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 .

Home for well over 250 nights . The Original Gouter Refuge is no more.

The old Goûter Refuge is due to be dismantled this May. It feels like the wrong ending for a place that carried so much of the history of Mont Blanc. It could have been treated more like a monument—something closer in spirit to Camp 4 in Yosemite, which has heritage status. Instead, it will disappear in a fairly practical way, like most things in the mountains eventually do.

I have a long and slightly conflicted relationship with Mont Blanc. Over 35 years it has been both a workplace and something more personal. I started my guiding career there. In the early days I would climb it twice a week. It was efficient. You met clients, you built trust, and if things went well you could suggest they come back the following year for something more interesting. Many of them did. Some kept coming back for decades.

At one point I worked out that I had spent more than 250 nights in the Goûter Refuge. That seems excessive when written down, but it felt normal at the time.

The climbs themselves blur together now, but certain ones remain fixed. I climbed Mont Blanc with Don Planner, the first blind man to reach its summit. It was not straightforward, but it worked.

 My final ascent was with my daughter Sophie. 

It was the right way to finish. I had a few tears in my eyes as I left the summit. I have climbed Mont Blanc with all three of my daughters, and with my wife. Those are some of the best moments I have.

The old refuge was central to all of this. It was not comfortable, but it mostly worked. The guardian, Guy Bochataty was a wonderful man and a constant presence. His father had done the same job before him. Guy himself was effectively born into it. His mother went into labour at the refuge and didn’t make it to hospital. He was born on the mountain train on the way down. It set the tone.

Vincent, his second-in-command, spent 18 seasons up there. He served dinner by bringing every tray to every table on his own, every evening, without fail. It was faultless, and the system never changed. He always had a smile and genuinely loved his role. Reservations were made by writing to Guy in the off-season. He would reply by post in careful, immaculate French handwriting. There was time for that then.

Not everything was orderly. After the fall of the Berlin Wall, large numbers of climbers arrived from Eastern Europe. Many had poor equipment and no bookings. They came anyway. The result was predictable: too many people, not enough space. People slept on the floor. Some took beds that were not theirs. It was not ideal, but it was dealt with in the usual way—by getting through the night.

Because I was there so often, I was sometimes given a bed by the wall. This counted as luxury.

The toilet situation was basic. A shed at the end of an icy walkway. A long drop. No distractions. One night, a Guide friend of mine was heading there at about 2:00 a.m. He was stopped by someone asking to borrow his headlamp. The reason was simple: they had dropped theirs down the shaft. Retrieval was apparently under consideration.

Later, an annex was built to add more beds, and during the construction of the new refuge it was used to house the workers. One evening they had too much to drink and a fight broke out. The police were called. They arrived by helicopter. They are more used to altitude sickness and mountain rescues than breaking up drunken fights at 3,800 metres, but they dealt with it.

A slightly improved toilet was installed downstairs. I happened to meet the builders and was asked to test it. I agreed. It seemed like the right thing to do. Being the first person to use a new toilet at the Goûter Refuge is not something you aim for, but it is something you remember.

There were moments of clarity. One older guide would arrive and order two beers, always with the same explanation:

“Une pour la soif, une pour le plaisir.”

One for the thirst, one for the pleasure.

It is a useful distinction.

The refuge will go, and something more efficient has already replaced it. That is how these things work. But the old place held a particular kind of order within its absolute chaos. People who passed through it remember it in very specific ways—not because it was good, but because it was exactly what it was.

Foot Note:  In fact I now learn that the refuge will be rebuilt in the thermal park in St Gervais as a museum!

Good Snow . Very Good Skiers.

 Jake and his son Kit joined me for three days of ski mountaineering.  The weather and conditions were fabulous.  This was Kit's first introduction to touring although he and his father were very good skiers.

Despite their ability, neither of them had skied in Chamonix before, which from my point of view was good because it gave me a "blank canvas" to show case some of the great day tours on offer.

On the first day we headed to Le Tour where we went through the fundamentals of avalanche safety protocol and then headed  over to the point Carraye, which offers spectacular views up the Rhone valley.  Returning to the resort we had a mixture of good skiing but also some challanging skiing.

On our second day we headed first to La Flegere from where we skied over to Brevent and from the summit of Le Brevent we headed to the col du Brevent and dropped off the back side.  Here we hit some first rate skiing.

At the 2000 meter mark we stopped and put our skins on before climbing back up to lac Cornu.  Here we stopped for some lunch.  Afterwhich we continued to climb to the Col de la Gliere.  We then skied down the combe de la Gliere and joined the piste.  What was even more fantastic was despite it being Easter we saw no one all day.

solitude.

Our final day we again headed for La Flegere this time for the famous Col Crochue/Col Berard ski tour. It is a marvellous journey, BUT it is always busy or at least the first climb is.  Generally after the first col eveyone fans out.  This is what happened to us and once again we found our selves on our own.

Jake making his way up to the col Crochue.

Jake & Kit with Col Crochue in the background.

The challange we faced was  that it was getting very hot.  This meant that the snow was deteriorating and there was an increased risk of wet-slide avalanches, so we had to keep moving and get through all the difficulties efficiently. The tour conviently finshes at the Hotel du Buet which has a bar.  An ideal place to wait for the train which whisked us back to La Flegere.

Skiing Contrasts between the US & Europe.

 It continues to be sunny cold and great snow, with the added adavantage of their being no one around.

Grands Montets looking perfect.

Skiing with Shanon and Antonia’s extended families was a study in contrasts—different abilities, different goals, but a shared enthusiasm for skiing somewhere else other than the US... Between them, there were a lot of children, which meant balancing progression, safety, and enjoyment across a wide range of skill levels.

I spent  my time with Colin, [Shanon’s son] and Antonia ,the ones keen to explore Chamonix's off-piste terrain with me. Together we covered the fundamentals of avalanche awareness: terrain selection, snowpack basics, route planning, and decision-making. The focus was on avoiding risk rather than reacting to it—understanding where not to go is more important than knowing how to get out of trouble.

We also discussed the cultural differences between skiing in France and the United States. In France, off-piste skiing is more integrated into the overall ski culture, but it comes with a clear expectation: if you leave the marked runs, you are responsible for your own safety. Mountain guiding is a regulated profession, with standardized training and certification, which creates a consistent baseline of expertise.

In contrast, mountain guiding in the U.S. is not uniformly regulated. While there are excellent guides, the lack of consistent oversight means the level of training and experience can vary more widely. It puts more responsibility on clients to vet who they ski with and to understand the risks involved.

For the rest of the group—those who preferred to stay on piste and focus on improving their skiing—I arranged sessions with my friend , ESF instructor Hugo Goisnard. This proved to be the right call. Hugo managed to raise the group’s technical level quickly while keeping the sessions engaging and safe. Confidence improved across the board, and just as importantly, everyone had fun doing it.

In the end, the trip worked because it matched the right approach to the right people: structured progression on piste for most, and focused safety education in off-piste terrain for those ready to take that step.

Hut to Hut Ski Touring abandoned. But still it could be worse...

Spring breifly falterered handing conditions back to winter quite decisively.  This is just as Charles arrived already to go ski mountaineering for a week. 

To start with the weather was good:

We kicked of with the beautiful tour off the back of the Col du Brevent.  As we made our way through the trip the weather was deteriorating.  In the end we comfortably made it back- but then everything changed. 

Winter returned big time 

 So dramatic was the change  in weather , with a huge drop in temperature and lots of fresh snow that we had to change our plan and content our selves with skiing untracked powder in the trees of St Gervais

 On learning of our new found plan and hearing how good the skiing conditions were Tabatha, Charles daughter, dropped everything, including the baby  and headed out to join us.

Skiing in parts of Megeve which I didnt know existed

Mind you the next day, we were somewhat wrong footed.  Expecting fabulous conditions at Combloux we eagerly arrived at the station to find that it had closed for the season- despite the best conditions of the year...

I hastily came up with a paln B. We headed to Rochbrune where we skied through powder making our way to the top of the teleski de Rochfort.  At the pre Rosset we dropped off the back of the resort, before putting our skins on and heading to the col La Croix de Pierre. It was our intention to then ski down to Haute Luce and then work our way back through Les Contamines lift system.  Yet at the col conditions were not great.  Low visibility and an increasing avalanche risk.  Instead we headed to the resort of Pras sur Arley.  This was not simple - the snow was difficult to ski, we had strong winds and a river to contend with.  

minor kit malfunction

Tabatha attempting to get out of the stream

Yet we made it into the resort and even managed to find a great place to eat, yet the menu was not comphrensive due to the fact that the resort was closing in a couple of hours...

Despite the fantastic snow we were finding the resorts closing in front of us.  One resort that was still open and in incredible condition was La Thuile in Italy so we went there and enjoyed marvellous untracked powder skiing- in beautiful weather.

On our final day the weather was not clear, but it was still cold and the snow was still so we returned to St Gervais where conditions remained jaw dropingly  good. 

No one around

Looking down the Epaule towards Le Fayet

Fabulous mid season conditions.

There has been a lot of snow in the Alps. It has thoughtfully consolidated itself into an excellent base, which, combined with largely stable weather and the occasional replenishing snowfall, has produced conditions that are—on balance—rather good. John Young, arrived at exactly the right time.

Monday

We headed to Combloux. It was quiet, the sky was blue, and fresh snow clung photogenically to the trees. In short: perfect. We skied off the back of the resort down to Le Plan. The snow began as impeccable, before evolving—thanks to a change in aspect—into a charming sun crust that encouraged some interpretive skiing. We sensibly skied around to north-facing slopes and were rewarded with a proper run through untracked powder in the trees. Returning to the lift system, we stopped for lunch at Bon Journal, which was efficient in the way one hopes lunch always will be.

Tuesday

Under more beautiful weather, we went to La Flégère, where ski mountaineers were out in force. We exited the gondola, turned left, and immediately achieved the rare luxury of solitude for the rest of the day. From the top of Le Brévent, we traversed the ridge and, just before the Col du Brévent, dropped onto north-facing slopes. While not entirely untracked, there was more than enough space to enjoy ourselves without social interaction.

We eventually encountered a group who had tracked the snow—an ENSA assessment team digging a snow pit for their final exams, presumably enjoying themselves in their own way. We then applied skins and headed up to Lac Cornu for a brief lunch before continuing over into the Combe des Glières and back into the Flégère lift system.

hitting the sweet spot

digging an avalanche pit