Rest day and more rain in Chamonix

But it's still better than being at work.

Oooh, our breakfasts have just arrived ... large bacon, lettuce and tomato baguettes! Better go!

(Dan, we've got great trip reports that we'll type up later. Promise!)

Tea in bed

It's easier when you sleep in the kitchen.

The Giant's Tooth

When we arrived at Aiguille du Midi on the cable car, it was pretty hard to miss Dent du Geant - the Giant's Tooth - across the Vallee Blanche.

(It's the pointy bit on the left.)

And as we walked across the glacier to its base, it just kept looking more and more impressive.

It's also meant to be quite a straight-forward route, well within our abilities - so it was something we were pretty keen to climb.

We camped on the plateau near the Refuge Torino, looking right up at the Dent. It took a bit of effort to eat something at this altitude - but a spectacular sunset and then the incredible number of stars overhead ... well, camping in the mountains is always pretty special.

What was concerning, however, was the sheer number of people coming back down from the Dent. Team after team, even as it got late and dark - they just kept coming. We know it's a moderate and good looking route, right near a chairlift, and it was Saturday, and the weather that day had been great - but still! We asked one party, and the problem was simply too many parties - all climbing over and around each other during the day, and then all getting stuck at the top and having to wait for each other to rappel off to get down. It did not sound appealing.

After an uneasy night, wide awake due to the altitude and listening to the wind pick up outside, we decided against the pre-dawn start. Once the sun was up, we could see the clouds racing over the Dent - and quite a large number of parties already on their way up the hill in spite of it. So we waited, and had a leisurely breakfast.

However, with the news that the wind would drop that afternoon, around 11:00am we decided to just go for it anyway. The crowds would be ahead of us, and we could always turn back if the wind, the cold or the dark got too much. It was a great decision.

Now that's a fixed rope!

The climb is in three parts:
- a long gentle slope up the glacier, that gets increasingly steep towards the rock;
- a "mixed" scramble, which really means loose rock covered in snow - just enough snow that crampons are required, but enough bare rock for continual "nails-on-blackboard" noises (this was Jen's least favourite section), and this leads to the Salle au Manger, the large rock platform where crampons and bags can be left; and
- a 180m rock climb with fixed ropes to the top - around an arete to a corner, then up the corner to a ledge, before the final slab head wall.

With an Italian party messing around with their ropes at the very top, and a German crew on our tail, we didn't spend too long admiring the view (and probably didn't quite make it to the true summit) before rappelling off, popping the crampons back on and heading back to the tent.

We were back to camp still with light to spare, about 7:00pm, feeling pretty happy that we'd decided to go for it.

The trouble with ropes and bright ideas

So we climbed a route called Guy-Anne, which was a fabulous moderate classic right near Envers des Aiguilles hut.  Theoretically we'll do a trip report about that ... one day.

Although the sun was still relatively high in the sky when we were at the top, we wanted to rappel off with a minimum of fuss and a maximum of speed and efficiency. We'd hoped to be able to walk back out to the train station at Montenvers, and head back down to the valley that evening. We didn't quite manage that.

We had the brilliant idea that the person left at the top would lower the rope out to the person rappelling down, in order to avoid the two 60m ropes becoming one massive cluster - something which seems to happen more often than not, particularly if you're in a hurry and don't properly coil the ropes before throwing them. Then, when the half way point was reached, the person at the top would throw the tails over the edge. Fast and no cluster - brilliant, right? This worked perfectly for two abseils.

However on the third abseil, as we definitely should have guessed would happen, the tails of the rope when thrown became tangled behind a massive boulder - this massive boulder being, of course, above Jenzing on rappel. Climbing up (and simultaneously sliding a prussic up for a self-belay), Jenzing worked out what had happened but couldn't actually do much about it as she couldn't climb high enough. The ropes were stuck behind this boulder, in a crack roughly the same width as the rope itself, in a number of interlocking loops and twists, and no amount of coaxing or pulling or pushing would get them out. She couldn't pull too hard or weight the rope in fear of the mess getting even worse (if that was possible), but she wasn't getting anywhere with it either!

Jen made herself "safe" on a handy nearby bolt to keep working on the massive cluster behind the boulder more comfortably, and Mark came down the rappel to try to pull the tails out from above. Slowly, slowly, first one loop came out, and then another and another, until the rest of the ropes were free. This whole debarcle took more than 20 minutes - a long enough time when you're thinking the only other solution is to cut the ropes.

Next time? Lowering the ropes like this was dangerous and stupid - far too much risk that the ropes would get caught and jammed above the abseiler. The lesson has been learned and we'll never do it again!

(On a side note, we completed the rest of the abseils the usual coil-and-throw method. Unluckily, the ropes then proceeded to get caught twice more as we pulled the rope down behind us, with the very end of it getting snagged around something about 20m above the belay. So someone would have to climb up and rescue it. There was now no way in hell we were making that train. It was not our day, really.)

Envers des Aiguilles

"Unsettled" and "chance of storm" means "don't stay in a tent" - well, for us anyway!

And this being the Alps, there is no shortage of refuges and huts where you can stay inside, warm and dry, whilst someone else cooks you dinner. There's usually a few games and packs of cards lying around to while away an evening, as well as maps and local guidebooks to suss out routes (if you haven't done so already). Oh, and a large number of other climbers to chat to, too! So it all sounds pretty good to us.

This is all budget dependant of course, as they're not cheap - if you ever wondered if the membership of your local alpine club was useful, here's your answer: affiliated clubs get you a fat discount.

But huts and their wardens differ dramatically. We've heard stories of places that charge E50 a night, and then even more for food. Of hut wardens being fired for not letting people sit and shelter from a storm in the main living area (well, not without buying something - apparently these ain't a community service!). And if the hut is anywhere near a popular, easy alpine ascent - be prepared to be woken up at 1:30am as everyone else in the room noisily gears up to start their uphill trudging.


However, Envers des Aiguilles gets the thumbs up from us. It's not just the chic Club Alpine Francais tableware, the helpful wardenesses and the aloof resident cat - it's the fact you can cook inside if you're staying there (a bargain for members at E11.50 a night without food).

And for us, we love it most of all due to the massive skillet of crispy skinned chicken - served when we came in cold and hungry, after having a bitch of a time with ropes getting jammed on rappel. Thanks girls!

Did you know ...?

That if the visibility is really bad, the cablecar from Aiguille du Midi to Pointe Helbronner is FREE?!

But considering the conditions, we just caught the elevator up to the top platform at the Midi station - and this was also free.

Shame we couldn't actually see anything!

Bivvy Mornings

So we'd got back to the tent very late the night before, after a very long day of climbing. We hadn't eaten dinner (a muesli bar is not a meal!), and we were out of water.

But we woke up here:

And all we had to do for the day was make tea, lie in the sun and eat bread and honey.

It's not a bad life, really.