Brad's climbing bender continues... 

In an attempt to soften the sadness of Gus' departure, these past two weeks I've indulged in a fairly nonstop slew of adventures. The bender began with Olivier at the Refuge d'Envers des Aiguilles above the Mer de Glace in Chamonix. Two initial days of waiting out the rain and snow and playing Uno first to win fifty games only enhanced the joy of later on being able to climb hundreds of feet of sunny granite above a glacier, all within a twenty-minute walk from the hut. Despite the constant buzz of helicopters and airplanes on a sunny day, the crowds of overly earnest alpinists getting in line at the base of this or that classic, and the Jackson Hole-esque who's the bigger bro scene, Chamonix has the goods for sure and I can't wait to go back.  

 

The following week it was great to reconnect with Engué to climb "le fou qui repeint son plafond" ("the crazy person repainting the ceiling") at Presles, in the Vercors. The route name seems pretty apt to me given our desperation to climb on a rainy day. This was my first sustained aid climbing experience, and I guess I'll say that I was psyched to climb in that setting but am happy to reserve the wack and dangle for rare occasions. 

Last weekend Hillary and I were able to get out together into the Belledonne for a relaxed, fun day of climbing. Hillary lead the stouter pitches on an 8-pitch bolted 5.10a to the top of the Pointe N du Lac Robert , on a rock buttress to the right of a couloir Buke and I skied together in January. We both agreed that this is a climb we should have done while Gus was out here... just enough spice to be an adventure, but also abundant time for casual strolling and lakeside lounging. 

Engué and I met up yet again for a trip up the Northwest pillar of the Obiou, the highest peak in the Devoluy massif to the south of Grenoble. I've heard Jean-Mi (former landlord and all round awesome dude) speak with reverence of the Obiou for years and I think I get it now. The terrain feels like somewhere between alps and prealps, between the moon and the Dolomites, between a mountain rich with climbing history and a mountain that feels so wild it's hard to imagine the passage of anyone prior.  The spectacular setting compensated (mostly) for the fairly heinous rock quality and the dubious pitons still hanging in there from the first ascent in 1970. Our route roughly followed the shadowed ridge for 500m of climbing right to the top.

Earlier this week I met up with Christophe for two days in the Vanoise mountains, situated between here and Chamonix. Our attempt to climb one of the bigger peaks in the area was stuffed by driving rain and under fifty-foot visibility, but we were nonetheless able to thoroughly enjoy a moderate ridge scramble on the Aiguille de la Vanoise as well as some Ibex spectating.

p.s. Hillary just finished work and school is definitely out!!!