On the 4th August 2009 at 8:15am local time (9:15am GMT), I stood on the summit of Mont Blanc (4810m, the highest peak in Western Europe), after over 7hrs of ascent in “serious” conditions. It was one tough day but the feeling getting to the top was incredible and with it almost a year to the day that my Granddad passed away, it was really special to be there for The Stroke Association.

I’ll be back with a full report of the trip, complete with details of all the joy/hardship encountered.

Finally, a big thank you to all who wished me well, the donations, the pledges and everyone who played a part in getting me up there. It all helped massively and I can’t begin to explain how much the support meant to me.

Thanks,
Ian

I’d arrived in Marrakech on the 7th ahead of the group, who arrived in the early hours of Sunday the 8th. After a leisurely morning on Sunday and meeting up with our main guide Yahir, we were in a mini-bus departing the city for the small mountain town and drop off point of Imlil (1740m). Whilst our bags were taken out of the mini-bus and loaded into a clapped out old Mercedes the 8 members of the group carried on getting to know each other over a plentiful supply of hot sugary mint tea.

As the Merc trundled off along a dirt road (the long non-scenic route), we walked up and out through Imlil. After a short walk up a slope outside of Imlil we came up onto the dirt track (where we were soon overtaken by the Merc) to be presented with our first proper view of Mount Toubkal. After a brief pause to look up at the imposing spectacle of Toubkal, we were soon at our first stop in the mountains, a gite in Aroumd (1960m). The evening was fun, despite the communal area soon being filled by eye watering smoke, and sleep was surprisingly easy in our cosy room for the 4 single men on the trip.

A mouse running out from under one of the beds caught me and another member of the group by surprise as we packed kit early on the 9th, unbelievable that 5 could’ve spent the night in such a small room!

After a quick introduction to our second guide, Lachan, we were soon crossing small rivers, before a steady climb up toward a small settlement formed around a shrine under a large rock. With the snow starting properly soon after, main packs were lifted off the mules and porters took over. The group checked equipment was all okay whilst having a mint tea and then set off up into the snow.

It was soon clear just how deep the snow fall had been up on the route, some of the group disappearing to their waist as they stepped forward. Roughly on time after around 5hrs walking we were almost at our base for the summit attempt, the Neltner Refuge run by Club Alpin Francais. Feeling good and enjoying the snow I broke trail for the last 100m to the side of the main path and tried to run a little, leaving me completely breathless as I walked into the boot area of the refuge (which I was surprised to see taken up mostly by ski boots).

A short rest with a cup of tea and we were back outside to check equipment over and practice self arrest (although the fresh snow made sliding tricky). With 2 days to attempt the summit we were made aware with good weather forecast that an early start was planned for a summit bid the next day.

So at 6am on the 10th my alarm went off, waking me from the light sleep I’d drifted into having spent the night getting increasingly more annoyed by the French world champion snorer to my right. With kit already packed and adrenaline flowing at the thought of the day ahead, I was soon stood outside, ready at 7am to hear from the guides that infact the weather was bad and so we’d be doing a walk to a nearby pass at 3700m instead. Despite the news, the promise of good weather for the following day and a walk higher to acclimatise left me even more optimistic of reaching the summit, so I wasn’t too downbeat.

The seriousness of the conditions grew steadily more apparent with more snow falling. Eventually with snow displacing in large chunks around us on a steep section (at about 3500m) the risk of avalanches grew too great and so the group turned back to the refuge. Back down at the refuge, I spent the majority of the day outside building snow shelters for practice and to help acclimatise by exercising with less oxygen.

After a much better night’s sleep (aided by exercise… and ear plugs) we were up again and outside ready just after 7am on the 11th. But once again the guides were unhappy with the conditions: more snow had fallen, the mountain was shrouded by thick clouds and a group trying for the summit the previous day had turned back quickly. But as this was our last proper day to climb we set off hoping for a change of weather and to check the slopes for the likelihood of avalanches.

About 200m from the refuge, one of the group complained about a bad stomach… and then threw up to the side of trail. Luckily he felt a lot better for having been sick and so carried on. It made me more aware of the stomach pains that had developed since arriving in Morocco that were getting steadily worse.

The first slope up into the cwm was quite steep in sections (at about 50/55 degrees), at times the group were traversing with big gaps between members to reduce the risk of triggering an avalanche. We were soon at the top of the slope, able to rest, go to the toilet and check up on how everyone was doing.

After a long but much more steady climb the guides became increasingly concerned by the poor visibility, which would make going up onto the summit ridge (that was heavily corniced) a real problem. After a lengthy chat and with the discussion leaning towards turning back, our first stroke of luck occured with the clouds thinning to give a view of the walls of the cwm. The guides shared our optimism once more and we were able to carry on up toward the ridge.

But then perhaps only 15 minutes later, the clouds came in and visibility dropped, again we stopped and this time the guides actually called it off saying it was too dangerous to break a trail in such poor conditions. Then we were blessed with our second stroke of luck, a team of Spanish walkers came up behind us on the trail and decided to carry going with a few pointers from our guide. With them ahead, breaking trail and taking the risks, the guides relented and we carried on.

A while after we traversing the side of the summit ridge, and almost as if by fate as we came up onto the ridge proper the clouds dropped and broke around us, giving the group views of mountains for miles around. An absolutely spectacular sight. Keeping to the left of the ridge and being around for a shouting contest on a slightly tricky section with the Spanish trying to walk down a slope over us (with lots of deep snow they could’ve displaced over us and the huge drop behind us!) we finally made it to the summit.

Making it to the summit of Mount Toubkal was incredibly special; the combination of coming so close to the weather forcing it off, deep snow making it physically quite hard, and the absolutely amazing views from the top (albeit short lived) mean I’ll never forget the climb.

Next… the Belvoir Half Marathon on the 12th April and finalising plans for Mont Blanc.

Finally, thanks to Exodus for the trip and all of those in the team who made the trip both possible and really memorable!

You can see photos from the trip by going to my Flickr Morocco collection. And as ever, if you’re able to donate any amount then I’d be incredibly grateful.

I was pretty worried before going that all the snow we’d had was actually going to stop the course going ahead or worse, prevent me from getting to Snowdonia. Luckily I made the trip fine on Thursday night after a particularly hectic week at work and found on arrival that the snowfall meant perfect conditions up on the mountains.

After going through theory on what causes avalanches and what to do if I was ever caught in one (swim like crazy to the side being the answer) we set off the following morning to the Ogwyn valley and walked up to around 700m, to practice in the shadow of Y Garn. Between cups of coffee and eating bits from our packed lunch we covered how to self arrest a slide with an ice axe, build a snow shelter (mine was too wide and so putting a roof on was impossible, but it was comfortable!), cutting steps on steep snow with the ice axe and a bit of stepping up steep ice which was tricky in high winds and with the ice being really hard.

Tired from the effort we returned to a feast of various curry dishes and a well earned drink. Discussion moved onto what to try the following day, when pushed to make a decision I ventured we should go with the option our guide thought would be “the most fun”…

So Saturday morning we set off to Bethesda where we started off on a 15km circuit that included the summit of Yr Elan (962m) via a “fun” (well I enjoyed it!) knife edge ridge with occasional gust of wind and plenty of snow cover. On top of the mountain, in what was turning into a blizzard, I popped my Stroke Association running vest on top of my jacket and had photo taken, which you can check out to the right. After a brief rest on top and with visibility not allowing us to see far enough to work out the route down, I was helped to properly use a compass to get us off the mountain. Luckily we spotted my compass was shown North as South and vice verse and so we didn’t walk over any cliff faces… need to get a new compass!

For Sunday, with the weather looking like it was turning and members of the group needing to get back/tired from the past couple of days, we decided on a less technical/shorter day around a horseshoe behind the farmhouse that included Elidir Fawr (again via a ridge, not quite so exposed as before though). Coming down from the walk the subject of what to do with my additional day came up and ice climbing was decided as a good/fun option. So with the majority of the group having left it was time to pick up a couple of climbing basics. So after an introduction to an alpine climbing harness, a belay plate and how to tie rope onto the harness I was attached to a stairwell in the extension practicing what I’d learnt.

The next morning I was slightly anxious but excited and keen to get to the route chosen for the climb. Again we went to the Ogwyn Valley and this time made our way to the Devil’s Kitchen and up a steep slope to a frozen river coming over the top of the mountain, which we’d be climbing. Without going into detail what followed was an amazing couple of hours spent kicking the front crampon points into the ice, steadying myself with two shorter more aggressively shaped axes and moving slowly up the steeper sections. Those with a fear of heights may well have struggled with the potential fall behind but roped up and with plenty of contact with the ice, all I could think of was how much fun climbing was and to occasionally stop for a breather to admire the amazing views from the route. So yeah, I like ice climbing!

And after an attempt to watch how to perform a crevasse rescue (very clever but ultimately too complicated for someone who does a knot/double knot and not much more) I headed back to pack and grab a quick hot drink before the journey back.

So a big thank you to Ian and Mandy at HighTrek who ran the weekend winter walking course, who I learnt lots from and looked after me really well! Sure it’ll all come in handy at some point and leaving Wales I’m able to start to get really excited at the prospect of Mount Toubkal and Mont Blanc.