![]() ![]() We rappelled when it seemed appropriate, sometimes downclimbed carefully, sometimes jumped into piles of sand and scree and let them scoot us down more easily. Wow, it sets a record for looseness! Horizontal quartize ledges covered with shards of disappointment that get restacked after any fresh breeze, and that for over 1000 meters. Georg returned and we started down the unknown rock ridge. I took some photos, then went back to the Valsorey summit, moving our packs to south side rock and settling in for a short nap. On top, I saw no sign of Georg, but I knew he should be safely motoring between snowy summits to the east. Somehow the altitude was really affecting me. I contented myself with a slow saunter to the true summit. He took off running down the slope, then back up to the true summit and beyond. He wanted to climb the distant Tssette summit, and would need more than an hour to get there and back. Georg is a collector of 4000 meter mountains, and here his fanaticism enabled him to find another store of energy. Wonderful to level out, able to stand up straight like a proper human and feel the sun again too! Georg came up and we short-roped to the Valsorey summit. Why do we make more work for ourselves with these variations? I'd had enough, and after placing my last ice screw, gunned it for the top, gradually leaving blank ice for good steps in snow. Distance is deceptive, and we kept saying things like "looks like you get the gem of the final headwall!" Three pitches later, the headwall was still high above!Ĭalves tiring, we once saw a man walking on the ridge crest above, peering impassively down at us but not slowing. Deploying the rope, we climbed many pitches with ice screw protection, usually belaying for 60 meters and climbing together for another 40 or so. Finally we realized our mistake and went back halfway, settling for a traversing ascent up the ice shield. Crossing a large bergschrund, we actually stood below it but didn't believe it, chosing to traverse slowly east on tricky ground. Now we traversed glacial slopes looking for our ice way. We dropped down on the north side while they climbed the rocky ridge. Georg heads off alone to tag the remote Tsessette summit.ģ am found us leading a train of climbers up to a high col. A short but steep walk to the hut finally tired us out, and we admired the rocky side of the Gran Combin, steaming above in remnant clouds like Vesuvius. We riffed on an Italian tunnel under Velon, and were generally silly. ![]() We joked about Martigny as a steampunk industrial hub of concentrated decay, extracting value from it's hinterland in the meanest possible ways. We stopped to rest in a sheep-filled meadow and admired Monte Velon on the other side of the valley, a peak that marks the border with Italy. It had rained in this valley, but clouds were lifting to reveal broad green slopes that were restful after the Aiguilles. The hike to the Valsorey Hut was pretty long, but pleasant. I on the other hand found an exciting new backpack, the Black Diamond Epic, which allowed me to store crampons outside among other features. They all seemed to be strange brands, and sat very high on the head "mushroom-like." I didn't blame him for sticking with his old helmet. Surprisingly, we were unable to find a decent helmet in the Chamonix valley. Rockfall on the Hochferner in May had dislodged the inner styrofoam of his helmet, making it a two-piece unit. We stopped at a climbing store to try and buy a helmet for him. There was an enticing ice route, the Northwest Face, and descent via a nearby ridge of rock. So we looked east, and found an island of sun around the Gran Combin. It was raining outside the Belvedere! That won't do. Showered and restored, we asked the next logical question: what about the weather. There are about 25 of them for this segment. I took a different approach with this (very) long trip report. Georg approaches the Valsorey HutPART II. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |