A route map for this trip is available, but is about 215 k.
This trip was undertaken in July this Year (1996). It was a two-day trip, delayed because of bad weather earlier in the week. We started from the car park / bar at Pre de Madame Carle, at the end of the Ailefroide valley. You get a tantalising view of the Glacier Blanc from here, but it is soon lost as you start to climb towards it. It is a strange thought that only a hundred years (or so) ago, the Glaciers Noir and Blanc met at the site of this car park, ending some 400m lower than they do now. They are still receding, apparently. There is a very interesting (and free) exhibition in the tourist centre on the Col de Laurentet.
There is a fairly steady, zig-zagging climb up to the present day foot of the Glacier Blanc, and, slightly higher, the Refuge du Glacier Blanc.
To get an idea of scale, see if you can spot the two people standing in front of the ice cave under the nose of the glacier, to the right of the main melt water stream ! (They are there)
Climb a little higher, and you get a fine view of Pelvoux with a crazy looking path careering off the end of the Glacier des Violettes and down the steep, rocky mountain side.
From here, you leave the day-trippers behind, and skirt around the huge icefall you can see at the top of the picture to arrive at the relatively level upper valley. This gives the first clear view of the ridge closing off the valley, crowned by the Barre des Ecrins
Depending on the snow conditions, you may be able to stay clear of the glacier all the way to the Refuge des Ecrins. We chose to rope up, and walk along the glacier. Since the bad weather that had delayed us had brought fairly heavy snow, the glacier looked very benign (after the massive icefall above the nose). Still, we thought it wise to rope up. On out decent, the snow had melted, somewhat, revealing many grey-ish depressions -indicating crevasses below) crossing our earlier route.
After supper in the hut, (bring your own water, it's twice the price of beer to buy) we retired to our allotted bunks. It is difficult to describe the misery of a broken nights sleep in a mountain hut, except to imagine having to breath warm, viscous pea soup while listening to muffled sniggers from a gang of schoolboys (nationality immaterial) after staying awake for two or three weeks. Come the wake-up call at 3am, the fittest, and most experienced member of our party is suffering the effects of altitude, combined with no sleep, and decides he isn't fit to go on. We give him as much surplus gear as possible to carry down, and sit drinking black coffee out of tin bowls waiting for first light. Most of the people in the hut have already left. The rest of us set out just as dawn was breaking, walking to the top of the valley before beginning the final ascent of the wall at the end of the valley. The snow cover plays havoc with the sense of perspective; we knew from the map how far it was to the end of the valley, but it's difficult to ignore your own eyes telling you that it's only a few hundred yards.
We reach the foot of the slope up to the Barre des Ecrins and the Dome de Neige, and the only tracks in the snow are those made by the parties ahead of us that morning. There are absolutely no tracks on the upper slopes. The route up depends on the snow cover, and the state of the glacier. It is generally a straightforward slog, but stopping now and again, you notice narrow gaps in the snow leading to darkness. Make no mistake, you are on glacier. We zig and zag and pick a route out. Ahead of us, each party seems to be blazing a different trail. We cut off corners and start one of out own. The sun is up, it's about 9:00am. The world is a good place to be. Onwards and upwards, you are already above all the peaks around you, pausing, it dawns on you that most of them are comfortably over 10,000 feet, and you suddenly realise what you are doing. Not much longer, and you are nearing the top, and waiting to take your turn to cross the snow bridge over the barely perceptible rimaye and stand on the summit. Once there, the view, and sense of altitude is amazing. (4013 m / 13,050 ft).
The only thing that's higher than you are the knife edge ridge of the Barre des Ecrins and Mont Blanc in the distance.
Strangely, I didn't feel any sense of elation; there was a biting wind right at the summit, and I just felt vulnerable, and the need to get off this mountain. It still puzzles me why this should be. Descending is straightforward. We count ourselves lucky that we didn't delay the start any longer, as it would be impossible to climb up the loose powder we are descending. We are the second last party back into the valley, and its only just midday. The sun reflecting off the slopes either side of the glacier make it very hot, but not unpleasantly so. A large crevasse has opened up on the glacier at the top end of the valley. It is on the outside of a bend, and according to the exhibition, the glacier moves at a meter a day there. We amble down, peering into crevasses, and remarking on the amount of detritus appearing on the glacier now that the recent snows are starting to melt.
The feeling of elation comes that evening as I gaze briefly at the neck of a freshly opened cold beer before quenching the glacier's thirst.
Copyright Andy Gray, 1996 / Revised 6th October 1999 /
andy@misterg.fsnet.co.uk