I touched down in Geneva on Sunday morning after a full day of travel from Seattle, hopped on a bus to Chamonix Mont Blanc, and was greeted by my now local friend and climbing partner, Dale. “The weather is good,” he said. “We should go climbing today.”
This trip was multiple years in the making and had been postponed multiple times due to accidents and injuries. After a ski injury this spring, we’d pushed it from July to September. Inevitably, a week before I headed out, it snowed multiple feet on the massif. We decided for me to come out regardless and simply play the hand we were dealt in terms of weather and conditions. So, with good weather, we went straight for it.
We suited up, got to the cable car base station at about 1pm, and were heading down the snow arete from the Midi by 2pm. 9,000 feet above the valley floor, we had been quickly transported into a completely different world—a winter wonderland with snow crystals whipping over the arete in the wind. After a short but heads-up walk through this section, the scene changed again to that of calm on the gentle glacier below. We walked across and then spent some time at the base of the route, eating our lunch in the sun.
The first section of the route was mainly scrambling in boots and crampons with an axe handy. It wasn’t terribly exposed and was pure Type 1 fun. We eventually got to a rappel station where it seemed prudent to use our rope rather than solo down, so we did, taking in the alpine ambiance and views of both Mont Blanc as well as the Aguille du Midi looming above us with tourists leaning over railings for photographs. From the base of the two short rappels, we simul-climbed through fun terrain, eventually getting to the crux, which felt strange to have such obviously manufactured foot holds for crampons. It was fun nevertheless and we soon emerged high on the ridge with just a short traverse to the Midi observation deck.
If this climb reached the summit of a peak in the North Cascades, it would be an absolute classic—the climbing reminded me a bit of the Stuart Glacier Couloir but was more straightforward and without the solitude or nerve-wracking commitment associated with being 10 hours from the car. We’d casually left town at 1pm and were back down having burgers and beers by 5:30pm. Chamonix is a different world.