The Wild Outdoors

Category: Hiking in Europe

Mont Blanc; a defeat by the “King of Europe”

November 7th, 2022
A dream of a lifetime abruptly cut short, not because of personal shortfalls but because of the weather. It’s a good job us Brits are used to the weather ruining our fun!

Ahh Mont Blanc. You win some and you lose some and this one was most definitely a loss. Try as we might but sometimes the mountains aren’t in the mood to be conquered. We can train, prepare and train some more but during an alpine adventure, it is often circumstances outside of our control that end up with full control of our destiny; and that’s exactly what happened with Mont Blanc.

Mont Blanc, the highest point in Western Europe, had for many years been a prospect and challenge that excited me and 2022 was supposed to be THE year. The wheels really got in motion long before this way back in 2018 where I went on an alpine trek in Switzerland and summited my first 4000m+ peak. This trip really got the alpine juices flowing and after months of training, the time had come to attempt Mont Blanc, or so I thought, because in all her 4810m towering glory, she just wasn’t in the mood from the minute I stepped off the plane and arrived in beautiful Chamonix.

Arrival

Arriving in Chamonix, thunder clouds rolling down the valley and with Mont Blanc casting a watchful, icy glare over us, the nervous excitement really started to build. Craning my next up towards the direction of where the summit rested it was hard to imagine I’d be standing there in as little as five days time.

With very little alpine experience and without the skills to attempt this on our own, this trip was booked with Adventure Base, a reputable company with highly experienced guides. Day one involved the usual formalities of getting to know the rest of the group, the guide and a welcome meal where everyone shared stories and a final reminder of kit needed.

Gran Paradiso

Gran Paradiso (4061) was our acclimatisation climb. Getting used to the altitude is vitally important when tackling higher mountains especially if you’re coming from a low altitude country. Without acclimatisation and getting your body used to the higher altiudes slowly, altitude sickness can set in quickly as your body is not able to take in as much oxygen. You can suffer from sickness, headaches, dizziness, shortness of breath and a loss of energy which can turn into a medical emergency therefore before attempting Mont Blanc, we wanted to get our bodies used to the higher altitude first.

“Your gloves won’t be warm enough for Mont Blanc,” I heard a rich Spanish accent announce from behind me – our guide Fabio.

“But I used them for the Breithorn which was over 4000m high and I’ve got inners too.” I responded.

With a roll of the eyes came another, “they won’t be warm enough.”

Going against everything I believe in, I decided to ignore the professional advice and take the risk that my gloves would actually be fine!

The climb

Located in Italy, a drive through the Mont Blanc tunnel took us towards our first mountain of the trip. Parking in a lovely little valley surrounded by Italian Peaks, lush fields and forests we set off excitedly. After a few hours uphill and through varied terrain, past herds if Ibex and towards the snow-capped mountains, we finally caught sight of Gran Paradiso in all her beauty.

Our accommodation that night was the Rifugio Chabod (2710m). Mountain hut experiences can really vary but this one was homely and welcoming with some excellent home-cooked Italian food on offer and comfy bunkbeds.

As the 3am alarm startled me from my dream riddled slumber (thank the altitude for a resting heart rate of 120bpm and some random dreams) I slipped into my carefully planned out clothing and headed for breakfast. As I stepped outside the bitter wind clawed at my face and I was thankful for my warm layers. Setting off under the light of the moon, the stars and our headtorches the path was a steady uphill. Looking back towards the hut, we were treated to a stunning cloud inversion. With only two headtorches in front of us and none behind us, the feeling of isolation within these beautiful giants was deafening.

Soon, not long after sunrise, we met the snow line, attached our crampons and roped up following a steady pace, one foot in front of the other and with limited rest.

By this point I was on an absolute high – I was feeling strong and moving well and the clouds that had previously been building high above us, had cleared from the summit and as we reached the top of the glacier we were met with blue sky and warm sunshine. Our guide looked more concerned as he looked towards some darkening clouds in the distance and muttered something about “getting a move on” before looking once more at some tiny black UFO shaped clouds far in the distance (a sign that bad weather is approaching). We set off once again, the summit within an hours reach, but not 20 minutes later we were engulfed in thick fog, cloud and light snow. I couldn’t see two people in front of me on the rope and certainly couldn’t see the guide at the front. Visibility was around 3-5m.

We retraced our steps along the summit ridge, looking for the way onto the final scramble to the summit and after eventually finding it, our pathway was blocked by a chunk of snow with a large crack in it. With nobody else on the mountain by this point, the only decision was to turn around, the summit an agonising 40m away. An easy decision. A sensible one. But still a heart wrenching one. We were SO close. Down we trudged, falling through the soft snow and back to the hut for our final night.

Rest Day

Back in Chamonix, we had time for one rest day and after another telling off about my gloves I reluctantly forked out an extortionate £100 on some gloves that had a comfort temperature of -20 degrees. Sorted. This day also made way for the arrival of Nacho, the other guide joining us on our Mont Blanc attempt (for safety reasons it’s a 2:1 ratio for Mont Blanc) and after the usual introductions his outburst of “there’s no chance” really wasn’t what we wanted to hear. With a huge storm forecast and 100mph winds, a small window of 3 hours was there for our summit attempt. Both guides said there may be a chance if the window of clear weather that was forecast actually turned up, but they weren’t hopeful. The choice was ours; attempt it and probably fail or stay in Chamonix and do something else with the guides instead.

Obviously, we chose to go for it. How could you not? A small chance is a chance, and we were prepared to take the risk. Tomorrow was the beginning.

Mont Blanc

An early start and my new gloves packed, we set off for Mont Blanc. Depending on the time of year you go, you can often miss out a 2 hour trudge uphill and jump on the Mont Blanc train to an altitude of 2380m and sensational views. Unfortunately for us, the train wasn’t open yet so our only option was to walk.

Soon, the heavens opened and we were pelted by rain. After sheltering for a while, it showed no sign of stopping so we carried on through the wind and rain (which eventually turned to snow) over a mix of stony paths and snow-banks, before meeting the final scramble towards our hut for the night, The Tete Rousse at 3167m. Crossing through the snow, I was so relieved to head into the warmth of a hut and some lunch, along with around 50 other climbers/hikers.

This hut was the no thrills hut I was used to. Basic, no running water, no showers, rooms with up to around 20 people in all sleeping next to one another on a long bench. The bedrooms were downstairs too, cut into the rock face I believe, surrounded by metal so they were absolutely freezing.

At dinner, we heard the familiar comment of “there’s no chance, the window is even smaller and the wind is getting stronger.” It was hard to believe – we headed out from the hut into the calmest of evenings, the summit of Mont Blanc just out of view in front of us, a crystal clear sky and literally, no wind. It was perfect, so calm. So quiet. So clear. I watched the most unbelievable sunset from part way up Mont Blanc that night, surrounded by the mountains I’d once dreamt of.

Before bed, all the guides in the hut went out for their evening meeting leaving all the clients, looking nervous, back in the communal area. This was it; decision time. Will we or won’t we?

Back our guides came, a sullen look on their faces before uttering those words I just didn’t want to hear; ” We can’t take you guys. We’re sorry. The storm is coming in earlier and the weather window is gone. It’s too dangerous.”

It was like a thump to the heart, it really was. All that time and effort put into the training, all the dreaming, all the waiting and it was gone.

Beautiful clear skies outside were just a mask for what was to come.

We had two options and every guide agreed;
1. Option 1 – head down early tomorrow morning back to Chamonix and do another activity for our final day.
2. Option 2 – head up to the next hut after an early breakfast and then make our way towards the final summit ridge line if possible. They thought we might be able to get to within around 300m of the summit but were very clear that we would have to turn around at this point unless a miracle occurred. Then we’d be heading back to the new hut for the night and walking down to Chamonix on our last day.
Option 2 won. They were right back in Chamonix, who was I to doubt them?

After a VERY cold night, I woke in the morning to blue skies. Was this a joke!? Confused, I opened the door to have it nearly blow off the hinges and the wind to almost throw me down the mountain side. OK, they were right. The wind was INSANE. and actually, really scary at times. Heading back down the mountain, with more fresh snow, was hazardous so we found some quieter, more sheltered areas and slid almost all the way down the snow-slopes using our poles to steer us back to the train and the final walk back down to our pick-up point.

The mood was so subdued; it was the only decision and with black clouds swirling above us with the occasional pop of thunder ringing loud, our only priority was getting off the mountain safely.

Back in Chamonix, the feeling of failure was suffocating. Failure, not because of my lack of ability, but because of the weather.

Failure; a word full of negativity.

Failure; an idea that we could have/should have done better. That we could have done more?

But was it really failure?Yes in some sense, not making it to the summit was a failure but when I look at all the things I achieved during this trip, they far outweigh the one failure – being fitter and stronger than I ever have before, having an inner determination I didn’t know I had, learning new skills and getting better at alpine mountaineering, listening to fascinating stories from the guides, meeting new people, setting new goals and not to mention getting 3/4 of the way up Mont Blanc!

Maybe it’s time to move on from a summit either being an achievement or a failure and to start focusing on the journey getting there too because summiting is such a small part of this journey when we think of all the sacrifices and dedication we put in in the lead up to our summit attempt.

That day, nobody else summited Mont Blanc. Actually, at our attempt point, we were 3 weeks into the season and no commerical group had yet summitted. After that, it was sporadic. With warming temperatures that season, Mont Blanc saw snow melt like no other, storms, closures and huge rockfalls. Successful summits were infrequent and some guiding companies shut up shop early for the season. A sign of things to come? I hope not.

But it didn’t all end on a negative! On our final day, we got to scramble and climb across the incredible Cosmiques Arete – the hardest climb I’ve done so far and every second was a joy. At the end, all I could think to do was throw my arms around our original guide, Fabio, and say “thank you, I’ve had the best time”, as I tried to wipe away the tears from under my sunglasses.

What an experience. Will I be back for Mont Blanc again in the future? Who knows but with that question unanswered one thing I know for sure is that my love of big mountains grows stronger every day.

Huge thank you to Adventure Base for such professional service from start to finish.

P.S You might be wondering if I used my gloves in the end – I didn’t. I confirm they remain unused and waiting for the next big mountain trip!

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Alpine trekking through the Swiss-Italian Alps.

August 25th, 2022

Mountaineering in great, alpine mountain ranges, trudging across crisp, vast glaciers, staying in mountain huts and conquering high summits has always been on my wish list. The draw of the Himalayas, its pointed peaks and huge, still growing glaciers has always fascinated me. I have always wanted to be a real mountaineer, someone who can just escape into the mountains for a month or two, my kit on my back, navigating never ending crevasses, trusting crampons to not let me slip into them and standing on the top of some of the highest mountains in the world. Unfortunately, I just don’t have the skills to do anything like this on my own.

But fear not! There are a ton of companies out there who, as long as you are fit and do have some mountain experience, will take you on high level treks. After a lot of internet searching, we decided to book a guided trek with KE Adventure. We booked on the Italian High Level Route which is a week long trek (6 days actual hiking) through the Swiss-Italian alps. It may not be the Himalayas but The Alps are just beautiful and somewhere we were used to going. As long as you’re fit and have some mountain experience, it isn’t too hard! The summits are long slogs but we didn’t come across anything technical. Besides, you have a guide with you to help out so it’s fine!

We spent a few days in Zermatt first of all, doing some hikes of our own and getting used to the difference in altitude before our trek. Finally the day had come, we met our group (only 5 of us!) and went to sleep, ready for what was to come.

Zermatt to the Gandegg Hut
After meeting everyone in our group the night before, we set off from Zermatt, taking the cable car up high above the lush valley floor, above walkers following well-worn paths and higher into the glistening snow capped mountains. At the top, we made a short walk to the Gandegg Hut at 3029m. The views from this hut are spectacular; the Matterhorn is to the west, the Breithorn with its rounded summit is to the north, the Monte Rosa to the east and the Weisshorn to the south. The hut used to be used as the base for the ascent up to the Breithorn but now there is another cable car that can take you much closer. The hut offered a warm welcome, good food and friendly chat but was much quieter than I thought it would be. Our group had a whole room to ourselves!

We spent the rest of the afternoon practising skills we might need on the nearby Theodul glacier. This included practising a self-arrest with an ice axe (in case you slip and slide down a slope), learning basic crampon techniques and how to help get people out of a glacier if they fall in! Yikes! We settled in that night, a room half empty with loads of space to spread all our kit out.

Summiting the Breithorn (4164m)
The next day we woke up and quickly set off back down the rocky path to the cable car. We travelled up to the top of the Klein Matterhorn at 3883m and headed straight up The Breithorn. This was a pretty simple trek up, but I was sweltering in the sunshine! My crampons gripped the snow and ice beneath me and we trudged, roped up one behind the other, along the clear path marked out by earlier climbers. The snow sparkled in the sunshine, the sky as blue as the ocean encircled the early morning sunshine. We reached the top and huge smiles of achievement appeared on our faces. The view from the top was something else. I‘ve spent a lot of time in the mountains skiing and hiking but this just felt different. The ridge that stretched out in front of us lead towards the clouds and the valley below. Tiny black dots moved carefully across the ridge, making their way to our current spot. Underneath the happiness in my mind, I could feel a slight pain creeping its way behind my eyes and around my head. Must be the heat I thought, I definitely hadn’t drank enough.

After ten minutes or so we descended the ridge towards to the col and followed this glacier all the way to Italy! We walked below huge seracs into the remote wilderness, passing only a handful of other people, all in a rush to escape the potential of a catastrophic serac collapse above us. As we walked and walked and walked, for hours and hours the heat bouncing off the freezing snow became unbearable. I had minimal layers on but couldn’t cool down, my headache had grown with a vengeance, and I couldn’t shift a sickly feeling in my stomach. Eventually, we reached the Rifugio d’Ayas at 3440m, our hut for the night. Nestled within the glacier, the views from this hut were a sight to behold. The view from the toilet even better! After a quick dinner, I reluctantly settled down to sleep, my headache pounding behind my eyes.

A long day
I’m a fan of early mornings but boy, was this an early start! I’m pretty sure the sun was only just starting to break through the clouds when we left the hut and started our descent further into Italy. It was a stunning walk down, scrambling down steep rock paths, passing ibex (wild mountain goats) basking in the warm summer sunshine while looking back up towards the glistening snow and glaciers where we had just come from.

We reached the bottom after a good few hours, but then started heading straight back up, up, up. We navigated across an immense, at times challenging boulder field and eventually we reached the top. Oh how the weather changed! The sunshine captured by grey, looming clouds and rain forcing us to quickly get into our full waterproof gear. The temperature dropped and thunder crackled above us. Eventually we reached a cable car which took us down to Stafal. A little village where we stopped for a delicious lunch – pizza and cake! We stocked up on supplies and surprise surprise took another cable car back up the other side of the valley to our next refuge hut: the Rifugio del Gabiet. Wonderful! Our own private room, running, hot water and showers. Heaven!

Summiting Pyramid Vincent (4125m)
More cable cars. I started to feel like a fraud. Here I was on a “trek” through the mountains but spending an awfully long time on cable cars. After my husband pointed out, “well, you could walk up if you want but it would probably take most of the day to get to the next point”, I quickly shut my mouth. Straight out the cable car, onto a glacier, the views were phenomenal once again. Lakes dotted along the valley and glaciers stretching their fingers as far as they could below us.

We headed up some fixed ropes and carried on straight up, past our refuge stop for the night to ascend Pyramid Vincent. At 4125m it was another long but simple, glacial trek. Although this didn’t feel so simple. My legs weakened underneath me, my breath became a lot heavier than normal. Was I hungry? I blocked out my thoughts, put my head down and trudged up behind the guide. That niggling feeling in my head returned, pains behind my eyes and a sudden thirst that wouldn’t go away. I was struggling. I didn’t want to be the weakest so I carried on, not enjoying a single moment. Pain searing through my legs, my bag feeling heavier and heavier, getting slower and slower, and the summit not seeming to get any closer. Our guide waved, “c’mon, we’re nearly there!” He was right; a mere 1 minute further and we were standing on the top of Pyramid Vincent (4215m).

I was thankful when we spent only a little time here, my headache was now verging on another migraine and I tried to ignore the sickness I could feel. Suddenly it hit me, this is twice now. Twice I’ve had these same feelings high up. At altitude. Was it altitude sickness? Surely not, we weren’t even that high! I kept quiet and followed the group back down. My future plans for the Himalayas whirling around my aching head. Our plan was to then traverse across and make a quick summit of Balmenhorn (4167m) but the black clouds were building again and we could hear booms of threatening thunder in the distance. Carrying metal ice axes, we made a sharpish exit back to the refuge just as the thunderstorm rolled in.

Now let me take a moment to tell you about the Rifugio Gnifetti (3547m), our hut for the night. This was a lively place, Mont Blanc had been closed due to poor weather so it was even busier with guides bringing their clients to different mountains instead. The food was amazing. The views were amazing. But oh my, the sheer volume of men walking around, naked as the day they were born, feet balanced on sinks, washing their danglers with water from the shared areas, was enough to make me want to wash my eyes with bleach. I can never un-see that. I couldn’t hack it. Holes in the floors as a toilet? No problem. Holes for toilets with people’s food in solid form smeared all around the hole? A big problem. Shared toilets? Not a problem. Shared toilets where men piss all over the drainage area? A big problem. Where do I stand? How do I squat down to do my business without your business touching me! What is wrong with you people!!?? I could have cried. In fact I did. I walked straight out to find my highly amused husband, told him that it was a stupid idea coming on this trek and finally went to sulk in my sleeping bag, squashed in a room with around 13 other blokes and their body odours. HELL.

A better day
Another early morning start, this time before the morning sun had even started to come up, but oh what a beautiful time to be awake in the high alpine summits! The moon glistened off the ice crystals and the snow crunched beneath our crampons. We headed up, retracing our steps from the day before. Soon, the sky started to change colour – in the distance Mont Blanc appeared as if a dominant giant watching down over the valley below. We followed each other, step by step, head torches lighting our path all the way up to the Monte Rosa group of peaks. It is the largest area above 4000m in the European Alps and what a treat for the eyes it is!

The weather was crystal clear, the wind a mere gentle breeze and as we reached the top of the Lisjoch Col, the views back down towards the Matterhorn were simply breath-taking. Never have I been somewhere in the mountains where I felt this small, this alone, this insignificant. Summits towered above us on both sides, glaring down on us as if to remind us to be careful, watch our step and take care.

It was a marvellous day, but tough. The col is never ending but beautiful. We traversed glaciers, retracing our route when we couldn’t find a way through and eventually made it to the Monte Rosa Hut at 2883m. The Monte Rosa hut is incredibly modern and apparently, almost self-sufficient in energy. Encased in aluminium, the sun beams reflect and create a beautiful reflection. It was pretty large and incredibly comfortable. The best part was undoubtedly the view down the glacier and towards the mighty Matterhorn.

We spent the evening looking out at the views, an incredible sunset over the Matterhorn and listened to amazing stories of the past from our mountain guide.

Goodbye
The final day had arrived and a bit of a lie in was granted. By 8am we had set off, down a steep path and across rocks to get down to the glacier. Crampons on. A trek along the glacier eventually leads you to the Gornergrat mountain railway. Well, I was shocked to remember that not everyone has huge backpacks, carries ice axes and wears clumpy walking boots around here. As we waited for the next train down, tourists spilled out over the area, filling the spaces like flood water in their flip flops, little summer dresses, shorts and high heels! Yep. Their faces were a treat, they gasped in awe at the views surrounding them, posed for Instagram worthy photos probably hash-tagged with #ihikedhere #whataview #exhausted #solucky when all they really did was get off the train and walk a few minutes. But good for them, people should appreciate the natural beauty of the mountains. A few stared at us and nodded, as if to say “you look knackered, what’s wrong with you?” With one last look behind us at the route we had taken down through the mountains, we jumped on the next train and sighed a sense of gratitude and relief as we sat down.

We had finished, and what a journey it was. That night, we shared our favourite memories over a fondue in a local restaurant, drank wine and beer in Zermatt and laughed until it was time for bed.
What a week.

If you enjoy hiking and love the idea of a higher altitude challenge I HIGHLY recommend KE Adventure Travel. Everything was smooth with them from start to finish and we had no problems at any point of our trip. Don’t worry about having a lack of alpine skills, this was a beginner trip and as long as you’re fit and used to long days then you’ll enjoy the challenge!

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