The Vallee Blanche

The descent ridge from the Midi station

With the Chamonix peaks plastered in snow we forgot about rock climbing and dragged the ice tools out from the bottom of the boot. There was a three day weather window forecasted so we packed bivy kit and extra food and got the bin up to the Aiguille du Midi. From there we made our way towards the Triangle du Tacul.

Chere Couloir climbs the right-hand side of the central rock buttress

Both Cam and I had always wanted to do the Chere Couloir, and it looked in good nick, so we left our bags below the 'schrund and daggered up to the first belay. I led the first proper pitch of straightforward ice, then Cam shot up a quick mixed chimney to get a better belay below the steep bit. This next pitch was the crux of the route and Cam did a great job leading it. Although 85 degrees in places it took screws well and Staples and I both seconded it no worries.

Looking down from the second belay

 

Cam leading the crux pitch

 

Staples following the crux

 

The final hard pitch wasn't quite as sustained but still had a steep wall near the top, 80 degrees or Scottish IV maybe. I'm not amazing (ie I'm shite) at ice climbing, but I gave it a go anyway, and found it completely piss. It's all in the head (probably good conditions help as well...). My frontpoints felt solid wherever I kicked them, first time tool placements, I even started enjoying myself a bit. A final sprint up easy snow led to the belay at the end of the difficulties, and we abbed back down to the Vallee Blanche, very psyched for the next couple of days.

At the top of the hard climbing

A freezing bivy later, in my stripped out tent and three-season sleeping bags (apart from Staples, the bastard), and we were gearing up early to tackle the North Face of Tour Ronde - a relatively modest snow and ice climb up a 3700-odd meter peak on the other side of the glacier.

Our bivy on the Vallee Blanche

The 'schrund was a nightmare. An overhang of unconsolidated snow, footholds crumbling the moment you weighted them. It set the tone.

We moved together for a while but conditions were pretty bad, so we traversed over to a rock rib on the right-side of the snowfield and pitched our way up to the crux narrowing, Cam in front, Staples and I grovelling behind. Here the ice was actually pretty good, and we briefly hoped it would remain until the top of the face. But when we emerged to the final slopes it was into utter powdery toss once more. Moving together again, we thrashed our way upwards, kicking collapsing steps, comedy tool placements sliding in the mush before us. Eventually we gained the base of the summit block, looked at the direct finish, though 'sod that', and skulked round the back to find the easy scramble to the top.

On the summit of Tour Ronde

We were all tired after swimming up the face and just wanted to be down as quick as possible. Unfortunately, Cam suffered a slip during an abseil, and injured his ankle badly enough to require airlifting to hospital. He disappeared into the sky hanging from the mountain rescue helicopter, and Staples and I continued in a very slow fashion down the ridge. We were shaken up, we were exhausted. By the time we regained the glacier it was far too late to think about getting the bin back down, and the shelter had gone with Cam. So instead we trudged down the Vallee Blanche towards Montenvers, finally collapsing and bivying on choss in the region of the Envers Hut.

Looking down at the SE ridge, which Staples and I descended

The next day we descended the Mer de Glace and caught the train back to Cham to find Cam in crutches but still smiling at least. We drank much beer and tried to forget.

What next, then?