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)