A colossal white dome set amongst jagged peaks, alpine faces and dramatic glaciers. At 4,810m, Mont Blanc is the highest point in Western Europe and looms over the mountain town of Chamonix. It has been on our check-list since our first foray into alpinism last year.

We wanted to climb Mont Blanc independently (without a guide or group), so spent two seasons in the Alps accumulating as much experience as we could with our trusty guide, Ben. After a particularly exciting week in May, we felt ready to start to tackle some easy routes by ourselves. First up was Gran Paradiso, the tallest mountain entirely within Italy. You can read about our experience here. Gran Paradiso was a fantastic introduction to independent alpine mountaineering and a great way to maintain our acclimatisation for Mont Blanc. We felt competent, confident and ready for our attempt at Western Europe’s highest mountain, so it was now just a matter of red tape…

Waiting…

The mayor of St. Gervais recently introduced an arrete municipale (by-law) setting out a list of equipment that all Mont Blanc climbers must have and making hut bookings compulsory prior to summit attempt. As a result, spaces in the huts are notoriously difficult to find.

Waking up and checking the Goûter website became a well-practised ritual during our month long stay in Chamonix. The only spaces I could find coincided with atrocious weather forecasts. With our Gran Paradiso acclimatisation wearing off, we were just about ready to give up and go for the Gonella Route instead. But finally, our patience paid off. We managed to secure 2 spaces at the hut. Our reservation was for two night’s time, leaving us with just one day to ‘top up’ our acclimatisation. The stormy weather in the high mountains didn’t leave us many options, so we decided to amble around in the mist up on the Glacier du Tacul, eventually seeking shelter at the Cosmiques hut and enjoying their famous chocolat chaud.

The next morning, we set off to Bellevue to catch the cable car and then get the Tramway du Mont Blanc up to its top station, Nid D’Aigle.

Sun, Scrambling and Stonefall

We left the Nid D’Aigle train station at 8:15am on Saturday 22nd June, following the crowds up towards the Tete Rousse refuge. We were walking on snow almost straight from the train station – poor quality, slippy snow. It was a relief to find the path steepen as we reached the rocky ridge dropping down from the Tete Rousse glacier. At the top of the ridge, we reached the warden’s hut where we had to show proof of our hut booking. We donned our harnesses and crampons, and got roped up ready for the crossing of the glacier, and the Grand Couloir beyond.

It was hot: around 35 degrees (Celsius) in the valley and above 20 on the slopes. Although I’m generally a great lover of sunny, blue-sky alpine days, I found myself cursing the heatwave for the state of the snow and my sweat-drenched clothes. I was also pretty concerned about crossing the infamous Grand Couloir in such warm conditions.

The Grand Couloir

The Grand Couloir is a gully that runs down from Aiguille du Goûter. You must traverse along a narrow snow path in order to cross this couloir. This is the most dangerous part of the Goûter route, with serious rockfall accidents occurring regularly. It has been dubbed the “corridor of death” and has even been (rather dramatically) compared to a game of Russian roulette. The Grand Couloir is most dangerous in dry and warm conditions when the rocks are most likely to break free from their snowy bindings.

To help mitigate the dangers, the couloir is equipped with a fixed metal wire. This allows climbers to clip the rope between them in order to offer some protection in the event of an accident. When the route is busy, climbers often have to choose between queuing within ‘the danger zone’ or making a quick dash across the couloir without clipping into the safety line.

We had planned ahead, and made good time up to the couloir to ensure that we weren’t held up by other, slower climbers. Our crossing of the Grand Couloir was largely uneventful. The snow coverage, although slowly melting, was plentiful and sticky enough to cement loose rocks in place. Instead of rock fall, we saw only small balls of snow tumbling down the couloir. We made it across quickly and efficiently, and were glad to have the most objectively dangerous section behind us… until the way back down, at least!

Avalanche!

However, as we started ascending the scrambley ridge up to the Aiguille du Goûter, we heard a rumble coming from the gully just off to the right-hand side of us. We saw the group ahead of us stop dead in their tracks and we all instinctively braced ourselves, digging crampons and ice-axes into the slushy, snow-covered rock. We were witnessing our first proper avalanche! As the waves of soft snow came crashing down, they gathered momentum and dislodged lumps of rock from either side of the couloir. The waterfall of snow soon mutated into a huge grey mess of snow, loose rock and dust. We all looked on, mesmerised, until the barrage petered out into empty silence.

Shaken (but not stirred), we recouped ourselves and resumed our ascent, grateful for the relative safety of our position on the rocky ridge. We made our way swiftly up the ridge largely ignoring the cable hand-rails, preferring to scramble ‘free’. The heatwave had cleared the ridge of much of its snow cover, making it an easy (albeit tiring) scramble.

I had expected the Goûter Route to be little more than a slog, but the hands-on ascent up the ridge was surprisingly fun. Just spicy enough to be interesting, but easy enough to count as just a warm-up for the upcoming efforts. I began to feel the altitude as we approached the old Goûter refuge. I felt light-headed and dizzy, and started to black-out whilst bending over to haul myself up rocks. A few squares of trusty Kendal Mint Cake bumped my blood sugar levels back up and got us to the top of the Aiguille du Goûter.

Goûter Refuge

From the old Goûter hut, it was only a short walk along an atmospheric ridge to the huge shining bulk of the new refuge. We arrived before most other people, but it wasn’t long until the hut started to fill up.

The hut was unsurprisingly busy, but was also much nicer than I was expecting. However, I was quite surprised by the gender ratio of the aspirant climbers. Of the 120 capacity, there were only about 8 women (even more of a sausage fest than usual!). There was a film crew shooting footage for a French documentary about Mont Blanc which provided some excitement. If it ever makes its way onto the internet, you’ll find me ruining an important looking interview by making stupid faces in the background!

Sunrise, Sleepwalking and the Summit

We awoke at 1am after a characteristically terrible night’s sleep. After a very quick breakfast, we donned our boots, roped up to each other and set out towards the summit ahead of the others (can you tell I hate crowds?). It was pitch black as we traipsed across the mellower snow slopes of the Dome du Goûter. We followed the lights of our head torches in silence into the bitterly cold night. The clear sky had stripped all the heat from the previous day, and combined with the altitude and the wind, it made for an almost polar night. My hands and feet were getting colder and colder. I am no stranger to cold feet (seriously – they are constantly freezing), but I was starting to lose feeling in my toes completely. I started tripping over my own feet because I literally couldn’t feel the ground beneath them.

Pit Stop

After climbing 100m of steep snow, we reached the Vallot emergency shelter at around 3:30am. Although we had not planned on stopping, I had to go in to try and warm up my toes. I took my boots off and vigorously massaged my feet to get the blood flowing. Just being out of the biting wind made an enormous difference. After around half an hour of shaking and rubbing, I was finally warm enough to make the final push to the summit.

We made our way up a short, steep slope to the distinct twin humps of the Arête des Bosses. I watched the head torches ahead of us snake up and along the airy and aesthetic ridge towards the summit of Mont Blanc. The Bosses ridge is narrow and exposed, requiring concentration and good crampons skills. The wind had become even more fierce. We were now so high that there were no other mountains to shelter us. We were pelted painfully by icy shrapnel and had to fight hard to walk against the buffeting wind. I pulled my buff up over my face for protection, and had to continuously clench and unclench my fingers and toes to keep the blood circulating.

Sunrise

The sun rose just before 5am, treating us to spectacular views in all directions. Once again, my expectations were exceeded. I was overwhelmed by the beauty of my surroundings. We continued on pushing towards the summit and I had a little cry as I walked. I wasn’t sure whether they were happy tears or sad tears. I was tired and unbelievably cold, but we were nearly at the summit and it was so ridiculously beautiful.

Just before the summit, the narrow path passed through a deep crevasse that someone had clearly fallen into not long before. I peered cautiously down into its depths as we dropped down to the flank of the slope to avoid it. I couldn’t see the bottom.

At 5:15am, we arrived at the (underwhelming!) summit of Mont Blanc. It’s unlike many other alpine summits – there’s no Madonna, no cross, no prayer flags. It’s simply a flattened patch of the path where everything happens to be beneath you. We took some summit pictures and I did my little happy dance before heading straight back down. It was far too cold to linger for more than a couple of minutes.

Stumbling, Sick but Satisfied

The glaring downside to being one of the first groups up to the summit was the fact that we were now having to battle one continuous queue of ascending climbers on our way down the exposed, 3ft wide ridge. We were constantly stopping on the precarious edge of the path to allow climbers to pass. Eventually, we passed the bottleneck and could make quick progress on the open slopes. The sun was finally starting to produce some heat and my extremities were beginning to thaw out. However, my time spent at altitude had taken its toll. I felt absolutely awful. I was light-headed, nauseous and had a splitting headache.

We got back to the Goûter hut at 8am. I rushed into the toilets and threw up the little breakfast I had eaten. I drank 3 litres of water and sat with my head between my legs for the next hour, until the sickness subsided enough for me to stomach the descent back to the valley.

The Last Leg

The downward scramble was awkward and progress was slow. Every tiny movement induced a fresh wave of nausea. However, as I got further down the mountain, I started feeling better and better. By the time we reached the Grand Couloir I was actually feeling human again. We didn’t have to queue to cross as we were still ahead of most other climbers, but the midday sun was beating down with full strength. There was noticeably less snow in the couloir than there had been the previous day. As we were crossing, some little stones tumbled in front of me, forcing us to pause briefly in the middle of the couloir. I was terrified that the small trickle would induce a larger stone fall. Thankfully, it didn’t. As soon as the flow settled, we hurried across to safety.

Crossing the Tete Rousse glacier and descending to the Nid d’Aigle station was quick and easy. The slushy snow cushioned our footfalls and enabled us to glissade down the final slopes. By 3:30pm, we were back at our hotel in Les Houches drinking celebratory Mont Blanc beers and eating well earned pizza!

Summary

Mont Blanc was an important landmark in our independent mountaineering journey. It was slightly easier than I had expected (far easier than the ice-climb we did some weeks before up Mont Blanc du Tacul) but also considerably more fun than I anticipated. The fact that we managed to avoid the worst of the crowding on the mountain definitely made the whole experience more enjoyable for me.

However, the summit push was a lot colder than I was expecting. It was definitely the coldest my feet have ever been (even colder than on the notoriously brisk Mount Elbrus in Russia!). I was also slightly gutted to have suffered from altitude sickness on the descent, as I had no problems with acclimatisation on any other routes that season.

Finally, I massively regretted not bringing my DSLR up with me! The views were truly magnificent. My phone pictures are rubbish. I plan to go back and climb Mont Blanc again, although next time via a different route (most likely the Gonella) and definitely with my camera!