Reaching The Summit
Entry by: charlie
24th April 2015
Mont Blanc
The top was a patch of snow, with perhaps half a dozen climbers already there. The highest point was a lump of snow that may have once been a snowman, and we took it in turns to balance on this for photos, legs aching or numb. I looked out to the clouds and mist below, it was a cliché seeing see other Alpine peaks like islands in the morning sun. This was not what I expected, I did not feel the achievement of this famous mountain, because it was not my dream or my trip.
Physical muscles, bones, sugar, healthy lungs got to the top following instructions. Another climber behind us was taking his dog – and really I was like that, and nice companion but separated from my master, who this case was my brother and organiser of this trip. He was still at the refuge with drinking flat Coke, trying not to feel too despondent about not making it. Altitude sickness is very strange. Perhaps 400m below the final refuge before the ascent he quite quickly felt nauseous, and, 200m from the refuge there was vomiting. As we had a little time we returned to 500m below the refuge and he was fine, 400m nausea, 200m he more vomiting and nothing could help. Nothing to do but make our way to the refuge building above the glacier, 100m to go, 50m and finally he made it never feeling so sick. The next morning starting in the dark at 4am with nothing in his stomach he ascended another few hundred meters, it was not a good idea and I found myself climbing Mont Blanc without my brother.
The decent was the thing, muscles which had been forgotten for days could now stretch out. Leading a party in fresh snow you can either cut diagonal paths down the slope kicking the crust of the snow aside and double stepping to ensure it compacted for those who follow, or leap using ones body weights to compact the snow with each step. The leaping worked for me. Looking back this was the joy I remember, cutting a new path nothing but more snow to come. I remember looking over the edge of the snow field to the valley beneath, only now really seeing the beauty. Every step bringing me closer to heated discussion and dissection of the day. I actually wonder now if I should have made the ascent or not. At the time it seemed so very important.
The top was a patch of snow, with perhaps half a dozen climbers already there. The highest point was a lump of snow that may have once been a snowman, and we took it in turns to balance on this for photos, legs aching or numb. I looked out to the clouds and mist below, it was a cliché seeing see other Alpine peaks like islands in the morning sun. This was not what I expected, I did not feel the achievement of this famous mountain, because it was not my dream or my trip.
Physical muscles, bones, sugar, healthy lungs got to the top following instructions. Another climber behind us was taking his dog – and really I was like that, and nice companion but separated from my master, who this case was my brother and organiser of this trip. He was still at the refuge with drinking flat Coke, trying not to feel too despondent about not making it. Altitude sickness is very strange. Perhaps 400m below the final refuge before the ascent he quite quickly felt nauseous, and, 200m from the refuge there was vomiting. As we had a little time we returned to 500m below the refuge and he was fine, 400m nausea, 200m he more vomiting and nothing could help. Nothing to do but make our way to the refuge building above the glacier, 100m to go, 50m and finally he made it never feeling so sick. The next morning starting in the dark at 4am with nothing in his stomach he ascended another few hundred meters, it was not a good idea and I found myself climbing Mont Blanc without my brother.
The decent was the thing, muscles which had been forgotten for days could now stretch out. Leading a party in fresh snow you can either cut diagonal paths down the slope kicking the crust of the snow aside and double stepping to ensure it compacted for those who follow, or leap using ones body weights to compact the snow with each step. The leaping worked for me. Looking back this was the joy I remember, cutting a new path nothing but more snow to come. I remember looking over the edge of the snow field to the valley beneath, only now really seeing the beauty. Every step bringing me closer to heated discussion and dissection of the day. I actually wonder now if I should have made the ascent or not. At the time it seemed so very important.
Follow us on Twitter
Follow us on Instagram