La Montagne des Agneaux (3664m) with Ian Hough – Ecrins Range

            This past weekend Ian Hough and I headed to the Ecrins for his first high-mountain trip since arriving in Grenoble seven months ago. The Ecrins get me fired up, and I was nervous about biting off too much too soon for our first outing together. We did our best to begin at the beginning by spending an afternoon on the Meije glacier working on avalanche and crevasse rescue skills, and also on skiing through heavy snow with a heavy pack. Ian’s quick mind sorted out snow anchor construction and 5 to 1 hauling systems in no time, and I soon felt comfortable with the idea of tying in on a glacier together.

            Plan A involved heading out from the mythical Ailefroide trailhead and skiing up the Glacier Noir to the Pic Coolidge. We figured that if the access road was closed there would be snow for us to ski on, and if there was no snow then the road would be open. As we found out post 5am wakeup, the asphalt on the access road was bone dry and the gate securely locked. Just as we were deciding what to do, a local drove up, coolly unlocked the padlock and drove on through. For a second we thought we had hit the jackpot, only to see him stop the car and stroll back to lock the gate – sorry boys, locals only.

            Rather than trudge up 10km of pavement, we decided to reroute our plan for the weekend – “if you’re gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough” is a phrase I tend to live by, but in this case forcing it just seemed too stupid. So we laid out the map on the hood of the Chipie and weighed our options.

            I noticed a valley called the Vallon du Grand Tabuc, running from a village named Monetier-les-Bains and providing what looked like relatively rapid access to the Montagne des Agneaux. In 2006, Christophe and I got turned around on les Agneaux while trying to ski it from the NW side, and the idea of another attempt six years later appealed to me. In the trusty, sandbagged “Easy Alpinism in les Ecrins” guidebook, Ian and I found that we could access the regular route of les Agneaux by way of this Vallon du Grand Tabuc. Following the ski approach, the route description mentioned some steep snow early on followed by 2c rock (you know, your standard pitch of 5.3d), all wrapped up in the modest grade of Peu Difficile (truc de PD bien évidemment…). This plan would enable most of our initial objectives, minus the 20km round trip on pavement: snow camping in a spectacular setting, skiing up a glacier, and getting on top of big summit in les Ecrins. Despite the extra driving and delayed start, we were both psyched and committed to the new plan.

          After navigating the complex array of ski lifts, chalet complexes and faux parking lots, we found what had to be the trailhead and began suiting up. Ian was struck by the bizarreness of putting on goretex pants, harnesses, heavy packs and ski boots in a sunny field surrounded by families going about their weekend stroll through the village. And he’s right, it’s a weird sport. The contrast between the demands of the high mountain world a few kilometers away and the serenity of the valley floor below is difficult to overstate, and the low trailheads and general lack of tram access in les Ecrins force  you to travel from one world to the next by putting one foot in front of the other.

       
           The skin up to our bivy site was just right. Sunny but not too hot, efficient but not too steep, and above all not so far that we felt we had to rush. Arriving in the middle of the afternoon left us with plenty of time to play sandbox and build a righteous tent platform, not to mention eat dinner and crawl into sleeping bags at the rowdy hour of 7pm. After much discussion of time estimates we could only guess at, we decided to set the alarm for 2:45am.

            Alpine starts are a trial even when you know more or less what’s coming. Ian was remarkably patient with the tedious process of melting snow for breakfast, reluctantly leaving and then packing your sleeping bag and the tent, and then figuring out which trinkets you need for the day ahead and which you don’t, all by the harsh light of a headlamp. I find that the stress and discomfort of an alpine start make the actual motion of forward progress up the mountain seem all the more simple and peaceful.  Finally, you’ve got just what’s in your pack, the logistics are over, and it’s time to play ball.

            The first few hundred meters of moving up the glacier went quickly and easily. Just as dawn began to emerge on the horizon, we began skiing up the 40-45° headwall that I’m sure both of us were thinking about the night before in the tent. Thankfully, the snow stayed soft and allowed for a secure skin track that took the path of least resistance between bits of exposed rock and serac. When we reached the glacial plateau at 3000m, the early morning sun brilliantly lit up our surroundings and reminded us that we were now in the inner sanctum of les Ecrins.

            I thoroughly enjoyed track-setting across a fresh canvas of such beautiful slopes, and for both us I think those couple hours of winding up the glacier were among the most beautiful of the trip. Just before 9am we found ourselves at the base of the Col Tuckett and the start of the summit ridge. We had decided on an 11am turnaround time, so it seemed like the right move to carry on.

The first pitch involved surprisingly steep snow and a scrappy cornice exit in order to then straddle the col. As I belayed Ian up, I was fully ready (although of course I would have been bummed) for him to say, “you know what, I don’t need to do this” and to lower him right back down to our skis. He moved with style and ease though and even seemed to be enjoying himself, and so we played on. The 2c slab in ski boots and crampons was a good dose of hero climbing, which was then followed by an airy but straightforward ridge romp to the summit. 11:02am, and we were hanging out on the summit, slurping GU and oggling the glaciated burl around us. Both of us felt a little light headed from thirst and altitude, but overall we were in pretty good shape. I was amazed that Ian had the strength and calm to get up there on his first climb up high.

Down-climbing mixed rock and snow with big fall consequences is a particular medium that recreaters in the Northeast rarely encounter. Cragging back home, one generally climbs up and then rappels or walks down through the woods, and the practice of spidering down the same way one went up is rarely part of the program (then again, the climbing is usually wicked hard).  I was a bit worried about how this part of the game might go. I had left gear and anchors for the last stretch of the ridge, and so Ian was able to clip the rope through these points as I did my best to provide a minimum of assurance from a slip or misstep from above. Once again, and to his credit, Ian was solid and took the time he needed to be secure on his feet. Once we arrived safely at the top of ye olde 5.3d crux, we decided to sling a prominent horn and descend from there. I lowered Ian a full rope length and was able to beam him to the security of the snow slopes below. I then rapped half of that distance and did a bit of extra down-climbing to join him and our skis.

I love skiing!!! It is the coolest and the most efficient. In just a couple hours, we schussed our way down about 7,000 feet of mountain, stopping midway to recover our bivy gear before gliding all the way to the car and the world we had left only the day before. Olivier would be pleased to know that our first move upon returning to the Chipie was to start pounding Coca Cola – beer would have been delicious but also completely incapacitating.

            I’m curious to see how this adventure sits with Ian. It was a big first dose, and a pretty impressive achievement for somebody’s first rodeo. I was hesitant to pose the question in the dehydrated and bonked aftermath of our day – “so, do you want to do more of this?” I hope he does, because I thoroughly enjoyed his company up there and am psyched by the prospect of future adventures together.

Ian on the home stretch of the summit ridge with the Glacier des Violettes of the Mont Pelvoux in the background.