Some Ice

Lac Montriond Icefalls

So skiing is kinda fun and everything, but sometimes you just have to haul yourself up walls of ice with spikes to get your jollies. With the chaos of half term in a ski resort looming me and my climbing buddy George are pretty keen to avoid queuing for ages to get on chairlifts, or skiing down pistes with a million other twats all trying to be on the same square foot of snow as you. It's been pretty cold lately so we decide to hike up to the icefalls that form above Lac Montriond to see if any are fat enough to climb.....

Ice climbing superstars/gormless tits

The main icefall looks absolutely nails, like Scottish VI, but there's an easier angled bit to the left that we aim for. I grab the rack and get going. It's almost immediately steeper than it looks from below - who knew??? But the ice is in pretty good nick, and I make fast progress up to a mini cave fringed with icicles. The next bit is plumb vertical, and I start to get a bit nervous. Spend ages fiddling around trying to thread a sling around the thickest icicles. Clip the bastard. Tenuous traverse to the left to the hard bit. Fuck me it's steep.....

Double-tapping screws below the crux

I think about building a belay and making George lead it, but that would kinda be a dick move, so instead I place two screws in some pretty good ice and keep going. Steep moves, I hack away at the ice trying to find good placements. Shuffle my feet higher. Just as I'm starting to get slightly (ok, massively) pumped and scared I sink my right tool into some mega snow-ice and I'm kicking my way to an easier angle and a welcome rest. Now the only problem is I've got just two screws remaining and there's still about 20m left of pretty steep ice.

Bugger.

Run out fun out near the top

I climb 70-80 degree ice as far as I can stand then plug in a screw. It's a good placement but sadly it's also a fucking stubby and doesn't inspire much confidence. But I want to save my remaining long screw for the top bit, which looks pretty bastard steep from where I am, teetering miserably on my frontpoints and wishing I had more bloody screws. Anyway, off I go, climbing to just below the last vertical bit, where I find out that one of the teeth of my last screw is fucking broken. It takes ages to drill the cunt in, by which point I'm basically knackered and wondering if I should just stop delaying the innevitable and throw myself off.....

Looking back down the pitch

There's some exposed rock to the left, so I shuffle over and manage to fiddle in a couple of uninspiring nuts. Maybe slow us down enough for the last screw not to blow, fuck knows. Now there's nothing else to do but begin a series of tenuous little foot shuffles back right, tools in brittle, dinner-plating ice above me. I swing my right tool, ice breaks, a big chunk smashes into my face, blood splattering, well isn't this just so much fun.....A final heart-in-mouth step up, the last steep move, I sink my tools into better snow ice, where a final wallow up powder leads me to a bolt belay on the wall above. Thank fuck for that. I tie in and my arms are so shagged I can barely pull the near-60m of rope in to bring George up.    

Fuckin ice weapons mate

Well bugger me if that wasn't a shitload of effort for one single bloody pitch of ice. I forgot just how crap I am at it. We ignore the second mixed pitch up a ramp of unconsolidated snow and instead abseil back down again. Good to get some ice mileage after nearly a year away from it. I keep looking over at the far steeper main fall to the right - hopefully I'll get a chance to come back a bit fitter and with sharp as fuck new picks and smash the bastard. Beats queuing for ski lifts anyway.....