

As you probably gathered from my previous entry, activities were slightly disrupted last week due to snow storms passing through the Alps. Hence I had the fortunate introduction to such moderate and relaxing alternative sports as fell running, which I took a certain liking to.

My plan had been to make an attempt on the Matterhorn during the week, but such a serious and dangerous undertaking as the Matterhorn is only possible to normal folk who aren't exceptional climbers or guides during reasonably fair conditions. With the lower part of the route up the mountain being on often loose and delicate boulders, trying to climb when the ground is covered by snow that may be icy in the morning and slippery and wet in the afternoon, is a much more serious proposition than normal. Last time my guide did it in winter conditions, his was the only party on the mountain and it took him 2 days, and that's someone who climbs like a snow-leopard (much faster than a mountain goat, Mike!). So with snow falling during the week, and autumnal weather setting in, the Matterhorn was not going to happen in the week.

It is obviously a shame I couldn't climb the mountain I had set out to climb when I started my trip, but I have climbed some technically harder routes than that during the two weeks, and learn't lots of skills, and done far more than just plod up steep hills following a guide without thinking. I have certainly learnt to respect the mountains and maximise safety and enjoyment by paying close attention to the conditions and choosing routes that are suitable and minimise the risks on that particular day.

Mark did an excellent job of making the most of less than ideal weather last week, and after the fell running and a bit of scrambling on Tues and Weds, we finished off the week with some great mountaineering of the steep, icy and hard variety.

Thursday was not a big day out in terms of route, and the weather was still proving a little troutblesome, so we were keen to do a sheltered icy couloir route within easy striking distance of the Cosmiques but. The hot-aches experience halfway up though, turned it into more of and adventure than I had anticipated.

Often north face couloirs are in the shade most of the day, and with your hands touching cold ice and very cold powder snow, and getting showered with snow and ice as you battle your way up with ice axes etc, its amazing how cold this can make your hands. Even worse, when you start climbing, you have your hands mostly above your head, so there is not much blood going to them. A top tip: always lower your hands and shake out when you get a rest opportunity!). So abseiling in from the sunny Cosmique Arete, where we had climbed the previous week, I felt warm and toasty, but 15 minutes later, climbing up the first pitch of the couloir, my hands were starting to get a bit numb. If I was thinking clearer, I would have stopped and got my thick down gloves out of my rucksack, but this is easier said than done when you are on steep snow and ice 2,800 slippery metres above Chamonix, and you have to think about how solid is the footing that the two front points of your crampons are digging into. Maybe you can't even see how good the ice or rock is, because it is covered by snow, so you are going by feel sometimes. I decided to push on to the next belay ledge, and sort it out there. Except my hands didn't really agree with this decision, and by the time I had reached the ledge (a foot-width of scraped-away ice), they were in shut-down mode. Fortunately Mark knew the feelings that come when the blood rushes back to your hands: light-headed, dizziness, tiredness, burning pain in the hands of course, to be hot-aches. Something I had never heard of, but which I have no desire to encounter again. Mark got me secure and sat down on this extensive ledge, otherwise I felt close to fainting. A nice bit of chocolate and some water and a rest though, and I quickly perked up to near-normal levels, and was once again hacking my way up the ice and snow and delicating edging the crampons and ice axes over rocky sections, up to the top of the arete, and back to warmth; the Cosmiques hut.

That was enough adventure for one day, and I made a special effort to eat as much of my extra food portions as possible in the evening, partly for post-drama comforting, and because I just love the french saucisson, but mostly to lighten the load for the big route lined up for Friday.

cosmic

Just a quick interim msg from the mountains to the blogosphere. Matterhorn is off for this trip after snow in the alps. From tues we have been working round the weather, including a fell run with 740m of ascent, phew, still suffering a bit from that! some scrambling in the aig. rouges yesterday and a couloir climb today. Note to self, always put the big down gloves on before the hot aches from cold hands starts. Oh yes, and we broke trail on the knife edge midi arete in fresh snow - full on! Ahh the cosmiques hut is cosy after all that!

Mont Blanc du Tacul

Today I was back on the mountain, after a relaxing weekend in Chamonix. The weather forecast is not good for this week, with the expectation that rain and snow will move in across the Alps this evening and tomorrow. So today was a one day alpine climb near Chamonix.

The weather doesn't bode particularly well for my Matterhorn ambitions, but I have hired the guide for most of the week, and we are trying to make the most of it, so if the Matterhorn gets covered in snow or the storms don't lift, we may have to make do with other plans for the rest of my time here. With things moving on at home, now that I have a new flat to live in (I am very excited about having a wardrobe with all my clothes in it, quite a change from nomadic transcience!) and new uncle duties to perform (big congratulations to Mike and Kate), I can't hang around in the mountains forever. Between this week and last, I am certainly getting the most out of it though.

Today was my first with the new guide, Mark, and to be sure to beat the incoming weather, instead of doing a lesser route in the mountains, we went for the option of just going faster on a similar length route to last week! This was fine from the top of the Aiguille du Midi cable car down to the glacier col below, along the precipitous arete that is a snowy knife-edge about a foot and a half wide (with Chamonix 2,800m below if you fall off to the left!). However, once down and across the col, Mark was almost racing up the slope in front of me, and we were first up climbing the steep ice of the contamine-grisolle route of the north face of Mont Blanc du Tacul. This was a true cardio work out, even compared to running, and it seems like all the good mountain guides are also mountain runners or adventure racers, which certainly adds the stamina needed for mountaineering.

So yes, I was panting along up behind on the first part, which was steep ice, catching my breath and resting burning calf muscles every time there was a step dug out in the otherwise smooth ice slope. After a 100-150 metres ascent or so, daggering the blades of our ice axes into the 60 degree slope, we moved onto mixed ground. Basically, rocks, surrounded or covered by ice. We charged on through this, crampons scratching on the rocks when not biting into the ice, and came out before I had caught my breath at the top of the rock triangle that goes most of the way up Mont Blanc du Tacul. A quick drink, a bite of chocolate (actually a whole bar)and a banana, and we were underway again; a final plod in the snow to the top of Mont Blanc du Tacul, 4,248m. Another 4,000m peak climbed: this time well ahead of the guidebook time!

Strangely, as soon as you turn round and start heading down the hill, all the lung bursting feelings dissappear, and I was able to savour the wonderful views out down the glacier over the Chamonix valley and the other peaks in the range, which, any higher than where we went, were buried in sinister looking clouds. Guides 1, weather 0! We followed the easier route in the snow down the side of the mountain back to the col, following the at-times deep trough cut by those slogging up Mont Blanc on a daily basis. No prizes for guessing that Mont Blanc du Tacul is quite near Mont Blanc and is on one of the routes up the mountain. Back to the col, and a large packet of crisps which had found their way into my rucksack helped me back up the arete to the cable car station: always a nasty slog at the end of a day on the mountain. Four and a half hours after we left, we were back in the hands of modern machinery, whisking us away from nature's ravages, back down to the valley below. All in a morning's work...

dent du geant

Today is a chill out day in sunny Chamonix, after a week spent up at high altitude, in the beautiful yet surreal world of alpinism.

On Tuesday, our small team of Al the guide, Simon and myself took the cable car from the valley floor up to the Aiguilles du Midi at 3,800m, then another one across some glaciers and between some of the famous peaks of the area to the Italian side of the Mont Blanc Massif. After a good hike across a glacier, we did a scramble along a rocky ridge, before lowering ourselves into a crevasse in the glacier and climbing out again. Certainly as close as I ever hope to get to falling into one. Tuesday night was spent in the Torino Hut, at over 3,000m, and despite a beer to wash down dinner, it proved hard to sleep well at that altitude. Wednesday began with a typical alpine start for a bigger route, as we were aiming to complete a 4,000m classic apline climb, the Dent du Geant, that day. My early morning mood has not historically been the best, but somehow we were in crampons and roped up, walking across the glacier with headtorches, in good spirits, by 5.15am.

By the time first light came, we had plodded up the snow slope, and being up close to the base of the peak, couldn't really see the full extent of the rocky spire we were to climb. First up was a steep scramble over loose rock, scree and snow. Part of the reason for an early start was to get up and down before this big messy pile became loose and dangerous in the afternoon. One thing I have definitely learnt this week is to have respect for the mountains and the dangers they bring, and to plan cautiously accordingly. Arriving at the base of the spire, it became immediately apparent that yes, we were going to climb this steep rocky spire several hundred metres high, at 4,000m altitude, in heavy mountain boots, and then do 3 long abseils back down to the base. Each time it got narrower, you thought you were at the top, but Al kept saying, nope, a few more rock climbing pitches to go! Despite some fairly windy moments, and false summits, the top was actually remarkably calm, and the abseils back down smooth and enjoyable. I had a real sense of achievement, and it was an excellent warm-up for what I hope next week brings.

No rest for the wicked though, as Al was keeping us on a tight rein, literally and metaphorically. After getting down the messy loose rock slope as quickly as possible and minimising danger, especially from any careless groups above us (strange how its often other people that are a bigger risk than anything else on the mountain!), we had a quick bite to eat and then a slog back across the snow covered glacier to the cable car back to Chamonix. None of us were keen to miss the last one down, but Al had other things on his mind too, as he was off for an evening training run!!

Ahh, just when you think you have reached a good level of fitness and skill, you meet someone like that who is on a completely different level, and pleasantly modest with it. Enormous respect to Al for winning the OMM mountain marathon amongst other things and setting a new route up 6,100m Jirishanca in Peru. Little did I know that when I ordered my excellent lightweight rucksack online a year or two ago, it was designed with technical input from Al and named after the route he first climbed a few years before. Thanks Al, great course, and a pleasure to learn from someone at the top of his game.

My multimedia exploits and seamless technology transfer streaming efforts (or something like that) have been less productive than my mountaineering this week. I still haven't found an internet cafe which can properly deal with my camera memory card, and my video exploits have fared even worse. Day 2 of alpinism, and after special preparation of my helmet cam, to get it off my bike and secured firmly to my helmet, disaster struck. I was worried that the camera mount might come off the helmet, so I put lots of the special velcro-type tape on the helmet several days before and let the glue dry thoroughly, as per instructions. Then I put my headtorch on the helmet and threaded the mount through the strap as well. However the camera itself seemed to sit very firmly in the mount. Or at least I thought. Halfway along a rocky ridge on the second day of alpinism; I was getting a bit flustered with all the ropework and squeezing between rocky spires etc. Somehow I pulled the rope or something over my head, then heard the worrying sound of an object being dropped, and I saw something small and black bouncing off rocks down a long, long rocky slope towards the Aosta valley. A bit of duck tape to hold it on would have made all the difference, but too late; my video exploits came to a frustrating and irretrievable end on the Aiguilles d'Entreves.

RIP tachyon xc; we were just beginning to get on so well. I hope someday, someone scrambling in the messy scree and boulders several hundred metres below this ridge on the Italian side, with a long drop of several thousand metres below them all the way down to the Aosta valley, puts their hand on something unusual and unexpected in a dark hollow; something metal, forged long ago. Or perhaps it will find them...

Still, I will get the photos out there at some point apart from the couple I hope to upload with this blog, and meanwhile don't forget that the experience is more important than the image, so I hope you are enjoying the read. Enough blogging, I need to contemplate and prepare for bigger adventures in the week to come.

'The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began,
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many path and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.'

JRR Tolkein (Bilbo Baggins)