The third installment of our Chamonix trip has taken slightly longer to post that I anticipated - I write this on the edge of the Sahara desert in an amazing oasis called the Hotel Asalay - an extra ordinarily beautiful desert dwelling in the town of M'Hamid with the Saharan sand dunes pressing hard on its doors! I am on a 4x4 safari with my Brother -
www.impalaadventures.com - this blog is not about Morocco but the parallels with the glacial majesty of the Alps are strong - nature in its raw and powerful state, one hot, one cold, but with equal beauty and soul.
The delay has not dulled my memory of our last day in Chamonix. We awoke to a clear day revealing the incredible campsite we had chosen in the white-out of the night before. My mid-night excursion revealed a silhouette that we could now see clearly, with jaws gaping - we were surrounded by jagged peaks, sheer ice walls and crushing glaciers, with our track to the right clearly in view to the highest cable car in its day, the Aiguille du Midi at 3842m - still dwarfed by Mont Blanc at 4 8! - we had 700m of vertical rise in a clear blue sky with the heat creating a real concern.
In the politest of ways, it was clear from the morning "short walks" that dehydration was going to be a potential issue. None of us had drunk enough in yesterdays big effort, nor during the night - to start the day dehydrated was going to be tough and a good lesson for us all to learn before going South!
I observed a little lesson on camping routines too - we had 2 stoves, but for some reason, only one was lit that morning to melt ice; from wake up to skiing took over 3 hours - my expectation is for this to be less than 1 hour in Antarctica!
Once again I mixed the teams to help my assessment of physical and mental capability - this was going to be another tough day! After a good 30 minute climb, we stop to drink, check routes and modify our dress (yet more lessons on "starting cold" as the most effective way to go). Looking back over our shoulders we can see our awesome "camp site" some distance below us had some visitors. We joke about the camp site owners coming to collect their fee, but we shortly find out it is a small group of Italians who clearly know about cross-country skiing - they overtake us in the next hour! In our defence, they were using our well trodden tracks and were carrying rucksacks the size of a packet of peanuts and they would not have lasted long in Antarctica wearing Lycra!
We press on under the blazing sun, shedding layers and sweat and being passed by skiers coming down from our destination - skiing downhill seemed tempting but considered by all as cheating too! We change the lead frequently; it is a tough job breaking trail - your need to lift your skis to press the snow down, the 2nd, 3rd and eventually the 8th man just needs to slide along in the "tram lines".
Were the sun not directly overhead, I could have said that we stopped for lunch in the shadow of the Aiguille du Midi it was that close. Mike and Pete gently argue about the various peaks surrounding us with comments of "Oh, yes, been up that one" and "Are you certain that's the blah blah blah peak etc" - great local knowledge that reinforced the massive variation in climbing experience within my team - but, hey, we aren't climbing to the Pole - we're skiing and cramponing (if that's a word)! Sailor Steve was still bemused by their fascination with rock, and we agreed then that we would take the team for a "sailing team build" to "show them what for"!
We ate well and fueled up on the last of the "Haribos" and with an "almost there" attitude we pushed on for the summit.
It is a dangerous attitude I should know well. The last "few feet" never are! We beast ourselves up a crazy steep slope led by Mike Dann who tends to accelerate as he approaches peaks (handy attitude if the end is absolute and clear). We rest with nothing more above us that a short cross slope and a steep ridge path with breath taking drops into Chamonix town (if you fell off the ridge, your next stop would be 2500m below in the main square)! Those last "few feet" were ridiculous. We slipped and swore struggling to keep a grip in the lung bursting ascent. At 3900m, our breathing was laboured to say the least. Each step was accompanied by a whole series of gasping breaths.
With deep respect, as we climbed the last "few feet" so a couple of French paragliding skiers, passed us on the ridge, deployed their chutes and leapt off the plunging cliffs to arrive moments later after a short "flight" at the lift bottom!!
Big Matt worked phenomenally hard on that last part. The rest of us pushed on with crampons on touring boots, while Matt had to work with Alpine boots designed for down-hill!! The pain was clear for all to see, but so was the determination.
Taking our skis off at the cable car mouth felt good - large "hurrahs" all round, our descent belittled our efforts as only a few short moments later we found ourselves packed into the sardine can of a lift with a multitude of humanity for a quick descent. We felt for our "cable car cabin mates" as we had been working and sweating for 3 days "sans douche" - the stench was palpable!
And so our first Ice Training ended. We returned our kit, enjoyed a couple of beautiful cold beers and a burger in the sunshine on Chamonix high street, recounted our exploits and daring do's, laughed and joked, returned to our Gite, packed our bags and split up; a number of us returning to the UK that night and the rest staying on.
This was now the beginnings of a team. It felt good, it was good. We had pushed hard, learnt much about ourselves and each other and had a real sense of belonging. The humour and banter never waned and was always inclusive and with good intent. We have a long way to go, but we have time. I am critical, but only with respect to our goal - a new World Record. I would quite happily cross Antarctica, or any other continent, with these guys, and we have the makings of a true "record breaking" team, but between now and then we will all need to focus and grow - we have much to do!
Sitting here now with a full moon bathing the palm trees and dunes in a blue light, I reflect on that week on the ice. It was the same moon, I am the same person, but I am now feeling very much a part of a tangible team with a real sense of purpose, and a capability that I know can achieve the goal of a new World Record in honour of Scott and the great explorers of previous ages, for Britain in its pending Olympic year, for our supporters, sponsors and family and, most importantly, for ourselves!
Hurrah indeed.
Manley
(and if I post this Blog in just over 3 minutes time, it will be my birthday - a sprightly 49 and getting closer to my prime)!
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