The Incredible South Pillar of Mt Aiguille

 

classic alpine cows from the car park

We came to be standing at the foot of the mighty south pillar of the Mont Aiguille because our climbing options were being continually reduced by bad weather.

Charles Sherwood and I had started our 10 days climbing together by firstly heading to the Oberland where we spent two nights in the Engelhornhutte.

sunset from the Engelhornhutte

  From here we climbed the south ridge of the Stimlilock and then the next day the south face of the Rosenlauistock.  Both were classic brilliant climbs which we had to ourselves.  It was only when we were returning to the Hut after the climb that it started raining. 

Charles on the summit of the Simelstock

Returning to the Engelhornhutte just before the rain

 By the time we were back at the car it was tipping it down.  We had had two days of climbing in spectacular surroundings, but were now faced with a lot of forecasted bad weather. It had been our plan to kick on from here and finish some of the four thousander meter peaks that reamianed for us to climb in the area

We reluctantly left the Oberland and headed back to Chamonix for a rethink.

On our third day we drove to the Vercors in torrential rain.  The reason we were going there was that the weather forecast was suposedly getting better - well better than the alps.  We checked into the local hotel at the foot of Mt Aiguille.  We then drank a beer while watching the lashing rain, all the time I was hoping we had not made a bad choice of venue.

The next morning the rain had stopped but there was a thick mist clinging to the mountains.  It was debatable if the climb would be dry enough.  But we set off anyway because the forecast was for better weather.

 After about two hours walk up through the broad-leaf forest we arrived at the foot of the climb.  It was still misty and cold.  The weather added to the sense of forbidding because the face is awe inspiring.  Above us circled sevral golden eagles, but to us the they could have been ominous vultures...

Our spirits were improved when I spotted some friendly blue paint marking the start of the first pitch.  

Screen shot of the topo showing the pitch grades

What's more the rock wasn't wet.  The first three pitches are not difficult, instead they serve to lead you into the middle of this massive face zig zagging around various overhangs.  The net result is that when you start the difficult climbing you are already several hundred meters above the start, and over a thousand meters above the village.  The climbing is very much dolomitic in style and "very old school."  That is to say lots of shaky holds, loose rock and questionable pitons. It needed a good steady grown-up approach to the climbing - be steady and do nothing in a hurried fashion. A sports climb plastered in bolts it defiantly is not.  It was becoming a climb of grandeur.  The situations it was providing were as good as any.  

It is all impressively steep.  

We steadily made our way up to the start of the crux pitch by following a delicate traverse above a huge overhang.  I belayed and shouted for Charles to follow.  It was while waiting for him  that I got splatted with drops of water which were  trickling from the crack above.  The key section of the climb we really needed to be dry was the one overhanging my head.

While Charles gingerly traversed across to the belay, I pondered what to do next.  Now, because of the traverse above the overhang, it would make retreat, at best, highly complicated because it would involve a diagonal escaping rappel.

Charles experincing some significant exposure

 Contiuning, as is often the case, was the least worst option.  The one thing the wet crack had in its favour was it contained lots of old wobbly rusty pitons and rotten wooden wedges.  Possibly/maybe, okay for pulling on , but probably not for falling on.  I set off and struggled up the crack eventually arriving at its top. I was somewhat wet, but delighted to have negotiated the crux, meaning the rest of the climb would be less challenging.  Nevertheless the subsequent pitch [although dry] was harder  and without the generous supply of pitons.   

Charles on one of the many tricky traverses

A final pitch did lead us to the end of the main climbing, but the exit was more gravel quarry than climb. 

The exit from the final pitch is loose

 With the climbing completed, we packed our bags changed out of our rock boots and firstly headed around the high balcon path, before joining and  scrambling up the descent path of the normal route and onto the summit plateau. 

The magnificient arch on the route to the summit plateau

 Here we encountered a herd of Bouqutin - some of which looked as if they were up for a fight.  Thier horns suggesting that they might win.  

guarding the path...

So with the eagles soaring above us and the animals closing in on us, the whole place took on a wildlife theme park vibe- but the difference was that this was the real deal.  It was a truely unique setting we had climbed onto.  We walked across the meadow to the summit.  

It was 5.00pm.  The weather had indeed cleared up providing us with views towards Grenoble where we could make out the outskirts of the city and the Ecrins to the east. 

Charles on the summit with Les Ecrins masiff in the background

 All that remained was the small detail of getting back down. Leaving the top is far from simple. Thankfully having climbed the normal route of Mont Aiguille several times over the last few years, I knew the descent  well.  We scrambled down the descent gulley before making the two rappells[ the second one being quite tricky].

Charles on the tricky rappel

 From where we picked up the path and just managed to get back to the car without recourse to headlamps [packed just in case] then a short drive back to the hotel where we made it just before they stopped serving dinner.  A full 12 hour day and  a climb that would hold its own with some of the most aesthetically rewarding that I have climbed in a while.

The next day the weather was showing no signs of improving in the alps - so we headed further south to Opierre which is an hours beautiful drive.  The town and area is one of the most important sport rock climbing areas in France.  We stayed a couple of nights at the very comfortable Les Ceans hotel which is about 5 km out side of the main village.

West Pillar Ascle

Charles on the classic Le Maitre de la Danse

The weather was good, yet un seasonably cool with a lot of wind on the exposed ridges, but out of the wind it was delightful.

Meanwhile back in the alps they were being subjected to another weather record ; The coldest September weather snap of the 21st Century.  What this meant was that the mountains as low as 2000 meters had been plastered in snow leaving significantly reduced options, yet we did manage a day climbing at Dorenez just outside Martigny and on our final day the snow cleared enough to venture upto Plan Praz at Le Brevent and climb the mellow sports-route Spitomaniak.

Charles Sherwood leading the Crux pitch of Spitomaniak

Mt Blanc seen from the belay of Spitomaniack