Mountaineering, 'Canford Alpine Venturer Tiger', France, Jul 2010, ID 930

Canford School CCF

Monte Bianco – A New Venture

This summer, twelve cadets from the Canford School CCF linked up with the Italian Alpine Regiment in Perenni Barracks, Courmayeur, to conduct some Alpine climbing. The task was clear enough: twelve cadets and two members of staff guided by Bill Billingsley from the Royal Marines and Jerry Dolan along with three Alpini guides and funded by the Ulysses Trust in part would train over five days and then, after a day’s rest, scale Monte Bianco or Mont Blanc.

Monte Bianco here we come

12.45 am and suddenly the hut burst into life with purposeful, silent activity as we fitted our harnesses, crampons, gloves, head torches and grabbed some breakfast. Roping up by head torch in the cold crisp night added to the atmosphere and the string of torches bobbing up and down in a long line quickly snaked away into the inky night, each creating a small pool of ghostly white on the ground upon which our eyes, our hopes and our worries were focussed as our crampons crunched rhythmically into the frozen surface.

We wound our way up the steep broken crevassed glacier tumbling down from Mont Blanc du Tacul, gaining 600m in the first ninety minutes. That was good, but we then dropped down before beginning the big climb up Mont Maudit, another ridge, separating us from the main peak. It was steeper yet than any of us had experienced and as we reached last hundred metres the path increased in gradient sharply – it looked almost sheer, I promise, and we then hit the bottle neck of swearing climbers and tangled ropes all jostling for space up one tiny shute. I had forgotten – we were in France of course, so why should I expect anything different? Our Alpini laid the ropes and gradually we kicked our way up on the front two prongs of our crampons and hauled ourselves up yet further having arched our ice-axes firmly into the solid snow ahead of us: thwack, crunch, crunch, up another foot and again thwack, crunch, crunch: we were being given a taste of real mountaineering and to be honest, without this we probably would have felt cheated. As the last of our party crested Mont Maudit at 4345m, the sun rose up far away over the Eastern Alps and bathed us all in a pink then orange, then a shimmering white light of indescribable beauty. Only another 500m to climb and it was absolutely stunning. Peaks far below us swathed in wreaths of whispy mist and cloud stretched for miles and miles. Surreal really, with huge cornices and massive icicles shining in the light whilst ominous angular monolithic and angry battered lumps of ice as big as five storey buildings crushing each other in a vain attempt to fall down the valley, stood silent, dark and ominous below us.

We then quickly gathered ourselves, rehydrated and then set off once more winding our way washed with extraordinary views upon every side. It was a weird detached feeling, looking down upon the thousands of people still fast asleep, having watched the World Cup final the night before in their world and we aliens still knew nothing of the result. Superior, all conquering, above humanity and fully confident in oneself – it was a special moment, albeit self-indulgent. The altitude kicked in at that point as if to sober us up and remind us of our mortality and our steps slowed and the exhaustion set in doing its best to overwhelm us. It was hard, very hard indeed, but inch by inch, foot by foot we reeled in the summit and then suddenly we simply found ourselves sharing an indistinct ridge about fifty metres long with thirty other exhilarated people gazing outwards whilst communicating silently bound by one goal and one achievement above an oblivious world beneath waiting for the eight o’clock news.

D P Culley, Lieutenant Colonel, Expedition Leader and Canford School CCF Contingent Commander

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