Monday evening Chris Andrews and I raced up to the Envers Hut beside the Mer de Glace, for a stuffy night sleep.
Awaking at 4.30am, we had left by 4.55am and quickly walked along the snow slope by head torch. We swiftly crossed the bergschrund with minimal faff and reached rock.
We moved together with good momentum to halfway and paused to adsorb the sunrise.
The final summit pitch is an amusing lay-back crack or leg-jamming off-width, depending on your taste. The reward of a Summit Mary awaits.
A hop, skip and a jog in the rain took us to the Midi lift.
The hardest part was remembering where the car was parked; after having gone up the Montenvers train to the Mer de Glace and come down the Aig. du Midi two days later…
Chris Andrews and I set our sights on the classic Aiguille de Moine. We decided to treat ourselves to the Covercle Hut and hiked up in the rain.
After a solid night sleep, we were on the route early with Chris leading us through the damp start.
Chimney shuffles and squeezes are always an adventure.
Along the way we picked up ‘Solo Keith’ who was in Chamonix for his annual two week hollybobs. He had intended to be on the easy normal route, but finding himself at several tricky steps on the South Ridge, was very grateful to clip into our rope.
Becoming ever more responsible for our mate Keith…
A safe summit in good style.
The summit of Aiguille de Moine had an excellent and unique perspective of the massif.
The decent via the normal route is well marked with cairns and French men, so, with a little intuition, allowed us a quick and casual decent.
“Les Anglais descendent pas mal” – said a French guide
A good friend of mine recently got me Alastair Humphreys book ‘Microadventures – local discoveries for great escapes.’. He said Cora I know you are pretty adventurous and I thought you might like this. He was right, Alastairs book and blog are all about having adventures all year, no matter what, close to home and integrating adventure into your routine.
Last Tuesday I had my first #microadventure, myself and three friends from work packed our panieers with our bivvy kit and some dinner and cycled into the Warwickshire country side.
Setting off from work on Tuesday
We had a vague plan, three of us where cycling to meet Callum at a red pin on a map, dropped randomly between our two places of work on an unnamed road, from here we didn’t know what we would find.
Encouraged by Alastair’s advice for sleeping wild in the UK :
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My first blog and an attempt to introduce myself to the Navlikin Expedition team of 2014 that I don’t already know so well. Looking forward to spending a more sustained period in the mountains than my flying visit to Skye:
Since moving South for the promise of glory in the vacuum cleaner industry, I may have neglected to spend enough quality time with the biggest and only brother (on the right).
However Good Friday saw Chris, Dad Tracey and Myself in Inverness – at the football – watching a most magnificently sunny 0-0 draw. At the risk of having too much excitement all in one weekend we headed to Skye. Late next morning we were standing on Kyle station, bikes in tow. After blasting it over the bridge and along the A87 to Broadfoot we may have well as been in the Mediterranean. Red hills and blue seas – we had hit the bank holiday…
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