Struck by lightning on the Aiguille du Chardonnet - 12546ft (3824m) | ||||||||||||
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Introduction | ||||||||||||
-To the hut and down | ||||||||||||
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For our safety we should have joined the Dutch on their rope. However the Tour glacier seemed such a small threat after what we'd just been through that neither JC nor I could be bothered. Unencumbered by the rope we left the Dutch behind. As we wearily crossed the glacier the light was fading. When we finally reached our gear in the rocks it was nearly dark. We quickly packed and headed for the nearby hut. When we walked into the busy dining room I felt faces turn to stare at us. The Dutch must have reached the hut while we packed and word had got round of our lightning strike. Shortly after we sat bowls of hot soup were placed in our hands, I guess by the hut warden. A group of young English lads nearby fired questions at us. They were clearly excited that we'd had a real adventure and it seemed that they were almost envious of our experience. They told us that people in the hut had been aware that there were climbers on the Chardonnet and had been worried about us. I quite enjoyed the minor celebrity for a few minutes but after a bit the constant questioning became wearing. Feeling dazed and completely knackered I wanted to be left alone with my soup. I longed to collapse in the hut and sleep, but we'd left word with our friend Ian Robertson (waiting in the valley) that if we weren't down by the end of our second day then we might be in trouble. I hated the thought that our prolonged absence might spawn an unnecessary rescue operation and so I wanted to go down. JC, as ever without complaint, agreed to continue down to the valley. It was a further descent of over 4000 ft to Le Tour in the valley. Now loaded with all our kit and in complete darkness, it was a long and cheerless downward grind. My headtorch failed about half way down which slowed things further. When we reached the valley we'd been on the go for nearly 24 hours and I was tottering about with tiredness. It was a quick drive back to our Chamonix campsite. We got a beer out of the campsite's vending machine and headed for our tent. As thunderstorms rumbled powerfully all over the nearby mountains the drink provided a tiny bit of ceremony at the end of a truly epic day out. A moment or two after the bottle was emptied I was asleep. | ||||||||||||
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