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.