
Yesterday we climbed Mont Blanc via the Three Mont Blancs route, and snowboarded down the North Face of the peak to Chamonix.
We decided to do it six weeks ago, and have been training ever since. Charlie and I (31 and 30) are both of average fitness for Brits living in Chamonix, but we knew we needed to get our fitness as good as we could get it for Mont Blanc. We did three days on, one day off training for six weeks - snowshoeing up the Pierre A Ric homerun at Grands Montets (+1000m), snowshoeing up the Col de Passon (+650m at nearly 3000m), walking up the Merlet trail (+800m), walking up to Plan d'Aiguille (+1300m), with heavier and heavier packs, adding snowboard boots and snowboards to the climbs in the last week of training. With hindsight I think that this type of training was spot on, although we could have done some longer stuff. The Mont Blanc climb took us nine hours!
Acclimatization was spending the occasional lunchbreak wandering around up at the Aiguille du Midi (3842m), and we slept up there Friday night - cold and uncomfortable. If you decide to sleep there, bring a mat and bag, and if it's baltic, go sleep in the toilets - smells like sh*t but a lot warmer! During acclimatization I struggled a lot - I had headaches, felt weird, like I was about to faint; I even puked up when we slept at the Midi.
As snowboarders, the efficiency and luxury of skinning wasn't possible for us. So gear-wise, we had MSR Denali snowshoes, hiking poles, first-layer/fleece/insulator/Gore shell clothing, long johns and gore trousers. Grivel alu crampons and short hand ice axes. In the first-aid kit I had headache remedy, paracetamol, sunscreen and anti-nausea tablets. With a 2L camelback, five Powerbars and 1200ml of Powerade, plus snowboard, 3L Gore mitts and harness, my pack weighed in around 16kg.
We are both pretty savvy with riding on glaciers and routefinding in avalanche terrain but neither of us have had much mountaineering experience - so we hired Lars, a Belgian skier/snowboarder and high mountain guide, to take us up. He cost 750€ and was worth every cent. I'd recommend him if you're planning a similar trip, link below.
So, after sleeping at home in the valley on Saturday night, we headed up the Midi Sunday afternoon and got to midstation. Oops - I'd left my thermal pants in the car - amateur, damnit! Fortunately my girlfriend had her pass on her so she brought them up. Luckily we weren't on the last bin so there was time. We then went on up, got to the top, walked to the ice cave, crampons and harness on, rope up, walked down the unequipped arête in a whiteout, got to the Midi plateau, put our boards on, traversed over to below the Cosmiques and bootpacked up the 30m to the refuge (3600m). Lars had reserved the refuge for us and it cost us 51€ each for a three-course evening meal, breakfast and accommodation in bunk rooms (14 people per room). The refuge is modern, non-stinky and beautifully furnished with a big sun terrace. Apart from the St Bernard monastery it's the nicest refuge I've ever been in. However, watch out; there was no free drinking water so you have to buy heli'd-in 1.5L bottles for 5€ (!) - luckily we'd brought a few up so didn't have to spend anything while there. Dinner was excellent - veg soup, beef stew and some passion fruit dessert thing. Waitress service, the works. The refuge felt really homely and warm and helped settle my nerves for the trip. Fortunately, they put you in rooms with others waking up at the same time as you - breakfast is served at 1am, 3am or 5am - so we even got a bit of sleep.
We were up at 3am and from the balcony could see the headtorches of those who'd been up earlier criss-crossing the Mont Blanc de Tacul. After a bowl of cereal and some toast and tea we were kitting up, riding down from the refuge back onto the plateau, arriving in the dark at the foot of Mont Blanc de Tacul.
The Tacul was, for me, the scariest part of the climb so I was happy that it was pitch darkness and I couldn't see the disgusting 800m+ exposure below or constant serac-fall hazard above. We snowshoed the frozen skintrail, and at the bergschrund (giant crevasse at the bottom of the face) had to tiptoe along a narrow snowy ridge, slackline-style, to get through. A few minutes later we met a French guy who'd lost his crampons and was looking around for them under the seracs - glad I wasn't him. Once through the bergschrund gnar, we pushed on fast, arriving at the shoulder of the Tacul in two hours, as the sun started rising over the Matterhorn and Monte Rosa in the distance. We were happy to have knocked the Tacul off so fast as we'd heard nothing but horror stories and warnings about this windloaded, serac-y place.
At this point we were at 4120m, not too tired and not ridiculously high up. We hadn't been overtaken by many people skinning either, which was a miracle considering we were not that quick on snowshoes. The other side of the Tacul revealed a descent of -100m to the base of the second peak of the morning, Mont Maudit. We switched back to boards and rode to the base, then put the boards and snowshoes on our packs and switched to crampons which had better purchase in the still-hard morning snow.
We pushed up Mont Maudit, roped together, starting to feel the fatigue gnaw and wind chill our bodies. After 90 minutes of climbing we arrived near the top of the Col de Mont Maudit, a steep pitch you have to semi-ice-climb. There were about 30 German climbers there, screwing around with a spaghetti of ropes and three or four crazily complicated pulley set-ups. After waiting half an hour for them to get on with it, and seeing no progress, our guide Lars cut around them and belayed us up the pitch.
As soon as I got to the top (4345m), I started feeling the altitude pretty badly - I had an enormous, pounding, hangover-style headache and nausea. Charlie gave me an aspirin and I drained my Powerade (apparently it helps pretty well) and started chugging my water. The aspirin sorted the headache and we were soon good to go. At this point we were in the Col du Brenva and I'd envisioned a shallow, slow climb up the east ridge - like it looks from Chamonix. Not so. From the Brenva a huge panorama revealed itself - I could see the skintrack climb, descent, go up steep sections, past seracs, across flats - a long, arduous, white, technical assault course to the summit. I started to doubt I could make it but Charlie's enthusiasm was infectious, so we pressed on to to the Mur de Côte, a steep face at the start of the true Mont Blanc summit, climbing ever higher to the peak.
We were taking one pace every three seconds here. And it got worse. The higher we got, the less I could breathe - we were stopping for ten seconds in order to walk for ten seconds near the summit. I knocked back another aspirin and kept at it. My hip and inner thigh muscles were in bits and my shoulders agonisingly painful from the weight of the pack. It was getting hot and sweat was pouring down my face as the summit edged closer and closer. Despite the aspirin the hangover-type headache was back and I was feeling weird, otherwordly, like I was in a videogame or movie watching this character climbing a mountain.
Then, before I knew it, we were there and crested the summit together, nine hours after leaving the refuge. I was drained; I collapsed face first and lay in the snow for a full minute, then got to my feet, burst into tears and threw up. Not exactly the summit experience I expected, by one I'll remember. No wind, blue sky, nice temperature - I was wearing nothing but a fleece and a first layer and was fine.
We rode down the North face, through snow that resembled Grands Montets at 11am on a powder day - chopped up, soft and deep. Lars found us a few untouched sections which were really nice, and the scenery was outstanding - seracy and glacial like the Vallée Blanche but bigger, gnarlier and scarier. We were riding for the views and the altitude loss, not for the thrills. Never thought I'd say that but there you are.
Before we knew it we were down at the Bossons glacier, which we traversed roped on snowshoes, then slogged two hours back to the midstation at Plan D'Aiguille, wallowing through deep, sh*tty, slushy snow as we fought to make it for the last bin down to Chamonix.
Thirteen hours after leaving the hut, we were through with it and went straight to Chambre Neuf to celebrate.
In hindsight, I wouldn't have changed much; maybe another two nights at altitude to acclimatize better, and longer uphill hikes to increase my stamina. Gear-wise, I never needed my windbuff or insulator layer, and didn't eat three of the five powerbars I brought, so could have saved some weight there. I broke both my poles (lost the baskets) and my right snowshoe was only held together by one tiny piece of steel by the end.
If you're thinking about climbing Mont Blanc, the above should help you. Just know it's hard if you're a mortal, like me. Anyone who tells you it isn't hasn't done it. It's a magical, once-in-a-lifetime experience. After we decided to climb it, we decided to use it as an excuse to raise money for a children's hospital in London called Great Ormond Street - so far we've raised over £2000.
Links:
www.justgiving.com/snowboardmontblanc - not punting for sponsors here, just happy we've acheived such a lot.
http://www.mountainpenguins.com/ - Mountain guide Lars is someone you ought to hire if you're doing Mont Blanc - or, for that matter, anything else in the Chamonix area.

Charlie

Me

Lars

Gearing up at the bottom of the Midi arête

At the Cosmiques hut

The Midi from the Cosmiques


Alps from the Tacul

Kitting up on the Tacul shoulder

Mont Maudit approach & climb

Tacul backside from Mont Maudit

Mont Blanc from Col du Brenva

Still climbing!

Made it! Summit shot

Chamonix from 4807m

Sponsored by... ;)

Starting our descent of the N face...not actually that steep...

Seracs

More seracs

Nearly down.









