This is what we did in our holidays. We went mountaineering, climbing, walking, lugeing and generally having fun. From the 19th of July to the 2nd of August 1997, you could find us in the Chamonix Mont-Blanc region of Haute Savoie, France.
The Team
Who's this "we"? well we are :-
How about some names then? In the first row, from left to right (in no particular order, although hang on, I've done all the typing so far, in which case in order of handsomeness, charm etc., but wait, no, Dudley's third from the left.....)
Second row
What about some routes then?
Yes we did do some. There was lots of snow last year, hence avalanche potential. This gave us hardened mountaineers two choices. Avoid the large snow slopes and do superb exposed snow ridges, with pitches of delicate traversing, balanced on the knife edge between France and infinity or sun bathing by the side of Chamonix swimming pool. Unfortunately the pool was closed ...........
A superb exposed snow ridge, just what we were looking for. Marred only by Dudley's usual "and after we've done the ridge we could continue to the Durier hut, then over the Dômes de Goutier, up Mont Blanc, finishing off with the Schmutt ridge on the Matterhorn, by way of the Aiguille Verte. Mind you we might need to take sandwiches." comment, which tends to belittle slightly, the intended route. Dudley has a great talent for making mole hills out of mountains. In fact, when he was in Asia ......... but that's another story.
Back to the plot. Far below lay the misty steaming environs of Dudley's Peugeot 205 (with 4 of us and climbing gear in) as we slogged up the equally misty and steaming forested valley side of Les Contamines Montjoie. First to the Tre la Tête hotel then up the glacier to the Conscrits refuge hut, without reservations. Actually Adrian had a few, not least being the name of the mountains, "the contaminated mountains of joy" who ever she is. We arrived six hours and 1600m of ascent later, with Sam and Brian setting the pace. How do they do that? They don't even eat pork pies. Dudley decided to carry on past the hut for a bit, his excuse being that he missed it in the mist, but we knew that he was just getting in some extra feet of ascent.
The
Conscrits hut, in fact the new Conscrits hut, was opened only a few weeks
before and is a veritable palace amongst huts, with electricity (solar powered),
flush toilets and beds. Unfortunately the guardien informed us in French
that they were full and with out reservations we would have to share the
floor with the Austrian Olympic snoring team, who were just getting in
some high altitude training. We had ordered evening meals, or so we thought,
but as more and more people were served and we were pushed further and
further to the edge of the room, we got more and more edgy. Several desperate
pleading conversations with the guardien along the lines of "Nous
mange ce soir s'il vous plaît" left Adrian regretting every
moments inattention in O level French. Eventually one of the waitresses
noticed our plight, took pity on us and served us an excellent meal. Mountaineering
tip number 1, always book the Conscrits Hut, this can be tricky as it seems
to be ex-directory. Despite this, the Hut is still beset with obscene callers,
arriving in person instead, and making very heavy breathing noises all
night.
After a nights repose we were fully refreshed (in the art of middle European sleep noises) and after a ridiculously quick breakfast we set out (at about 5.00 am) to walk further up the glacier (see photo of Sam and Brian trogging) to the start of the route proper. There were two breaks in the glacier trog. The first so Adrian could try ten pin bowling with a Sigg bottle and some French mountaineers (If anyone finds a Sigg bottle with red and yellow tape on it, its Adrian's. Unless you're big and burly and it's embedded in your helmet in which case he's never seen it before, honest guv'.) and the second so that Adrian could practice falling down a crevasse (something you'd think he would be fairly good at by now). The funny thing is Dudley, Sam, Brian and a host of other ascentionists had successfully crossed the snow bridge in question. Either they had loosened the snow or the semi-skimmed pork pie is a priority invention.
Then
the route proper. A truly magnificent snow ridge (graded PD), with some
great views of Mont Blanc from the South West. The photo shows Dudley more
on the French side of infinity, with the ridge stretching out behind him
and the Dome du Gouter directly behind that, on the sky line. The little dots in
the back ground are other mountaineers on the route. Sorry our disk space
doesn't permit better quality photos, but if you look carefully you can
just make out one with a Sigg bottle shaking his fist. We moved on swiftly
after a quick photo stop. We returned to the Conscrits hut, where the beer
is as cheap as lemonade (mind you the lemonade is bloody expensive) at
about midday, for refreshment before the long descent down to the valley.
A great route thoroughly recommended the only draw back being the long
walk in. But at least this gives the satisfaction (and blisters) of doing
a route all the way from the valley without using a téléphérique.
Well that's it so far. Watch this space for more adrenaline rushing photos, stories of other daring exploits, outrageous exaggerations etc. in, oh, microseconds from now.
If you would like to contact us, with offers of free expeditions to the Himalaya, sponsorship for our next trip (particularly welcome from the pork pie marketing board. Pork pies, real mountaineering food) or just to say "hello" or "I don't think so" then you can email a couple of the team. Also if you would like better copies of any of the photos then let us know:-
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