Breche Victor Chaud - Couloir Pèlas Verney

The question was raised by Ale, in response he received only a amused nod, something similar to what I’d received earlier this morning while trying to keep up with them, far fitter than myself, as we ascended through the snowless forest waiting for dawn that never seemed to arrive.

I’d left my tent at Ailefroide and ascended through this valley in the Ecrins National Park, headtorch on, mild temperatures, heavy ski boots, out of breath, skis strapped to my rucksack.

I caught up with the others shortly after dawn, only when they stopped to put on their crampons. we were at the base of the couloir and it was the first time, today, that we set foot on snow. But if I don’t use skis during the ascent, is it still ski mountaineering? Ale, perplexed, took off the dry skins from his skis. I hadn’t put mine on: at times being lazy pays and, when it does, I really like it.

We’d come a long way to get to the Ecrins massif, and walked a lot this morning, but the environment is determined to make amends. Last night’s rain had offered some respite and given us enough time to grab a bite to eat around the campfire and had stopped before our alarm clocks went off.

Mount Pelvoux showed us its tormented south face, comprised of rock rock and hanging snowfields. The line we’re ascending - Couloir Pèlas Verney - is straight, clean, wedged into the rocks and as long as we’d gleamed from the photos and topos that had convinced us to give it a go.

One thousand one hundred meters from the base to the top, a good eight hundred meters in the gully. It widened, got narrower, then went slightly right after the first third. The abundant snow made the ascent enjoyable - especially for me as I stepped in the others’ footsteps - and perfectly skiable. The snow cover had already undergone several changes and seemed to be well settled.

The last 50 meters became much narrower and steeper, I’d say just over 50°, as stones and rocks emerged. The two who broke trail in front of me reached the breche, I followed them, walking in the footsteps, and joined them on the summit a few minutes later. We shook hands, took the ritual photos, I smoked a blue Diana cigarette and while we ate some biscuits the sun even came out and spent a few minutes with us.

After five hours of carrying them on our shoulders we finally reversed roles: we took them off our backs and stepped into our bindings. So now - I asked - the idea was to do some abseils with skis on? No worries, I’ve seen it done in the movies is the response I got. One rappel off pegs and two further rappels led us to where the gully was wide enough to ski down. Better still, to where it was just about as wide as our skis. After a bit of side stepping it then widen out and the angle eased off. From here Pèlas Verney allowed itself to be skied on good snow that only slid a bit further down, below the last curves. At times it steepened and narrowed down a bit, but even those sections were negotiated without much ado.

The gully had already received a lot of sun and the snow tended to give way as we passed; we skied carefully, down the natural line, slowly, trying not to overload the slope. Where the gully met the stream the snow ended. We freshened up, strapped skis to our rucksacks and begun walking back through the forest.

Back at the campsite the sun has finished drying our tents that we lay out in the grass. We stretched out, ate something quickly, put on some shorts and talked a bit about the mountains. A French couple arrived wearing with climbing shoes strapped to their harnesses and ropes slung over their shoulder: where on earth had they been climbing this early on in the season? This is what transpired from our glances, but in reality all we said was Cian, Bon jour. What a great place, these Ecrins.

by Mattia Salvi

MATTIA SALVI
10/12/2014 - The first ski mountaineering trip of the season