Retour de la cordée Brad & Hillary: Roche de la Muzelle (3464m), les Ecrins

Regular readers of this blog I'm sure have noticed by now a consistent trend over the past several months: obscure, glaciated 3000m peaks in les Ecrins. Sure bets include long approaches,  rock that is difficult to protect and often loose, loss of pitons and slings on descents, "locals only" route-finding, and long days out far from the alpin' crowds swarming elsewhere. This latest chapter recounts Hillary and my first climb together since the dark days of mid-winter. 

Hill and I scrambled out of Grenoble at 4:30 on Friday afternoon and found ourselves an hour later in Bourg d'Arud at the beginning of the Véneon valley. Residents peered out their windows with skepticism as we began the 4-hour (book time), +1200m hike up to the Lac de la Muzelle at the tardy hour of 6:30pm. Hill set a relentless pace as usual, and I soon found myself redlined trying to keep up, charging up switchbacks in just boxers and mountain boots. 

One upside to beginning at 900m is the opportunity to see all stages (or "floors") of the mountain environment. We began in the "étage montagnard" which features old stone foundations and mixed beech and fir forest, followed by the "étage subalpin," a mosaic of pine, alder, juniper and grasses frequently ravaged by landslides and avalanches, and finally emerged at the beginning of the "étage alpin" at around the 2000m mark. Here the tree line is suppressed by grazing in the summer, making for   a smooth carpet of alpine sedge that eventually transitions to talus and névé around 2400m. Our destination was the Refuge de la Muzelle, perched on a lake at 2115m.

Our stay at the hut was cut short by the alarm sounding at 3:30 am. I think this moment - rallying for an alpine start after a long week - is the consistent crux of weekend warriordom. There is just no way your body is going to support the decision to get up and go at this juncture. Things started to make sense at sunrise, when the snow and clouds became lit with soft light. The clear night had made for a solid refreeze, which allowed us to march across the hanging glacier leaving only the faint tracks of our crampons. I love the feeling up there of being at the right place at the right time, even if the early-morning rendez vous is not easy to make. Especially during the summer season and without skis, it is essential to play by the rules and be on the glacier when the snow bridges are "locked up" and the mountain is at its safest. 

Hill deserves huge credit for rallying for a day that ended up being a lot harder than planned. After climbing a couloir up the north face, we embarked on a descent down the regular route of the northeast ridge. The combination of down-climbing, improvised anchors and exploratory rappels made for a heady brew of adventure and uncertainty. We both felt the stress and I was ready for Hillary to throw a well-justified tantrum, but instead she stayed positive and patiently kept piecing it together. Four hours after leaving the summit, it felt really good to touch down on the glacier and be back in "one foot in front of the other" terrain. Most of all it was awesome to be back in the mountains with Hill, and I'm so grateful that we're able to keep sharing time up there. 

Hillary taking her single mountain axe higher and steeper than called for in the catalog. 

Sporting our faux Mammut puffies that Jean Mi acquired during his most recent trip to Nepal.

We are ready to accept sponsorship.

Note the choice slung horn lower left.