I started as a novice climbing enthusiast in the very early 1970s, by late 1973 I was becoming quite keen, and by 1975 I was starting to border on fanaticism. The gunks, the Adirondacks, and the White Mountains held my early climbing attention, but where else to put that growing fanaticism?
First, to grab my attention were the Tetons, and I remember sitting in the Library of Congress all day long, waiting for my girlfriend who was an aide to a senator, to finish work. In those pre-internet days, I furiously read and took notes for hours on end from the original Bonney and Ortenburger climbing guides. After two seasons at the Climbers Ranch, I had some good Teton routes under my belt and lots of stories from fellow climbing addicts. After those Teton summers there were only three things on my mind ... Chamonix (Snell's Field), Yosemite (Camp Four), and Denali (Talkeetna). There will be more to come in future posts.
It was because of the two items below that I turned my attention to Chamonix. Having left college for a term (my draft lottery number was 262 ... yahoo), and hitch-hiked all over Scotland in 1972, I purchased an issue in Fort William and impulsively subscribed to MOUNTAIN magazine. Ian McNaught Davis wrote regular hysterical essays in the magazine including such classics as "Drop, plop, or fly." But it was his hilarious and truthful 1975 account of Chamonix, "Deux Grandes Bieres," which sealed the deal. Of course, the publication in the same year of "The Hundred Finest Routes," was the catalyst which brought me to New York City to purchase a Freddie Laker Airways ticket.
I am heading back to Cham for the fifth time next summer with a head full of memories ...
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