Rose Marie, Triolet and the Refugio Dalmazzi - Part 1

Got a call on Friday afternoon from Brian asking about going across to Italy and try to climb a multi-pitch route called Rose Marie (TD+, 440m (1,444 feet), 6c) relatively high up (around 2,800m) on the backside of Mont Blanc and the Grandes Jorasses. The plan was to get all the equipment together quickly then drive through the Mont Blanc tunnel and follow the ridge on the other side of the Mont Blanc massif until the road ran out then walk up to a refuge for an overnight stay - the Rifugio Dalmazzi (2,584m) below the Aiguille Triolet (3,876m).

The tongue and shoulder of the Triolet Glacier


A touch later than planned, all the gear was collected and stowed in Merv the Swerve and we set off bound for the altitude. I have to say Merv performed admirably and we scooted through the tunnel and turned left just before Courmayeur and went through the small villages on the south side of Mont Blanc following the road winding its way carefully through the less and less inhabited valley. When it started to get pretty bleak and the scenery reminded me of the Lake District on steroids I figured we were closing on the point where size 8's would be the order of the day as transport. Sure enough the dusty gravel path soon became an option no more and packs were hoisted as we set off on foot towards the refuge that looked ominously miles away and even more knackeringly far, far higher.

A small sign claimed that the refuge was 2 1/4 hours away and we left Merv at around 7pm. Whomever wrote that sign obviously had a keen sense of humour. The rocky path was littered every step with large rocks making the walking relatively warming and making sure one kept one's foot placements just so. Brian had booked dinner at the refuge and as I was in no mood for a sprint, he set of at hare's pace to get some food in. After an hour or so, thankfully the hot temperatures of the lower valley started to fall away a little and unthankfully the "path" on the top of the increasingly steep ridge it followed started to steepen yet further and fixed ropes could be seen assisting the route ahead. I passed a family of ibex standing on and around an enormous boulder spat out by the glacier dominating the upper end of the valley. They were really amazing creatures with huge curved horns looking like they should overbalance at any time but sure-footedly worked their way around the loose rock. The glacial water was cascading down waterfalls from the tongue of the glacier creating a constant rumble echoing around the valley and amazing panoramic views.

Sunset looking out from the refuge


After a brief drink and a scramble to cut through the start of the moraines proper it was time for the first roped section - a traverse across the top of an exposed small snowfield. With that carefully negotiated the steepness really began with a vengeance and it was necessary tackle the extremely steep rocky roped sections - something akin to grade 3 and low 4 rock climbing! Another hour of this the refuge loomed ever closer perched high up on a large rock step. The altitude was kicking in with happy abandon and I could feel myself breathless after a minimal amount of time but was recovering well after a few gulps of air so figured all the fitness training of late was pretty effective. I finally arrived at the refuge a little before 10pm as the light in the valley really started to dim. A sandwich and a drink followed then loafed around with Brian waiting to feel sleepy (ably assisted by a quick beer - it was Friday night after all!). At around 11pm we headed off to bed to arise at 6am to head out to the climb.

Rose Marie, Triolet and the Refugio Dalmazzi - Part 2

A relatively good night's sleep passed and before you know it we were finishing off a morning cup of tea with breakfast and heading off towards the climb. The route meant we had to cross the moraines by the shoulder of the Triolet glacier above us then hike up the glacier a fair way to get to the starting pitch. Unfortunately we only had about 100m of easy pathway to work with before we were downclimbing a rocky shelf to get to the moraines. These damn moraines - just endless boulders and unstable rocks on often treacherously steep slopes really were an effort in concentration. I had visions of broken ankles and we carefully picked our way through them and jumped onto the clear ice of the glacier with a certain amount of relief. The sound of rocks falling away under your feet and bouncing and cracking their way down the steep slopes was thankfully past!

Ascending on the glacier - the target of our climb is the highest of the three rock pinnacles on the right hand side


We donned crampons and pulled out the ice axes almost as soon as setting foot on the glacier feeling pleased that the blue skies and clear sunlight were providing a good amount of warmth and creating the most magnificent views. The refuge was by now out of sight and we were pushing through the unseasonably deep snow on the glacier fighting for breath and taking care to walk around crevasses. The feeling of only seeing your own footprints on the glacier and being completely alone is really breathtaking and exhilarating. The air was clear, the sun was shining and we were marching off in the middle of an adventure - it doesn't get much better. The noise of all the ice creaking and cracking continually permeated the air with noise and we knuckled down to the business of getting where we needed to be.

Coming up the top section of the Triolet Glacier


After an exhausting couple of hours wading through the deep snow on the glacier we reached the berschrund (a crevasse formed where the moving ice of the glacier meets the rock). Brian weighing as much as a gnat, skipped over the snow bridge to get to the rock but as I stepped on it both feet went straight through and I slammed my arms out to each side trying desperately to get as much surface area as possible onto the crumbling snow - as per the book says. I could feel my feet hanging in space whilst slowly working one leg free to lay on the bridge.

My heart was absolutely pounding in my ears by this stage and I could feel by breath coming in guttural chokes. I worked my other leg free and then slowly and carefully eased off the unstable snow bridge and back onto the glacier proper. A quick glance into the holes my body and feet had made confirmed my fears - the crevasse was deeper than I could see - just an inky black abyss reaching down. Obviously I was absolutely shitting it but forced myself to swallow it down and then try another route. Well I'd obviously not been to church for a while because I managed to do the same thing 2 minutes later on another part of the bergschrund. Luckily I'd probed pretty well with my ice axe and only one foot went through. I wriggled out of it to above the crevasse onto the rock and caught my breath.

It had taken us a hard 2 1/2 hours to get to the climb.

Rose Marie, Triolet and the Refugio Dalmazzi - Part 3

After sorting ourselves out switching alpine equipment for climbing we did a bit of ad-libbing to get into the main climb with Brian leading across a 5+ shallow dihedral and me following pulling out the safety gear. We hooked into the anchor and looked up the next pitch (a 6b/6a) and set off. Brian led out again slotting in the odd piece of protection here and there going well up to a small chimney about 30m above. It started to get a bit sketchy here with Brian taking a few minutes to have a look at the chimney and then worked his way over it. A few minutes later he called down to say he was anchored in and I was on belay to start climbing. I've got to say, I was really, really happy with the way I climbed - a flake to layback and a few crimps here and there, a bit of delicate slabby stuff - was really climbing well - but tired. Pushing with the legs and removing the gear fluidly. I had to leave a cam behind because I couldn't get my fingers into the crack to release it but realised it was in our abseil path down and would be able to get it then.

Climbing up the second pitch of Rose Marie


The rock we were climbing on was the most beautiful golden colour you've ever seen with these huge crystals embedded into it. Nothing like the rock in the crags up and down the valley worn smooth by the endless sport climbers. Of course bits of it were flaky, crumbling and there was loose rock everywhere. Tapping holds before placing weight on them was the order of the day and more than once I had to brush some loose stones off hand and foot holds to get proper purchase. But the colour was the thing that got me - I don't know if we were climbing a giant vertical gold nugget but it felt like it.

I realised Brian's problem he paused at when I reached a black rock chimney with meltwater running down it and an obvious layback move required with poor, wet holds. I tried several times failing to get more than two moves up. Eventually I prussic'ed up the metre I couldn't climb before finding a solid jug hold and hauled myself up the rest of the way up the chimney then positively climbed the rest of the way to join Brian at the anchor.

I still feel frustrated at what I said to Brian next, "I'm gassed, I don't think I've got much more in me". I had plenty left in the tank - all I needed was a 5 minute breather and felt stupid as soon as I'd said it. Brian smiled and said, "well we're nearly over the most difficult part of the climb, just these two 6c slabs up here". I duly got into position and hung from my sling over a 450 foot sheer drop above the glacier to put Brian on belay to continue. He set off upwards and I could see that he was struggling with the first slab but managed to wrangle past it - the second slab was the crux. One move with nothing to hold on to. Brian tried many times, trying new ways past, trying to use gear to get past - all to no avail. Damn - it was the crux of the whole climb and we both felt sure we could go on from there as the rest was only 5+. Slightly deflated Brian came down to the anchor and we swiftly abseiled down the rest of the way to the glacier below.

I'd been seeing a few wet snow avalanches trundling their way on farther slopes away from where we were above the glacier and had been keeping a wary eye out for anything that looked dangerous. Brian had obviously been thinking the same thing and abseiled down to the side of the rock above the bergschrund to pick up the packs and gear we had left there and then performed a rappel traverse to continue down to below the bergschrund so we we didn't need to cross it on foot again.

About two minutes after completing this, a wet snow avalanche slowly trundled it's way down over the bergschrund a bit farther out from where we had stashed our gear and stopped 6 feet from Brian who was looking at the swishing snow rather quizzically! Of course we knew the safe spot (the avalanche was heading down the side of Brian, protected by the rock - and most of the snow would fall into the bergschrund) but it was still strange to watch the whole charade being played out from my rocky perch.

I hopped down the rock and exchanged climbing gear for alpine, roped up with Brian and then headed back down the glacier to the refuge. The snow had softened in the sun (hence the wet snow avalanches of earlier) and so we were sinking in deeper than in the morning ascent - sometimes up to our waists! We made good progess however glissading where possible and laughing and joking as we made good progress down past the crevasses to the moraines. We should have taken boards up there as it would have been fantastic riding!

All ready to go up the glacier


We removed the crampons and untied each other then set off to the refuge. After a nervously cautious but uneventful re-crossing of the moraines I didn't fancy the climb up the rock step we had down-climbed earlier so scrambled up a 50m 45° slope back to the path. By now the sun was in full force and was blasting off the white snow reflecting it's heat into the center of the valley. I wasn't particularly looking forward to the hike back down to the valley floor by myself. But as Brian was going to spend another night in the refuge to climb with a friend the next day I needed to set off and so after a pause to organise equipment I duly set off from the refuge. Rather stupidly - most likely from the fatigue I was now feeling - I forgot to refill my water bottle at the refuge and the walk down became tortuous with a dry mouth and failing energy.

I pushed onwards however until I came to the valley floor a couple of hours later and refilled my water bottle from a fast-flowing meltwater stream that I could see had come straight from one of the glaciers. I few swigs later I felt at least some energy return to my body and so wolfed down a chocolate bar and drove home.

It's a day and a bit later now and I can now feel my body's actually recovered from the sheer exhaustion that it's been put through. On one day there was some 8 1/2 hours alpine climbing through mixed terrain and around 3 hours rock climbing. My hands and arms are covered with nicks and cuts but are healing quickly and my head is much clearer. I don't think I've ever felt exhaustion like that after doing an adventure, I've tan stripes on my head from the cooling gaps in my helmet and my nose is sunburnt but I really can't wait to do it all again.