Touching The Cheese - Roger Daley
Day 1 Saturday
"Roger", Dave called out... symbolically we had chosen to meet beneath
the statue of Balmat and Saussure in Chamonix to mark the start of
our alpine adventures. Dave was in the bar opposite... but I guess it
was close enough. I had spent the previous week with Annie, walking
up glaciers, hiking to huts and such like; all very pleasant, nothing
to onerous, however I sensed things were to change as Dave bounced up
and down with his usual enthusiasm.
Day 2 Sunday
Seeing Annie off from the train station, I joked that I'd happily
swap places... oh how we laughed! Her train departed and Dave and I
wandered into town for coffee, moments later the heavens opened; and
the contents of Lake Geneva cascaded onto the main street. Huddled
under a cafe umbrella serious plans were being hatched; another
croissant or shopping for gear.
By 4pm the rain had stopped and we broke camp from les Praz with the
idea of walking up the Mer de Glace as far as possible by nightfall.
Having stowed surplus gear under a rock, we wounded are through the
forest to reach Montenvers by early evening, then tottered down the
ladders to the glacier. Light was fading as we crunched up the ice
looking for a suitable pitch, it started to rain... too icy... too lumpy...
too likely to rock fall... Finding a good spot was proving
difficult. Eventually somewhere safe and flat'ish; the tent was soon
up and tea was cooking.
A cold night... oh yes... but at least we had good sleeping bags... well
at least Dave did... obviously my sub-conscious had decided that I'd
be far too warm and it was best to leave my bag under the rock in the
valley!
Day 3 Monday
A beautiful day... we continued up to Refuge du Requin. The objective
was to climb some of the classics on the Dent du Requin;
unfortunately we were to be disappointed, as on arrival the Guardian
advised us that recent days the routes had received a treacherous
covering of snow. Nevertheless we set-up camp, cooked a meal and
returned to the hut for beer and free prunes!
On the basis that Dave (at least) was too young to die, our original
plan was shelved. Instead we decided to walk up to the Cosmiques
Refuge, then the following day complete the Midi Plan Traverse,
dropping down the Glacier d'Envers du Plan to recover the tent on the
way back to Chamonix... at least that was the plan.
Day 4 Tuesday
Blessed with perfect weather we weaved are way through the Seracs du
Geant, past the Petit and Gros Rognon's and on towards the Refuge des
Cosmiques. The heat and altitude was taking its toll (on me at least)
and we took frequent rests... but at least it allowed us to enjoy the
magnificent views. Overall this was a splendid journey through some
impressive scenery, made all the more pleasant by a night in a 'warm'
hut.
Day 5 Wednesday
The Midi Plan Traverse - starting early we out on our own; but it was
not long before we were jockeying for belays with numerous French
Guides as they swarmed over the slopes with clients in tow. The route
took us up and down snow ridges, with some good mixed scrambling and
an excellent panorama; although only graded PD it seemed harder in
the heat and deteriorating snow conditions.
Our descent point was reached... however the Glacier d'Envers du Plan
resembled a large bowl of melting ice cream. The Guides was advising
against its descent; so with mixed feelings we had to retraced our
steps back to Aiguille Du Midi for 6.00pm. The last cable car was
scheduled for 5.30pm; but the exceptional number of tourists that day
(4,500, that's around £120,000 in receipts) meant it kept operating
till 7 pm.
Once down in the valley we now had no accommodation, nor change of
clothes. Fortunately we spotted an adverted for the Red Mountain
Lodge; an exclusive ski lodge in winter, which was just kept ticking
over in summer; and at 16E for B&B it was a bargain.
Day 5 Thursday
Chamonix... well I had a tough day - washing clothes, drinking coffee
and lounging around watching the Lodge's massive TV... oh and Dave...
well he ran up and down to Requin Hut in a howling gale to collect
our gear! He returned at 11 pm.
Day 6 Friday
Rained: A well deserved rest day... all that washing certainly took its
toll!
Day 7 Saturday
Morning: We set up camp at Les Molliasses; a site towards the tunnel
end of Chamonix.
Afternoon: Climbing at Gaillands... a stark contrast to the mountains...
and surely climbing at its worst... bolted, soulless and very busy;
but at least it was hot and made for a good rest day.
Day 8 Sunday
'Papillion's (West) Ridge'... what's that about a flap of butterfly's
wings creating chaos eleswhere! A few lessons were handed out here...
for a start; multiply the guidebook lengths route by 3... this was
described as 400 metre climb... err what about the other 800 metres?
The route lived up to its classic status; scrambling, easy climbing,
through to aided pitches. Most of the route had been completed when
the weather took a turn for the worst... rain and gusty wind on an
exposed ridge. "Lets get out of here"... we reversed the previous three
pitches to an escape gully; three abseils and progress was being made...
but the cloud was closing in and light was fading fast.
Scrambling down a steep, grassy, broken slope and we found some
abseil tat. It was now dark. The ropes were set and thrown; and off
Dave disappeared into the night. 20-30 minutes pass. "Dave are you
OK... Dave?"... the rope was still tight... perhaps too tight... Mmmm...
where's my knife... thoughts of a book... a film... fame... money...
dancing girls!
The rope twitched... and continued to do so for next 45 minutes; Dave
was coming back up! A head-torch appeared. Then a cry... a light arcing
down... down into darkness. Oh my God!! He's fallen off... and that Brie
in his rucksack was just coming ripe!
'Touching The Cheese'... perfect... it's what Dave would have wanted.
"DAVE! DAVE!!"... the rope starting twitching again... the torch had
been knocked from his head. Dave exhausted clambered back to the
belay. He couldn't reach the ground; the ropes had to be retrieved...
they jammed!... we couldn't see a damn thing... it was 11.30pm.
'Is someone trying to tell us something?'
Decision time... right or wrong... we chose to bivi. Sure it was going to
be cold, but the rain had stopped, we had food and in the morning
we'd be able to see what we were doing. A rocky trough gave some a
shelter; we munched on cheese, bread and chocolate and made ourselves
as comfortable as possible. However, this was to be longest 6 hours
that I care to forget. It started to rain... then snow... err... this
wasn't in the plan... Shiver... I looked at my watch still 5 hours till
daybreak... Shiver... where are those dancing girls now!
Day 9 Monday
6:30am... "we need to move or we're going to be snowballs" Dave
announced to a small green plant he'd been talking to most of the
night... or was it my imagination. What 6 hours ago had been dry rock
was now covered with two inches of snow. Slowly we slithered down to
the abseil point, set the ropes and with benefit of light, took two
further abseils to safety below. Of course the afternoon was glorious
and the remainder of the day was spent drinking beer and dozing
outside the tent.
Day 10 Tuesday
Rest day... the weather was poor anyway
"I know it's wrong... but I must Luge" Dave announced to the world...
as long as this did not involve a marmot and a large quantity of
olive oil then I was very happy for him. The Luge being that hideous
1,820m toboggan running along side the Montenvers mountain railway.
Despite my initial scepticism this was great fun, my only regret
being that I was unable to shoulder an excessively heavy pack all
day.
Day 11 Wednesday
A lousy morning... rain and low cloud led to a late start... catching
the cablecar back to the Aiguille De Midi for three further days in
the Vallee Blanche.
It was late afternoon and we were the last party to start the
'Cosmiques Arête'... well at least we have it to ourselves. What an
excellent route and what a beautiful sunset... I thought... Mmmm...
perhaps we shouldn't be here at sunset! Enviously I spied campers
below enjoying their evening meal. Looking back to Dave... he was
struggling with the aided pitch... we were losing the light and by the
time I'd followed through it was dark.
Two options; a chimney or an open corner with a funky traverse.
Neither of us fancied the chimney so it was left to Dave to do the
corner; even with head torches this was proving tricky.
Eventually, lights from the De Midi windows and a ladder leading to
the viewing platform; it was midnight. Two weeks earlier I'd been
here with Annie basking in the sun; it now seemed a lifetime ago.
A heavy metal door barred access to the Aiguille De Midi station; it
appeared to be locked... sure enough it would not budge... push, pull,
and some 'gentle' encouragement with ice axes... but to no avail... was
this to be another cold night? The Door and Dave continued their
battle and the Door was winning. Then the door handle came off... "err
I don't think that's suppose to happen!". The handle was screwed back
on... the door swung open and a gust of hot air enveloped us. Down the
stairs and there was our accommodation... the toilets... nice... but at
least they were warm.
Day 12 Thursday
7.00am we were the first party out of the station, straight into the
sunrise and down to the Vallee Blanche... truly awesome. That morning
we completed a pleasant snowy scramble leading to the Refuge des
Cosmiques to enjoy bowls of hot chocolate. Then in the afternoon we
completed a traverse of Pnte Lachenal... a good snowy route with a
couple of unnerving pitches on crumbly rock.
That night we camped in the Vallee Blanche... toasting a spectacular
sunset and our success / survival to date with a fine 2 litre bottle
of wine and plum pie.
Day 13 Friday
The Gros Rognon... this resembles a huge wedge of cheese; and is the
central station for the cable car from the Aiguille Du Midi to
Helbronner. It is a restricted area with no right of access for
tourists; but a number of routes are recorded in the guidebook.
A rather loose start on the West face improved as we gained height,
developing into a good snow slope and then a ridge to the cable car
station. We now had to get across the cable car gap... timing was
critical... look left, then right, then left again... I clambered
across to the other side... at this point a guard started shouting at
Dave to stop. Being roped together and with an impending cable car
bearing down on him prevented compliance with his request! A now
rather agitated guard was shouting, "you must not be here" and "we do
not sell tickets". Dave attempted to explain that we were climbers,
not day-trippers who had inadvertently disembarked from a cable car...
meanwhile the guard was phoning for reinforcements.
Visions of ending the holiday in a police cell flashed before me.
Fortunately his associate was more chilled... "very few climbers come
up here" he explained... "British... ah yes that would explain it... we
could continue". Dave and I pointed down the steep, chossey snow
slope we intended to descend. They looked at one another, and then to
us... nothing needed to be said.
They remained with Dave whilst I down climbed the first pitch...
obviously he deserved companionship during these final moments.
Eventually back down to safety and a race back to Aiguille Du Midi to
catch the last car down.
Day 14 Saturday
Our last day and we decided to finish on a classic bit of rock... with
an easy up and down day using the cable car.
'Sub Arête' above the Index lift... another excellent route, the
description of which had been written under the influence of a
powerful hallucinogenic. Dave and myself, completed pitch after pitch
of outstanding climbing. Topping out at 6 pm (the cable car stopped
at 4.30pm) would allow us to enjoy another long walk back. Ah well
not to worry... According to the guide it was only 45 minutes back to
the main path... another lie... at least 1.45 hours.
It took a further 2.45 hours through the forest and back to Chamonix
for beers, and possibly the scariest bit of our whole trip...
staggering into town around 11pm... an Umpa band playing a rendition
of 'Y.M.C.A'... men in leather shorts and feathered hats on
trombones... only now have I been able to come to terms with this.
Day 15 Sunday
Returned to UK; Roger plus beard, Dave less surgical gloves!
Roger Daley
September 2006
Beginner's Bolting - Roger Dyke
So there we were, met up outside the long-since-closed Whaley Bridge
Cafe, deciding where to go.
It was overcast, and the forecast was for rain arriving from the
west. I looked at the heap of Peak guide books spread in the back of
the estate: "With this forecast we really ought to go east, like
Birchen."
"It's already after 10; too late to go that far."
"Look, here's 'Horseshoe to Harpur HilI'. I bought it 2 years ago
and it's never been used: let's go to Harpur Hill and try bolted
routes."
"Have you ever been on bolts?"
"No, but we'll work it out."
"OK., if you can find the place."
So, after a swift tour of Harpur Hill Industrial Estate and a trog
along an over-grown track, there we were drinking coffee in front of
a derelict quarry face that didn't fit anything in the book and even
with my glasses on didn't seem to have any bolts.
"Let's go back a bit, and then get round the other side of this lot."
Ha! Now we have better rock, and there are bolts, and Midge even
gets the rock to fit a picture. Harder than you might think, because
a ton or two that was on the wall in the photo is now on the ground.
But now we're rolling? except for 4 things:
- All the routes look too hard for us.
- The first bolts are way above the ground.
- It is cold, windy and desolate.
- In the dull light, the rock looks uninviting.
No wonder we had the whole place to ourselves.
Never one to give up easily, Midge suggested "Why don't we top-rope
something?" Ten minutes later, we knew why. No scope for top
anchors, and it was starting to drizzle. I know when it's time to
call it a day. "That's it - let's find a nice limestone valley and
go for a walk."
Midge is made of sterner stuff: "Look here in The Book, Horseshoe
has routes we might do, and it's further east so it might be dry."
So, after avoiding the overgrown track by sneaking past an anonymous
lorry unloading into a tunnel in the hillside, it was off to
just-short-of-Stoney, into a neat little car park right by Horseshoe
Quarry entrance.
Altogether a better prospect. Sheltered, yet open and welcoming.
Impressive walls. And other people!
Midge had studied The Book, and we headed straight off to Star Trek
Wall to tackle the easiest route in the Peak, Uranus, F3. Only 8m
high, and we could see there were a couple of rings at the top to
lower off from. All went well as far as those rings.
Up there, it became apparent that:
- Two 9mm's is not ideal for bolted routes.
- I only had very short QDs, and needed a longer one to reach the
rings if I wanted to keep my feet on anything.
- Beyond clipping in with a QD [OK, I now know it should be 2 QDs] I
didn't know what to do.
- It was not a good place to make a mistake.
Girl-guide training coming to the fore, Midge called up instructions
that if executed 2,000 times would probably have converted the ropes
into a large crocheted tea-cosy, but followed just twice got each
rope running from her, through a ring, and to me. And I didn't drop
even one of them. And Midge didn't drop me.
Midge nipped up and collected the QDs, leaving one rope in place so
we could easily try Skywalker F4, which shared the rings.
Skywalker was OK. Somehow we managed while doing all this to pop a
rope through the lower-off rings for Gargle Blaster F6a.
Gargle Blaster proved entertaining, so now we knew we could manage F4
but hadn't the remotest chance on F6a. At which point, the Harpur
drizzle caught up with us.
On the way out we looked at the superb 38m slab of Trog and
Neanderthal F4/F5, and even worked out how to do 38m routes with our
one 45m rope and one 40m rope. But with our limited experience and
drizzle in the air, routes requiring fancy ropework didn't seem to be
a good idea. We must be getting old and cautious.
We were tempted by Sag Ponir F4+ 'one hard move', which folk on
RainDance [F6c!] kindly pointed out to us, but although it was steep
enough to be still dry, somehow we drifted off to Outside Cafe and
chocolate cake.
Well of course we now know you pull a load of rope up, double it,
push it through the rings?.
We know why the gear shops are full of 60m 11mm ropes.
And we'll definitely go back to Horseshoe. Maybe in the winter, it's
so sheltered. But we could really do with borrowing an 80m rope?..
hint hint.
Roger Dyke
November Newsletter Index.
Copyright © 2006 Karabiner Mountaineering Club
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