More Rockfall in the Alps: this time on The Arête des Cosmiques!

So far this summer, there have been serious rockfall incidents on many of the iconic and/or well-traveled routes around the Mont Blanc Massif.

In August, a fairly significant rockfall event on the Gouter Route's Grand Couloir led to its temporary closure. Boulders rolled down the couloir steadily. Some even made it over the approach ridge, and nearly rolled into the camp ground by the Tete Rousse hut. Signs were posted - warning people of the danger. Many guide agencies cancelled trips, chose to run summits on the Trois Sommet route on Mont Blanc, or chose other mountains all together. I worked a trip for Mont Blanc guides that ended up climbing the Grand Paradiso in Italy, rather than face the risks on Mont Blanc during the late August heat wave.

Another rockfall incident in August - this time to the left of the Gervasutti Buttress on the Mont Blanc du Tacul - deposited a house-sized block of granite on the glacier of the Vallee Blanche. At similar time, a cabin-sized chunck fell off the Eperon de Cosmiques on the Aiguille du Midi south face.

On September 11th, two large rock fall events took place on the Petit Dru - on or near the famed Bonatti Pillar rock fall of 1997 and 2003.

Yesterday I climbed Mont Blanc via the Trois Sommet route. On our return journey up the snow arete into the Aiguille du Midi cable car station, My guest Doug and I witnessed several washing machine sized boulders rolling down the couloir to the right of the Eperon de Cosmiques. The rock fall originated very close to the bottom of the 20 meter rappel midway up the Arête des Cosmiques. I don't know if it was human-triggered or natural. The above-average temperatures we've had lately could permit either option. The boulders rolled out across the approach path to the Cosmiques hut - some making it to within 50 meters of the tents often found in that area. The rocks could have killed anyone on the path (including us - we had been in that spot 15 minutes previosly...).

 The Arete des Cosmiques from the observation platform on the Aiguille du Midi. The red highlighting shows where the rockfall supposedly originated.

Be careful out there!

Rockfall on Les Drus

Today I was guiding a client on the Petit Aiguille Verte when a loud rumbling noise caused us to look over at les Drus. The area below the famous 1997 and 2005 Bonatti Pillar collapses was kicking out an enormous cloud of dust, rock, and flying boulders. It seemed like several hundred tons (at least) of rock coming down.

moments after the first rock fall at 10:15am.

At about 10:20 a.m. there was a significant rockfall event on the north face le Petit Dru (3733m). The Petit Dru is the right of les Drus, and is the same granite spire which shed the famous Bonatti Pillar back in the spectacular rockfall event of 1997. The Dru has seen several subsequent rock-fall events - the largest taking place during the very hot summer of 2003, then again in 2005. The unstable zone near the once-upon-a-time Bonatti Pillar has been the source for each event.

Les Drus and the Aiguille Vert, as seen from La Praz, this afternoon. Fresh grey dust on the north face marks the site of today's rock fall.

After some time the dust cloud dispersed. It blew up-valley in the afternoon breeze, and spread a veil of hazyness to over 3000m. We could smell and taste the dust on our descent from the Petit Aiguille Verte. At 1:15pm, a second - slightly smaller - rock-fall event took place in the same area.

I took my paraglider back up the Grands Montets lift hoping to launch before the Foehn winds and strong valley breeze over-developed. I wanted to get some close-up shots of the fresh rock fall. I was too late. The winds were too strong, and it wasn't safe for me to launch. 

The permfrost elevation is increasing in the alps as a result of ever-increasing regional (and global) temperatures. This growth in the volume of terrain exposed to annual melt-freeze cycles will give rise to more frequent rock-fall events in the near future.  I keep kidding with friends about when the Aiguille du Midi will topple over. Hopefully, it's only kidding!

A closer view of the rock fall. The Montenvers train station can be seen at far right on the slope overlooking the Mer de Glace.  An hour after the rock fall, the dust spreads out...

The Rockfall incident

Getting chased by boulders -  a la Indian Jones in the cave at the start of Raiders of the Lost Ark - was probably the most memorable event of the summer for me. So I figure it is worth writing it down, even though it happend a while ago, on August 25th. 

I was guiding the last three days of a Mt Blanc week for Mont Blanc Guides. Some images from the earlier part of that week:

My fellow guide Thierry, and some of the chemicals that keep him going...

Our group enjoying dinner in the Albert Premiere hut.

The original Albert Premiere (still used). The newer hut is out of view up and to the left.

Some of our group picked up a bright and shining orb that they found lying on the ground

Hiking down to La Tour from the Albert Premiere hut..

 My client, Iain, and I decided to head to the Grand Paradiso, in Italy, to finish off the week since the terrain was more attractive to Iain. And we had a lot of espresso to drink. My friend Natasha was visiting, and hitched a ride with us through the Mt Blanc Tunnel into Italy's Aoste Valley, and up the Valsaverenche to the car park below the Grand Paradiso. She planned on doing a trail run between the two huts - the Chabod, and the Vittorio Emmanuel - on the day that Iain and I planned to climb the mountain. 

First off it is worth mentioning that the Vittorio Emmanuel is one of the most liked huts in the alps. Friendly staff, beautiful setting, and incredible food (for a hut) all make it attractive. It is far more affordable than most French huts, but more comfortable as well. And the Guardian there speaks spanish, so I can actually communicate with him. 
The Vittorio Emmanuel Hut below the Grand Paradiso

We checked in on our first day, and had the typical four-course Italian dinner. We slept in small, private rooms, instead of the huge dorm-style rooms common in most huts. Iain and I woke at 4am and began the trudge to the summit. The route goes up a lot of talus first, before it meets some relatively steep snow and ice. We roped up at that point, and moved together up the glacier as the sun rose. Mt Blanc - off in the distance, was smothered in storm clouds. The southern French alps - to our west -were also covered. Eventually clouds moved in and we walked through fog and snow to the summit ridge. Iain was pleased to see the lady Madonna on the summit. We snapped some photos, and began the welcome descent.

Storm clouds approaching over the French/Italian border during our climb

Iain on the summit: "You mean you woke me up at 4:00am to walk five hours up this glacier and THIS is the view I get?"

The clouds had cleared once we reached the end of the glacier, and we had a fairly sunny walk back towards the hut. 

About 200m from the hut, I heard a small rockfall coming off the cliff above us. I pulled my camera out and aimed it at the sound. Just as I brought the camera up to my eye, a large piece of the cliff came off in a tremendous roar. I snapped away for a few frames, astonished at the size of the boulder that was rolling down the slope. After a moment, it appeared that the boulder was rolling more or less towards Iain and I. We backed up slowly, and sidestepped a bit of talus, keeping our eye on the boulder bearing down in our direction. It launched about 30m airborne over a moraine uphill of us (and the hut) and its new trajectory seemed to take it on a path directly towards the hut. It was moving quickly. Maybe 60-120km/hr or so but it was hard to tell. We were shocked, it seemed we were about to watch a large cubic boulder (10-15m on a side) steam-roll our hut. It stopped about 70m from the uphill side of the hut (only about 30m from the original - but now empty - V. Emmanuel hut). We were flabbergasted. 

The first seconds of the rock fall.

A second later, the large boulder appears...

And keeps moving...

And  moving...

A close up of the carnage.

And the boulder keeps rolling down the moraine. At at about this time we were convinced the boulder wasn't rolling towards us as much as it was rolling towards the hut. 

The boulder decelerates before coming to rest about 30 meters from the old V. Emmanuel hut. 

As the dust cloud settled, we walked back over to the hut - where everyone was outside looking at the boulder. It reminded me of the black monolith from 2001: a space odyssey - except for it was white - and bigger. 

And there it is (a person is visible walking towards it). Bring your rock shoes if you go there. There could be some good, new problems to do.

The crowd at the hut checking out the spectacle.

I think we all figured that the rockfall we had just witnessed was about as big as a rockfall often gets. But you  can never forget when you are in the mountains, that all those rocks around you, those boulders lining the trails, making good bivi shelters, etc... They had to get there somehow. We just happened to witness nature-in-action.

Iain and I started drinking beer to calm our nerves and to celebrate our climb. Natasha arrived, after having run back from the Chabot hut. She had seen the dust cloud from the trail, and had felt the earth tremble as the rocks came down. She was sure that the hut (and us) would be buried in rubble. Happily reunited, we enjoyed omelettes and pie, and killed time until dinner. 

We took a nap for a little bit (or at least tried to). It seemed like every 20 minutes or so another (smaller) rockfall would come down. We would inevitably run to the window to look out, and so would every other guest on that side of the hut. It was almost comical. 
Our view from the hut window, as another small rockfall comes down.

Natasha strolls over to check out the new boulder.

By this point a helicopter had been flying around, surveying the rockfall and the cliff it began from, and occasionally landing at the hut to discuss details with the guardian. 

Mt. Rescue personnel attempting to charm the ladies of the hut. The woman on the left is one of the cooks. She ended up injuring her hand while running from the second big rockfall. 

Natasha wondering just what the hell is going to happen later in the afternoon - after her first night ever spent in a European hut. 

No suggestion of evacuation or early departure was made. It seemed we were all comfortable hanging out there for the time being. 

About an hour before dinner, most of us were back outside drinking beer and enjoying the afternoon. The helicopter had made a few more trips. But no public address was made. Some people were nervous enough to start packing up. Many of us felt that the hut, built on the top of a small moraine, was reasonably protected from rockfall. 

The helicopter returned to the hut, and had just set down on the heli-pad, when I heard everyone scream. About 60 people started running in panic down hill. The helicopter immediately powered up and climbed safely away from us. Natasha and I couldn't see around the building what they were looking at. We stepped out a little and saw a cloud of rocks and dust much bigger than the first rockfall bearing down on us. We both slithered underneath a wire railing, dropped off a stone wall, and began running down the tundra in our hut clogs. I stopped occasionally and to snap a photo or two and to see where Natasha was. I wasn't sure what I was thinking. The heard instinct made me want to run with everyone else but I started to realize that running downhill was never going to help anyone of us. We'd be outrun if the rockfall was big enough. I started planning which direction to run sideways as the noise of the rockfall began to subside, and the screams died down. 
We all looked up at the carnage. An enormous chunk of cliff had come down. Maybe a little under 30m (100 feet) tall, by 15-20m wide, and an unknown amount deep.  A boulder even bigger than the one lying near the hut had fortunately been deflected by the moraine in another (safer) direction. We all breathed a sigh of relief and walked back to the hut. 

The crowd runs from the hut during the second rock fall

At this point the crowed was on edge. We were all booked into the hut for the night, dinner would be served in 20 minutes (but one cook broke her hand in the talus during the Melee and was helicoptered off immediatley) but we were all wondering if the Guardian would end up telling us to evacuate. Some were taking it upon themselves to pack up and leave, but with darkness soon approaching, most were a bit unsure as to what to do . 

We all ended up sitting down for dinner when it was called, but it was a quiet, uneasy dinner. 
We were served soup and wine - which didn't do much to cheer anyone - when the helicopter landed again. Several men dressed in mountain rescue uniforms walked into the dining area and informed us (in Italian) that the hut was being evacuated, and the helicopter would be available to anyone who needed a lift down to the car park (a two and a half hour walk away). 

The three of us, Natasha, Iain, and I, had our gear packed in a matter of minutes. I paid the guardian and wished him luck. We waited outside as dusk set in, and in only a few minutes, a helicopter landed at our feet. It was Natasha's first flight, my dozenth or so, and Iain had spent time in helicopters as well. What an ominous reason though...

Our ride arrives...

This sure beats getting buried in rubble in your sleep!

Iain was thrilled: a 2.5-hour knee-pounding descent turns into a five-minute helicopter flight. 

Natasha hops out of the Mountain Limo - about 100 feet from our car. What service...

It took five minutes or less for the whirly-bird to take us down to the car park in Pont, and set us down just 100m from my car.  An hour later, we were eating pizza and drinking espressos to calm our nerves in a quiet little cafe down-valley from Courmayer. By midnight, we had returned to Chamonix.