Chamonix

Europeans sure know how to climb in style.

I’m accustomed to weekends in the Eastern Sierra that look like this: wrap up work on a Friday afternoon and drive 7 hours into the night. Sleep in the car. Hike heavy packs to base camp on Saturday, kick off summit day Sunday with an alpine start as early at 3am, summit, decamp, and drive 7 hours back to the city. It's 1am by the time I get back home, leaving just a few hours to conk out before the Monday workday.

Contrast my reality with this one: in July 2018 my climbing partner Derek and I made a trip to Chamonix. Every morning we would wake up at 6am, saunter a few blocks from our apartment to the gondola, play in the mountains, then catch the gondola back down just in time to wine and dine. Rinse and repeat. No matter how battered we were after a day out we knew we'd be coddled up in cozy blankets reading a book by sunset.

Chamonix was a treasure trove. We grew accustomed to mixed climbing, building confidence in delicately toeing cracks in the rock with our steel crampons. Many of the easy and moderate routes were crowded, which—thankfully—I found more entertaining than frustrating.

The summit of Petit Aiguille Verte was a jamboree of climbers, guided and unguided, from France, Germany, Italy, the USA, Japan. On Grand Montets we passed a Brit yelling to his partner, “Even though this terrain is easy you should still place pro. Don’t just wander up like a muffin!“ Climbers in bright jackets wove in and out of the snowy ridge like animated Christmas lights.

It was only when the weather took a turn for the worse that we could experience this alpine playground in solitude. One such day was when we climbed the famous Arête des Cosmiques. The two of us found ourselves alone on this popular ridge. We traded crowds for snow, hail, and thunder. Mont Blanc cheekily hid behind the thick fog; we could only imagine the beautiful mountains that towered around us. A truly alpine experience! Iced eyelashes. Numb fingers jamming into hand cracks. Swearing. Bruised knees. Happy hearts. We were exalted as we clambered back onto the platform and caught the last gondola back to Chamonix.

Photo featured in Strava Best of 2018 Photo Contest