REMINISCENCES
Part III:   The Dauphine, 1910

by E. E. Roberts

As early as 10th July Davidson and I arrived in Grenoble with two complete novices, the brilliant rock climber Robert­son Lamb and an undergraduate, Crawford, who was one day to share in two Everest Expeditions. The weather had been shocking and replies to questions about it were of the nature, “We never had weather like this before”. We were amazingly successful, three weeks to the day between first and last of ten peaks, but were severely criticised at the Alpine Club for taking such a party.

The flower display in the Dauphine is incredibly glorious. There are many Alpine regions where it is magnificent, but they all pale beside the Dauphine. The snowfall had been prodigious and came low but the weather was quite good enough. Our H.Q. was La Grave, Hotel Juge, pension 7 francs; think of it, under 6 shillings a day!

The Pic du Combeynot must normally be easy rock, but we had four hours of mostly soft snow and much opportunity of timing the rate on decent stuff as thirty-five steps per minute. It is often ascended from Lautaret Col, but not often crossed as we did. Not easy but excellent training. Our next was the Pic d’Arsine. The snow was awful and on anything bigger we would have failed. From the foot of a great snow slope, one hour from the Chalet de l’Alpe, we were four hours on a second fine hot day. Near the top it was very steep and avalanchy, decidedly thrilling. From a fairly solid point the leader went out on the level, 80 ft. to the summit rocks, thrusting his arms deep into the very soft snow. Coming down took a lot of thought, the snow was softer and the solution was to lower Lamb on all our rope from the lowest rock with instructions to kick hard right and left. This was so successful that I went down in a great trench to where the slope was safe. The finish was delightful. Lamb knew nothing about glissading but feared nothing and assumed the thing was absolutely safe. He just flung himself on the snow so promptly that I could not make out what had become of him until I saw there were three men below waiting. Davidson reported that Lamb had travelled head down at times.

The off days with the flowers were simply glorious and the peaks more glorious still. Two days later we were lucky to get over the Pic de Neige Cordier to Ailefroide, meeting our first climbers and seeing the first old steps. Two more and we were at the Pelvoase Hut and helped by a very cold night we were able to do the three little summits. A perfect descent half way and then terrible conditions but all down hill, and we were back in eight hours, the first ascent of the season. We had neglected to inspect the food ordered and rations were very short. However weather went stormy and we were glad enough to force our way over a pass to La Berarde, starving.

I have no complaints as to sufficient food in Dauphine, but the enormous amount of meat the French ate was beyond us and sweets were totally inadequate. I seldom eat nuts but I regard the prospect of so doing as not disagreeable, for every dinner I finished by hogging nuts. In a plain little hut like the Chalet de FAlpe the agreement bound the gardien to supply two meats and not knowing this we were once only reduced to cutting four little bits off a magnificent joint of mutton.

No one had done either the Meije or the Rateau that season, but we felt sure the Rateau at least must be possible, so two days later we went up in 4 hours to the Meije Hut and after an hour’s trip above decided the Meije would go. Leaving Lamb at the hut to bring up some wood, Davidson, Crawford and I did the Rateau between 4 a.m. and 9.30 a.m., a pleasant little summit ridge, with a steep snow slope, soft and just right for lying glissades, but terrible across to the hut. Crawford actually went to La Berarde and got back by 6.30 with a porter, food and wood..

July 25th was a red letter day in one’s life. Crawford was pushed off with the porter over the Col Clot des Cavales leav­ing the message, “You will leave your skins on the Meije”. By lantern at first of course over ground explored, the Promon-toire was reached over good rocks in 2\ hours, only incident a nasty knock from a stone on my elbow. The route was not easy to follow, Davidson led grandly and out on to the Great Wall and successfully turned right at the proper time and up on to the Glacier Carre. It had been a splendid climb and the Pic de Glacier Carre was a grand sight. I cut up the Glacier at a furious rate in fine form, 25 minutes, and brought us to book time.

Davidson led up the final peak, 10.15, and as he saw the magnificent row of 4 gendarmes to the Pic Central exclaimed, “Why, it’s miles and miles”. The descent to the Zgismondy Gap was very slow, ice and snow on the rocks, but luckily cutting off very clean. Conscious we must secure our retreat Davidson came down without abseiling, Gap 12.30.

Up the famous climb he went, avoiding the use of the rope which had at least been there since last summer. “You won’t much like this”, when I got to him but the rest was straight­forward. Outstanding as Lamb was, he had no pride or false shame; he simply grabbed the fixed rope and came up amid violent protests. It was cold and the snow holding good we were able to tread round the 3rd and 4th gendarmes, reaching the Pic Central just 12 hours after leaving the hut We saw nothing, but the way home clear enough; between us and the glacier was a good descent to a col and then the famous ice slope which had got more than one English party into trouble and a night out. Davidson had refused to let me relieve him latterly, but at the col I set to spend the rest of the day chopping. It would not be ice but very hard neve and for the first hour I knew that only a turn of luck would get us off in good time. It came—I felt a softer few inches and by and by there was enough to hold sufficient toe for, Lamb and me to kick like lunatics and go down stable-ladder fashion, back­wards.

We were on the steep narrow glacier and soon after five stood together for a minute to realise we had got away with it, and then shot away glissading to the Rocher de l’Aigle in thin cloud. Here a hut was being built and a deep track saved us all anxiety over the best way and the crevasses. La Grave 7.20 p.m., the first ascent of 1910. Much joy. Two days’ loaf was our reward. On the second we watched the only other two parties to do the Meije that year follow our footsteps. One got in but the other did not. My diary does not say if they were benighted by the Rocher de l’Aigle, but it was serious.

We had started at 4 a.m. for the rocks on the Aiguille d’Arve, and tramped through meadows of marvellous flowers and on for 7 hours to the Col Lombard. It was a most interesting climb with a really bad bit, the Mauvais Pas. Davidson had been trying to make good the inadequacy of sweets and was unhappy all day. This meant that, backed by Lamb, I considered it entirely on my own and got up. May we be for­given for the lies we told about the security of our position!

The night was spent at a real primitive Alpine chalet, making cheese, and we ascended a huge snow slope to the col between the North and Central Aguilles, then up to the North. Slowly returning down the gully from the col to the snow we all had a perfect view of a gigantic slab quietly lean over from the base of the cliff on our left flat on to our tracks and sweep them away for 1,000 feet. Below the three great crags the slopes are shale and I expect our easy snow traverse to the Col Lombard under the Aiguilles is normally not at all nice.

We should have done well to stop and do the Central Aiguille as our weather luck was out. We crossed the Breche de la Meije from La Grave and went on to the Ecrins Hut, but in 36 hours of thunderstorms we parted. Crawford and I returned by his pass and bagged the little Pic des Cavales.

Neither of us had finished, for I trained to Visp and walked up to Sas Fee to join my people. With Greenwod (Y.R.C.) and Bishop the bag was seven peaks, my brother Walter on two of them. He was climbing with the Dent party and they actually found an unclimbed summit, next but one north of the Ulrichshorn. Also they put him in the Alpine Club.