So I decided to climb up as far as I could, nd check things out. I climbed up past another set of fixed lines, around
narrow ledges, up steep rock that in some cases had long chains hanging down
for aid or protection. It was a warm and beautiful day
and I was moving fast. At one
point there was a long slightly upward traverse, protected by a cable, which
was buried in snow. I had to do a
traverse on the rocks above the snow, since I did not want to get my approach
climbing shoes wet. There was a
narrow path on the top of the snow, next to the rock, made by previous
climbers, but the snow was very steep. One slip, and I would be on this steep snow. No danger of injuring an ankle here,
the incline was so steep that a fall meant you were gone, thousands of feet
down, certain death. I passed a group of Hungarian climbers, who were belaying
each other, as was customary on all parts of the mountain. Even the parts that were not steep
climbing were on narrow ledges or ridges where a slip would mean you would
never be seen again. I climbed on
over slabs, up the ridge, skirting snow here and there. It was a beautiful day, I was in the
zone, and very happy to be
on the mountain.
I had set a time to get back, because I did not want to
descend the mountain, find the rappel anchors in the dark, by myself, on
unfamiliar terrain. I went
pass that time, thinking, maybe I could make it to the summit, then I
encountered a large ridge covered in snow, just below the summit, on the Pic Tyndall, a large subpeak 4241
M (13, 914), about 300-400 meters below the summit. I did not want to get on this icy snow ridge without boots,
and I especially did not want to down climb it later when it might be even more
icy. So I decided to head down, and try the whole thing tomorrow, starting
earlier.
I made it down to the hut, doing some simu-down climbing
with a group of nice
Germans, and watched the beautiful sunset over the
Alps.
Massive bolts set into the rock, and long hanging chains.
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