Page Type:
Date Climbed/Hiked:
Activities:
Season:
Comments
No comments posted yet.
Go South, Young Man...
3AM. Bitter cold. I lay there mummified in all my clothes, a silk liner, a –5-rated down sleeping bag and a fully zipped-up Gore-Tex bivi bag, and still my teeth were chattering uncontrollably. It was quite a while before my brain could exert enough influence on my hands to reach up and undo the bivi bag, but on doing so I realised exactly why I felt like I’d been sleeping in a large deep-freeze. In effect, I had. Our pleasant-seeming bivi site below the 3131m Aiguille Dibona in the Massif Des Ecrins had become virtually buried in several inches of fresh snow. The plan had been a 400m rock route on the aforesaid peak, but this prospect now seemed somewhat doubtful. My 2 companions slowly shivered into life and we agreed that perhaps this wasn’t the day. Perhaps the forecast had been wrong. Mixed routes in the Northern Corries? Maybe. But sun-kissed rock climbs in the Alps? Nosir! So, carefully, we uncovered our gear from beneath this all-encompassing white blanket, being careful not to leave helmets there in the belief that they were rocks, (or indeed carry rocks down in the belief that they were helmets), and trekked back down to the valley.It was a little frustrating in a way, since the very reason for our move South to the Ecrins had been the supposed good weather. My first trip to Chamonix had been successful so far – some acclimatisation in the ‘Rouges and on Aiguille Du Tour, and a rock route on the Chamonix Aiguilles had all been achieved with little mishap. We were all feeling hopelessly optimistic until a visit to the OHM in Chamonix for our regular forecast-check. Apparently the next few days would be abominable (or French words to that affect) on the high peaks, and the valley would be more rainy than a typical day in Betws-y-Coed.
We had all agreed that it would be better to at least try to achieve something in the face of this miserable prediction rather than hang around like rats just before they got drowned and causing a severe depletion in Chamonix’s beer reserves. So we had travelled here two days before via a scenic yet travel-sickness-inducing journey, the endless switchbacks taken at hair-raising speeds accompanied with by the clatter of ambient drum and bass music putting me in mind of a rally-driving computer game I used to play.
The Ecrins, not least the village of La Berarde where our tents now resided, was half a world away from Chamonix, and I don’t just mean it took ages to get there. At the end of a long, narrow road that took in villages with barely enough space to pass through and winding, unlit tunnels hewn into the rocks, La Berade nestles in the shadow of rugged, rocky cliffs that eventually rear up to become the Ecrins’ highest peaks, among them the majestic Barre Des Ecrins (4102m) and the serious, inhospitable La Meije (3983m). The latter I had previously seen on a snowboarding holiday in Les Deux Alpes, and had set my sights on its AD-graded traverse, which according to the guidebook takes 12 hours. Our optimism had been restored.
La Berarde has no telepheriques, which certainly gets you fit, and is generally more “Sound of Music” than over-priced tourist/skier fleshpot. Despite our early setback the Ecrins are known to benefit from their Southerly position, allowing the Mont Blanc massif to soak up all the Siberian storms and then selfishly hogging all that Mediterranean sunshine. The summer season here is often known to start earlier, too, some routes having shed the signs of winter by May.
The Dibona was eventually “sent” two days later. The walk up was enjoyable this time, made better by the fact the sun hadn’t hit us yet. The striking rock architecture, with the distinctive spike of the Dibona and the blank wall of its South Face (TD) dropping away steeply to the Soreiller Hut 400 metres below, was causing my mind to get a little carried away – I was going to be down the wall every day as soon as I got back home, be leading E7 by October and…. you get the idea. It’s an inspiring place, you see.
The Boell Route on the Aiguille Dibona, graded AD, is a twisting girdle-traverse-cum-ascent of this impressive mountain, winding it’s way round terraces, across faces and up couloirs with a liberal smattering of interesting 4+ pitches. Much of it is possible for a competent party to move together on, stopping to set up belays for the enjoyable steeper sections. This, however, was our first alpine season and “competent” was not a word anyone would have associated with us, unless preceded by some form of negation. This day, like many in one’s first alpine season, was spiced up by some monumental faffing at which I now cringe and shake my head in pained disbelief. At one point, when I was halfway up a tricky little wall, one of our number quite rightly suggested that moving together on ground like this was not the wisest idea ever. Shouting something like “You don’t half choose your moments!” I stopped, set up a hanging belay and waited for the other two to sort the ropes out.
This was perhaps insignificant, however, as even the Ecrins, during this short but fine weather-window and on a lower-grade route such as this, were not immune to that very alpine phenomenon - queuing. In fact, as we reached a large couloir that disappeared into the Dibona’s South face, it seemed that several routes merged into one, and operating on the same principle as the M25, creating a severe bottleneck. We spent a long time waiting behind a French guy who kept grunting and shouting as he hauled himself up the rocks (on French Grade 3, that is!). At least it made us feel better about our own ability.
Several more fine 4+ pitches saw us topping out on the magnificent summit. We stood on the pinnacle with steep rock walls falling away on every side of us, the rocky mass of Massif Du Soreiller looming large behind us and a view to the South rivalling any in Chamonix – maybe not quite so high and dangerous-looking, but rocky, expansive and awesome in the soft early-evening light. And the view-point we stood on couldn’t have been better. If you don’t like exposure, don’t touch the Dibona even if you happen to possess a 400-metre barge pole. If you do, it makes Crib Goch or striding edge seem like an expansive upland plateau and a fine spot for a round of golf.
Depsite our eventual success, we decided that the 12-hour traverse of La Meije we’d had planned was a little too much to ask – it could well have ended up closer to 36. Someday, though - definitely. We’d be back. The Ecrins offer a fantastic alternative to more accessible yet overcrowded areas such as Chamonix. As well as the sole 4,000-er (Barre Des Ecrins) there are a host of others packed with routes thought to possess some of the finest rock in the Alps – Le Rateau, Massif De Soreiller and Dome Neige Des Ecrins are but three names you should take note of. In short the Ecrins are a little-known gem, and well worth a trip. And back in Cham no one had done a thing – except one guy who had raced up Petit Aiguille Verte in the pouring rain – and all seemed a little gloomy. Well worth it, then.