• Summer ML training at Plas y Brenin
• A quick look at new kit – Rab Momentum waterproof and Meindl Air Revolution 3.1 walking boots
• Cwm Eigiau wild camp from Dolgarrog

and I’m planning a tidy up of the background pages to the website. Thanks to all the people who’ve left comments on here and Twitter about the blog. Hope everyone had a cracking Summer!

The weekend before (early July 2010) the start of Summer ML training it felt right to do some walking up high,  get some more miles in my new boots and add another day to the logbook. I’d be going out on my own and trying to ignore the increasingly poor conditions predicted for the day, I decided to take a look at different route up Snowdon. Waking up early, I arrived in the pouring rain at an empty car park by Rhyd-Ddu (it’s pay and display) just before 6am.

A deposit of slate to the side of the trail towards the South ridge

Leaving the car park at the North end and across the train track the path ahead is clear, well maintained and ascends gradually. There’s no problem spotting the fork in the trail either that takes you East away from the main Rhyd-Ddu path towards the proper start of the South ridge. The first section along this trail was pretty boggy and often submerged in the conditions but otherwise would make for a quick and steady walk up as suggested by the route I was following (see end of article for a link). At numerous points before reaching the saddle between Snowdon and Yr Aran are reminders of the considerable mining history of the area, with several buildings and huge deposits of slate to the side of the trail.

Making the saddle (Bwlch-Cwm Llan) I took advantage of the wall that runs along it to shelter from the driving rain, to check my non-laminated map (it was retired after this route…) and decide what next. I’d been tempted to go up Yr Aran as part of the route, but given the poor conditions and being on my own on unfamiliar ground, I decided that getting up and down Snowdon as quick as possible and back to somewhere warm/dry made the most sense.

Sheltering from the rain behind the wall on Bwlch-Cwm Llan

Approaching the ridge from the saddle there’s a sharp gain in height before things settle into a more gradual ascent over a clear trail. Things carried on for a while before I found myself a little off the crest of the ridge (on the Western side) and needed to scramble back up a short section, I’m guessing I lost the main path at some point to end up needing to do this though. After meeting the Rhyd-Ddu path the ridge narrows over Bwlch Main to give some exposure (hard to tell how much as the cloud was so thick), although the strength of the wind (gusting 50mph) certainly added to things.

On this narrower section I met the first and only person I’d seen during the ascent, a quick “Morning, you alright?” between us and I was beyond the ridge proper on onto the final section of ascent, some short ascents on wide rocky tracks. Making the summit I was amazed that despite the weather/time (~ 9am) I was the only person in sight (visibility was about 30m).

Heading back down quickly as there was nothing of a view and the weather was cold/depressing at best, I quickly found the fork after the narrow section of the ridge that goes right and down onto the Rhyd-Ddu path itself. Around halfway down I began to meet others on their way up, looking forlorn and not enjoying the path which now resembled a stream. It’s really hard to tell giving how dense the cloud was but I’d be tempted to suggest taking the alternative route up over the standard Rhyd-Ddu path up would make for a better ascent, anyone done both?

In conclusion it’s hard to make any real conclusion about a walk done in such poor conditions, however, having seen the ridge line in clear weather I can imagine it makes for a spectacular route. I’ll definitely be back, when the sun is out and in with others to enjoy the route another time. Having the summit to myself was a bonus and not something I guess will happen again soon. Getting up and down for just before half 11 meant my pace felt comfortable at around 4km/hour, which was handy to know prior to a week of training. The heavy rain battered my waterproofs and left me pretty wet from the day, so it was out with the waterproofing treatment as soon as I got back.

Fancy doing the route?

• Check out the full route detail on Walking Britain.

Us on top of Elidir Fawr with the Marchlyn Mawr reservoir behind

Leaving work we were quickly packed and on our way, only to hit the M1 and turn around as I’d left my boots at home, whoops! Further delays hit in the form of roadworks in Wales, so we arrived late at the Gwern Gôf Isaf Campsite near Tryfan on the A5. Setting up the tent we were able to light the disposable BBQ and get food/beer out in the last light (around 11pm), only to quickly retreat inside the tent to avoid being eaten alive by midges. Apart from the obvious annoyance of me being the tastiest thing to midges within several hundred square miles, the campsite was great and I’d definitely recommend it due to location and basic facilities.

Up leisurely at around half 8 we were back in the car and soon at the the start of our walk where there’s adequate parking on the verge (Grid reference: SH604627). After surveying the mountains infront of us whilst disposing of some pastries for breakfast inside the car, we began to steadily ascend via the tarmacked road that leads to the reservoir. When the road starts to zig zags we found ourselves presented with a sign for our first mountain of the day… I debate now whether following it was best, with the ground being covered in thistles and requiring a jump over a small river, whilst to the side the road leads closely to the style at the bottom of Carnedd y Filiast, oh well! The ascent is at a good gradient over ground not overly steep on a solid path which still gains height well and has increasingly good views back down over the reservoir and towards Elidir Fawr when you fancy a quick breather (we needed it in the increasingly hot sun). Halfway through the ascent the ground levels off, giving fantastic views over the Carneddau before the final and more rocky section of ascent is made.

The summit of Carnedd y Filiast with Elidir Fawr behind

Walking off the summit of Carnedd y Filiast you slowly descend to the hump that is Mynydd Perfedd and with it increasingly spectacular views down the Ogwen Valley over the rest of the Glyders and to the right the impressive route of ascent up Elidir Fawr. There’s a fence with numerous styles on that can be crossed over to meet the path to Elidir Fawr, so just find the fence and cross where you fancy.

Looking towards the ascent route taking on Elidir Fawr

Following the ridge line to the summit of Elidir Fawr is the last decent ascent section of the walk, which whilst not overly steep was taken at a slow pace given how hot the day had turned out to be. After a short section clambering over rock we were at the small shelter at the summit of Elidir Fawr to enjoy some lunch, a drink and the fantastic views back down over Marchlyn Mawr reservoir. Several groups arrived at the summit looking exhausted, following the climb from the Llanberis valley as part of an attempt at the Welsh 3000s.

After a short walk along the summit ridge of Elidir Fawr there’s an obvious path down a scree slope towards Elidir Fach. Heading North off the summit and down a ridge line a line down towards the road taken on the ascent becomes clear (go a little NNW to avoid finding yourself overlooking one of the small quarries from above).

Walking around Marchlyn Mawr to the top of Elidir Fawr allows you to see a less visited (if not still fairly busy in places) part of the Glyders and enjoy a good day out in Snowdonia, with fantastic views over the main ranges. More than anything I was over the moon to see/hear how much Laura enjoyed the day, having let on halfway through the walk that she’d been a little worried about what the day was going to be like. As preparation for my Summer Mountain Leader training it was great, I’d managed to do in a small part what the ML will hopefully allow me to do more of in the future, show others just how incredible the mountains are.

Fancy doing the route yourself? Want more photos?

• The route is described in full on Walking Britain.
• Check my Flickr for photos of our Elidir Fawr walk.

At the top of the Daear Ddu ridge on Moel Siabod

Arriving at the Bryn Glo car park on the A5 before Capel Curig at just after 8pm, there was still plenty of light as we set off out of the car park to the right briefly before turning left over a bridge and up a lane. The second right is taken, I think it’s even signed for Moel Siabod, and a steady climb starts up a tarmacked single lane road. After a while a diversion is directed to avoid the farm which is at the end of the lane, this briefly winds up before rejoining the road beyond the farm. Over a stile the route passes through several fields (full of sheep/lambs at this time of year). It was around now the light steadily started to fade and light rain began to fall.

Steady ascent through fields in light rain and fading light

After a little while we came to an obvious ridge line down off Moel Siabod, from which we would later descend, that we avoided and continued on the trail to the first of the lakes on the route. As we reached the end of this first lake, the rain became stronger, we moved up into the clouds and with this the light went completely, head torches were switched on, waterproofs were put on and we started ascending again.

With several sections of boggy ground and now thick cloud (made worse by the torches) the route became difficult in places to follow, and with only about half a mile to the ridge we found ourselves unable to follow the path further and switched to a compass to guide us down towards the lake (that we almost walked into… whoops!), where we knew another path should be that would lead us more directly to the base of the ridge. By this point the topic of trying to find decent place to pitch the tents was high on the agenda, with the ground incredibly boggy by the lake and strong winds making setting up on higher more exposed grounds a bad idea, we decided to go a in between and look for some shelter just higher off the ridge.

After around 15 minutes of walking together in a line around the base of the ridge we found a suitable spot, with some shelter from the wind offered by a rocky outcrop. After “a couple” drinks we tried to get some sleep. It was now I really regretted throwing the Thermarest out to keep my pack weight low, the ground was freezing and it took quite some time to get comfortable, I’ll not be making that mistake for a while.

Tents pitched at the base of the Daear Ddu ridge

Waking up fairly late after a surprisingly good night sleep we packed up and looked up the ridge to the summit. The first section was really simple stuff although there were a few options we picked that were noticeably harder than the main route up, and more so with heavy packs on that made balance difficult. But it’s mainly good fun and quite a lot simpler/less sustained than other grade 1 scrambles nearby, confirming it as an introduction to scrambling which I’d read on the Internet/in guide books prior. After about 1/3 of the ridge is complete, things open up and the scrambling fades into a trail that snakes its way up through scattered rock, with some spots you could climb a little if you really tried.

The summit is a small rocky outcrop on the Western corner of a plateau, by now there were other groups with us, so we quickly walked up to the trig point, turned on our heels and looked for the way down. Down from the summit you follow the obvious broad ridge down to the East over rocky undulating ground. We moved fairly quickly at first and then I stopped to talk to a group of other walkers, one of whom struck up conversation about my pack/trousers, who turned out to be from Snow + Rock on a long weekend testing gear, who kindly gave me a Mammut baseball cap… result! Back with the other two we continued over the ridge and downward over easy ground.

There’s quite a few rocky steps, as is usual for a route like this, and on one about half way down my knee emitted a loud crack, I winced and hoped it was nothing. The rest of the descent was uncomfortable and my knee continued to hurt on the rocky steps, guess I’m getting a little older! Anyhow, there’s nothing tricky coming down and soon the ridge becomes more grassy until it descends down towards a broken up rock wall which you pass aiming diagonally right, to meet the path we’d taken in and walk back out.

The route taken is well worth taking, but our walk in at night in thick cloud without prior knowledge of where to pitch was far from ideal, we learnt plenty that night! I’d definitely suggest going light and completing the route quickly as the guide books suggest instead of the more leisurely way we came at this. The scramble is, as most guides suggest, really simple and would make sense as an introduction to scrambling. Given the fantastic grade 1s close by (Snowdon Horseshoe, Tryfan North Ridge, Bristly Ridge, Crib Lem Spur) I’d be hard pressed to advise on Daear Ddu ridge first unless you’re keen on taking things slowly and getting a feel for scrambling. However, the ridge itself is fun, there’s less crowds on here the the other well known routes nearby and you still get that fantastic setting, that’s usual for North Wales. On the practical side, I can add another wild camp to the list and learnt plenty from approaching this too casually in changeable conditions. From a light-hearted point of view we’re still laughing about seeing each other sink in the boggy ground in the dark/rain and then pulling each out.

There’s a full set of images from the Moel Siabod wild camp/walk available on my Flickr.

Next up will depend on the weather but a longer route in the Lake District or climbing in the Peak District look fairly promising. I’ve also nearly become “comfortable” in my new pair of climbing shoes so I’ll do a bit of a review in the coming weeks as to how they’re getting on.

After a short walk the path climbs gains height quickly on a good path that after a little while opens up and levels off. We then turned to the left into a slightly snow covered Cwm Cau and begin steadily climbing again. The cwm looked like it’d hold some pretty good spots for wild camping when we skirted around it, although without checking the ground properly in warmer months it was hard to be sure. Anyone know?

Stood infront of Llyn Cau

Up into the clouds, we ascended for short while until to our right a clear ridge emerged that made its way steadily to the top of Craig Cwm Amarch (791m), with I imagine great views on a clear day. As we went higher, the patchy snow steadily became thicker, such that by the top we were on a good foot or so of snow in places. Coming down to a saddle between Craig Cwm Amarch and Penygadair was slippery in slushy snow but we were soon again making our way to the highest point of the horseshoe, with the clouds now rising to give views onto Llyn Cau below us.

Looking down into Cwm Cau from the top of Penygadair

As we climbed, the way ahead became clear for once in the walk, with the the clouds thinning and bobbing up/down over the top. Just 50m short of the top the snow became deeper and the climb more steep, Pat and me choosing slightly different routes to the top more for fun than anything else.

On the saddle between Craig Cwm Amarch and Penygadair

A quick stop just below the summit, sheltered from the now stronger winds high up, for some liquids and food, and we were off on a steady descent towards Mynydd Moel.

Looking back towards Penygadair from Mynydd Moel

Once at Mynydd Moel and having joked about the number of people wearing shorts on such a cold day, we laughed our way a little too far past the turn downwards (that’s easy to spot, just look for the fence). Looking back there were people obviously struggling with the snow and in shoes that would mean their feet were not just cold but wet on top, a poor combination! It’s always shocking how ill prepared people arrive for the mountains (in all seasons) but I guess this will never change.

Descending again was slippery in the slush over what was the loosest rock of the circuit from what we saw, but again nothing at all tricky. We were soon at the junction where we’d turned earlier into Cwm Cau and passing a stream of walkers making their way up to the lake for lunch.

The route was simple compared to others recently and the day whilst short, was a good trip out in an area new to us. When the clouds lifted the setting of the walk was as fantastic as anything else in North Wales, and showed clearly why Cadair Idris is so popular. The day was a reminder to look beyond the three main ranges in Snowdonia when planning walks/climbs in the area. Leaving Cadair Idris, I’d decided to make a point of exploring the other ranges and to come back in the Summer to see whether a wild camp was possible and also test the legend about leaving as a madman or poet after a night camping on the summit.

On Left Hand Trinity of Snowdon (Credit: Hightrek)

A friend who I climb with indoors came too, so on the first day we spent a little time covering some basics as a refresher before tackling the right side of Tower Slabs (WI ii/iii) on Glyder Fawr, which whilst a little busy with a couple of other teams on at the same time, was great fun in fantastic conditions. I spent the climb without my camera out, simply enjoying being back on snow/ice, so I’ll perhaps do a short write up in the future.

For our second day, with a good forecast predicated, we made for Pen-y-Pass and up the Pyg track towards Snowdon, aiming to climbing one of the Trinity gullies on Snowdon’s Trinity Face (Clogwyn y Garnedd).

Y Lliwedd and Llyn Llydaw from the Pyg track

The walk in was as it is usually, with a few points where the path was covered in ice that needed a bit more concentration and care. But quite soon we were over the style at the junction for Crib Goch and following the Pyg track, traversing round to where we’d begin our ascent up Snowdon. Occasionally we’d be exposed to cold winds but overall we were particularly warm, as we walked briskly in the sun. The route we’d be taking became more apparent later on and is fairly obvious on the photograph below, with the two dots at the bottom of the shadow in the centre people on their way up the first part of the route to “The Spider” (the snowfield in the centre right).

Snowdon’s Trinity Face from the Pyg track

A short drop down from the path to a saddle (near to a small pond and one of the old copper mines found on Snowdon) allowed us time to look up the first section of the route, put on an extra layer of clothing and rope up. The slope itself was fairly easy going on not too steep snow, although my friend’s crampons kept on balling up with the snow being fairly soft which took him a little practice to spot before getting into a rhythm. A short steeper section of more firm snow and we’d reached the first snowfield (“The Spider”) and looked up the gully directly to our left, Left-hand Trinity (WI i/ii).

Climbing up to “The Spider”

Ian lead the route as he’d done the day previously, with Kyle and me following. Whilst the snow was fairly steep it wasn’t difficult making our way up, although Ian did point out that the route offered little in the way of good protection. I lose count of the pitches but it was somewhere between 3-4 before we emerged from the gully and then another 2 easier pitches saw us up directly onto the summit, with Ian securing the final anchor around the trig point itself, whilst a couple of onlookers watched with a little disbelief that we were appearing from over the edge of the face.

One of the final pitches of the climb

The climb whilst not technically difficult or demanding is one of the most enjoyable ascents I’ve ever made. Climbing up to the very top of Snowdon, a mountain I’ve enjoyed many days on, was really special. That the clouds soon dropped to give us brief views across North Wales was the icing on the cake. The two days reminded me of all that I loved about climbing in Winter conditions and excited me at all the prospects for a lot more of the same next Winter.

All photos from the trip can be found in my Flickr album of Snowdonia 2010 winter climbs and also on our guide’s Flickr account.

A big thank you to our guide Ian at Hightrek, who’s based in Snowdonia and helped pick/lead us on some cracking rotues, if there was something you’d like to work on/towards then I couldn’t recommend him highly enough.

Finally, there’s a Wiki of Welsh winter climbs with further routes being put together now if you’re interested in what else is possible during the colder months. Also worth knowing about is the Cicerone Welsh Winter Climbs guide, Ian referred to as we climbed that I’ve now picked up a copy of which even though a little old is a good reference for most routes.

For a route we picked Kinder Downfall from Hayfield on Walk Britain which at 8miles seemed a good steady option for a morning walk.

After following the sat nav out of Hayfield and thinking we were going off in the wrong direction we soon were at a near empty car park (with plenty of road parking if it did fill up). Turning left out of the car park and back onto the road, we were soon at gates which we passed through and continued to find an opening with a short steep incline up a stepped path. From the top of this early climb we had our first view over the area we’d walk and the Kinder reservoir.

Skirting slightly above the reservoir to the left over flat ground we passed other groups before finding a stream that runs into the Northern corner of the reservoir. Following the stream, we started to ascend gradually on a well trodden path which occasionally became slightly more steep. Soon this section was complete and we were on an obvious saddle, meeting the Pennine Way and turning right to head up a short steep section to the top of the Kinder plateau. Reaching the top, there’s great views back over the reservoir from where we’d come and also over the plateau to where we’d go next.

Skirting around the edge on a well trodden path, we found a rather dry Kinder Downfall and with the weather become ever so slightly colder/windier on the exposed plateau, we moved past with just a quick pause to look at where the tallest waterfall in England can be seen in the correct conditions. Following the path southwards on a good path surrounded by a desolate peat moorland to the side we were soon at the trig point of Kinder Low, where we checked the map and looked at the descent back down, with the weather now turning sunny.

Once again finding the Pennine Way we turned West to complete our circuit of the reservoir, and as we did so were joined by a constant stream of mountain bikers. Following the path down was simple and after a simple descent we were back on tarmac for 10mins or before turning a corner to see the car park from where we started out from almost 4 hours earlier.

It was nice getting back to the Peak District, having ventured past the range in search of higher mountains and longer routes elsewhere in the previous 12 months. The morning walk showed there was still plenty close to my doorstep for me to look into. Finally, I’m delighted that Kev completed his goal of reaching Everest Base Camp, raising money for a great cause along the way.

Seeing the weather looked good for Snowdonia in mid September it didn’t take long to decide a day out was in order. All Summer I’d wanted to take a look at the Crib Lem Spur on Carnedd Dafydd and with good weather, a route in the Carneddau would also be a perfect to escape the crowds. So I was up at 4:30am on Saturday the 12th, to drive over to Snowdonia, where I parked in a space in Gerlan (it’s a small part of Bethesda you reach by going West on the A5, driving down a tiny road past mining cottages and then at a sharp right going back up the hill). Out on the road, you just follow it and then over a couple of styles into open ground…

Into the Cwm the path goes from clambering over rocks in boggy ground to a nice easy faint trail. There was one opening to the right I passed which I almost considered but it’s fairly obvious from mid way in the walk that the huge outcrop off Carnedd Dafydd is the Crib Lem Spur. Best piece of information from the Cicerone book was to look for an area with large boulders, with a view up to Carnedd Dafydd like this…

The walk up where I pointed to in the video is actually quite steep and with the sun not hitting the rock yet it was a little slippery on the looser sections. Not much fun. But anyway after a steepish start/middle it flattens out and you quickly ascend around the corner of the crag and up. Then it’s as though you hit a wall where you could climb higher but the trail seemed to take me to the left naturally and there’s an obvious grassy platform going up back out toward the valley, which is what you want to follow. Reaching the end of the spur by taking this you then need to ascend a section of steep grass and some small rocky scrambles to make it to the start of the climbing proper…

As explained by the video above, I stuck to the crest throughout and had fun doing so. There is however a decent trail that runs through the scramble that you can almost always drop down to if you don’t fancy climbing it all. The scrambling is mostly simply stuff, although as usual I perhaps didn’t do things the easy way a couple of times and so found a few moves more demanding, but nothing too bad. Whilst not quite the quality of what you’ll find in the Glyders, the setting of this scramble is great and you’ll feel very much on your own, unlike the other classics which become very crowded. Descent would be fine through the scramble although the walking either side is a little steep and over some loose rock, so if you’re not keen on scree be aware of that.

Up on top of Carnedd Dafydd I started to see I wasn’t quite so alone on the mountain with people littered across the ridge. Picking up my pace I was soon over at Pen yr Ole Wen and then back over Carnedd Dafydd before a short stop to drink a little more, eat a cereal bar and look at the spur from the side.

I carried on the fairly long ridge walk toward Carnedd Llewellyn where I met another walker intending on a similar list of peaks. On top of Carnedd Llewellyn, with clouds coming in and drinks in particular running low I decided it would be best to just ascend Yr Elen then descend back toward Bethesda, so we walked out together, descending via Yr Elen’s North Ridge that I’ve been up a couple of times this year, which again is a tiny bit steep but nothing tricky at all.

It was a fantastic day and great to finally check out what turns out to be a good, fun route in the Carneddau. I’m not rushing to go back but it makes for a nice change from the more crowded peaks/routes in the region and so is well worth doing. I was a little disappointed to not see the 3000s I’m yet to ascend, but the day felt fairly long and the weather did close in when we descended, so I guess I wouldn’t have seen much of them had I carried on. My watch recorded (most of) the day at over 8hrs, more than 13 miles of walking and with over 5,000ft of altitude gain, so a pretty good day out! With a lot of running coming up (I’m preparing for the New York Marathon) I may be a little quiet for walking in the coming month or so, which means a couple of posts relating to bits from my past, but don’t be too surprised to see photos/videos of me being battered by sideways rain on Snowdon… you can’t beat it.

Once again, let me know what you think to the videos and slightly shorter version of the post (it’s meant I could get this up a lot quicker). Cheers, Ian.

Walking around Chamonix it doesn’t take long to spot Mont Blanc, to say it dominates the valley is a massive understatement and on a clear day (like the one we arrived on) the views are spectacular. Despite how obviously huge the massif is both looking up to the heavens and then down onto a map, I felt better for finally setting my eyes on the mountain; I could see what lay ahead of me and begin to mentally prepare for the ascent.

Mont Blanc from the centre of Chamonix

And then as is usual, the news came in that the fantastic weather that had been in the area for the past week, was about to change for bad weather that’d put a stop to any attempts of ascending Mont Blanc. However, there was at least a glimmer of hope in the form of weather window coming through in the next couple of days and with poor weather expected across the entire region and the huts already booked, there was no point changing plans (sometimes groups head to the Gran Paradiso in Italy), we’d go sit it out in the hut and hope the weather cleared in time.

From Chamonix we went to Les Houches and the Bellevue cable car station, which took us up to just a short walk away from the Tramway du Mont-Blanc train that slowly trundled up to the Nid d’Aigle at 2372m where we’d begin the ascent. A quick fact (well I think it’s a fact, our guide told us and appeared genuine) is that the tramway was meant to go all the way up to the Goûter hut, but due to the Second World War construction stopped, so the station at the top is at an usually steep gradient and 800m is added to the total climb.

The ascent up to the hut is nice and easy over a mix of trail and rock, that takes around 2.5/3hrs. The views whilst pleasant don’t really register, you’re starting the ascent and it was plainly obvious each member of the group was now focused on the job at hand. After half way the trail crosses a rocky area and then you traverse up an outcrop, before appearing on top to see the hut with a dry glacier between. The glacier is relatively flat in places and having stopped moving there’s no worry from crevasses, meaning no need for ropes or even crampons/ice axes to come out.

A quick pause half way to the Tête Rousse hut (Photo credit: Paul G)

After stories of the huts on the route being awful, we were pleasantly surprised upon arriving at the Tête Rousse, the communal area was spacious and bright if not massively comfortable (wooden benches) and the rooms whilst smelling a little damp were fine once you’d navigated the crazy corridor/door system downstairs. Once settled in (i.e. throwing a sleeping bag liner at a bed) and taking my book up to the communal area, conversation amongst the group soon focused on the weather as clouds swirled around outside the hut, allowing us only the occasional view up the route. Things didn’t look good from the forecast, and the guides’ attitude showed we were in for a wait even if they told us we should be ready to go at any time. The hut was surprisingly empty which also pointed to not much chance of an ascent even with the weather appearing to clear later in the afternoon.

From Tête Rousse toward the first section of the route, the Grand Colouir, with the Goûter hut at the top.

After a surprisingly good night’s sleep, I woke up to see the weather looking reasonable and wondering why we’d not tried to at least get up to the Goûter hut, where had the weather been poor we could stop the night and remove a couple hours from our final ascent. Looking upward from the balcony though it was obvious that the wind was strong across the top and very quickly views were again obliterated by cloud. The guides also reminded us that much of the poor reputation of Mont Blanc huts is down to the Goûter, and that we’d be much better holed up lower a the Tête Rousse. So back to the book (The White Spider by Harrer, cracking book and not a bad place to read it) I went and soon it was lunch time; a fantastic omelette. The day wore on and as it did, more people arrived, those in the hut became more active, and finally our main guide told us there was a good chance we’d have weather early in the morning for an ascent. So I grabbed some sleep in the dorm in the afternoon, not wanting to wait until the evening and potentially lay in a noisy room trying desperately for sleep. After the evening meal I was soon back on the bunk, feeling actually really relaxed and quite keen having been stuck in the hut to get up the mountain the next day, I was asleep quickly.

Inside the Tête Rousse hut, things starting to fill up.

The group opposite got up ever so slightly earlier than us, so when the alarms started going off on our side of the room I was already wide awake when the door open with news of good weather, we were finally going for it. Throwing my clothes on that I’d hung up next to the bed (I was wearing a base layer, tshirt, gore-tex jacket on top, schoeller trousers on the bottom as we left) and up the stairs I was surprised just how many people had arrived at night; the communal area was now a huge mass of sleeping bags with exhausted occupants hiding in their hoods from the room lights. As usual, stale bread and awful tasting coffee wasn’t quite what my body fancied, so I ate only a tiny amount before heading off to my locker and outside kitted up, ready to go.

Over a short rocky area we were back onto the dry glacier, very soon wearing crampons and in 3 rope teams of 3. The glacier was little problem and we were soon back onto rock, with the gradient increasing and occasional sections of short scrambling. And then our guide turned his head, “Oh that bit there was the Grand Colouir”, which despite it being the middle of the night and so unlikely to be full of falling rock was a bit odd to just get through without realising we’d passed one of the main objective dangers of the route. Then the scrambling proper started, and as I said to the other two on the rope at the time, I really enjoyed it. Despite that, our rope was slow going up the rock in the dark, with fresh snow on route and the light at the top signifying the hut seeming close at first but never getting any closer despite plenty of effort. Technically the route is simple stuff and with plenty of cable and stanchions there’s very little to get concerned about. It was just important at this stage to not think too far ahead, and instead just to enjoy a warm up to the rest of the route.

Two hours later at around 4:15am, we came up and onto the balcony area of the Goûter hut. Quickly inside we were able to grab a quick drink, put on extra layers and leave our helmets behind before heading back out into the darkness to crack on. So on went the overtrousers, the balaclava and my big gloves over the thinner pair I’d scrambled in, and out we went again.

The slope out of the hut was immediately steep, but only for about 15m or so before levelling out and giving us views up the Dôme du Goûter with a line of small white lights slowly snaking their way upward toward the top. After the plateau we were traversing the slope upward at decent pace, not really concerned by just how small the lights had been on such a huge mass. Around an hour and a half after leaving the Goûter hut we reached our highest point on the Dôme, the sky no longer dark but instead full of brilliant reds and oranges signifying the day was coming.

From the Dôme du Goûter toward the summit, Vallot refuge at top of shadow (Photo credit: Paul G)

Reaching the crest and looking toward the rest of the route, it was clear whilst we’d come a long way, that there was still plenty to do before we were at the top (hopefully the little dots in the front of the picture below help with scale). So we headed down and then up toward the refuge, aware we’d soon have a chance to stop again and take on fluids and food. The slope was short but it was where I felt my legs starting to tire ever so slightly, but it was pleasing to have covered so much of the route without feeling the exertion or altitude much (particularly as we were now over 4300m at the refuge).

The Vallot refuge lives up to the hype, you really wouldn’t want to stay there, it’s a place where you stop for long only if you really have to. It’s dirty, full of rubbish, cold and uncomfortable, but as it’s no doubt saved lives, incredibly useful too! I cracked open the fizzy cola bottles I’d been carrying, which were greeted with smiles from the other two, and got my snow goggles, micro fleece and Stroke Association running vest (I climbed for charity in memory of my Granddad who’d died almost a year to the day of the ascent) out for the final section. Stood around waiting for even a short while in the refuge I soon became cold, in particular and worrying at the time was that my toes were freezing (the coldest they were all trip). Leaving the hut I had a tiny falling out with another English chap who thought his photograph of the Dôme was more important than safely allowing a single climber who looked shaky plenty of room on the rocks beneath the refuge… ahem. Crossing the rocks and back on route we spotted the last rope team coming up the slope, so we checked how they were doing, and decided to quickly go back into the refuge to wait for them and move together.

Beginning the traverse up toward Bosses Ridge at about 60-70m above the refuge, the other team member on the rope started to struggle particularly badly with his breathing and asked for a quick break. As we stood talking about whether he could continue, the weather began to show what it was capable of; with the wind sending lumps of snow sideways through the air, pounding us from the left. The other group found us chatting and had similar news, with one on that rope also struggling with the altitude. So quickly the ropes teams were changed completely, one team descended back toward the refuge, we turned our attention upward toward an increasingly wind swept ridge.

The trail felt steadily steep but nothing too bad, it was the combination of dropping temperature and winds reaching 60-70km/h (at one point it nearly took me off my feet) that were really starting to drain me of energy as we plodded upward ever slower, rarely looking up but aware that the top ahead wasn’t the summit but another point on the ridge. It was now that I really benefited from wearing my big gloves (Black Diamond Guides), snow goggles (Julbo Revolutions, a guy from the group wearing glacier glasses got mild snow blindness), and fleece/balaclava, others were caught out by the change in conditions. A couple of times the ridge narrowed, in particular one snow arête felt airy but the steady pace and focus on the goal ahead meant it did little to phase us. My legs began to complain a lot, my breathing told me I was getting high, but the pace and fact I’d managed to really hydrate meant I avoided the headaches that had been a problem in Switzerland. After plenty of hard work and false summits the route began to flatten out, 5 minutes later the ridge we were on started to curve downward… we’d reached the summit some 6 and a quarter hours after starting our ascent.

On the summit of Mont Blanc (4808m, the highest point in Western Europe)

It was quite a feeling, and one that words do little to help explain. Stood looking across a beautiful panorama of snowy peaks, having made the top after worries of my condition prior and with the ascent made in memory of my Granddad, it was a wide range of emotion that swept across me. Put simply though, realising I’d made it when the slope stop gaining height was without doubt one of the most special moments of my life so far.

The final section from the Vallot refuge to the summit was by far the hardest part of the ascent, but the descent was the real killer and the most dangerous part of the climb. Coming back down from the route, me leading the rope, I came across a team of 3 with the 2 lowest on the rope on their stomachs shuffling down the snow arête… absolutely crazy and making things particularly dangerous for the other teams trying to cover the exposed sections quickly/safely, so we dropped down to the side and quickly passed them. Back toward the Goûter hut didn’t feel so bad; but I was really surprised just how much distance we’d covered coming up. By the time we reached the hut itself we were both shattered, the other rope member couldn’t stomach any food, whereas I had no problem putting away most of a sandwich I’d bought 3 days earlier in Chamonix along with a can of Orangina (this was all I’d eaten along with a piece of stale bread and some fizzy cola bottles all day).

Looking back up the Dôme du Goûter on descent (Photo credit: Paul G)

Descending to the Tête Rousse was horrific, the route had iced up and was thick with groups, of varying competence, climbing up toward the Gouter hut to stop off before their attempted ascent. The extra numbers meant we had rocks flying past us throughout the descent, and had to lose the main line and attempt trickier (but often less icy sections) to make progress down. Toward the Grand Colouir things got really busy as people looked up and hesitated, almost expectant of hearing (the at this point of the day regular) screams from those above warning of falling rocks. We’d just made it across when a volley of rocks started to thunder down toward our position, so we quickly climbed up and out of the way, looking back to a queue waiting to cross behind us. And then soon we back on the glacier, by now feeling exhausted as well as jubilant that we were nearly back and our work done. After a short stop, another can of Orangina and a slow plod down over rock to the train station we were done. Finally back in Les Houches at 5pm, I just lay down in the car park, by now unable to care where I stopped, just content I could stop and rest, having done what I’d set out to achieve.

Mont Blanc is a truly incredible mountain, which is worthy of a lot more respect than it receives from people who fail to appreciate just how difficult and potentially dangerous the peak is to ascend (and descend). I was shocked at how ill equipped and incompetent some “climbers” on the route around us were; it’s reputation and status draw far too many people to make the attempt. It’s my first time on such a busy high mountain route, and I’m not rushing back to do something similar. Despite this the experience was incredible and the feelings at the top will stay with me for a very long time, if not forever. The route whilst busy and featuring a couple of snow plods is actually fairly mixed and enjoyable, the scramble is fun and the Bosses ridge to delivers you to the summit is a perfect mix of hard work, spectacular views and exposure to see you to the top of Western Europe. There’s enough other great routes up Mont Blanc that I’m in little rush to go back up via the Goûter, but just because it’s the “normal” way up doesn’t mean it’s not without excitement and splendour. Back down in the valley, laying exhausted in the cable car station car park in Les Houches, I could barely move to smile but inside I was over the moon, and already planning my next trip to the Alps.

Allalinhorn from the Mittel Allalin metro station, route visible behind me on right flank

Coming down from the Lagginhorn a couple of days earlier I was struggling, the attempt had hurt me physically (my toe nails were turning black, I can’t emphasise enough how important trimming nails right back is!) and mentally (I was worried how badly I’d been affected by altitude and also the fatigue I’d felt so soon in the trip). But after a chat with one of our guides over an ice cream, the chance to sit with a pint in the sun wearing soft shoes and a long sleep I felt better if not still sore as we set off on the bus to Saas Fee the next day. An hour spent rock climbing in big boots was unexpectedly a big turning point; it was great to just enjoy myself climbing leisurely in the morning sun. Laying eating lunch in the shade afterward, I was still suffering physical discomfort but mentally I felt refreshed and positive that whatever lay ahead I’d be able to give 100% to.

Climbing below Saas Fee in the morning sun, great fun!

We decided upon the longer more scenic route that saw us take the cable car to Pattjen (2567m) and then move steadily over a mixture of trail, rock and near the top snow and a dry glacier to the Brittania Hut at (3029m). The steady gradient and amazing views back over the valley to where we’d been for the first half of the week made the walk in enjoyable. There was a short section where holding onto cable and making use of the bolted on rocks was pretty much a necessity, which was quite obviously out of the comfort zone of some taking an afternoon stroll but apart from that it’s nice easy going. Plodding up the dry glacier to the hut my feet hurt but having loosened the laces at the front and tightening the laces more so than usual at the ankle I kept my swollen big toes well away from the front of the boot. On top of my feet feeling better, I’d really enjoyed the day and was eagerly looking forward to the ascent of the Allalinhorn.

Dry glacier beneath the Britannia hut, hut is on top of the snowy ridge to left of shot

After thinking it over on the approach I was ready to pass on the option of the Hohlaubgrat, despite how fantastic the route sounded, for the easier plod of the normal route up the WNW ridge. The easier route would get me back up to altitude with less potential damage done to my feet and also being shorter meant we could be slightly more leisurely, so reducing the chance of getting bad AMS as I had on the Lagginhorn. With just 500m of ascent to the summit thanks to us being able to catch the metro, it meant another hour and a half in bed, fantastic!

Looking East toward the Britannia hut

Hearing other groups wake up early, I’ll admit it was with a smile that I pulled the quilt up and went back to sleep, before waking up at 5:30am for breakfast and a start to an ascent that felt odd without the need for a headtorch. The walk over to the metro station was a simple 30min (notes said 45mins) brisk stroll with a few sections over rocky and slightly icy ground

Out of the metro station and onto the platform we looked up toward the Allalinhorn, with a piste of ever growing numbers of skiers (I guess you’d count them as an objective danger) infront of the route proper. Shortly after leaving the platform we stopped to put on crampons, noting that the slope would soon steepen and the flatter ground was obviously a better place to sort out (others didn’t think so far ahead…). Making our way over the piste and dodging lifts/skiers we were soon onto the trail. Passing quickly below some ice cliffs, we were at the one open crevasse on the route which required a big stride (even bigger for me at only 5’8!) to get over safely. After this the route returns to a snow plod, with some sections steeper than before but never much to really be considered hard work. After just over an hour we reached the ridge that joins the Allalinhorn and Alphubel, with absolutely stunning views South West toward the Matterhorn and Mont Blanc (one of those views that a photo just cannot do justice I’m afraid, well at least one I take). Turning left it’s a case of heading up the ridge a steady gradient, toward the top we crossed some slightly rocky ground underneath the summit before making our way around to the South and up to the short ridge that leads to the summit.

Final ridge line to the summit of the Allalinhorn

We quickly crossed the ridge to find a summit with just enough room to take a quick photo and shoot off before a couple of large groups joined the throng crowded around the marker on the rocky exposed top. Heading back down from the ridge to a spot where we could have some food/drink quickly I realised I was still smiling, that my breathing was normal and my head was clear, I’d cracked 4000m!

On the summit of the Allalinhorn

Looking from the summit toward the metro station, it’s in the middle on the ridge

Descent was short and mostly simple despite the need to keep stepping off trail as large numbers of people came up the same route, and after getting across the crevasse and dodging skiers we were back at the metro station to enjoy a soft drink before making our way back down into the valley.

After the two other ascents it was noticeable how easy the WNW ridge route of the Allalinhorn felt, it was about half the ascent and now much better acclimatised it felt like a nice morning walk. For those just wanting to get over 4000m in the Alps it’s a fairly obvious choice, although the crevasse and ice cliffs mean the route isn’t without dangers. I enjoyed the day but from talking to the other rope team it’s obvious that Hohlaubgrat makes for a much better ascent. Without doubt there are far more interesting and exciting routes in the vicinity but there’s plenty going for the WNW ridge for those wanting to pick up a simple 4000 or as part of acclimitisation for attempts on higher peaks. I had a fun morning out and had regained the focus I’d struggled with earlier in the trip, infact I now couldn’t wait to get over to Chamonix and check out Mont Blanc.

Early afternoon down at the Weissmies Hütte (2,726m) following a successful traverse of the Weissmies (4017m) we were allowed the chance to relax with cold drinks (i.e. a couple of beers) and size up the challenge for the next day, the Lagginhorn (4,010m). After a mainly snow route the first thing that hit home looking up at the Lagginhorn was the amount of exposed rock, in particular the ridge we intended to ascend via showed only minimal snow cover toward the top. A PD ascent of the WSW ridge would give us more time on a glacier (albeit one considered dead or as good as, meaning it’s stopped moving and danger posed by crevasses is far lower), plenty of scrambling and then a steep snow plod to the rocky summit.

Lagginhorn from Weissmies hut garden, WSW ridge going up left flank

Still tired from the ascent of the Weissmies, we spent the day lazing around at the hut, glancing up from out drinks/books from time to time to the Lagginhorn and the clouds that swirled quickly over the summit. After another huge hut dinner we ventured back outside to savour the spectacular views, as the last rays of sun hit the huge peaks of the Mischabel chain.

View over Mischabel and the Weissmies hut

Waking up felt particularly hard, and the stale bread coupled with bad coffee increased the feeling of early morning nausea. Yet feeling a little worse for wear I thought was normal, so I busied myself getting ready and outside by quarter past 5 as had been agreed. The 45 minute or so walk up to the glacier felt fine, with only some steep sections and a pace that I found made me breathe hard but not enough to leave me breathless. After crossing a couple of snow fields we were looking at the glacier, shades of red appearing over the peaks/ridges surrounding us.

We split into the rope teams as per the day before, with us moving on ahead as a 4 and the second team on a rope of 2 following at a slightly slower pace behind us on the glacier. The slope began gradually and then steadily increasing in steepness, until a traverse over to the ridge toward the top of the glacier. By now the nausea I’d felt earlier was back and getting worse, so I asked if it would be possible to hold on for the second rope and go up the ridge slower.

The rocky WSW ridge of the Lagginhorn from the top of the glacier

On the slower rope and heading up the ridge we got stuck into the first scrambling of the day, which was pretty simple at first as we kept mostly to the crest. Occasionally it felt as though things got considerably more exposed and tricky all at once but this may have been as we lost the best line, overall there was nothing really tricky and we moved steadily upward. Despite things being pretty simple, the ridge felt particularly long and takes up a considerable portion of the overall ascent time. It felt technically on par with the Weissmies scrambling although lengthier and at times our line made it feel ever so slightly more difficult, so it was a decent progression from the day before.

With about 200m left of ascent we came across snow again, so we stopped briefly to put on crampons and grab a drink. At this point I was very much relieved to have completed what appeared to be the largest part of the ascent and able to see what was left; a steep snow plod for the most part. The next 50m of the slope was awful though, with the nausea I’d coped with earlier becoming a lot worse, the slope being quite icey in places as well as steep and finally the real sucker punch was losing my sense of balance. I stopped the team and asked for a quick breather to compose myself, saying if I needed to call it again we’d need to descend. Within a minute I’d had to really plunge the ice ax into the slope to keep my balance and called it off as my footwork was awful. I’d never experienced AMS quite like this; it was shocking how quickly how things went from bearable to quite scarily not. I’m still at a bit of a loss to explain why on this climb it hit so hard, after all I’d gone higher the day before and felt hydrated on the ascent.

Despite being a bit tired and my big toes hurting (school boy error: I didn’t trim them right back. Yes, they’re black and soon to fall off. Don’t fret no photos below!) started to enjoy myself on the descent. There were a couple of points where it made sense to turn into the slope and down climb but nothing tricky, just a case of following the painted red marks over the rocks. After what seemed a long rock descent we were back at the glacier and the other rope team soon with us to talk about a (loose in places) rocky exposed summit after a progressively harder/icier final section.

From the ridge to the glacier on our descent

I guess this article is as much about my experience as the route. It’s been a real pain to write as I’m naturally competitive with myself, so having to call off an ascent due to how I felt physically was really hard and continues to frustrate me (even now almost a month later). But getting back down I was happy that despite struggling with the altitude I was capable of making the right decision for the safety of all of us on the rope. It was a tough day and a hard call, but sat in the cable car on the way down to Saas Grund looking back up at the Lagginhorn I was able to smile briefly and tell myself “I’ll be back up there soon enough”.

Back down in the valley my big toes looked an absolute state and fears I’d over done it with exercise prior and turned up tired started to really get to me. Yet it’s amazing what a beer, decent night sleep in a hotel and then rock climbing in the morning sun (wearing big B3 boots) can do. Next up was the Allalinhorn (4,027m), my final chance to get above 4000m before heading to Chamonix for Mont Blanc.