Hillary & Brad Climbing Bender Summer 2013

Earlier this month, Hillary and I spent a solid two weeks getting after it together, which we were able to do despite the recent loss of our beloved Chipie (1999 Renault Clio). Our adventures took the form of two distinct chapters: first, we borrowed Olivier's car, who was on-call for the fire department and thus rolling in a pompier whip, and headed to our favorite valley/parking lot in the world, Ailefroide; second, after a steamy interlude in 100° downtown Grenoble, we then wrangled a bus and three trains to get to Chamonix-Mont-Blanc to kick off five days in a similarly limitless playground. Both chapters had the shared goal of ticking off as many of Gaston Rébuffat's 100 Plus Belles Courses as possible (3 in the Ecrins, 1 in Mont Blanc)...

Chapter 1: Ailefroide, Ecrins

CAR CAMPING AND CRAGGING i.e. living the dream

Hillary pulls through pitch 4 of Caramba, TD 250m, within walking
distance of the camp ground.

HIKE UP TO THE REFUGE DU PELVOUX (2700m)

                                                                                        Joubarbe alpin - Sempervivum alpinum

ARETES DE SIALOUZE TRAVERSE (D, 3576m) 

Our ridgeling on the left, looking humble next to the bulk of the Pic Sans Nom. Upon completion of the Sialouze ridge traverse, Rébuffat encourages  readers to casually continue to the summit of the Sans Nom, in order to spend a complete and well-balanced day in the mountains (book time is 10 hours just to do Sialouze - Gaston, you're crazy!!).

Contrary to popular opinion, there is good rock in the Ecrins!

PELVOUX TRAVERSE (PD+, 3946m)

Scoping Pelvoux from Sialouze, showing our route the next day
 up the Couloir Coolidge on the right. Would be sweet
come back with skis... 

View of the Pelvoux from the Lac Tuckett.
We descended the glacier on the left. 

On top and happy at 6:30am.

Beginning the LONG descent down the glacier des Violettes (2600m drop + route finding...)

Chapter 2: Chamonix, Massif du Mont Blanc 

AIGUILLE DE LA REPUBLIQUE VOIE NORMALE (D, 3305m)

A quick note on public transport mountaineering: it is possible, but don't be fooled by the 'montagne sans voiture' propaganda -- it's super hard! First off, you need time (weekend warriors are out) and willingness to deal with sup-optimal conditions, especially in town (big packs at the bar at the end of the day + carrying 5-days worth of stuff at all times because there is nowhere to stash anything). All of this is possible however thanks to a thorough public transit system and above all, huts (we only had to carry lunch food and a silk liner for overnight gear).

 The République spire poking above the Mer de Glace. Clouds conveniently hide
much of the taller neighboring peak, the Aiguille de Charmoz (3445m). 

      The last pitch is now an A0 bolt ladder, but it is worth noting that the first ascent was accomplished in 1904 using a cross bow and sketchy counter balancing tactics. 

        

Summit = 3' wide!!

 LEFT: the bergschrund that we had to navigate at 4am... the best way turned out be skittering up the unprotected slab on the right-hand side.
RIGHT: View of the business out back behind the hut. The configuration is generally a half hour of walking followed by up to 2500' of steep granite.


HEADY PHOTOS FROM THE ENVERS DES AIGUILLES TERASSE by Hillary

 ROI DE SIAM - 'Le Lifting du Roi' or 'The King's Face Lift' (D+, 3600m)

We wisely wimped out at the last minute and opted to climb the King of Thailand instead of the highly-coveted Grand Capucin. Our route, done in a day from the Aiguille du Midi, I think is best described as 'perfect granite pleasure-boating' in an outrageous setting. Although some of the pitches were among the best I've climbed, to put things in perspective I think playing mini-golf up on the Col du Midi would still feel pretty epic.

Early morning light on the S ridge of the Aiguille du Midi.

The Original Czech King of Beers.

Sending Heavy in Chamonix with Olivier: Grandes Jorasses Traverse

Olivier and I have been scheming about a week of climbing together for about a year, and stoke levels were very high going into our trip. We kicked things off with the Arête Forbes on the Aiguille du Chardonnet, and managed to smoke the book time with a 6-hour round trip. After a rainy day of reading topos and drinking espresso, we decided that it would be a good idea to embark on an ambitious traverse from the Dent du Géant straight on through to the Grandes Jorasses.

Our plan was to do an open bivy the first night at the beginning of the Arête Rochefort, sleep at the unstaffed hut at the Col des Jorasses the second, sleep on the summit of the Walker our third night, and then bang out the long descent first thing in the morning on the fourth day. All of this we did, but not without major struggle. In part due to lots of lingering snow, Day 2 was longer and more stressful than we anticipated, and Day 3 was probably the most demanding day I've ever spent in the mountains. As the sun set and the route was far from over, we both acknowledged that perhaps this time we'd bitten off a bit too much. Even if we were slow, I will say that we succeeded in taking the time to make things as a safe as possible and also in keeping spirits high. We were all positive energy, swopping leads and sharing the difficulties 100%, and I couldn't have asked for a more solid climbing partner up there.

Day 1: sunset cruise up the Dent du Géant (4013m).

The massive fixed rope draped over perfect, protectable rock was a bit weird -- given that we started
climbing at 5pm I didn't hesitate at times to haul away in the name of making quick headway. 

The latest in a growing collection of religious undertone mountain shots on our blog... the Virgin Mary presides from the summit of the Dent du Géant over the ridge that would occupy us for the next two days: Arête de Rochefort in the foreground, followed by the Grandes Jorasses and Point Walker at the far end.  

Olivier psyched on the last rays of sunshine at our first bivy. 

Day 2: Starting a long day of standing on big cornices and hoping for the best... beautiful and terrifying all at once. 

Steep snow on the way to the summit of the Dome de Rochefort (4015m).  

 First guests of the season at the mythical Canzio Bivouac at the Col des Jorasses (3825m).

On the way to the summit of Point Young, the first of seven 4000m peaks on the Jorasses ridge.  Later on
we missed a right-hand turn off the ridge and ended up embarking on a 4-hour detour... fait chier!!

Lots of lingering snow explained why we were alone on route, and also slowed everything way down. 

Endless tricky arête wrangling...

Soup break at 10pm, after 14 hours of non-stop climbing. We kept at it until 2am, when finally we arrived at the end of the difficulties at the col between Points Whymper and Walker. I will never forget the surreal feeling of being gripped on a knife edge snow ridge at 1am and hearing the sound of base and partying wafting up from Courmayeur...

After three hours of rest, dawn at the bivy looking southeast into Italy.

Taking it to the summit of the Walker on the morning of Day 4.

Looking back on our tracks from the night before, with the Aiguille du Midi in the background. 

Seven hours down the regular route of the Grandes Jorasses and back to Courmayeur. 

Just another weekend for Olivier, bien sûr!!

Getting stuffed on the Aiguille Verte – Chamonix

In a rare break in the clouds when I got up to pee, I took this photo of our planned route (the Couturier
Couloir, right down the middle) and got so excited it took me about an hour to fall back asleep.  

Inspired by Hillary's up front account of not winning her race back in May, here is the tale of my failure  in the mountains this past weekend. Still, she made the podium and we didn't even begin our route, so maybe I'm pushing the comparison. The main message is that often for every post about a cool summit there are two or three wiffs that don't get mentioned, and that here in Alps we can't always get what we want...

As is the case for most climbers around here, the Verte has loomed large in my imagination for a couple years now. Every route on this 4000m giant, which presides over the Drus and catches one’s eye as soon as you enter the valley, is both beautiful and difficult. The descent is notoriously tricky: either you are on top at dawn and rally down the south-facing Whymper Couloir before the heat, or you embark on a 6-8 hour mission down the Arête du Moine.  Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved to have succeed on the first try this past weekend, but it was not to be…

Rui hiking past the terminus of the upper tier of the Argentière Glacier. Until 2003
the now exposed rock remained covered in ice. 

Above: A burst of color in an otherw-
ise stark landscape -- Primula hirsuta

Left: Arriving at the refuge d'Argent-
ière with glaciated big daddy's
in every direction. 

Due to the early-summer closure of the Grands Montets tram, on Saturday my friend Rui and I hiked for five and half hours instead of an hour and a half, beginning at the beginning all the way down in the valley floor. Getting to the refuge d’Argentière on foot nonetheless had its own appeal, and was certainly cheaper than a standard Chamonix weekend. We spent the early evening on the porch of the hut watching an alpine strip tease take place as the grand north faces of the Courtes and Droites revealed bits and pieces before receding back into the clouds. These very same clouds had us both worried as we called it a night at the rowdy hour of 8pm, and sure enough when we were up and at it at 1am the following morning the snow was only superficially frozen. Hoping for a better refreeze up higher, we persevered to the bergschrund and the beginning of the route at 3200m, only to find that the snow still wasn’t locked up. We were starting to gear up and weigh our options when a (fortunately) small slough of unconsolidated snow arrived about a meter from where we were standing. The very thought of how hosed we would be if anything bigger came headed our way was enough to spur immediate descent. So there we were, at 3:30am, diligently picking our way back down the crevassed glacier and heading back to the barn.

In the end we were out for just over seven hours, and especially descending the brutally direct ski trails at the end made it feel like we had spent a pretty full day in the mountains. Although it would have been a huge joy to get up the route and summit, at the end of the day (8am) most of what I look for in a weekend in the mountains had been fulfilled: good companionship, getting schooled and humbled by something more than me, a physical spanking, exploration of new and spectacular terrain and, perhaps the combination of these things, adventure. Les beaux jours arrivent and I already can't wait for round 2...