A Strange And Savage Summer!? Duncan Lee
By Duncan Lee
Nearly three months of hot sunny settled weather in the Alps! Perfection personified, or so you would think. Wrong! August's heat wave, estimated to have killed around 10,000 people in France, caused chaos in the mountains. Seasoned alpinists viewed the conditions with horror, adapted plans to suit and advised the uninitiated that had enough nous to ask questions. Many did not however and the constant drone of helicopters accompanied any forays into the mountains. Even experience, good judgement and a yellow streak a mile wide were no guarantee this year. Conditions were deteriorating rapidly from day to day and the authorities were forced to take drastic action such as closing huts, routes and eventually entire mountains. At one stage an armed gendarme had been stationed at the Grand couloir on the Blanc to deter the foolhardy and terminally stupid from attempting to cross. These decisions were not taken lightly considering the loss of revenue involved for the huts and the guides plus the eventual knock on effect in the valleys.
So what brought this situation about? The winter had been one of the best for years with large quantities of snow and low temperatures. February on the Italian side of the Monte Bianco massif barely saw a day above minus 5. One good winter however could not repair the damage of years of slow steady glacial retreat and spring arrived early and with avengeance. By late April and May temperatures in the Alpine valleys were already topping 30 degrees C regularly and the winter's accumulation of snow soon melted away. Spring was also very dry with very little in the way of fresh snowfall. Thus by the time June and July arrived (there was one day during this period when the temperature in Coumayeur was below 30C) things were on the downhill slope.
Early season visitors faired best however getting perfect conditions on classic routes such as the Walker Spur on the Grand Jorrasses which was climbable in rock boots until a big chunk of it fell down in August. This was just one of many major rock falls in late July and August. It was like a war zone in the mountains.
Despite the conditions it was still possible to get the odd route in. Late July was spent acclimatizing and getting my Dad and his friend Peter up the Briethorn before they flew home leaving Colin and I to get on with some harder routes. Attempt one was the Italian Ridge on the Matterhorn which according to the Cervinia guides was in perfect condition but unbeknown to them (at the time of asking) and us a rock fall just above the Carrel hut had left the route in a dangerous state. Thus our arrival at the Carrel hut coincided with another rock fall and the arrival by helicopter of the Guardia di Finanza. They had a quick chat with the guides present and closed the hut and the climb. BUGGER! The long slog back down to Cervinia was a bitter brooding affair. How dare they prevent people from making their own decisions about the safety of a climb based on years of hard gained experience. Mind you we were not about to argue with a man with a gun.
Colin and I then beat a retreat to Valle Dell-Orco for some fun cragging before he flew home and I headed over to Chamonix to meet up with Steve Bowker. Our first venture into the hills was a day trip into the Valle Blanche from the Auguille di Midi telepherique. The ice tunnel had collapsed and the arête was completely unrecognizable from previous years consisting of slate grey bare ice and crevasses stuffed with bales of straw. Once in the valley the mountains revealed themselves to be in just as pitiful a condition. The north face of the Tour Rhonde , for example, consisted of two unconnected patches of bare ice that were constantly being racked by stonefall. A huge bergshrund ran the entire length of the face providing a natural barrier to anyone wishing to make a bid for the Darwin awards. The crash, cracks and rumbles of stonefall were constant and the glacier itself was grey and bare with fresh crevasses creaking open daily.
Steve and I did the excellent Contamine route on the fine honey coloured granite of Pointe Lachenal and beat a retreat back to Cham to reflect on the situation. On the way out we passed Dave Kenyon and partner on their way to do the Gervasutti Pillar which had been recommended to them as a safe route by someone who had done it two days earlier. Our observations that day did not confirm that and after a quick inspection from the relative safety of the glacier the next day Dave and his partner ran away. The final straw was seeing a rock bounce out of the left hand couloir over the top of the pillar and into the right hand couloir. How quickly things change.
Two days latter Steve and I were back in the war zone for our own personal lesson in the speed that the conditions were deteriorating. The plan was to do a route on the fine looking walls of Pointe Adolphe Rey one day, camp in the valley and then do the Swiss Route on the Grand Capucin the following day. We had received favourable reports and good information regarding the Capucin from an American team on the campsite and from the guide's office in Cham.
Part one of this master plan saw us failing to find a safe route to the base of Pointe Adolphe Rey through a veritable maze of crevasses and dripping fragile snow bridges.
A tactical retreat back to the tent was made in order to spend an afternoon studying the stonefall activity down the couloirs on either side of the Cap whilst weighing up the 'new' approach to the routes. The usual easy snow plod up the Couloir des Auguillettes was an unclimbable deathtrap.
After a night spent listening to regular rockfalls a closer inspection early the next morning revealed the promised 'safe' corridor to the base of the climb between the rubble cones from the couloirs on either side; the beta from the Yanks was looking good. Safe is a relative term however so we ran like hell across this section to the shelter of the base of the towering monolith that is the Grand Cap. The five approach pitches were constantly accompanied by the noise of rocks rattling down the couloir that we were keeping as far to our left as possible but once on the Swiss Route proper we were able to relax and enjoy some fine climbing and exposure. We summitted at 3pm and commenced on the long series of abseils after spending a few minutes on the apex of the beast. There was no celebration on the summit as we were both fully aware that the riskiest part of the day lay ahead; getting back out into the middle of the glacier. The heat of the day had intensified the rockfall to a truly frightening scale and frequency. Whilst we were preparing the final abseil a truly monstrous rockfall swept down the left hand couloir with blocks the size of cars whistling through the air before crashing into the previously 'safe' corridor that we had approached upon. We were glad we could not see the expressions on the faces of a German team who were on the verge of running for it across the corridor. A minute earlier and they would have been dead. As it was they made it back to the glacier safely and ten minutes latter we like them, stopped, looked both ways, crossed our fingers, felt lucky and ran like the hounds of hell were on our tails to the relative safety of a heavily denuded melting glacier.
It was not until 10am the following day when we reached the sanctuary of the telepherique station that we showed any elation about the whole venture and that had more to do with getting out of there unhurt and without the assistance of a helicopter. Many others had not been that lucky. Even now with the 20/20 clarity of hindsight and numerous boozy nights of reflection I do not think the climb, excellent though it was, justified the perils of the descent. Thus once Steve had headed homewards, Mr. Kenyon and I turned our backs on the big mountains and headed off to the Bregalia initially and then Valle Dell-Orco. After all the routes that are still standing next year can only be in better condition than they were this August. Fingers crossed.
