After a week’s training in Switzerland on the Jagged Globe Alpine Introduction Course of July 2008 it was time to jump in the bus and head to Chamonix. Five of us (including me) had made our way over the border from Arolla and we were joined by one from Zermatt (a fellow Welshman and ex paratrooper). The training and acclimatisation had gone well and apart from a pain in right foot I felt ready for Mont Blanc.
We dropped our kit in our chalet and ventured into Chamonix for a day of leisure and sightseeing. It was here that I caught my first glimpse of Mont Blanc. The weather was pretty darn hot so we all sat under an umbrella in a street café promptly stuffed our faces to build up some energy stores of the climb. Next a visit to, quite frankly to best outdoor shop ever! Snell Sports. After an hour of looking at all the shiny new toys I decided to be reserved and treated myself to a new elasticated nut key an a map of the Mont Blanc massif.
After a relaxed breakfast the following morning we grabbed our packs and boarded the mini bus and headed off to Les Houches and the Bellevue cable car station where we meet our guides. It was amusing listening to my guide trying to pronounce my name, so we settled on a new name for me, ‘Dave’, which I kind of regretted by the end of the trip (I’ll explain a little later). After the meet and greet and weather report (which was giving us a great weather window) we jumped on the cable car to the tramway du Mont-Blanc train that slows rides up to the Nid d’Aigle at 2373m. Fun fact: The tramway was supposed to go all the way to the Goûter hut but work was suspended in 1914 because of World War 1 and was never resumed.
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| Ibex below the Refuge de la Tête Rouse |
It is from here we began our ascent up the trail to the Refuge de la Tête Rouse which took us about 2 ½ hours. We were also lucky enough to see a few alpine Ibex on our ascent.The last section of the walk to the Tête Rouse is a short hop across a glacier which presented no difficulty and didn’t require the use of any crampons or ropes.
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| Glacier before the Refuge de la Tête Rouse |
I had been told that the Tête Rouse hut was an excellent place to base ourselves. The hut itself looked in good condition and the inside spaces were just as good. After de-booting we went to have a good explore and find a pit in which to sleep for a few hours. The sleeping areas were relatively spacious, if not a little smelly, and were already filling up as climbers poured in to take advantage of the good weather. It was truly an international room, I heard English, French, Spanish, Russian, Chinese or Japanese and one or two I couldn’t guess at!
We knew it was going to be an early start so we had a bite to eat, packed our kit and bedded down. Sleeping is difficult in huts. People in, people out, people sorting kit, people snoring, people discussing routes, people breaking wind… But eventually, worn out from excitement you manage to drop off and get a few hours.
Waking in the darkness of the earlier hours we got dressed by head torch and headed into the communal area to meet our guides. After a little nibble on some breakfast we booted up, put the torches on and got ready to go. The night was mostly clear and we could see the head torches of the others groups on the mountain heading up the Grand Couloir, our first challenge. We sorted ourselves into our teams, two climbers to a guide, and began the walk up the previous day’s glacier to the crossing point of the Grand Couloir. Before crossing we put on our crampons and helmets and then listened for the sounds of falling rocks and shouts, thankfully we heard none and we passed through uneventfully. In the early hours of the morning we were told that the risk of rock fall was low as the ice should be pretty solid but still, if there had been some, the potential for being screwed is pretty high… kind of like darting through the road in the dead of night dodging cars without their headlights on!
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| The Grand Couloir |
From here the real climbing started, scrambling upward 600m toward the Goûter hut. This section of the climb was undoubtedly the highlight for me. There was almost no snow or ice on this section of the route and we made good progress moving steadily in the dark. It had taken us about two hours to complete the scramble and reach the Goûter hut, and we quickly entered and took a short break and rehydrated. The original Goûter hut in all its glory was, shall we say, a little less impressive that the Tête Rouse. Cramped, dingy and stinky would be my description. In fact, at the top of the scramble I didn’t realise how close we were until the aroma of urine graced my nostrils. Thankfully we only stayed for about 20 minutes. Putting on a warmer jacket and some salopettes we roped back up and headed out into the night to continue.
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| Sunrise over Mont Blanc |
The climb felt difficult initially out from the Goûter but began to ease a little after about 15 minutes. We had joined the rest of the traffic winding up the mountain, only the lights of the head torches visible in the darkness. The pace wasn’t too quick, moving at the same pace for the next 90 minutes until we stopped near the top of the Dôme du Goûter to take on water and watch as the sky filled with brilliant shades of orange and red as the day began to break over the Mont Blanc massif.
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| Sunrise from the Dome du Gouter |
As the orange’s and red’s turned to clear pale blue skies my attention focused back on the route ahead. Being honest I was already beginning to tire a little. My legs were appreciating the rest and I could feel that the pain between my toes on my right foot, although not too bad, was getting a little worse. After re-lacing my boots we set back off, descending initially then ascending again up toward the Vallot refuge at 4362m. The weather by now was crystal clear and temperature relatively warm so we avoided the refuge (it was pretty damn busy) and opted for a short break in the snow to drink some more fluids and enjoy and half-frozen Mars bar. Ummmm… The break at this point was graciously received. Our guide had been keeping a fairly consistent pace so far but my little legs were feeling the strain. I didn’t once consider turning around on the ascent but there was a niggling worry in the back of my mind that the rest of the climb could be the death of me!
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| The Vallot refuge |
Batteries recharged somewhat we began the ascent toward the Les Bosses ridge. Initially a gentle climb it turned into a more fierce undertaking as it started to steepen. It is from here on the route really begun to pound at me. The pace we had set for the first part of the route seemed to carry over and on the steeper terrain I felt the heart rate rise to keep the pace. To make things worse the pain in my foot had gone from a slight inconvenience to an agonising burn coupled with fits of sharp agonising stabs. In one respect the pain did begin to help me along. Forgetting my legs were tired and lungs gasping I had to focus on my foot placements to avoid upsetting my foot further. I kind of withdrew into my own world for a while. My primary view became the brilliantly white snow at my feet. The routine was basic for a while; foot placement, flick rope, foot placement, flick rope and so on for about 45 minutes. It took away from the experience for a while but if I hadn’t had done this I’m not sure I could have stood the pain. The pace thankfully had relented and we slowly continued upward. Glancing occasionally to enjoy the beauty of where were, cursing all of the false summits that we crested.
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| Looking back from the Les Bosses Ridge |
After a while we found ourselves on the main summit ridge. Along in a little pain I had done well not to ask for any breaks so far in the climb but it was here I raised my hand like a shy school boy and asked for a few minutes to rest my foot. The guide looked at me quizzically but eventually agreed to a 2 minute stop. It was the best 2 minutes EVER!! Dropping to one knee I made fists with my toes and drank. For the last 2 hours I had pretty much been head down but it was here I got a good look at how far we had come, and I knew there wasn’t far to go. Following the break we set off for the last time toward the summit. The terrain had eased now and we had a mostly gentle climb mixed with the shortest of steeper steeps.
Although aching I pressed on surprised that even now I still hadn’t had really suffered from the altitude. My lungs clear and my heart rate back to normal I was enjoying the climb again. It had been hard, harder than any other climb that I had done so far but soon the hard work would pay off and I could sit and enjoy the view from the best seat in Western Europe. Then at a few minutes after 7 am it was done, seeing the path ahead begin to descend, we reached the summit.
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| Lots of false horizons to get our hopes up... |
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| Me on the summit of Mont Blanc, 4808m |
It felt like quite the accomplishment as I stood on the summit. Three groups had left the TêteRouse, separated by about 15 minute intervals and one by one each group had arrived. We had left second and arrived second, 10 minutes behind the first group. We shook hands and exchanged stories about our push for the top. We stood and enjoyed the 360 degree views of the snowy peaks of the Mont Blanc massif laid out before us. Each of savoured the beauty of what I consider to be without doubts one of the most special moments of my life so far. We remained on the summit until the last group had arrived and shortly after began the return down the mountain.
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| View from the summit |
The second half of the climb from the Dôme du Goûter had been difficult to say the least. Tired legs and an aggravated foot had taken much of my reserve but it was only now sinking in that we were only at the half way point. I was unsure how I would hold up on the descent comforted myself with the knowledge that it couldn’t be as bad… ha!
I became over confident as we started our descent. I was the tailing end of the rope on the climb so lead the descent, guided occasionally by our guide from the rear. My legs had seemed to completely recover for now and the foot was holding up nicely to we kept a pleasant paceretracing our steps down the ridge. Toward the Vallot refuge we took a direct line, down the mountain, weaving through the other climber’s still zig zaging their way to the top. The cushioning effect on my foot gave the impression of walking on fluffy clouds and I managed to keep a smile on my face all the way to the Goûter hut. It was easy to forget the still dangerous nature of the climb as we descended, laughing and joking away until a climber in the last group, turning to talk to someone behind him caught his crampon in the snow and proceeded to forward somersault and land square in the top of his head. By some miracle the climber had kept his helmet on which took the brunt of the impact as he collapsed into a pile of limbs in the snow. Initially worried he regained himself quickly and we all regained our focus as we avoided a few crevasses and covered the last few kilometre of so to the hut.
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| Descending the summit ridge |
On reaching the hut we were all pooped, coming back in the daylight it was surprising how far we had gone the night before. We all chose not to eat at the hut and opted for a quick break and then to descend straight down to the Tête Rouse. It was however this section of the return journey that would wipe my cheesy grin off of my face…
Descending down to the Tête Rouse was agonising! It was still a glorious day on the rock was grippy but the constant change in angle of my foot on the rock caused it to scream. Every step felt like someone was driving a nail trough the bottom of my foot. I’d like to think a put a brave face on it and didn’t show too much pain but my God! I said earlier that the guide could not pronounce my name and had opted to call me Dave, this only added to my annoyance… Left Dave, right Dave, slow Dave, Stop Dave… AAAHHHHHHH!! It wasn’t his fault at all but I do remember quite vividly now thinking of various ways to insert ice axes into the human body. You get the idea? Still we continued downward listening for the inevitable shouts from above warning of rock fall in the Grand Couloir (which is regular at his time in the day as the temperature rises). At the crossing point of the Couloir we waited our turn. The rock fall was quite heavy and groups were timing their crossings well to avoid the risk of getting hit. We managed to get across a few minutes later, watching and listening and were forced to run the last few metres as we could hear screams relaying their way down the mountain. From here it was easy going and before we knew it we were back on the glacier and then sitting down outside the Tête Rouse. We sat waiting for the last group and in the end decided to spent a second night at the hut instead of forcing the last group to have to run down to the cable car. All over the moon we rested in the hut, enjoying the most expensive can of lager I’ve bought (what do you expect when it’s delivered by helicopter). We rested in the night satisfied we had all fulfilled our goals and were rewarded with the most spectacular of lightning storms in the evening, flashing the night sky with brilliant explosions of violet and blue (it is amazing how quickly the weather can change).
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| The walk off toward Nid d' Aigle |
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| Taking a pit stop |
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| The Route |
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