Great day, no happy ending: Fantomas - WI 4, 1500'

            Before I get into recounting the unhappy ending, I want to emphasize that Olivier and I had a totally kickass weekend from Saturday morning through about 3:30pm on Sunday. Low snow and cold temps for once made the decision not to ski easy, and we kicked off the weekend by taking his recently purchased and renovated Renault Traffic van up to la Grave with our sights set on climbing some ice. “La colère du ciel” (melodramatically named “anger of the sky”) turned out to be the ticket, providing six pitches of interesting but relatively comfortable climbing (photos 1 & 2). I will confess that I forgot my harness in the car and had to do a quick round trip, dashing through the village in my mountain boots as the locals smirked from their kitchen windows. All in all things went very smoothly though, and Olivier and my suspicions were confirmed that we made for a good rope team on ice as well as in the mountains. 

Warming up on a 900' grade 3/4 called 'La
Colère du Ciel' above la Grave.

          Saturday night we geared up for the weekend’s main event by fueling up on soup and pasta, watching a movie and generally lounging in the van. The camper van is definitely a winning strategy for making winter trailheads comfortable. On Sunday we were up and at it at 5am, heading for our objective: Fantomas, a 500m gully featuring nine pitches of climbing up to grade IV ice.  Unfortunately there was too little snow to do the approach on skis, and I discovered an hour into our hike that my rented snowshoes were missing a piece and broken. At this point Olivier saved the day by using a key ring to fix the binding in place, and we marched on. After three hours we found ourselves looking up at the initial ice pitches winding their way through an imposing rock face, looking fat and almost inviting. The next five hours involved thoroughly interesting climbing, made even more so by the low snow (some fixed anchors were actually inaccessible). The route felt like multiple Chouinard’s gully’s stacked one after the other, with some steps of steeper ice and mixed passages reminiscent of Multiplication Gully or Unexpected Pleasure. Needless to say I was in my element, feeling right at home at in the Adirondacks while perched in a full-on alpine setting. Olivier and I shared leads and generally had ourselves a time.

At the end of the 3-hour approach with the early crux of the gully in view.

Olivier tunneling up the 2nd pitch. 

Enjoying one of the best ice pitches on the route. 

At least I didn't break my ankle here - an awkward passage on pitch 8.

Olivier topping out the route around 1pm. 

           After the rappels and back at our packs, we found ourselves smugly congratulating one another and transitioning to the 6km walk back to the car.  Given the fragility of my snowshoes, and my aversion to keeping crampons on in a low snow cover talus field, I opted to descend in just my mountain boots. Olivier put his snowshoes back on and thus benefitted from some additional traction. After hearing a standard remark about how I couldn’t keep up, I decided I would show him by boot skiing right past him. I gave a quick “coup d’accéleration” and promptly found myself flat on my ass and sliding rapidly downhill on firm snow. I had a picture in my mind’s eye of rocks on the horizon, and after a couple of bounds I did everything I could to stop myself. Digging my heels in, I came to a rapid halt as my left ankle bit down on a rock. “F***!!” Thoughts quickly went to my parents’ arrival in less than two weeks, the ski season, and an unwanted helicopter ride. Olivier arrived rapidly saying he was relieved that I had stopped myself and hadn’t hit my head on any rocks, which was a fair point.  I knew however that in some form another I had just joined the messed up ankle club, and it was time to decide how we might get out of there.

            Olivier stated a preference for calling the helicopter, which was a pertinent suggestion given that darkness would arrive in an hour and we had about 4 miles and about 2500’ of vertical to cover. Despite some pain, I nonetheless felt alert and physically capable. Olivier’s offer to carry my pack, my ego and pride, and my belief that physically I could get out with Olivier’s help caused me to not call for rescue. At that point we also called Hillary, who fielded the call with grace and was positive and understanding of my urge to get back to the car by our own means. I immensely appreciated that Olivier was willing to support my decision, especially considering that the ensuing hours would be no picnic for him either.

And so it began, first sliding gingerly on my derrière and using gravity to make headway. Then the crux: the low-angle, trail-less, snow covered talus field at the bottom of the basin, which necessitated crawling on all fours and doing whatever I could to get by. After a couple hours we were back on the trail, and I was able to use poles as crutches to hobble down hill. I remember stopping at one point to have a drink of water and a snickers, and feeling as if my body were shutting down as the seconds ticked by – best to keep moving. After a few hours, I remember Olivier asking me a question about return strategy, whether or not he should go ahead to get the van and pick me up a bit higher than our starting point. I replied by saying, “I’m in the now,” totally unable to reflect about anything other than getting down that trail.  At last I saw headlights and soon found myself under a blanket in the front seat of the van, off my ankle and taking down multiple cans of Coke.

Hillary and Thibaut came to meet us at the emergency room in Grenoble, bearing homemade soup and Quick Burger fastfood.  After a couple rounds of X-rays, some magic pills, lots of waiting and nodding my head to an endless procession of care providers, Hillary accompanied me out of the ER just before 2am. It turns out she had started the Grenoble chapter of the messed up ankle club the previous week, badly spraining her ankle while charging down a staircase at work. And so there we were, both on crutches, hobbling out together as the receptionist asked, “Who is taking who home here?”

And to conclude, here are the facts: the medial malleolus on my left ankle has a clean fracture. I will get routine surgery tomorrow, after which I’m looking at 6-weeks in a cast and on crutches, followed by 6-weeks of taking it easy and PT. In the coming months I plan to log some serious time on the fingerboard and to get super top heavy, and expect that I will be sport climbing like a true Frenchman come spring (I have Jeff Banks to thank for that line). I don’t feel like there is any golden rule to be learned here, other than shit happens, one must always be careful and the adventure begins and ends at the car. I am doing my best not to over-analyze the sequence of events leading up the accident, as is my tendency. I will say that for the price of a stupid mistake things could be a whole lot worse. I feel very lucky to be with Hill and surrounded by good friends who care and are willing to go out of their way to help. I am the most sorry to my parents, who are coming out here next weekend and will have to deal with a gimp for the duration of their visit – restaurants here we come! As I enter the hazy hospital world, at least I am sure of one thing: I have no regrets about Sunday’s adventure, and that goes both for crawling on all fours through the snow and darkness and for feeling like the king of world shouting off belay, already looking ahead to the next pitch.

            

"We got a long way to go this evening, and if you don't like what you hear that's tough.
Here's an old song, called Blue Sky." - Greg Allman

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.