Page 32 - 1994 AMA Summer

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Vinn MOI \TAINKI R
Exercise Asterix III
An Adventure Training Exercise in the French Alps Ma/ GFTanner
* j I f -Ite, fromage, et pain" the menu read, just the thing for a X hungry climber, I thought. Bernard Lane. Peter Hall and myself were sitting in the glorified wooden crate that goes by the name of being the Conscrit Refuge hut on the Tré la Tête Glacier
in the Mont Blanc massif. It
was July 1993 and the three
of us were part of a School
of Electronic Engineering
adventure training exercise
to the French Alps. We had
left our tents in the early
hours of the morning and
trekked up the Glacier to the
hut for a look at the route up
to the Aiguille de Berangere.
It was now 1000 hrs and I
w'as hungry. Pate, cheese
and bread would make a
quick cold snack that would­
n’t delay our return too
much and Bernard and Peter
raised no objections, so I
ordered the dish from
Madame, the hut guardians' wife. The only other occupants in the cramped interior were a young girl turning over the blankets on the bunks that filled every' comer, a visiting local who was apparently carrying out the annual fire inspection and a large shaggy dog.
Clouds began to form over the peaks around us. the temperature started to fall in the hut and the fire inspector began to dismantle a large red extinguisher on the table next to us. The extinguisher was well covered with the sort of labels that scream out 'danger' ‘high pressure’, but this did not deter him from attacking it vig­ orously with an outsize adjustable spanner. Nervousness was written on our faces as we weighed up our chances of surviving the likely explosion: and where was my meal? My companions were getting impatient and the dog was eyeing my leg as if it too fancied a snack. In my finest broken French I expressed my con­ cern to Madame that I had now waited half an hour for a simple cold plate of pate and cheese. “You want it now?” she asked with an incredulous raised eyebrow, then shrugged and went off to fetch it and with a flourish placed a huge platter of lukewarm pasta, lightly covered in cheese sauce, in front of me. Stunned silence was followed by the painful realisation that pâte is french for pasta paté is the savoury' paste; the grammatical difference being merely an ‘a’ circumflex, the reality being an amorphous mass of gently congealing goo!! Bernard and Peter gave me that look that said ’You ordered it, you eat it - and you’ve got five m inutes’. The exuberant fire inspector was now at the ‘lets bash
the detonator’ stage, and Madame stood grimly between me and the door to ensure monsieur enjoyed his meal. Five very painful minutes later we were out in the snow, speechless with pasta stuffed in every facial orifice and all feelings of hunger killed
SSgt Peter Briely and Major Graham Tanner. Tré la Tête Glacier July 1993
stone dead for the next few days. Thanks pals’ I gasped ‘Lets go hom e!’
The exercise was aimed at giving some promising young (and a few' old) REME climbers a push towards gaining more advanced mountaineering qualifications and in stim­ ulating their interest in alpine routes. There were seven of us, myself as leader, Bernard as the mountain expert. Capt Peter Hall on loan from
BAOR to provide the
exercise with perfect and SSgts’ Bob Robinson.
weather,
Darren Vincent and Peter Brierly.The plan was to operate from a campsite in the Les Contamines de Mont Joie Valley and attempt theAiguille de Berangere, Mont Tondu and the Dome de Miage, then move round to Chamonix and have a go at Mont Blanc via the Bossons Glacier and the Grand Mulets hut. The weather had other plans and greeted us with fresh snow down to 1,700m and avalanche conditions on most of the slopes. The Dome de Miage was definitely off limits that week but on a cou­ ple of good days we did manage to reach the top of the Aiguille de Berangere (3425m) and Mont Tondu (3196m). The Aiguille was a straight plod up an ever steepening snow slope, approached from the Conscrit hut. Unfortunately, the cloud prevented any good views so we made a fast descent back down to the hut. arriving in time to meet the sun chasing away the clouds and blis­ tering all human life on the glacier. The chic locals decorating the rocks around the hut were mightily impressed by Stephen, who sported his best evening dress shirt under his Berghaus jacket, complete with cufflinks, and completed his ensemble by wearing bright yellow lipsalve!
Capt StephenMcIntosh
Mont Tondu via the North West ridge proved a classic route, with a difficult approach across the Tre La Tete seracs, followed by three steep snow fields separated by rock bands, and a final
pleasant airy traverse’ (the guide book’s words, not mine) to the second summit. The serac field terminated in a bergschrund gap that yawned like an icy miniature Grand Canyon.