No Saxonnex please we’re British.
In association with DMM, Mammut and Vasque.
I knew after my Nepal fiasco I wanted to climb… I needed to climb, but driving to the Alps on Sunday the 7th all the reports were of snow… and lots of it. I felt weak and unfit and a virus clung to me with a passion as strong as Jeremy Clarkson has for the combustion engine.
What to do? Go skiing then. Hmm… The Toula in Italy, 1000-metres of deep powder, altitude, attitude and the psyche of the team – Cool, Helliker, Emmet, Griffiths, Baird et al was too much, and after 4-hours sleep I crumpled much to the surprise and enjoyment of the team…
Times like these call for radical decisions, so the next day Kenton and I walked into Mont Saxonnex crag, the scene on my new route last year with Neil Brodie and checked the conditions, then we shopped for food and snow tyres, a paraffin heater for Kenton’s house that has no central heating, (for crying out loud, this is the Alps and its winter!) and, then did that weird thing called rest.
Wednesday 10th Dec. Kenton and I walked into Mont Saxonnex and after a false start on what we knew was a new ice line, (it was pouring water, very fragile looking and steep, (my God was it steep) – and it was my first route of winter, Kenton’s first route of winter, (and he was rapidly going down with the lurg) and finally in the long list of excuses this was my first route since realising I’m not bionic) so we opted for the less insane line which is called Douche Écossaise. This goes at M5, though it felt quite spicy at that especially so teetering above two tied off stubby screws. On the second pitch I opted for a thin chandeliered wall which after 40-metres found me gasping and grasping with arms burning and bursting. Finishing off the route with a funky free standing pillar finished us both, but left me thinking I was on the up. Kenton melted on the way out, but did retain a sly grin of satisfaction.
Thursday the 11th saw Brodie and me climbing Nuit Blanche, steep and unrelenting, it felt very much more sustained than last year and led me to think I’m definitely not bionic.
Saturday had me regretting a weights session on Friday as I hung from one arm clattering and destroying bubbled chandeliers and feeling pumped. Water gushed and sprayed me as it caught on the breeze caused by snow flumping off the branches of the pine trees. Brodie stood belaying at the base of the ice line Kenton and I had failed to climb on Wednesday. The line was the fully frozen version of two dry tool climbs called M6 Sunar and L’axe du male. What a difference, I now had the restored confidence and mileage of the two previous routes. Large soggy lumps ripped and my feet tore and water pummelled into my arms and legs, I looked down to see Brodie having a conversation on his mobile and immediately my new found bravado went the way of the chunks of pillar, until I reminded myself he was a modern multi tasking Mountain Guide so it should be ok if I fell?
The pillar grew more chandeliered and steep. I kicked my outside foot in an attempt to bridge between the pillar and the rock to stop the barn door effect of my body but the boot smashed and tore and wafted into space repeatedly. My body fought to control the swing until at last a straight arm and a full body stretch hooked solid ice before the final overhanging pulls to the ledge.
Brodie pulled on to the thin left hand pillar of the second pitch. Pine trees covered in snow glowed in the weak afternoon sun and continued their shedding of winter weight. The Mont Saxonnex church bell struck midday, the chimes echoing up from the valley and penetrating the swirling cloud. Silhouetted, Brodie crashed and swung onto the front of the pillar tensing and testing his body until disappearing into a cave beneath the final 20-metres of madness, which led him, and ultimately me, to the success we craved.
Reaching the base of the new ice variation which we decided to call, Who needs sex, we get hotaches, WI6 100m, Brodie suggested another climb to the right, which, seriously overhanging in parts, culminated in a mind blowing icicle. Namasté Ole M7 and WI6 was certainly the piece de resistance and all I needed to convince me my winter was back on track.
All information on Mont Saxonnex is found in the guide Cascades de Glace du Mont Blanc au Léman Tome 1, published in 2007 and compiled by Batoux and Seifert.