Revisiting Refuge l'Alpe de Villar d'Arene
The deciduous trees here in the Alps have started to change colour, with that change picking up pace in the last couple of days. When we arrived to start the GR54 everyone had been lamenting the summer that hadn't been. We were lucky that the arrival of consistent good weather pretty much coincided with the beginning or our trek. We had no really bad weather and only one day where we had to put our rain jackets on and off a few times, more because of the fact that were at altitude and the light showers that came through occasionally were pretty cool.
The weather pattern seems to have changed about three days ago, with the forecast for the next week being cooler temperatures with consistent showers during the day and heavier rain at night. Yesterday it became clear that there will be no "Indian Summer" in the Haute Alpes this year to make up for the disappointing spring and early summer. Di wanted to go for a hike, and we all felt like a break from climbing so Di proposed that we walk up to the refuge where she and I spent our third night on the Tour des Écrins. We thought it would be nice for Tammy and HJ to see the area, and it is possible to do a bit of a loop at the end, dropping down into the main valley directly from the refuge. If the weather picked up we might even go a little further towards a more distance refuge in a high side valley.
As we crossed the Col du Lautaret and descended towards Villar d'Arene, HJ commented that the temperature was dropping. I looked at the outside thermometer was dropping. He was right: it had gone from about 14 degrees when we left the apartment down to 4.5 degrees. Happily, it rose again to about 10 degrees as we hit the valley floor. We got out of the car in a light shower and none of us was busting with enthusiasm - except of course "Hiker Di", who is always up for a walk. It wasn't that bad though and we thought we might as well at least get out and stretch our legs a bit although the skies didn't look very promising. As we set off up the trail towards the refuge I made the comment that it was unlikely to be very pleasant 1000 feet further up the hill (referencing Imperial measurements for our American companions), Tammy stated categorically that she wasn't going to hike up 1000 feet. That seemed fair enough given what it looked like ahead.
We paused before the one steep climb to take photos of a steep rock face behind a couple of ridge lines, with mist swirling around it ...
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| Not the best day for a long rock climb |
A little further along another pause for a photo of a cascade on the stream that tumbles down from the valley above ...
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| Colours of Autumn are starting to emerge |
... and a closer study ...
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| Small cascade |
Before we knew it we were up the main part of the climb and everyone still looks pretty happy, don't you think?
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| Are we there yet? |
With the main - and steepest - part of the hike behind us, we wandered up the gentle slope the rest of the way towards the refuge. Another indication that autumn had truly set in was the fact that the herd of cows who were happily grazing at the head of the valley up by the Col d'Arsine when we passed through this way five weeks earlier had moved downhill a couple of hundred metres, trampling the track and covering it in cows*#it!
We tiptoed around the worst of the cow's calling cards where they'd been sheltering in the lee of a hillock and made our way over to where the refuge is situated. This area must have been used for a very time for grazing sheep: there is an old ruined berger's hut on a mound - probably so that the shepherd could keep a watch over his flock - which has been replaced by a more modern building ...
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| Modern shepherd's hut |
As you can see, the shutters have not yet been closed for the winter, so the shepherd must still be using his hut. However, for the time being the cows have really taken over the place ...
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| Just grazing ... and gazing! |
While waiting for Tammy and HJ to catch up Di and I discussed the fact that, although none of the beef we'd eaten in the Franch Alps had been particularly tender, it had all been very tasty. If most of the meat that we've had comes from cows that have the lives of these cows, that would explain it. Strolling around hillsides eating good green grass - and an abundance of flowers with it earlier in the season - would have to make for a scrumptious end product.
Unlike the berger's hut where the shutters were still open, the shutters of the Refuge de l'Alpe de Villar d'Arene were well and truly shut up for the season and all the picnic tables had been packed up and stowed away for the winter ...
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| All's quiet at le Refuge de Villar d'Arene |
It was something of a sad sight for Di and I. When we were last here on a hut sunny August day, there were scores of people occupying the terrace eating and drinking, chooks wandering happily amongst us pecking crumbs, and a couple of young masseurs ministering to sore muscles about where this photo was taken. I guess it's a case of "all good things must come to an end" - at least until the refuge opens again next June.
However, a lovely surprise awaited us à le refuge d'hiver (at the winter refuge) just next door. (Many of the French Alpine Club refuges have smaller, adjoining refuges where people can shelter and spend the night - or indeed a number of nights if they are climbing or skiing in the area, which are "non gardé" but still have beds with blankets and pillows. Closed in the summer, their doors are unlocked when the main refuge is closed up at the end of the season.) There was a French couple from the central part of the country inside, sheltering from the weather while they ate their lunch. We had nice little chat with them. It turns out their son spent six months in Australia last year, including visiting Tasmania and hiking in the mountains. They said he loved it - even though he doesn't go hiking in France!
Back outside, I took a photo of this stone marker behind the refuge before we descended directly to the lower valley to get out of the wind - and avoid the cows#*t - that we'd encountered ...
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| A monument ... or marker? Your guess is as good as mine. |
Shreds of snow still cling to north-facing niches in the flanks of the mountain opposite, and will most surely not melt completely now the weather has changed.
A little ways down the slope into the valley I looked back for a glimpse and decided the stone edifice in the previous photo must have been a marker to the refuge for people coming out of the high valley. The picture I took tells you that it's got a bit cooler and wetter again, with HJ and Tammy hooded against the elements ...
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| Two hooded figures |
Down on the valley floor we were bemused by this spot of sunshine teasing us up the valley ...
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| A brief spot of sunshine |
... but that wasn't the way we were headed so we turned our back on it and headed down-valley. Along the way, we came across a patch of framboises (raspberries), which Di and Tammy tucked into while HJ looked for photos to make ...
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| Picking the last of the framboises |
I took another picture - which suggest to me the Canadian arctic - from the same spot, to show the landscape uncluttered by two-footed invaders ...
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| A bouldery valley bottom |
Near the end of this high, flat valley floor we came across this mysterious structure ...
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| Where does this doorway lead???
At the top of the bluff we paused for a look down to the valley below ...
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| Sunshine illuminates another alpine village
... and just as we dropped over the lip of the bluff we took one last look back towards a glacier reaching down towards us before we descended ...
Le Surplomb Jaune … well, sort of …
The day before we
went for our walk with HJ and Tammy to Refuge l’Alpe de Villar d’Arene we went
back up to Le Ponteil with them. Di and I wanted to do a climb called Le Surplomb Jaune (The Yellow
Roof) and give them a chance to get on Nid d’Aigle, the multi-pitch climb we’d
done shortly after we finished hiking the GR54. Between those two climbs is
another called Ricollet. Here is a photo of two climbers on about the third
pitch of that route, which I took when Di and I were walking back from another
cliff …
My reasons for
including that photo will become clear later in the post.
We’d chosen to go
back to Le Ponteil at this stage was because the forecast for doing a longer
multi-pitch routes at a higher altitude was looking sketchy but we thought we
could probably sneak in a shorter route at a lower elevation. While we were all
gearing up to get on our respective climbs HJ said he thought he felt a spot of
rain but it wasn’t followed up by anything definite so both parties continued
with preparations.
Our
climb actually traverses left around the sandy, loose-looking yellow roof from
which it derives its name, then moves back right above it and wends its way
through a series of four other roofs. Here is a photo showing the line in black
…
Di completed the
rather loose first pitch of our climb efficiently and I set off on the second
pitch, which started with a few casual moves to the left …
Things suddenly
got a lot more interesting as I moved out to the rib to my left and found
myself doing very exposed moves. The guide describes the climb as “Belle voie,
classique et aérienne”, translated as “beautiful climb, classic and airy”. It
had suddenly become very airy: it starts at the left edge of a ledge and moving
left had brought me out over a longer drop.
HJ and Tammy were
making good progress across the way. Although for most of the way we couldn’t
see each other HJ got this photo of me nearing the top of pitch two …
… and Di took
this photo of HJ leading at about the middle of their second pitch, with Tammy
on belay …
As Di was bringing me up pitch three it started
to rain lightly so I sped up as quickly as I could and continued on to the
fourth pitch. There is no easy escape from Le Jaune Surplomb once on it, so we
wanted to minimise any chance of getting caught on the route. Here is a photo
of Di following …
… and another nearing the belay …
At this point, things went just a little outside
our agenda. We could see a very obvious bolt just a couple of metres to our
right and thought that was where the route went. Di duly traversed over,
clipped it and the headed straight up. And, up, and up some more. I was quite
surprised to see that she’d run out 30 metres of rope by the time she’d got to
the belay and started to take rope in rapidly (I couldn’t hear her because of
the distance, the overhanging rock between us and the sound of the wind). I was
even more surprised to arrive at her belay and see that she was at the top of
the cliff. There should have been two short pitches wending their way between a
couple more roofs after the pitch I’d just led, rather than one longer pitch
going more or less straight up. It turns out that we’d moved across to the
finish – at the same grade – of Ricollet so must have missed a bolt that led
back left over the roof I’d belayed beside. This photo shows - roughly - in red where we
actually finished our climb …
It was a little
disappointing to miss out on the airiness of the last couple of roofs, but Di’s
long pitch to finish was also fun climbing.
Putting
our mistake down to experience, we wander over to the top rappel station, where
Nid d’Aigle finishes in time to see HJ doing the last moves …
… and then make
his way up the fixed rope which allows access down to the station for climbers
– like Di and me – finishing other routes …
As the threat of rain had eased he wanted to relax
for a few minutes and get a summit photo with Tammy …
We enjoyed the view for a while and took a few
photos. In the middle of the next one there is a craggy hill just about right
in the middle, which has a group of climbers at its base …
… whom you can see better in this photo …
The top rappel station was a bit cramped. Di and
I scrambled back down to it then I snapped this quirky photo of Di making room
for Tammy to join us …
Finished our climb, we
decided it was good timing to head down to Saint Crépin for some lunch. It’s a
charming little town where I could happily live, at least for part of the year.
It’s got two restaurants and a good bakery and is right in the middle of
excellent climbing, cycling and hiking country (and of course skiing, if you
want to be here in winter).
With lunch done and dusted, we strolled around the ancient part of town and I took a few photos. Here
is a stone house that is enjoying a new lease on life …
… a study of a
pot of flowers in a basement niche …
In the small square by the 15th
century church a huge chestnut tree makes its home. As we have moved into
autumn the chestnuts are ripening up nicely, as you can see in this photo …
 Finding our way to Lac du Combeynot
It's a bit tricky, this working backwards. After consulting with Di, I was able to confirm that it was the day before we climbed at Le Ponteil that she took us in search of Lac du Combeynot. Sorry, but there won't be a lot of pictures for this part of the post.
One big reason for choosing this walk was the likelihood of seeing chamois high in the valley up towards the lake. Directions for finding the start of the walk in Di's guide weren't crystal clear so when we came to a parking spot in what seemed to be about the right place and a couple of people who were clearly hikers set off on an obvious path we followed them, somewhat intrigued that the route didn't seem to be marked as a randonnée. The people we were following turned back but we optimistically - or is that blindly? - continued. Next we came to a tree with an X on it, showing that the path we were on wasn't going to take us wanted to go. There was, however, a faint footpad heading up the valley towards the lake, so we thought we'd pick up the main trail as we climbed higher. Well, up and up we went. It was steep, loose and slippery. The footpad became fainter and fainter. We probably would have turned back, but we knew we were headed in the right general direction and the gradient looked like it was easing. An offsetting factor for the strenuosity of the route we'd chosen was that we passed through a spot where there was an abundance of ripe framboises (raspberries) to linger over.
After more than an hour of hard, uphill walking on no definite track we decided to angle across the broad gully towards where we thought the track must be. On the way we came across a fantastic patch of myrtilles (mountain blueberries) and munched on them for a while. Back on the move, we arrived at a nice spot in the trees on the other side of the gully and paused for a rest, a bite to eat and to decide whether we wanted to continue or not. While Tammy, Di and I sat down, HJ - ever curious as he is - wandered a little farther across the gully and, sure enough, found the wonderful track we should have been on the whole time. Both chagrined and heartened we decided to continue onwards.
Eventually we did arrive at Lac du Combeynot in its stark setting up near the very top of the valley ...
There not being a lot to linger over and nary a chamois in sight we started back. Without putting too fine a point on it, the return journey was a dream compared to the uphill, off-track slog we experienced for a good part of the way up. And, when we got to the bottom we were greeted by the typical information set-up that seems to at the start of any significant track in this part of the world ...
Another little learning experience
and one that we will employ in future
when walking in the Alps:
if you aren't sure
you're at the start of the track
you're looking for,
you probably aren't!
Et On Tuera Tous Les Affreux (And they will kill all the ugliness)
This climb was one of the ones on my to-do
list before we left home. It’s 11 pitches long, graded 5c+ (about 17 in the
Ewbank grading system or 5.9 in the YDS) and is another climb at Ailefroide,
the home of granite climbing in the southern French Alps.
We made an early start and were the first
on any of the routes in the immediate proximity. Here’s an overview photo of
the climb …
There
are a few steep moves on the first three or four metres of the route to get
started ...
…
after which the route kicks back to reasonably low-angled slabs for the next
couple of pitches. Here’s Di nearing the top of pitch one …
The
route gradually steepens through its length. Here’s a photo that HJ took of Di
leading on the fourth pitch. The red ellipses should make it easier to pick her out in front and me on belay lower down …
…
and a couple of her following the 40 metre fifth pitch …
 
The
sixth pitch starts up through a low angle groove (the rope you can see is to
provide security when scrambling down from above to get to the fourth rappel
station) but then returns to some neat climbing…
There
is a bit of a bulge at the end of the seventh pitch. Below, you can see the
broad ledge at the start of the sixth pitch; the ground itself is starting to
look a long way away …
In the next photo you can see Ailefroide in
the middle distance, with the main camping area to the right of the photo …
The
ninth pitch finishes with another small bulge …
The
last pitch had a bit of steeper rock near the middle but finished with lower angle
rambling. Di is about one-quarter of the way into the pitch in this photo …
And
here she is at the top: tired - but happy to have her photo taken against such
a great backdrop …
Not bad for a sixty-four years young granny, eh!
About
halfway down I had to pause to take this photo of a collection of climbers
across the way on La Cocarde (5c+, six pitches) which we’d done a couple of
weeks earlier …
We didn't know it at the time, but this was to be our last long, multi-pitch climb in the mountains for this trip: unfortunately, although we still had a week left, the weather was about to become a bit dodgy for the remainder of our Alps sojourn. Hopefully we will be back to do some more "plaisir" routes in the future.
Rocher Baron & Mont-Dauphin Fort
We visited these two areas on two
consecutive days and, although we visited Rocher Baron first, I’m going to
describe it last because it holds the fondest memories.
Mont-Dauphin Fort
There are many sectors to choose from at
this area, depending on how hard one is climbing and what orientation towards
or away from the sun is required. We climbed on two sectors with routes mostly
in the 5b – 6b range. Our friend Carol joined us for the last part of our visit
and showed us how to climb on this steep conglomerate.
 This next shot shows Di leading a 5c route that varies from just on to just off vertical ...  Here’s another random shot with Di on a longer 6a and Carol in the foreground starting up a 6b+ ...  … and Carol again, making a big move over a slightly bulging section …  While we were at the crag a guy arrived who seemed to be having problems with one foot or leg, as he was using walking poles and moved with a bit of a shuffle when on the ground. However, he knew what he was about on the end of a rope. He’d arrived alone and promptly began rope-soloing with an auto-block (a system which provides protection in case of a fall). In this photo you can see him anchored to the first bolt of the route he’s climbing; he has clipped the second bolt and is pulling through the rope to clip into the third bolt … 
He casually climbed four routes ranging
from 6a – 6b+ in this fashion.
 Rocher Baron
We were delighted that Philippe, the friend
we made on the GR54, was able to come up on a Friday night to come climbing
with us the next day. Philippe hadn’t climbed for 20 years, and when we
suggested he come up from Avignon to climb with us he jumped at the chance.
(The original plan was to have the whole weekend, but work unfortunately
intervened.) Carol arranged for us all to meet and go to Rocher Baron, a
quartzite crag just south of our apartment. It was a really fun day out, and I
hoped to go back to that crag as we couldn’t get on as many routes as we’d have
liked because it was the weekend and the place was full of Italians. (Unfortunately, that's another thing that didn't quite pan out, with the last few days being pretty wet.) There
aren’t many photos for you to look at as were busy climbing as much as we could,
but I hope that the ones you’ll see below will impart the great fun we had.
Here’s
a shot of Philippe and Carol together at the bottom of the crag …
And
here’s a sequence of three shots of Carol styling up a 6b …
  
HJ
took this amusing shot, which I think of as “headless vertical ballet” …
…
and this photo of a bunch of climbers hanging around trying to work out what to
do with themselves …
Phillipe got to do a couple of leads at the
end of the day, which was great. He’s got keen as mustard and has joined his
local chapter of the Club Alpin Français and is off climbing with them this
weekend. (I guess you’d call that “mission successful”). Just as we were
leaving the crag, I saw a small boy of about four and his father (again, from Italy) working
out what needed to be done to get up a section of rock. Here the lad is
checking out the moves …
…
and putting what he’s learned into practice …
We
finished fairly early because it was so busy, heading back to the apartment to
cap off our terrific day out with a meal together: an Alaskan, a Montanan, a
Canadian transplanted to Tasmanian, the Tasmanian that transplanted him, a Kiwi
living in the Haute Alpes and a Frenchman from Provence …
How’s
that for an eclectic bunch, eh!
As I alluded earlier, we didn't get to climb for the last few days of our stay here in the Alpes du Sud so we missed out on doing a few things that were high on the agenda. However, we are pleased to say that we had a good look around, climbed on five different types of rock at seven different crags, did a couple of day hikes on top of the fantastic time we had on the GR54 (Di came out ahead for the trip on the hiking days vs the climbing days 13:12) and had some great cultural experiences. The next post will be about visits to Fort Queyras and Abbey de Boscodon, both built in the 12th century. But to finish off this post, I would conclusively say that it's a great place for hiking and climbing and we'd love to come back some day and do some of the things we missed out on this trip.
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