Touching The Cheese - Roger Daley
By Roger Daley
Day 1 Saturday
"Roger", Dave called out... symbolically we had chosen to meet beneath the statue of Balmat and Saussure in Chamonix to mark the start of our alpine adventures. Dave was in the bar opposite... but I guess it was close enough. I had spent the previous week with Annie, walking up glaciers, hiking to huts and such like; all very pleasant, nothing to onerous, however I sensed things were to change as Dave bounced up and down with his usual enthusiasm.
Day 2 Sunday
Seeing Annie off from the train station, I joked that I'd happily swap places... oh how we laughed! Her train departed and Dave and I wandered into town for coffee, moments later the heavens opened; and the contents of Lake Geneva cascaded onto the main street. Huddled under a café umbrella serious plans were being hatched; another croissant or shopping for gear.
By 4pm the rain had stopped and we broke camp from les Praz with the idea of walking up the Mer de Glace as far as possible by nightfall. Having stowed surplus gear under a rock, we wounded are through the forest to reach Montenvers by early evening, then tottered down the ladders to the glacier. Light was fading as we crunched up the ice looking for a suitable pitch, it started to rain... too icy... too lumpy... too likely to rock fall... Finding a good spot was proving difficult. Eventually somewhere safe and flat'ish; the tent was soon up and tea was cooking.
A cold night... oh yes... but at least we had good sleeping bags... well at least Dave did... obviously my sub-conscious had decided that I'd be far too warm and it was best to leave my bag under the rock in the valley!
Day 3 Monday
A beautiful day... we continued up to Refuge du Requin. The objective was to climb some of the classics on the Dent du Requin; unfortunately we were to be disappointed, as on arrival the Guardian advised us that recent days the routes had received a treacherous covering of snow. Nevertheless we set-up camp, cooked a meal and returned to the hut for beer and free prunes!
On the basis that Dave (at least) was too young to die, our original plan was shelved. Instead we decided to walk up to the Cosmiques Refuge, then the following day complete the Midi Plan Traverse, dropping down the Glacier d'Envers du Plan to recover the tent on the way back to Chamonix... at least that was the plan.
Day 4 Tuesday
Blessed with perfect weather we weaved are way through the Seracs du Geant, past the Petit and Gros Rognon's and on towards the Refuge des Cosmiques. The heat and altitude was taking its toll (on me at least) and we took frequent rests... but at least it allowed us to enjoy the magnificent views. Overall this was a splendid journey through some impressive scenery, made all the more pleasant by a night in a 'warm' hut.
Day 5 Wednesday
The Midi Plan Traverse - starting early we out on our own; but it was not long before we were jockeying for belays with numerous French Guides as they swarmed over the slopes with clients in tow. The route took us up and down snow ridges, with some good mixed scrambling and an excellent panorama; although only graded PD it seemed harder in the heat and deteriorating snow conditions.
Our descent point was reached... however the Glacier d'Envers du Plan resembled a large bowl of melting ice cream. The Guides was advising against its descent; so with mixed feelings we had to retraced our steps back to Aiguille Du Midi for 6.00pm. The last cable car was scheduled for 5.30pm; but the exceptional number of tourists that day (4,500, that's around £120,000 in receipts) meant it kept operating till 7 pm.
Once down in the valley we now had no accommodation, nor change of clothes. Fortunately we spotted an adverted for the Red Mountain Lodge; an exclusive ski lodge in winter, which was just kept ticking over in summer; and at 16E for B&B it was a bargain.
Day 5 Thursday
Chamonix... well I had a tough day - washing clothes, drinking coffee and lounging around watching the Lodge's massive TV... oh and Dave... well he ran up and down to Requin Hut in a howling gale to collect our gear! He returned at 11 pm.
Day 6 Friday
Rained: A well deserved rest day... all that washing certainly took its toll!
Day 7 Saturday
Morning: We set up camp at Les Molliasses; a site towards the tunnel end of Chamonix.
Afternoon: Climbing at Gaillands... a stark contrast to the mountains... and surely climbing at its worst... bolted, soulless and very busy; but at least it was hot and made for a good rest day.
Day 8 Sunday
'Papillion's (West) Ridge'... what's that about a flap of butterfly's wings creating chaos eleswhere! A few lessons were handed out here... for a start; multiply the guidebook lengths route by 3... this was described as 400 metre climb... err what about the other 800 metres? The route lived up to its classic status; scrambling, easy climbing, through to aided pitches. Most of the route had been completed when the weather took a turn for the worst... rain and gusty wind on an exposed ridge. "Lets get out of here"... we reversed the previous three pitches to an escape gully; three abseils and progress was being made... but the cloud was closing in and light was fading fast.
Scrambling down a steep, grassy, broken slope and we found some abseil tat. It was now dark. The ropes were set and thrown; and off Dave disappeared into the night. 20-30 minutes pass. "Dave are you OK... Dave?"... the rope was still tight... perhaps too tight... Mmmm... where's my knife... thoughts of a book... a film... fame... money... dancing girls!
The rope twitched... and continued to do so for next 45 minutes; Dave was coming back up! A head-torch appeared. Then a cry... a light arcing down... down into darkness. Oh my God!! He's fallen off... and that Brie in his rucksack was just coming ripe!
'Touching The Cheese'... perfect... it's what Dave would have wanted.
"DAVE! DAVE!!"... the rope starting twitching again... the torch had been knocked from his head. Dave exhausted clambered back to the belay. He couldn't reach the ground; the ropes had to be retrieved... they jammed!... we couldn't see a damn thing... it was 11.30pm.
'Is someone trying to tell us something?'
Decision time... right or wrong... we chose to bivi. Sure it was going to be cold, but the rain had stopped, we had food and in the morning we'd be able to see what we were doing. A rocky trough gave some a shelter; we munched on cheese, bread and chocolate and made ourselves as comfortable as possible. However, this was to be longest 6 hours that I care to forget. It started to rain... then snow... err... this wasn't in the plan... Shiver... I looked at my watch still 5 hours till daybreak... Shiver... where are those dancing girls now!
Day 9 Monday
6:30am... "we need to move or we're going to be snowballs" Dave announced to a small green plant he'd been talking to most of the night... or was it my imagination. What 6 hours ago had been dry rock was now covered with two inches of snow. Slowly we slithered down to the abseil point, set the ropes and with benefit of light, took two further abseils to safety below. Of course the afternoon was glorious and the remainder of the day was spent drinking beer and dozing outside the tent.
Day 10 Tuesday
Rest day... the weather was poor anyway
"I know it's wrong... but I must Luge" Dave announced to the world... as long as this did not involve a marmot and a large quantity of olive oil then I was very happy for him. The Luge being that hideous 1,820m toboggan running along side the Montenvers mountain railway. Despite my initial scepticism this was great fun, my only regret being that I was unable to shoulder an excessively heavy pack all day.
Day 11 Wednesday
A lousy morning... rain and low cloud led to a late start... catching the cablecar back to the Aiguille De Midi for three further days in the Vallee Blanche.
It was late afternoon and we were the last party to start the 'Cosmiques Arête'... well at least we have it to ourselves. What an excellent route and what a beautiful sunset... I thought... Mmmm... perhaps we shouldn't be here at sunset! Enviously I spied campers below enjoying their evening meal. Looking back to Dave... he was struggling with the aided pitch... we were losing the light and by the time I'd followed through it was dark.
Two options; a chimney or an open corner with a funky traverse. Neither of us fancied the chimney so it was left to Dave to do the corner; even with head torches this was proving tricky.
Eventually, lights from the De Midi windows and a ladder leading to the viewing platform; it was midnight. Two weeks earlier I'd been here with Annie basking in the sun; it now seemed a lifetime ago.
A heavy metal door barred access to the Aiguille De Midi station; it appeared to be locked... sure enough it would not budge... push, pull, and some 'gentle' encouragement with ice axes... but to no avail... was this to be another cold night? The Door and Dave continued their battle and the Door was winning. Then the door handle came off... "err I don't think that's suppose to happen!". The handle was screwed back on... the door swung open and a gust of hot air enveloped us. Down the stairs and there was our accommodation... the toilets... nice... but at least they were warm.
Day 12 Thursday
7.00am we were the first party out of the station, straight into the sunrise and down to the Vallee Blanche... truly awesome. That morning we completed a pleasant snowy scramble leading to the Refuge des Cosmiques to enjoy bowls of hot chocolate. Then in the afternoon we completed a traverse of Pnte Lachenal... a good snowy route with a couple of unnerving pitches on crumbly rock.
That night we camped in the Vallee Blanche... toasting a spectacular sunset and our success / survival to date with a fine 2 litre bottle of wine and plum pie.
Day 13 Friday
The Gros Rognon... this resembles a huge wedge of cheese; and is the central station for the cable car from the Aiguille Du Midi to Helbronner. It is a restricted area with no right of access for tourists; but a number of routes are recorded in the guidebook.
A rather loose start on the West face improved as we gained height, developing into a good snow slope and then a ridge to the cable car station. We now had to get across the cable car gap... timing was critical... look left, then right, then left again... I clambered across to the other side... at this point a guard started shouting at Dave to stop. Being roped together and with an impending cable car bearing down on him prevented compliance with his request! A now rather agitated guard was shouting, "you must not be here" and "we do not sell tickets". Dave attempted to explain that we were climbers, not day-trippers who had inadvertently disembarked from a cable car... meanwhile the guard was phoning for reinforcements.
Visions of ending the holiday in a police cell flashed before me. Fortunately his associate was more chilled... "very few climbers come up here" he explained... "British... ah yes that would explain it... we could continue". Dave and I pointed down the steep, chossey snow slope we intended to descend. They looked at one another, and then to us... nothing needed to be said.
They remained with Dave whilst I down climbed the first pitch... obviously he deserved companionship during these final moments.
Eventually back down to safety and a race back to Aiguille Du Midi to catch the last car down.
Day 14 Saturday
Our last day and we decided to finish on a classic bit of rock... with an easy up and down day using the cable car.
'Sub Arête' above the Index lift... another excellent route, the description of which had been written under the influence of a powerful hallucinogenic. Dave and myself, completed pitch after pitch of outstanding climbing. Topping out at 6 pm (the cable car stopped at 4.30pm) would allow us to enjoy another long walk back. Ah well not to worry... According to the guide it was only 45 minutes back to the main path... another lie... at least 1.45 hours.
It took a further 2.45 hours through the forest and back to Chamonix for beers, and possibly the scariest bit of our whole trip... staggering into town around 11pm... an Umpa band playing a rendition of 'Y.M.C.A'... men in leather shorts and feathered hats on trombones... only now have I been able to come to terms with this.
Day 15 Sunday
Returned to UK; Roger plus beard, Dave less surgical gloves!
Roger Daley
September 2006
