Fresh Pastries and Raw Panic - Chamonix 2017

For about three weeks in March I was in Chamonix. Chamonix is the epicenter of European mountain sports, and is heavenly. The mountains are amazing, and the infrastructure in the mountains is amazing. This is the last I'll say about that*, because otherwise I'll just go on and on about it. 

(This is a dramatic photo that I put at the top so that it'll show on the post preview. It'll be in the blog again later, in context.)

*this is probably a lie. 

Descending the zig-zags down from the Aiguille du Midi station.

   

Instead, I think that I may write this blog post mostly about the people I got out into the mountains with. It was a pretty cross-eyed smattering of people - some old friends, some new, and some that blurred that line. 

While Nick Elson falls solidly in the 'old friend' category, Mark Smiley blurs the line. I got out with him and Nick for a casual day near the du Midi station early in my trip. I wrote a story about it for Arcteryx's blog (they paid me!), but I hate to say that I'm not that proud of the blog post. I completely rewrote it a few times due to different ideas of how it should look, and in the end I got impatient and hustled something out the door. I wish that I had, at least, edited it one more time. Oh well. 

I first met Mark in the Bugaboos in 2010. He remembered me because I made a cameo in his video about their climb. 

Mark and Nick and I did a traverse of the Pointe Lachenal, a popular little snow and rock climb across the Giant Glacier from the du Midi Station. Mark tosses the rope for the rap off one of the summits.

After the Pointe Lachenal we climbed the first three pitches of the Chere Couloir on Mont Blanc du Tacul. 

Nick took the sharp end. They offered me a lead and I said "naw."

Rapping.

Mark climbs back down to the glacier. 

Nick raps through the spindrift. 

I barely got this photo of Nick smiling. He was mad at me for being slow on the ski out (which, compared to him, I was - I was very slow. But Nick is objectively fast.)

Actually, I'll elaborate on this, since this blog post is supposed to be about people and not lifts and big faces. Years ago, when I was in grad school at UBC, I recognized Nick as the most talented member of the outdoor club. He was a bit reclusive, but nevertheless, I persisted, and over time we became friends and climbing partners.

Talented climbing partners are my North Star, and I have a gift for picking them out. But Nick's skillz turned out to be centered on being really, really fast. Speed record on Mt. Rainier fast. Speed record on the Teton Traverse fast. 2nd place at Mt. Marathon (when 1st place David Norris broke Kilian Jornet's record) fast. Course records. Fastest known times. The dude is just speedy. 

And so we skied down from the du Midi together. I wasn't yet acclimated to the altitude and my legs were tired from from this day and the few days prior. Nick did some waiting. He tried his best to be gracious, but it turns out that his stamina is not, actually, limitless. 

Tom and Olly traversing to the north couloir of encrenaz.

In orange is my housemate Olly. I met him as a random connection on a facebook page for housing in Cham, but it turned out that I hit the roommate jackpot. In addition to being an all-around swell guy, he took me skiing. It was heaven, until I realized that he was trying to get me killed. More on that soon.

We booted up the left hand couloir in the full blast of the sun, which was probably not very safe. 

Then we skied the other side. Well, Olly and Tom side slipped/stepped this, and I rapped. By the time we got to it the line had gone into the shade, and was starting to firm up - the day would have been much better had we been on a schedule that was a few hours earlier. This first pitch was about 50 degrees, and had a mandatory rap at the bottom. 

Tom, after the second rap, boots down a skinny slot. It was Tom's birthday. Happy birthday, Tom!

I was generally not thrilled with this line. I survival skied/slipped the entire thing. Olly was able to link a couple of turns. 

This is a picture of the bottom of Will's feet. We did a classic mixed climb in not very classic conditions, but it was still fun. 

Looking down the last pitch. Will is belaying on the skyline.

I know Will because I became friends with his friends Ben and Pete some years back in Patagonia. After they climbed in the Alaska Range in 2016 they had some extra days, and spent a few of them sacked out in both mine and Faustine's living rooms drinking either coffee or beer, depending on whether it was before or after 1pm. Will lives in Cham and was a very gracious adventure buddy and friend while I was there - we skied, climbed, and ran together. He is not as fast as Nick, but has much more stamina (for putting up with me.)

This is a picture of the madness of Chamonix. 

The trail down from the base of the fun part of the Vallee Blanche. 

Will and I did a day of rock climbing. I didn't get any good pictures of it, but it had a quaint little approach. 

Europe is just so fucking quaint. 

This is on a ledge of the rock climb we did. Will was rapping down when I saw this guy wandering toward me on the big ledge (if you look carefully and use your imagination, you can see that the earth drops away precipitously in the lower left corner of the frame). I moved toward him to try to get a better look, but at some point I realized that he was quite unafraid of me. Upon just a little more reflection, I realized that if he became tired of my proximity to him, his natural reaction might be to try to toss me off the ledge, and that he may have some significant physical advantages in such an altercation. I moved away. 

Olly and I went over to the Italian side one day to do some skiing. The gondola ride gives these kickass views of the Peuterey Integrale, which I climbed with Jed in 2008. It is still the hardest thing Jed has ever done. 

Olly booting up to start skiing (it's actually pretty reasonable to step off right a little higher up.) 

Olly posing for a classic photo. 

Shredding high above Italy. 

A typical morning scene at the midi - I don't remember what was going on on this particular day, but I think we were waiting for it to open. 

You share the most badass gondola in the world with 10,000 of your closest friends.

I think on this particular day we did a leisurely group ski of the Valley Blanche, but I don't exactly remember.

A different day, with Team Squamish - the guy in the back is Jamie, my connection to these guys. Back when I lived there he was my neighbour.

Marcus.

Marcus is a Real Skier. He begins.

Nice turns high over Italy. Though I'm *capable* of skiing terrain like this, I find the exposure - ie, the immense distance below you - much too intimidating to commit to doing real turns. I opted for survival techniques, instead. The others waited patiently.

Marcus.

Jaime overlooking Italy.

At the mid-station on the lift ride back up from Italy Jaime paused to do a little shopping. He couldn't decide on just one, so he bought them all. Who could blame him?

Marcus on the ski back into Chamonix.

I went climbing with Colin, but I forgot my camera. And we didn't go climbing. We went halfway up the midi to top rope some steep glacier ice, just for the exercise, but when we got there we decided that the spot looked serac threatened, so we went down. And I forgot my camera. But I had my GoPro, which works. But not as well. I'm a real professional.

Olly and I went for a tour starting at the Grand Man-Tits. We were unsure about the weather, and the snow was reasonable on the Mat-Tits, so we decided to stay and ski there for a bit. We ran into my friend Rob Smith and his wife (who I'd been curious to meet in a who-the-hell-could-be-married-to-this-guy? kind of way) and so we did a few runs with them. Rob snowboards, which I thought no one did anymore. Kudos to him for staying strong - people have to wait for me a lot too, buddy. Don't let their bitching get you down.

Olly finding sneaky powder at the Man-Tits. 

The observation deck at the top of the gondola. 

We started the tour, which I've forgotten the name of, but it is also the start of the Haute Route. We were inside a cloud at the start of the skin up, which was a weird experience - it was really, really hot inside the cloud. It was like the sun's heat was bouncing off the snow and being trapped inside the cloud. It had to have been 70 Fahrenheit inside the cloud - we could barely deal. 

The top of the Grand Man-Tits is the prominent peak in the center, with the cable visible to the right. The slope coming out of the col is feature with ski tracks. There was fresh snow that morning. Acres and acres of snow had been tracked out in only a few hours - and this is an off-piste area. There are lots of people in Europe. 

Olly at the top of the skin up. 

Getting ready to start the descent - the good snow didn't last for long before we got down into the warm and heavy stuff, but the skiing seen here was nothing less than bliss. 

Olly side-stepped up to get a few more feet of the good stuff. 

Worth it.

I went rock climbing with Will. He really isn't a very good rock climber - I led everything while he mostly flailed on top rope, pulling on bolts and complaining. It's because he's fat, while I am quite skinny. 

Will seen here, flailing on top rope. I forget what this area was called, but it was about an hour drive down-valley from Chamonix. 

Another day of skiing with Jamie Bond. I forget the name of these mountains. 

Jamie's not a very good skier, but I was nice enough to get out with him for the day.

Eric Carter and I had plans to climb the Mallory, a route that goes up directly under the midi. But the snow was too deep, and after at least an hour of wallowing, we gave up and went down. Also, some guys skied it (which is fucking bonkers - skiing lines like this that absolutely, positively worse for your health than smoking. Thinking of skiing the Mallory? Don't, son. Best to light a cigarette and live long.) while we were wallowing up.
We bailed, and climbed this route instead, the classic Cosmiques Arete. 

Eric led the crux. It's worth noting that there are drilled pockets, and that this is not as desperate as it looks. 

But still. Eric is pretty heroic looking, isn't he?

Looking down from the top of the ridge. 

The route ends with a ladder up to the observation deck on the du midi station. The route is emblematic of the whole range in a whole buncha ways.

The same thing I skied with Jaime that I forgot the name of I skied with Olly and forgot the name then, too. 

This particular tour goes from the top of the lifts up and over into the this valley. The tour then heads out the valley on a well-skied trail, albeit one that was melting out. 

...there is actually a bar on the way out - this isn't the road yet. And this was my last day out in Cham. It was sad, but a worthy last day.

And thanks to my friends. Really, really, thanks to my friends: Will, Olly, Colin, Eric, Jaime, Mark, Nick, and too many Brits to remember. And thanks to the many others, especially Amy and Camille and even more Brits, that made the trip such a pleasant social experience, as well.
I didn't meet a single French person, unfortunately. That came later.