Celebrating the end of Rocktober

Thibaut and Christophe working their way up "Du 5 à Tire-Larigot" on the Tête de la Maye, la Bérarde. 

With that jacket and handlebar mustache, Ian is ready to climb rock into December...

Col Est du Pelvoux (3609m) -- Couloir Nord

After a couple of monumental failures (see the post from June this past summer), my friend Rui and I finally completed a high mountain route together. We were looking for a glaciated objective, accessible in a day and without a téléphérique... the Glacier Noir in the Ecrins naturally fit the bill. I mentioned to Rui that the route would involve more hiking than a typical Chamonix objective, especially on the descent, but I don't think Rui quite understood what I meant until we were looking down from our high point at larch forest 6000' below, no cable cars for miles... 

I'm psyched that we were dumb and tough enough to persevere and succeed on this route, for a couple of reasons. First, we rolled into the parking lot Friday night at 10pm, and then set alarms for 2am to kick off our 15-hour day. So the hagard factor was definitely high. Second, we had hoped that the half meter of snow fall last week would have padded things out and made the route less bony than typical autumn conditions (most parties climb or even ski the route in May or June). It turns out the new snow did not stick to the 50-60° glare ice, so we ended up doing close to 700 vertical meters of front pointing. My calves have never before gotten so rocked, and I can only describe the experience in the final couloir as being downright painful. That said, the full moon AM approach, interesting climbing down low on steeper ice sections, the satisfaction of emerging out of a cold, dark north face into sunshine and gentle snow slopes, not to mention the beautiful fall light filtering everything we saw, made it all worthwhile. 

There are at least a half dozen other of Rébuffat's 100 Plus Belles itineraries in the sector, and I am already looking forward to going back with better conditions and stronger legs...

Rui heading up to our couloir exit on the left. We did our best not to linger below the lovely seracs on the right... 

The route in spring conditions - April, 2012. 

Fall conditions! 

Moments of nice "sorbet" ice.

Calf explosion!!

Sorry for the clumsy iPhoto adjustments. Still, you get the
idea that we were a good ways up there... 

View of the Aiguille de Sialouze (3576m), which Hill and I traversed in July.

Signs of life and a long descent down the south side.  

L'Olan 3564m

Still too intimidated to try to recap a month-long trip to the US in August, I bring you, instead, a few photos from an adventure last weekend in the Ecrins.

One week after the infamous French 'rentrée', when all French people return to their regular lives after at least a month of vacation, and still manage to have plenty to complain about, Brad and I also found it difficult to leave the summer behind.  After a careful study of the weather forecast (at least 5 times a day from several different sources) we deduced that, in order to pursue our extended goal of climbing Les 100 Plus Belles Courses in the Ecrins, we'd have to consolidate our weekend outing into Friday night and Saturday--when it would start raining in the valley and snowing on the peaks. We made it out of Grenoble just before the rush hour traffic, arriving in Valgaudemar, a beautiful valley with which I was previously unacquainted, around 6pm.  After a week of 6-7 hour nights, we had to dig deep into the energy recesses to find the motivation for the 1200m climb up to our bivouac near the refuge.  Digging still deeper, we set our alarms for a 4am wake up, and settled into our bivy sacs with a bright moon illuminating the towering south face of the Olan behind us, and sheep bells echoing across the unlikely perched plateau.

Four o'clock came quickly, and in the chill of the early morning, I struggled with the idea of getting out of my sleeping bag.  However, the cold was short-lived problem, and we quickly warmed up as we made our way up talus and scree, stepped onto the glacier and traversed our way to the base of the Voie Escarra--the regular route up the peak. Looking at the Olan from below, it is hard to believe that there could possibly be a reasonable way to get up it--but following the topo instructions and advice from the hut guardian, we efficiently made our way up the initial step of climbing, across an improbable and walkable ledge in the middle of the face, and then up a leaning couloir to the notch where the real fun began.  Never difficult, the arête leading from the Breche Escarra to the summit of the Olan is airy to say the least.  The quality of the rock is excellent, and were it a few meters off the ground, it would be a piece of cake.  But perched on a narrow ridge with precipitous drops on each side, the traverse was pretty mind-blowing. Once on the summit, we set up a rappel to take us back to the lower part of the ridge, and sunned ourselves while taking in the incredible surroundings. 

On the descent (which followed the same itinerary as the climb), Brad and I enjoyed one of our most efficient downclimbs--which was a big step for the unsure-footed me.
Back down at our bivouac, we refilled on calories and liquid, and were tempted to, rather than make our way back down to the valley, do like the "alpinist" sheep (so described by the hut guardian) who spend several months a year, wandering the alpine landscape in search of green (some with significantly more success than others--see below).

for those climbers wanting to see routes....

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!!