Ice time

My sources had told me that ice conditions in Aosta were good, so Nick and Adam arrived from the UK with great expectations for the following 10 days, but first stop was Longoni's opposite Bergamo airport for those last minute essentials such as batteries, lengths of tat and warm clothes.

Despite these small oversights we were in general well kitted out. We had planned to camp, which seemed a novel but particularly stupid idea to every campsite I had contacted. In fact they had blatantly refused to let us stay, so not wanting to go against local knowledge we had relented and reserved a caravan at Les Salasses in Lillaz, and if things went well we could transfer to tents after. Of course it never happened.

Lillaz at the head of the Valle di Cogne is a beautiful, peaceful and isolated place. It contains some of the best ice climbing to be found in Italy, except not this week. The weather had apparently been quite warm, fluctuating between 0 and +5.

But we were here to climb, and used to thin Scottish conditions, so optimistically leaving the campground at a sociable hour passing under the ever-watchful eye of Giuseppe, our mentor and excellent host for the week, he gave us a look that clearly said both; where do you think you are going at this hour and do you know how warm it is. He looked like he knew what he was talking about, so treading now with a bit more caution we approached the valley. Today was only really meant to be a reconnaissance day to check out conditions and test fitness. Early on signs were not good, for both categories. The perfectly formed cascades of ice that we had in our guidebook were nowhere to be seen, and throughout the day small avalanches and rockslides came crashing down the south facing side of the valley. We had seen enough to persuade us that climbing could not be an option. But we had had an enjoyable trek along the valley, and tried snowshoes for the first time to which we were all now fully converted.

That evening in Cogne at the Bar Licone we quizzed other climbers what they had been doing, it appeared there was not much ice in the whole valley. So much for my sources! But we were not finished yet, and the following day after working the guidebook a bit, we decided to try Lillaz Gulley, it was close to our caravan, well protected from avalanche and very Scottish in nature. In fact it wasn't so close and 2 hours later after fighting through trees and deep snow we arrived at its foot.

The ice was melting, but not flowing so we decided to give it a shot. The first pitch was only 25 meters but took 45 minutes to climb. The others followed more quickly but in equally poor style. We sat under the small overhang eating our lunch, whilst small volleys of rocks occasionally tumbled by. It was obvious we were not going to exit in the light, so we took the easy decision to retreat gracefully practicing all manner of snow slope descending techniques on the way.

Our ice climbing holiday was over, so we headed into Courmayeur for Christmas. We were very fortunate to find a cheap room right in the center of the village as guests of Giuditta Rossi, and we were happy to be spending the day skiing with fantastic views of the Peuterey Ridge. The next few days were spent alternating between Courmayeur and La Thuile to find the best conditions. The weather had now taken a turn for the worst and the combination of cloud, powder and inexperience led to some strange and disorientating floating experiences.

The final day was filled with a relaxing cross country ski along Val Ferret, a thoroughly agreeable activity, interrupted at mid point for a toasted sandwich and a glass of vin chaud. Once of the main piste and under the shadow of the Walker Spur and Grande Jorasse the size of the surrounding mountains really becomes apparent, and our short trip was an intimidating if wondrous experience.