In 1971, four young Aussie friends go to Chamonix, France to climb the North Face of the Petit Dru (among other things). The Petit Dru is an 800-meter (2,625-feet) mixed rock and ice climb. Keith Bell, John Fantini, Chris Baxter, and Howard Bevan pair up (Keith and John, Chris and Howard) and unknowingly enter into a no-holds-barred race to the top in this challenging terrain with 10+ other parties.
The friends end up losing track of each other while on the mountain and have two completely different experiences - each described here in Common Climber in a unique "tale of two climbs" stories. On this page, Keith Bell shares his experience in "Horses for Courses: The Dru Derby 1971" while Howard Bevan shares "My Dru Derby"
In a cool trifecta, we also have a copy of the original published account by Chris Baxter. In 1971 the story was published in Argus, the newsletter of the Victoria Climbing Climb of Mebourne, Australia, and Thrutch, an Austal-Asian climbing magazine. Read all three and experience the unique perspectives of each climber!
The friends end up losing track of each other while on the mountain and have two completely different experiences - each described here in Common Climber in a unique "tale of two climbs" stories. On this page, Keith Bell shares his experience in "Horses for Courses: The Dru Derby 1971" while Howard Bevan shares "My Dru Derby"
In a cool trifecta, we also have a copy of the original published account by Chris Baxter. In 1971 the story was published in Argus, the newsletter of the Victoria Climbing Climb of Mebourne, Australia, and Thrutch, an Austal-Asian climbing magazine. Read all three and experience the unique perspectives of each climber!
It had been a long haul up the hill from the Mer-de-Glace but at last we were perched on the Rognon, our climb finally in sight. It was still reasonably early as we settled down to rest then sort out our gear. There were three others who had walked up with me from our campsite deep in the valley – John Fantini, Howard Bevan, and Chris Baxter.
We selected a site among the boulders which had been walled against the elements by some sleepless climbers, brewed up and pulled on duvets for the night under clear skies and horrific cliffs.” As we settled down to cook and devour some rations the oblique rays of the setting sun were making their fleeting pass across our quarry – the North face of the Dru.
More worrisome were the two Continentals who tried engaging us in conversation but gave up when they realised that we were only "Australian." We were given a start time for whatever route which seemed to indicate that we would be better off walking back to catch the first descending train from Montenvers back to Chamonix and beyond. A little later a few other groups camped nearby. At this stage we were unconcerned as the Rognon is also a convenient bivvy for the Bonatti Pillar and West Face. |
Author Keith Bell (L), Chris Baxter (center) and Howard Bevan (R) at the bivvy on the Dru Rognon the afternoon before the climb. Howard and Chris paired up and Howard shares his side of the "Dru Derby" story in "My Dru Derby." Keith Bell and John Fantini paired up and Keith shares his "Dru Derby" story in "Horses for Courses: The Dru Derby 1971." Chris's story is also shared in "The North face of the Dru" reprinted from Thrutch.
(Photo Credit: John Fantini)
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Keith Bell (L) and John Fantini (R) at the bivvy on the Dru Rognon the afternoon before the climb.
(Photo Credit: Chris Baxter)
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The Dru with the North Face hidden on its left. The Dru Rognon can be clearly seen at its base. The Flammes de Pierre forms the right skyline.
(Photo Credit: Keith Bell)
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The day before the four of us had travelled the short distance up the valley to the quaint, picturesque village of Les Praz as it afforded a clear view of the Dru. My thoughts had drifted back to the year before when I first considered doing this climb.
I was sitting around after dinner chatting with the legendary British climber, Don Whillans when he suggested we should do the route. But 1970 was a crappy season weatherwise and the very next day the face of the Dru was obliterated by a shroud of white.
Don soon disappeared to more sunny climes and I was left contemplating the falling rain from one of the make-shift shelters of timber and plastic sheeting that littered Snell’s Field – our campsite up the valley from the township of Chamonix.
In contrast, the following year ended up being a good season and our reconnoitre revealed that much more rock than white stuff was gleaming in the afternoon sun. I had also been joined by some more antipodean climbers, teaming up with John Fantini as a partner for this attempt. On the spur of the moment compatriots Howard Bevan and Chris Baxter decided to join us as a separate rope.
North faces in this hemisphere are cold and shady places and we could only hope that unseen and invisible ice was not coating the rock or filling the cracks.
With equipment sorted and our inner thoughts contained, we settled down on our rocky rampart for the night.
Around 2:30 a.m. we were subjected to a "Fantini Frenzy" followed by a string of alliterative words that basically rhymed with the word "duck" as an English party stomped by us.
I was sitting around after dinner chatting with the legendary British climber, Don Whillans when he suggested we should do the route. But 1970 was a crappy season weatherwise and the very next day the face of the Dru was obliterated by a shroud of white.
Don soon disappeared to more sunny climes and I was left contemplating the falling rain from one of the make-shift shelters of timber and plastic sheeting that littered Snell’s Field – our campsite up the valley from the township of Chamonix.
In contrast, the following year ended up being a good season and our reconnoitre revealed that much more rock than white stuff was gleaming in the afternoon sun. I had also been joined by some more antipodean climbers, teaming up with John Fantini as a partner for this attempt. On the spur of the moment compatriots Howard Bevan and Chris Baxter decided to join us as a separate rope.
North faces in this hemisphere are cold and shady places and we could only hope that unseen and invisible ice was not coating the rock or filling the cracks.
With equipment sorted and our inner thoughts contained, we settled down on our rocky rampart for the night.
Around 2:30 a.m. we were subjected to a "Fantini Frenzy" followed by a string of alliterative words that basically rhymed with the word "duck" as an English party stomped by us.
Getting the message, we arose to see a stream of torches approaching the North Face from all directions: A mad rush followed as we joined the fray as a mass of climbers reached the wide snow slope that delineated the base of the route. There were at least ten to twelve parties at the starting line - who would have thought?
We were all off and running – the Dru Derby was underway.
Random lights were flashing in the darkness, myriad shouts and commands broke the silence, and many ropes criss-crossed as a mass of climbers jockeyed for position. People dodged ice chips and falling rocks, epithets were exchanged between groups as ropes entwined and runners were removed.
We were all off and running – the Dru Derby was underway.
Random lights were flashing in the darkness, myriad shouts and commands broke the silence, and many ropes criss-crossed as a mass of climbers jockeyed for position. People dodged ice chips and falling rocks, epithets were exchanged between groups as ropes entwined and runners were removed.
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Back in Snell’s Camp, my partner John Fantini had kindly suggested that we could save weight by leaving crampons behind - it soon transpired that he meant mine, as I saw him attach his to the straps of his pack.
Kicking steps was all well and good until I reached a steep, icy section; while others front-pointed I was forced to cut steps, but fortunately I was on a top rope and did not lose all that much time. Fantini had powered up a chimney groove. As I moved up into it, I was confronted by about six ropes threaded through his lone sling runner. Momentarily flummoxed, I did what any good second would do, I unclipped all the ropes and proceeded on with the runner tucked neatly across my shoulder. In the end leaving my crampons behind was a masterstroke: Fantini led most of the snow and I ended up with the mixed and rocky pitches. Rather than balancing and scaping about on points, my unencumbered Super RD’s allowed me to climb faster on these pitches. |
A pair of Super RD's used at the time.
(Photo Credit: Stephane Pennequin - Nuts Museum)
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In the race for the higher cracks and grooves John and I reached them first - the rest of the field would now have to follow us. Pressured relentlessly from behind, we had no time to the consult the guidebook or have a leisurely refreshment break. So, we just kept climbing up in fantastic north wall conditions featuring light verglas and ice filled cracks, all captured in a shadowy milieu.
Many times, I placed the clunky Ewbank Crackers (hexagonal sections of aluminium) between walls of rock and ice. Temptation often presented itself too, as I snapped icicles off walls and cracks to assuage a growing thirst. Icy grooves and cracks stacked upon each other as John and I swapped leads up this classic climb with other parties nipping at our heels.
Many times, I placed the clunky Ewbank Crackers (hexagonal sections of aluminium) between walls of rock and ice. Temptation often presented itself too, as I snapped icicles off walls and cracks to assuage a growing thirst. Icy grooves and cracks stacked upon each other as John and I swapped leads up this classic climb with other parties nipping at our heels.
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The North Face of the Dru was first climbed by Pierre Allain and Robert Leininger in 1935 and was considered at the time as one of the finest mixed routes in the Alps. Gaston Rebuffet in his book "Starlight and Storm" included it in his list of "the six notorious north faces of Europe" along with the Eiger, Matterhorn, Grandes Jorasses, Piz Badile and Cima Grande de Lavaredo.
We finally reached The Niche, the giant snow basin nestled in a towering sentry box towards the top of the face. The route moved onto The Niche snowfield then diagonally up and across it to the right-hand buttress of enclosing rock. Given the respite that this provided, John took the only photo that was taken by us on the climb of me negotiating top section of "The Niche." We could also treat ourselves to a chocolate bar and some water on a good ledge before we were off and climbing again. Above us lurked more difficult icy crack and groove climbing, including the dreaded Fissure Allain – the crux of the climb at Grade VI. I scored the Fissure and though hard and icy, I climbed it quickly and well and managed to do it free. Nowadays, and even then, the Fissure Allain is mostly bypassed by ascending the easier Martinetti Crack on its right. On this particular day at least ten parties or more ascended it - a record that probably still stands to this day. Having ascended the crux it was easy to assume that it was all over, bar the shouting. Instead, we were confronted by another four or five hard pitches, until the ground eased onto the Quartz Ledge with the summit in easy reach. |
Keith negotiating the "The Niche."
(Photo Credit: John Fantini)
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The sun was also starting to draw long shadows, forcing us to quickly leave our airy perch for the freedom provided by this ledge. It led to a long series of steep abseils on the other side of the Dru. About eight to ten abseils were required, given that, at the time, we climbed with 40-metre ropes. Once down only a snowfield separated us from our shelter for the night – the Charpoua Hut.
While only a couple of hundred metres away - by the way the crow flies - the heavily crevassed snowfield required wandering to the left and right to find snow and ice bridges to negotiate the line of parallel slots that impeded our progress. As the very last vestiges of light disappeared, we finally arrived at the hut to be welcomed by the young guide who was its guardian. Fortunately, I was a member of CAF (Club Alpini Francaise) and we did not have to pay to stay. |
A map of the descent route. The Chapoau Hut is between the snowfields and scree below the Flammes de Pierre. Owing to 'Climate Change' the old route (dashed line) from the Mer de Glace has been superseded by the red one. (Source: refugecharpoua.wixsite.com/refugecharpoua/blank)
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The Petit Dru Descent. Photo shows the Charpoau Basin fringed L to R by the Flammes de Pierre Ridge, Petit Dru, Grand Dru, Aiguille Sans Nom, Point Croux with the high snowy triangular peak; the Aiguille Verte. The conical peak on its right in the middle of the photo is the Aiguille Moine. The Charpoau Hut is situated about halfway down the rocky peninsula that runs down from the base of the Grand Dru with the Mer de Glace forming the bottom of the photo.
(Photo Credit: Keith Bell)
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On the Mer de Glace with Montenvers in sight.
(Photo Credit: Keith Bell)
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For many hours we expected to be invaded by the hordes of the day, but this did not account for the difficulties of traversing the heavily crevassed Charpoua Glacier in the dark. Frequent inspections of the descent route also did not cast any light, so we had to assume that the rest were bivouacking on the route, or might have remained high to continue a traverse of the Drus.
After an early alpine breakfast, John and I started down the steep slope that led to the Mer-de-Glace. Once on the ice, it was an easy walk down the glacier to the access ladders that led to the arched parapet of the Montenvers Station and its lookout.
Across on the other side of the "River of Ice" the granite pyramid of the Dru stood triumphant on its rocky pedestal.
After an early alpine breakfast, John and I started down the steep slope that led to the Mer-de-Glace. Once on the ice, it was an easy walk down the glacier to the access ladders that led to the arched parapet of the Montenvers Station and its lookout.
Across on the other side of the "River of Ice" the granite pyramid of the Dru stood triumphant on its rocky pedestal.
The North Face of the Dru is a superb route and undoubtedly a real classic by any standards. Experienced climbers on the route at the same time rated it as an outstanding mixed route. Our ascent was made under poor conditions with a large amount of ice on the route which added to its difficulty, but even under optimum conditions it would still be a sustained and serious undertaking.”
- Chris Baxter, Thrutch, Sep/Oct 1971, Page 19
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So entranced by this granite sentinel, I got John to take an obligatory photo of me with the Dru in the background. Once taken we began the long trek down to our valley campsite forsaking the easy option offered by the scenic motor rail connection between Montenvers and Chamonix.
But we wondered, what of Howard and Chris? In the morning melee, Chris and I had touched base at times as we scrambled up the initial snow slopes. A little later John helped Chris lift his pack onto his belay ledge and higher up shouted down to him that there were still hard pitches to negotiate. Above The Niche we lost all contact with our friends. Back at the campsite some hours after leaving the Charpoau Hut, John and I were basking in the sun after three hard days on the heights. As the afternoon drifted towards dusk, we, along with Chris' friend Mike Brown, anticipated their return before sunset. But back in the pack, Howard and Chris had a very different experience. It is best that Howard now tells their story. |
Keith at Montenvers with the Dru in the background the day after the climb.
(Photo Credit: John Fantini)
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