Routes for connoisseurs.

Pizza del'Prevat

 John Young and I had our sights set on the stunning Pizzo de Prevat for a while.  We got very excited about climbing the North East Pillar, which ticks all the boxes of what we wanted:  The direct line, good rock, very well protected, no one else around and a relatively simple descent from the summit.  Plus a good hut to stay in with good food and a guardian who was not hell bent in cramming everyone into the same dorm so that they didnt have to tidy extra dorms.

All was perfect apart from the key cable car which leaves from the valley floor.  It was closed for the season for a rebuild.  The prospect of walking from the bottom to the hut or more importantly walking back down after the climb was too much.  This was last year.

So this year ,with the cable car fully functioning  it was back on the agenda.  Yet the weather was awful.

We dealt with this challange by driving further south via Milan and then heading to the Bregalia in the pouring rain.  

A wet Piz Balzet in the background.

We stayed in the beautiful Swiss village of Sils Maria. Then still in the pouring rain walked up to the Abigina Hut, banking on the weather being good for the next day.  Despite it being Saturday night very few other people had been as descivse as John and I.  It is a lovely hut.  Sure enough at around 5.00pm the weather cleared and a hand full of of other people turned up.  

weather clearing after the storm

The Hut

The next morning we left at about 7.00am.  We were alone which is how we like it. A brisk but steady walk took us to the foot of the climb in about an hour.  Our route was to be the south ridge of the Piz Balzet.  The guide book suggested it was about eight pitches, which was wrong by about eight pitches. Still it gave some good climbing on solid rock and splendid situations, never difficult but good.  

All alone.

Summit block

From the summit its a scramble followed by 3 rappels which deposited us in a benign gulley before  descending a rather tedious giant boulder field, then  rejoing the path which took us back to the hut. A completely different scene from the previous day.  Loads of Sunday day trippers up for buckets of fondue, kids playing in the hut sand pit, complete with lots of toys to entertain the children of which there were many.

An hours walk back to the cable car and then another night in the  hotel in Sils Maria.

We were now back on our plan of a year ago.  The next morning we drove over several mountain passes with lots of fast sweeping "Lamborghini bends' arriving in Rodi. Fiesso.  The  cable car had indeed been rebuilt and any need for a lift operator  or  a cash desk had been engineered out of the system.  Everything including the buying of the ticket was automatic.  

Fifteen minutes later we were deposited above the Lago Tremorgio where there was a convient restaurant for a spot of lunch.  We then had an hour and halfs fairly stiff walk to the Capanna Leit[Italian is the language in this region of Switzerland]

Again we were the only climbers in the hut.  

The route was as good as the guide book said it was .  

Me on one of the dramatic pitches.

John climbing the final section

It was well bolted on immaculate rock.  From the summit it was about an hour back to the hut, then back to the cable car in about another hour.  

We needed somwhere to stay, and again by ostensibly "winging it found" our selves in the simple but fantastic in the Hotel Forni  bang slap  in the center of the town of Airolo.  It had a really good restaurent too.

The next day we drove back to Chamonix via the Nufenpass, through to Brig , the Martigny .  We finished our time togther by climbing the modern rock classic Cocoa Girls which sits on the Franco/Swiss border high above the frontier  of Chatelard.  We started early, which was imperative because the route is justafiably popular.  We were first on the route and stayed ahead of everyone else, yet by the time we topped out their were parties on every single one of the routes fantastic pitches.

The final pitch of Cocoa Girls

Mt Blanc seen from the route 

Slovenia: Beautiful, Friendly and Slightly More Complicated Than Expected

The castle lake Bled

Charles Sherwood  and I recently spent a week exploring Slovenia. Despite climbing together since the 1990s, neither of us had visited before, so a certain amount of reconnaissance was required.

Slovenia quickly proved itself to be one of those countries that leaves a very favourable impression. The scenery is exceptional, the mountains are surprisingly quiet once you step away from the busiest areas, and everyone we encountered seemed to speak excellent English, even construction worker who tells you can't park there because it will roll over the cliff.

Our first objective was the North Arête of Mala Mojstrovka. A worthwhile outing in its own right, but also a useful introduction to Slovenian mountain geography, route finding and suspect rock .One lesson arrived particularly early. We had been warned that the main car park for accessing Triglav from the north side fills up quickly. We discovered that "quickly" means around 4.30am.

North Arête of Mala Mojstrovka.

We later moved from the comforts of Lake Bled to the Aljažev Dom, a mountain refuge sitting directly beneath Triglav's immense North Face. The refuge itself was excellent and the terrace offers a dunting view of the utterly massive north face .

North Face of Triglav

 During our stay we watched two helicopter rescues take place on the face, including one involving a local Slovenian Guide. Watching rescue helicopters shuttle in and out of your intended route is a reassuring form of preparation.

Our objective was the Slovenian Route, regarded as one of the easier ways through the 800-metre North Face. The climbing itself is relatively straightforward. Finding your way through it is another matter entirely.

After an early dinner and a surprisingly comfortable night in the refuge annex [complete with air conditioning] the alarm went off at the ever-attractive hour of 3.45am. We skipped breakfast, packed our bags and headed off by headtorch.

I would like to say that the approach was straightforward.  It was not straightforward. Difficultlt vauge paths and many false trails.  Finding the key climbers path was a major challange . From there, things became more interesting. The guidebook referred to a "gable", a term that neither of us felt particularly well qualified to identify on a mountain face. A local Guide kindly pointed us in approximately the right direction before disappearing onto another route.

Thereafter, route finding became an exercise in following your nose.

The guidebook description seemed capable of describing almost any feature on the mountain, while the topo appeared to bear only a passing resemblance to reality. We climbed largely by judgement, instinct and the occasional reassuring sight of an old piton. Whether those pitons marked the correct route or merely the passage of previous confused parties remained unclear.

The climbing itself was rarely excellent. Chimneys, slabs, arêtes, scree slopes and occasional sections of surprisingly loose rock combined to produce an engaging day. The only consistent feature was uncertainty about exactly where we were.

Eventually we emerged into a large amphitheatre of steep rock with no obvious exit. We explored one possibility, then another. Neither looked especially convincing. We climbed a steep chimney protected by old pitons, scrambled onto a notch overlooking more intimidating terrain, and spent some time considering our options.

None of them appeared particularly attractive.

The North Face had suddenly become rather more serious than we had anticipated. Retreat looked difficult, continued progress looked uncertain, and for a brief period we found ourselves discussing contingency plans rather than climbing plans.

Then, with remarkable timing, two young Slovenian climbers appeared below us.

More importantly, they had climbed the route before.

With their help we gradually worked our way across the amphitheatre to a thin ramp which appeared to lead nowhere. That in turn led to a traverse that was almost invisible until you were standing on it. Eventually, and rather suddenly, the difficulties ended and we emerged onto the upper slopes of Triglav.

At 2pm we reached the rim of the North Face and were able to relax for the first time all day. After thanking the Slovenian climbers, we continued upwards towards the summit.

One of the striking things about Triglav is the contrast between the North Face and the normal route. After spending most of the day completely alone in a serious Alpine environment, we found ourselves joining a queue of cheerful walkers making their way up the final via ferrata to Slovenia's highest point.

By late afternoon we reached the summit at 2,864 metres. From there we descended along the ridge to the Vodnikov Dom where dinner and a bed were waiting. After more than fifteen hours on the move, both were greatly appreciated.

Vodnikov Dom: No better sight after 15hours.

The following morning we descended via a steep path [which  morphed into a via ferrata] back towards the valley and eventually returned to the Aljažev Dom.

I remarked to Charles that it seemed sensible to leave Slovenia before we did our seleves any real damage.The next day we drove hard for nearly ten hours arriving back in Chamonix.  We spent our final three days climbing on familair rock in the Aiguille Rouge.  The standout route being Les Fontes de Jouvance on the Aiguille Pourrie.

Les Fontes de Jouvance on the Aiguille Pourrie.

Observations :

A few observations for anyone considering a visit:

Slovenia is exceptionally welcoming and very easy to travel in.

Triglav National Park is deservedly popular, so parking and accommodation require advance planning.

Early starts are not optional if you want to avoid the crowds and the heat.  

The Slovenian Route is an excellent outing, but route-finding skills are every bit as important as climbing ability.

Local knowledge remains one of the most valuable pieces of climbing equipment ever invented.

All in all, Slovenia exceeded expectations. Excellent mountains, excellent huts and excellent people.

We left with some good climbs completed, a healthy respect for Slovenian route descriptions and the feeling that we had probably pushed our luck far enough for one trip.

A Few New Corners of the Alps

Peter and I have been climbing together for a very long time. Since the 1990s, in fact. It was therefore only fitting that he should spend six days climbing in Chamonix with me, a trip that happened to coincide with his 71st birthday.

Finding routes that Peter hasn't already climbed is becoming increasingly difficult, but there are still a few out there. One of this week's discoveries was the Dent du Fenestral, above the Emosson Dam.

The day begins with a beautiful but decidedly uphill two-hour walk to the Col du Fenestral. In warm weather an early start is highly recommended, as much of the approach faces the sun and there are few opportunities for shade. From the col, a superb ridge rises towards the summit, becoming steadily more impressive the higher you climb. The climbing is never particularly difficult, but there is enough exposure to keep things interesting yet most of the climb can be done moving together.

The summit itself is marked by a substantial cross and enjoys spectacular views across the surrounding peaks. The descent involves two 20-metre abseils and some straightforward scrambling back to the col before retracing the approach. A 40-metre rope is sufficient and, on hot days, carrying more water than you think you'll need is time well spent.

Mt Blanc in the background

It was a hot day. It would have been considerably hotter had we not set off early, though by halfway down the descent I still felt sufficiently cooked to warrant a brief immersion in a conveniently located stream. My legs certainly seemed to appreciate the gesture.

The other standout route of the week was the Grande Chenalette, high above the Grand Saint Bernard Pass. Like the Dent du Fenestral, it occupies a spectacular position and offers excellent climbing on an outstanding ridge. The route is longer than it first appears from below and rewards parties who keep moving steadily. 

Peter on the Grande Chenalette with the Gd Combin in the back ground

St Bernard Dogs at the St Bernard Monastery.

With settled weather and the July holiday crowds seemingly elsewhere, we had both routes entirely to ourselves. For anyone looking for alternatives to the better-known classics around Chamonix, both are well worth seeking out. Neither is especially hard, but both reward sound route-finding, efficient movement and a willingness to walk a little further than most.

In fact, the only day we shared a climb with anyone else was on Mani Puliti above La Flégère. The neighbouring party consisted of a French Mountain Guide who, after some conversation at a belay, discovered that he and Peter were exactly the same age. Once this important piece of information had been established, both parties carried on climbing.

Peter on the penultimate oitch of Mani Paluti

Even after all these years, it turns out there are still a few routes Peter hasn't climbed. We managed to find two of them.

Learning Before It Matters. This years Jonathan Conville Memorial Trust courses.

 For many British Mountain Guides, the Jonathan Conville Memorial Trust courses are a regular fixture of the summer season. The Trust was established in 1979 in memory of Jonathan Conville, who was killed on the descent from the Matterhorn after climbing its North Face in 1977. Its purpose is simple: to give young people the knowledge and skills to enjoy the mountains more safely.

The format has remained largely unchanged because it works. Participants spend three days in the mountains with a BMG Guide covering the fundamentals of alpine travel: movement skills, equipment, route choice, objective hazards and decision-making. Three days is not enough to make anyone an expert, but it is long enough to build awareness of the risks and to develop the judgement needed to manage them.

This year's courses took place during another  particularly hot spell in the Alps.  Discussions about timing, heat and objective hazards were never far away. The mountains provided plenty of real-world examples without us needing to manufacture any teaching scenarios.

The first day was based around Le Brévent. It is a useful venue for introducing many of the practical skills that underpin safe alpine travel while allowing participants to gain confidence moving on exposed terrain.

The second day took us onto the South Ridge of Les Glières. Despite being the middle of summer, we saw nobody all day. The ridge offered excellent terrain for teaching movement skills and discussing an important lesson of alpine climbing: efficiency and good judgement often contribute more to safety than any piece of equipment.

The final day was spent on the Aiguilles Marbrées, a classic alpine outing and an ideal place to bring together many of the lessons from the previous two days. Route finding, rope work, decision-making and movement on mixed terrain all featured, along with some excellent views across the Mont Blanc massif.

I ran the programme twice this summer with two different groups. In both cases the participants were highly motivated and keen to learn. Many were preparing for future alpine objectives, while others simply wanted to gain a better understanding of how to operate in the mountains safely and independently.

The enduring value of the Jonathan Conville courses is that they expose people to good habits early. Most mountain accidents are not caused by a single catastrophic mistake but by a series of small decisions that gradually erode margins of safety. Understanding avalanche conditions, rockfall, weather, timing, route choice and human factors does not remove risk, but it can significantly reduce it.

The mountains will always involve uncertainty. That is part of their attraction. The aim of the Jonathan Conville courses is not to eliminate risk but to help people recognise it, manage it and make informed decisions. Nearly fifty years after the Trust was established, that remains a worthwhile objective. Every summer a new group of young climbers and mountaineers leaves with a little more knowledge, a little more experience and, hopefully, a better chance of making good decisions when it matters. In the long run, that undoubtedly keeps some people alive.

Early Season Alps: Good Conditions, Variable Logistics

 

Applesrudelhorn formerly known as the Matterhorn

May was unseasonably hot. Properly hot. Too hot, really. June then arrived and quietly corrected things.

Stephen Kellock joined me again from Montreal. Early June has its advantages: fewer people, less noise, and a general sense that you have the mountains to yourself. The downside is that quite a lot of the infrastructure hasn’t got the memo. Huts shut. Lifts idle. Progress slightly theoretical.

We met beforehand for a beer to agree a plan, knowing that the plan never survives contact with reality.

Our first day was Dent du Fenestral, a fine and properly remote climb above Finhaut, not far from the Emosson dam. The approach is long enough to discourage the half-interested, which improves matters considerably.

Stephen on crux section of Dent du Fenestral

Summit Cross

Should have brought axe and crampons plus boots

The next day we climbed in the Saleina valley, beyond Orsières, before moving on to Zermatt. 

We stayed at the Base Camp Hotel in Zermatt, which is excellent and worth a mention. Zermatt remains an extraordinary place, though now best described as a long-term construction project with a mountain attached. There appear to be cranes everywhere. 

Matterhorn and one of the many cranes.

The following morning we took the Gornergrat railway, getting off at Rotenboden to climb the Riffelhorn. I hadn’t done it for over twenty years and found it noticeably harder than I remembered. This is either a geological shift or a personal one.

Rifflehorn 

Rifflehorn.

The weather turned as we descended, and we made it back to town just ahead of a proper soaking. Rain in Zermatt, as ever, meant snow higher up.

The next day we climbed the Breithorn. A clear day with fresh snow—just enough to make things civilised without creating extra work.

A contented Stephen on the summit of the Breithorn

After that we drove round to Saas-Fee and stayed at the Hotel Les Amis. The main issue was that the resort was more or less closed, including the lift we needed for the Allalinhorn. Plan A was quietly retired.

We adopted Plan B, which required less commitment. Being slightly tired by this point, we limited ourselves to the first descent of the season on the three-wheeled trikes from the top of the Hannig cable car. Worth noting that summer lift access is included with a hotel stay, which feels generous until you realise how many lifts are still shut.

Back in Chamonix we drove the MG Midget to the Col des Aravis and climbed the via ferrata just below the col. A sensible day.

On the final day we opted for something shorter and, in my view, the best via ferrata in the Mont Blanc region: the excellent route at Le Buet. We finished with lunch at the Hotel du Buet. Omelette and chips. No obvious way to improve on that, so we didn’t try.

Aiguille Verte seen from Le Buet meadows .