Trip Reports - Italy 2002

Part Two - Mount Blanc (Part One - The Matterhorn)

We spent the next four days in Chamonix, France and Zermatt, Switzerland. We loved Chamonix, the birthplace of mountaineering. It is a beautiful city at the foot of the Alps, surrounded by high snowy peaks. It is an easy place to be. Food and wine are good, the people are friendly, and prices are reasonable.

Zermatt lies at the opposite side of the Matterhorn from Cervinia, Italy. Switzerland is beautiful, but very expensive. We attempted to climb the Breithorn from the Swiss side, but the weather turned foul again.

Our return to Italy to meet Jan and Henry was a frustrating series of trains, buses, and taxis that took the entire day. We checked into our hotel on the Italian side of Mount Blanc in the small village of Courmayer.

Wednesday, September 11, 2002. Courmayer, Italy. Hotel Pilier D' Angle

Enlarge group photo

Today was the day of final preparations for our climb. We slept in. Jackie and I went down to breakfast at 08:30. Around 10:00, we knocked on Jan and Henry's door. I reminded them the shops typically closed in the middle of the day, and we still had business to attend to.

We walked the half hour into town around 11:00. We went first to the store which rented climbing gear. I wanted better boots for this climb. I was prepared for rock, but not deep snow and ice. It appeared they were doing end of the season inventory. They would not rent boots until 3:30 in the afternoon. Next  we went to the bus station to check the schedule. Too late, all the offices were closed until 14:30. "Reservations required" read the sign - we knew better - you just pay the driver. One thing was apparent - there were no buses on Sunday. We planned to come down from the climb on Saturday. If so, we needed to catch the bus back to Courmayer Saturday night. We arranged for the stay with the hotel when we returned.

Next - lunch. I watched where the locals went. All the workmen gravitated to one restaurant. I figured the best deals were to be had there. We took a table and all had the "lunch special". First course spaghetti, second course chicken in mushroom sauce. Next dessert. A filling meal.

See larger image of town

Next business - I needed cash for the climb. Hut fees, lift fees, a tip for the guide. We tried to get a cash advance on our Mastercard, but two Bancomats refused it. We went   into one bank, but they wouldn't do it either. Frustration. In desperation went into a second bank (the only other one) -  who advanced us the money without a problem.

We waited for gear store to open at 15:30, and I rented plastic boots. My crampons just fit them so I was set to go. On the way home, we stopped at a supermarket and bought cheese, carrots, lettuce, pickled vegetables, salami, 2 bottles of wine, chocolate, and some San Pelegrino water. Returning to our rooms, we packed our climbing gear, all but a few items. Thankfully, we were going light and it easily fit the first time.

View larger photo of the mountain

We met for dinner at 19:30 on Henry's terrace. The skies were overcast. Rain could be seen on distant mountains. The clouds were dark on Mount Blanc. We ate, drank, and talked into night. Eric, Jan's - (now our) guide arrives in the  morning at 08:00. Jackie will go to Chamonix to wait for us, maybe drive Eric's car there. We have questions about her needing a drivers license, we'll find out in the morning. Now to sleep - if able.

Thursday, September 12, 2002. Cosmic Hut, Mount Blanc. 11,850 feet.

See larger view of Henry and Wayne

I slept little last night. I went to bed  for a short while, then awoke with the hiccups. For half an hour they tormented me, then my stomach exploded and I spent a good portion of the night in the bathroom. I got little rest, blaming the episode on too much wine with dinner. It was only the start of my tribulations.

I'd barely got to sleep when my alarm went off. This was one hell of a hangover. I took some Advil, a vitamin, and went down to breakfast. I tried to eat enough to make up for what I'd lost last night. Thank God for European coffee. I went back to the room and finalized my packing.

Enlarge photo of Wayne

Eric arrived a little after 08:00. We made introductions and he reviewed our gear. Boots - check. Crampons - check. Ice ax - check. Warm clothes - check. Water and food - check. Ropes - check. Ice screws - check. I knew we were in for something when he passed out the avalanche transceivers. "There has been a lot of snow". We left the hotel around 09:00, drove / walked to the lift station. We squeezed into a cable car with a  group of other climbers -  Italians, apparently military from their outfits. It took 3 lifts to reach the tiny station at Pointe Helbrunner, gaining almost 10,000 feet of elevation. Jackie rode up the cable cars with us to see us off.

See larger group photo

We stopped here in the tiny restaurant. "From here, we cross the glacier" Eric informed us "It will be more fun this way!". I'd been well prepared for the Matterhorn. I'd studied the route thoroughly. I had some idea of what to expect, the landmarks, and the difficulties. For this climb, I'd had only a brief glance at Henry's map. I'd assumed we'd take the cable cars to their highest point to maximize our chances of gaining the summit and conserve our strength. That highest point lay across the great expanse of the glaciers which cover the higher portions of the mountain. O.K., a little walk may do me some good, give me a chance to recover.

View larger image of us roping

It took about an hour to get a cup of hot chocolate, learn how to work the transceivers and gear up. Jackie snapped a few photos before we left. Outside - total arctic conditions. Thick rime ice coated everything like a freezer badly in need of defrosting. There were quite a lot of people near the station, forming rope teams and getting ready. One large group was here to prepare for a trip to Antarctica. Though the weather was predicted to become clear, visibility was dropping. Soon all would be white.

We started out across the glacier in two teams - Jan and Eric leading, Henry and I behind. We departed alongside several other roped teams all heading in the same general direction. Within just a few minutes a woman on the team beside us, third in line behind two much larger men, punched through a crevasse up to her waist. Wow, that was a wake up! Shortly thereafter, our team split off from all the others wandering into an area no one else seemed interested in.. Visibility was poor and they soon faded from sight. We were now alone. Snow blew mixed with sleet as we started a gentle descent into unseen territory.

We wound across the enormous glaciers, weaving around crevasses, more than I'd ever imagined. Sometimes we saw the huge, deep, gaping blue holes. Many times we'd step over smaller ones or push a ski pole into an unseen void. I could not believe how far we were walking. The snow was getting deeper and our progress slow.

The whiteness cleared briefly and I saw ahead a jagged sea of great ice fissures and rises, a maze of frozen anger that I would have regretted entering without an expert. Eric navigated us through it like it was something he did every day, just a walk through his back yard on a familiar trail. Without him I thought, we would quickly lose our way and perish to become just a minor footnote in some French newspaper.

See larger image of formation

Every so often the visibility would improve and some huge monolithic point of rock would appear out of the whiteness. Eric would describe where we were and the many climbing routes on each of them before they faded ghostlike and disappeared. Were it not for the effort it would have been more beautiful. Instead I labored, fighting weakness and wondered if I would make it to the hut.

We climbed gently but steadily for the latter part of the day. One foot in front of the other. Often Jan and Eric would  fade from view as they moved ahead of us. Henry and I nervously noticed their footprints filling with snow so fast we worried about losing our way but then it would clear a bit and we'd hustle to close the distance.

Enlarge photo of Eric and Jan

Finally, the Cosmic Hut appeared, perched high on a rocky spire, much larger and nicer than I expected. The last climb to reach it was quite steep and when I finally arrived I was so tired I just stood there for a while trying to believe what we'd just done. Then, it all turned white again.

We entered the hut and stowed our gear. It is well designed to accommodate the large number of climbers and skiers that use it throughout the year. There are places to store all your equipment before you enter the inner confines of the building. Next we found our bunk room. The room had two tiers of beds which allows about 12 people to share the small space. Room assignments are made according to time of departure so all persons in a room wake at the same time.

See larger photo of the Cosmic Hut

You are provided a bunk indicated by a number, a pad to sleep on, a small green pillow and a blanket. I climbed into mine as soon as I arrived and stayed there for the rest of the afternoon. I got a few minutes of sleep, but there were people in and out. It felt good just to lay down. My pulse raced and would not slow down. I was becoming quite concerned something serious was going wrong with me. Could it be the altitude? This is misery.

At 18:00 we met at one of the large tables in the dining room. We were provided a big bowl, a plate, and silverware. There are probably 60 people around us seated at their wooden tables. Bread and cheese arrived. This was followed by a huge bowl of onion soup. Delicious. A pitcher of red wine was passed. Next came peas, rice, and curried chicken. Apple pie and tea followed. Not bad for a restaurant at 3613 meters.

See large image of our path

I ate what I could but am not well. My pulse is racing at 100 bpm. I feel weak and apathetic. It could be the altitude, but I was ill last night. My breathing is fine, I was never short of breath on the climb. But I was so weak. Unless this resolves I will not climb tomorrow.

The weather continues to look poor.  Eric has been speaking to a couple other guides. There is a lot of snow up higher. The danger of avalanche is great. We are waiting for an updated forecast to see if we can go up. There winds are also extreme up higher. There is much danger to evaluate. The wind is blowing, the sky keeps going white and gray.

Eric will check the weather at 02:00. If good, they will go up. If not, they will wait until 07:00. Maybe they can climb a little higher. But reaching the summit is probably out of the question. If things don't change for me, I won't risk climbing tomorrow and holding everyone else back. All I can think to do is get to a lower altitude. Unfortunately I am trapped here in the hut. Though the lift station is not too distant, there is a crevasse field between it and the hut. I cannot cross it unroped. I must wait until I can travel with a team to go down and hope my problems resolve on descent.

Friday, September 13, 2002. 22:11. Chamonix, France. Pointe Isabelle Hotel

After dinner, I returned to my bunk, sleeping some, awakening when people came into and out of the room, or passed by talking in the hallway. Gradually the room filled and the hut became quiet except for the man in the bunk next to me snoring. I was near a window and though dark, I watched to see if the skies would clear. Stars would show the weather had improved, but an opaque whiteness was all I saw. The wind rose and fell, howling and whining, sometimes rattling the building. Eric slept next to me, Jan and Henry occupied bunks below. I drifted in and out of sleep.

View larger photo of the dawn

At 02:00 alarms started going off. As the night wore on I had listened to the sound of the wind gradually fade, and now the skies appeared clear. People were up getting dressed and packing. Eric hopped down and went outside to get a better assessment of the conditions. He returned shortly and said "It's good, we go".

I hopped down from the bunk, got a few things together, then went downstairs for breakfast. I was still feeling weak, my heart was still racing, but I did feel a little better, enough to believe I could make a decent effort. I forced down a bowl of cereal, a little juice, and drank a large bowl of strong coffee. The caffeine cleared my head and for the first time I started to think I would be O.K.

Henry and Jan came down , nervous and excited, ate quickly and we proceeded to the gear room to get dressed. I layered on the fleece, fixed my headlamp to my helmet, turned on my avalanche transceiver, laced up my plastic boots and went outside into the soft snow to lace on my crampons. It was about -7C (14 F) and quiet outside in the still of the darkness. Henry came out soon after and we tied together with our rope.

Eric and Jan led the way, following the path down form the hut and out onto the great flat of the glacier worn by those who had departed earlier. As we crossed the flat plain of the glacier I could see the headlamps of half a dozen other teams spaced at various points on the route ahead, some already as high as constellations. As we neared the point where our path shot upwards, I glanced that way to see several lights cascading down - a team had fallen. I watched as the flashes of their headlamps traced their long descent and wondered if they would ever stop. Finally I saw the flashes of light had reached a steady spot, the movement indicating they were alive, though they did not move much from where they had landed. I saw a second string of lights start descending towards them and then we started to go up.

Enlarge sunrise photo

The slope was steep. Those before us had kicked steps into it, but the soft snow on top fell into them trying to fill them up again. I tried my best to place my feet in the same steps used before. To miss one was to go into the soft snow which would break away under my weight. The slope grew still steeper as we ascended, so steep I would not have thought it possible to climb up it with this much loose snow, but here we were doing it. We first cut a great arc from left to right to get above a giant crevasse, then the way became steeper with occasional zigs and zags to avoid still more crevasses and severe areas. At a point we arrived beneath a sheer ice and snow wall. Here the path traversed back left across the vertical face upwards, the shear wall dropping off into a black void below.

Show larger image of Mount Blanc

Eric and Jan went first. Henry and I paused to let a solo British climber pass ahead of us (as we felt we were so slow), then I started up the traverse. It was so steep I sunk the pick of my ax into the wall above and in front of my head, then planted my crampons into the narrow ice shelf below. Step by step we made our way across. (Please don't fall here Henry). About 40 feet or so into the traverse the climber ahead of us had stopped. In quite a panic he looked down at me and said " I should have put my crampons on". Sure enough, he hung there from his single ax with naked boots. With no one to rope to, and only one ax for protection, a slip would be disastrous if not deadly. We worked up and across, finally reaching the top of the cliff where Eric and Jan waited. The Brit., thankful to have survived, paused to put on his crampons, and from then on was content to follow Henry and me.

View larger image of Eric and Jan

We crossed a big crevasse, stepping down onto a narrow snow bridge, our headlamps unable to penetrate the dark depths, then climbed up the other side and continued up. So it went, never ending, always upward, always another steep slope ahead until finally we reached the ridge that lead to the top of this peak just as the sun was coming up.

We paused here as Eric surveyed the next peak, the Mount Maudit, which lay between us and the final summit peak beyond. He spoke with other parties that had gone ahead, but had turned back as there was so much snow. "It's too dangerous to go on, too great a chance of slab avalanche" Eric said. "Maybe we make it up this side of the Maudi, but the other side will be worse". It was evident to all of us seeing the huge wall of steep snow ahead, a large crevasse cracking it loose at the top. We watched a couple of teams start up, then turn back.

Enlarge view of group

Now with the rising sun, we could finally see all around us. The snow glowed golden in the early light. A sea of white cloud covered Italy on the far side of the mountain. In the distance innumerable peaks thrust through it including the distant Matterhorn. The wind was calm, the skies clear, a perfect morning.

I was relieved we would not go further towards the great summit. To reach it, we would have to first climb down from our ridge, then scale the Mount Maudit, climb down the far side, then start up again for the final summit of Mount Blanc- a long, long way. It had taken all I had to arrive here, I doubt I could have gone on to attempt so great a feat. Thankfully, we would be content with the first of the the three great summits, the Mount Blanc du Tacul.

View larger photo of Henry and Jan

We started up the broad ridge towards the rocky summit above. The snow was firmer here, compacted by the fierce winds which blew across these high places. Other teams were already descending as we plodded upwards, the way less steep now. Finally, we arrived beneath the rocky summit. We scrambled up the granite boulders, snow and ice filing the cracks and voids between them. Crampon points grabbed securely on the cold hard stone. Weaving a path under, around and over the rocks, the small platform at the summit finally appeared. And then, we stood atop the world on Mount Blanc du Tacul - 4262 meters (13979.36 feet).

See larger photo of Eric and Jan

Conditions were ideal, I tried my best to enjoy them. We took a few photos and admired the views. Eric identified the surrounding landmarks. We spent maybe 20 minutes before we put  our packs on and started back down.

The descent was quicker of course, but just as, if not more exciting as we could now see what we had come through in the darkness. I was in bad shape. Weak and stumbling, it took all my effort to keep going ahead. I tried to eat a little, but the power bar just sat in my mouth like dirt and I could not swallow it. I could barely drink water, and even so it was with much burping and retching. I had to get down.

View larger image of group

The path was now in much worse condition. Many more parties were coming up and the snow was loose from all the traffic. Our feet plunged downward hoping the snow would hold where we stepped, though too often it gave way. We re-crossed the deep crevasse and noted the narrow snow bridge had a large crack in it, half of it fallen away. We had not seen this going the other way in the darkness. We crossed the ice wall traverse, then continued steeply downward. With one deep step, the snow gave way and I started sliding. Henry drove his ax into the wall and the rope held me. I scrambled to gain footing and we started down again. Shortly thereafter Henry broke free and I drove my ax into the snow to catch him. On and on we went downward, stepping off the path into the the deep snow to let those ascending pass. Nearing the bottom of the slope Henry and I took a a brief slide together. This time we could see the flat of the glacier below and would probably have been O.K. if we had not been able to arrest our fall.

Finally, we were off the slope and onto the flat of the glacier. We paused to shed some clothing now that the sun was upon us. I was running on empty and had run out of water. Henry shared his with me on the way back. We crossed towards the Cosmic Hut and on to the Pointe du Midi where the cable car would take us down into Chamonix.

The last of the trek was the worst. The cable car station sits hundreds of feet above the glacier on a rocky peak. We could either climb the rock or take a long circuit on the snow that arced around and upwards to gain the top. Too weak for the climb, looking for the easiest way out, I suggested we do the walk. Maybe, the climb would have been easier.

See larger image of glacier crossing

Henry and I plodded up the trail. Climb a steep spot, then rest. Another steep spot, another rest. It was so slow. We were so tired. At the very end, the path follows a knife edge ridge on the final climb to the station. About 1.5 feet wide, the mountain fell away to the right all the way to Chamonix, thousands of feet below. On the left, another sheer drop hundreds of feet into a gaping maw of great crevasses. Eric advised, "If one of you falls off one side, the other must jump off the other". Weak and wobbling, Henry said from behind "Please don't fall". I assured him it was an integral part of my plan, though I wondered if he fell behind me, how would I know which way to jump? 50 - 50 chance of getting it right.

Enlarge view of our climb

We finally gained the base of the cable car station and stowed out climbing gear in our packs in an ice tunnel that led into the bowels of the mountain. Thought the others we joyous with celebration and wanted to pause for drinks and such, I urged them on to descend as soon as possible. We got a few pictures, surveyed where we had come, and then packed into a cable car for the ride to the Chamonix valley below.

It took two lifts to reach the town. The car was packed so tight I couldn't really see out the windows, though I was feeling so poorly I wouldn't have enjoyed the views as much as those that could see them. We walked from the cable car station to the train station, then into town to the Pointe Isabelle Hotel. We checked in and took Eric to lunch. The rest of the day was spent walking about the town, drinking beer, eating and enjoying Chamonix. We all liked the town and vow to return here. It is so dramatic, so romantic, so - Chamonix! It would be a couple more days before I recovered from my plague. I guess it wasn't the altitude after all, or maybe the longest hangover recorded. What ever, I was down and the climbing was done.

(Part One - The Matterhorn)

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