Night Cap - The Plan by Howard Bevan is one of a trio of humorous stories about the first Australian ascent of the East Face of the Grand Capucin in Chamonix, France in 1971. In story two Keith Bell shares his side of the experience with A Grand Night Cap.
The third story in the trio - Fiasco on the Grand Cap - 1969 - takes place a couple years earlier on the first attempted Australian ascent of Grand Capucin by Mike Stone and Ian Guild (friends of Howard and Keith). Common Climber is fortunate to be able to re-publish Mike's original story that was featured in Thrutch magazine in 1971. Mike Stone passed in 2019. In honor of Mike's contributions to the climbing world, Keith Bell provides a tribute.
The third story in the trio - Fiasco on the Grand Cap - 1969 - takes place a couple years earlier on the first attempted Australian ascent of Grand Capucin by Mike Stone and Ian Guild (friends of Howard and Keith). Common Climber is fortunate to be able to re-publish Mike's original story that was featured in Thrutch magazine in 1971. Mike Stone passed in 2019. In honor of Mike's contributions to the climbing world, Keith Bell provides a tribute.
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Prologue
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POSITION - yes, that was the magic word in alpine climbing. Especially in popular locations such as Chamonix.
Having decided on a route serviced directly by Chamonix’s Midi Téléphérique, there is a protocol that you should be aware of. Your first task is to arrive at the lower station early; this gives you a chance to position yourself hard up against one of the large glass doors that provide access to the station. The tricky French had long since worked out a “fair and equitable” system of loading the first few cable cars for the day. The lower station had three doors, and the Midi staff took their life in their hands by selecting one door at random each morning to be the first to open. If you guessed correctly you had then to survive the race across the station foyer; not as easy as it sounds. You had not only to be fleet of foot, but practiced in the art of ducking and weaving like a boxer in order to avoid the ice axes and exposed crampons being brandished indiscriminately by the competition. And trust me - this was a competition. All right, so you have breached the station, crossed the foyer and positioned yourself near the front of the slightly more orderly queue leading directly to the cable car’s portal. Again, position is all important. Your whole team, whether two or ten - and I cannot stress this enough - MUST act as a tightly bound Greek phalanx. If you lose one of your climbing partners in this initial skirmish, it is unlikely that they will recover and make it onto the first car with you. And you MUST make it onto the first cable car of the morning. |
The Grand Capucin in Chamonix, France. (Photo Credit: Wikipedia)
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Having, against all odds, succeeded in boarding the first cable car, it is vitally important that during the spectacular ascent you do not mention the climb you are heading for. After all you may, owing to faulty positioning, not be able to exit the car first. You may however be able to catch a party with their pants down by bursting forth at a great rate of knots as soon as the car door is unlocked.
Finally, and most importantly you MUST reach the foot of your selected climb first. Woe betide anyone trapped below a guide and his client or a conga line of a dozen Japanese Corporation Climbing Club members.
Alas all these shenanigans will not help you one iota if your target is the Grand Capucin. Constrained by the Téléphérique time table, the spire is too far away from the Midi’s top station to make the climb and return to Chamonix in one day. At least that is the way it was in ’71.
Finally, and most importantly you MUST reach the foot of your selected climb first. Woe betide anyone trapped below a guide and his client or a conga line of a dozen Japanese Corporation Climbing Club members.
Alas all these shenanigans will not help you one iota if your target is the Grand Capucin. Constrained by the Téléphérique time table, the spire is too far away from the Midi’s top station to make the climb and return to Chamonix in one day. At least that is the way it was in ’71.
Chapter 1
Keith had a plan. It was a good plan, one that I could get behind.
We had our sights set on the Bonatti-Ghigo route on the East Face of the Grand Capucin. A classic route on a captivating granite spire.
Now the thing about the Capucin is its accessibility. Getting there is simple, but tedious, requiring two or three hours of glacier travel to reach the foot of the east face.
You can camp out on the Géant Glacier at the foot of the spire. If you have the money you can make an early start from the refuge Les Cosmiques, or you can make a really early start from the Refugio Torin in Italy and trudge up the Glacier du Géant.
And therein lay the beauty of Keith’s plan. Why not make the required bivy work for us - a leisurely breakfast in Chamonix, then up to the top cable car station, followed by a wander down the back side of the Aiguille du Midi to the Glacier du Géant. Thence a 2-hour romp around the foot of the spire to the couloir that provides access to the climb proper. Use our best judgment as to how far up the couloir to climb before launching out to the right onto the mixed snow, ice and rock that girdles the foot of the spire. Sidle around, up and down to where the East Face kisses the North Face and look for the neon sign stating that you were now at topo point R0.
Assuming we had found R0, there remained only 3 or 4 pitches before setting up our encampment where Bonatti made his first bivy. Do you see the beauty of "The Plan"? No one could creep up on us undetected during the night and usurp our first-in-line status. We would be safe from rockfall caused by the inattention or the blasé attitude of other parties.
We had our sights set on the Bonatti-Ghigo route on the East Face of the Grand Capucin. A classic route on a captivating granite spire.
Now the thing about the Capucin is its accessibility. Getting there is simple, but tedious, requiring two or three hours of glacier travel to reach the foot of the east face.
You can camp out on the Géant Glacier at the foot of the spire. If you have the money you can make an early start from the refuge Les Cosmiques, or you can make a really early start from the Refugio Torin in Italy and trudge up the Glacier du Géant.
And therein lay the beauty of Keith’s plan. Why not make the required bivy work for us - a leisurely breakfast in Chamonix, then up to the top cable car station, followed by a wander down the back side of the Aiguille du Midi to the Glacier du Géant. Thence a 2-hour romp around the foot of the spire to the couloir that provides access to the climb proper. Use our best judgment as to how far up the couloir to climb before launching out to the right onto the mixed snow, ice and rock that girdles the foot of the spire. Sidle around, up and down to where the East Face kisses the North Face and look for the neon sign stating that you were now at topo point R0.
Assuming we had found R0, there remained only 3 or 4 pitches before setting up our encampment where Bonatti made his first bivy. Do you see the beauty of "The Plan"? No one could creep up on us undetected during the night and usurp our first-in-line status. We would be safe from rockfall caused by the inattention or the blasé attitude of other parties.
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With the exception of the neon signage - or the lack thereof , which I found particularly disappointing - all was progressing according to "The Plan." We had the Capucin all to ourselves. The weather promised to hold for a day or so and the route was largely free of snow. We were alternating leads and it fell to me to lead the final rope length for the day. Up I went until I was standing on a ledge about the size of a dinner plate; above me an overhanging corner. This matched the topo but where the hell was the bivy?
We knew it was small; Bonatti commented that they sat on the ledge with backs against the wall and legs dangling over the abyss. Now there is small and there is microscopic! I must have climbed past the bivy site, as this surely was not it. Keith arrived on the ledge with me, having found no alternative roost for the night. We have all done the multi-pitch leader dance - hanging off walls, transferring gear, and switching leaders in cramped situations. This stance was adequate for that, but the two of us spending the night here was another thing altogether. |
Keith Bell climbing into the mist and overhangs on the Grand Capucin. (Photo Credit: Howard Bevan)
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Chapter 2
Now this is where my memory is a bit fuzzy. How in the hell I drew the short straw I don’t know, but the next thing I do remember is me, two moves up the corner, standing in etriers (aid-climbing ladder) while below, Keith prepared for an uncomfortable night sitting on the “dinner plate," with legs dangling over the void. I banged in another peg to hang my gear off while Keith set to work brewing and cooking. I fought gravity to turn around facing out, loosen my boots and get my legs, still in etriers, into my pack. To complete the ensemble, I donned a duvet, gloves, and a balaclava lovingly knitted for me by my mother.
It appeared I was to join an illustrious group of 40’s and 50’s climbers who had spent a night or two in etriers on the Capucin. This was definitely not in Keith’s plan, or if it was, he did not tell me.
I fidgeted all night trying to take some weight off, in turns, my legs and my diaphragm. We did not have climbing harnesses back in the day. Instead antipodean climbers used a length of seat belt webbing wrapped around our waist a couple of times to which we attached our climbing ropes and gear with carabiners
It appeared I was to join an illustrious group of 40’s and 50’s climbers who had spent a night or two in etriers on the Capucin. This was definitely not in Keith’s plan, or if it was, he did not tell me.
I fidgeted all night trying to take some weight off, in turns, my legs and my diaphragm. We did not have climbing harnesses back in the day. Instead antipodean climbers used a length of seat belt webbing wrapped around our waist a couple of times to which we attached our climbing ropes and gear with carabiners
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As any student of alpine climbing will know, lightning rod and Grand Capucin are synonymous. So, of course, at about 11 o’clock we were treated to a lightning display like none I had ever seen. The whole of the eastern horizon appeared to lay at our feet, lit in a mesmerizing display of fire. For the next hour or two we gazed spellbound as the fireworks marched inexorably out of Italy towards the Capucin.
The lightning never reached us, but soon after midnight a second cause for concern manifested as 6 points of light moving slowly up the Valley Blanch, presumably having issued from the Refugio Torin, towards us. We had however anticipated this eventuality and it was covered by "The Plan." There was no way they were getting past us. I spent the rest of the night checking on their progress. They were about half way up the Glacier du Géant when two of the lights broke away from the group and headed south towards the Col de la Fourche. Two down four to go. |
Climber Howard Bevan following up a pitch on the Grand Capucin (Photo Credit: Keith Bell)
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Just after day break we lost sight of the party of four. They must be in the couloir. Damn.
We had been enjoying a relaxed breakfast but their disappearance spurred us into action. No time for a second brew! In a flurry of activity, I got out of the pack, stuffed my duvet, gloves and balaclava into it, did up my boots, arranged my hardware, and turned around to start moving up the corner.
Much to my consternation, I couldn't. I was stuck. Somehow without me being aware of it my knee had slid into the crack I was about to ascend. I could not move it up or down or out. However, with every machination it slipped further into that damn crack. I tried everything I could think of, all to no avail. I had visions of amputation being the only way off the mountain. This was truly a scaled-up version of the Chinese finger trap.
We had been enjoying a relaxed breakfast but their disappearance spurred us into action. No time for a second brew! In a flurry of activity, I got out of the pack, stuffed my duvet, gloves and balaclava into it, did up my boots, arranged my hardware, and turned around to start moving up the corner.
Much to my consternation, I couldn't. I was stuck. Somehow without me being aware of it my knee had slid into the crack I was about to ascend. I could not move it up or down or out. However, with every machination it slipped further into that damn crack. I tried everything I could think of, all to no avail. I had visions of amputation being the only way off the mountain. This was truly a scaled-up version of the Chinese finger trap.
Chapter 3
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I was about to ask Keith to come up and try yanking on my boot. To make room for him, I moved the free leg up a loop on its etrier. To my surprise the trapped leg literally fell out of the crack. No fanfare, no grunting and groaning, no pain - it simply slid out. In fact, I did not register the escape for a few seconds. I did not know whether to be happy or as mad as hell; it was as if the Gods of Snow and Ice, tiring of their sport, had moved on to locate some other hapless climber. But not without a parting shot.
I had made another two moves up the crack and thought I was sorted out when Keith yelled up at me. “Your swami belt is undone!” What else could go wrong?! I must have undone it during the night to allow me to breathe more easily. I had been so flustered in the morning dealing with the trapped leg I had not checked the swami belt before heading off. Perhaps the most embarrassing if not dangerous rookie error of my career. |
Howard Bevan leading the 40 metre wall, the crux of the climb. (Photo Credit: Keith Bell)
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Chapter 4
I am happy to report that the rest of the climb went sans drama. Well, almost. We reached the summit early in the afternoon and spent some quality time resting, taking in the superb view and basking in the afternoon sun. The team of four were out of sight well below, however our revery was eventually broken by the sound of voices floating up from the depths.
Time to move. We scrambled down to the abseil point which dropped us into an iced up gully festooned with boulders of various sizes, many of them teetering on the brink. A trip down said gully in their near future. We had descended about three quarters of the way down this death-defying gallery when a fusillade of missiles the size of small compact automobiles began raining down on us.
They were crashing, banging and careening off the gully walls at near terminal velocity. There was no way to judge with any certainty the trajectory of these projectiles. We shouted then swore back up the gully but to no avail. This was not a language problem. The words we were using were universally understood! The boulders kept on coming. We could not outrun the danger, all we could do was scramble out to the lip of the gully and take shelter under an overhang.
After about twenty minutes, perhaps more, the party from hell passed us jibber jabbering and laughing without a care in the world. We, on the other hand, had missed the last cable car for the day and were condemned to another cold and snowy night out.
They were crashing, banging and careening off the gully walls at near terminal velocity. There was no way to judge with any certainty the trajectory of these projectiles. We shouted then swore back up the gully but to no avail. This was not a language problem. The words we were using were universally understood! The boulders kept on coming. We could not outrun the danger, all we could do was scramble out to the lip of the gully and take shelter under an overhang.
After about twenty minutes, perhaps more, the party from hell passed us jibber jabbering and laughing without a care in the world. We, on the other hand, had missed the last cable car for the day and were condemned to another cold and snowy night out.
Epilogue
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This climb is primarily about route finding and bears witness to the incredible intestinal fortitude of the first ascent party. Gazing up from any part of the climb, you are confronted with yet another "impassable" overhang. Generally no path of avoidance is obvious until you are cheek-by-jowl with the roof. Some you pass on the left, some on the right, and one or two you attack head on.
Despite the hanging bivy and the gully fusillade this was perhaps the most enjoyable climb of my one season alpine career. The rock was good and the route consistently steep and challenging. We were fortunate to climb the route before it was festooned with pitons. Those in place on our ascent did not in the least detract from the experience. If you find yourself in Chamonix wondering what to climb next, give a thought to this great route. Yes, there are harder, more technical climbs on the pinnacle, but grab ten pegs, a dozen jams and your favorite balaclava - step back 70 years and spend a day in Bonatti’s hobnails. |
Author Howard Bevan with his etriers hanging from his swami belt (Grand Capucin, Chamonix; Photo Credit: Keith Bell)
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