Sump To Summit

With the van pointed south and the sun shining on every forecast, Elinor and I had a rare dilemma: where the hell do we go?

Usually, it’s simple – chase the patch of good weather. But when everywhere is good across the Alps, suddenly we’re paralysed by choice. We flicked through guidebooks, made a few cups of tea, and settled on a plan: Dent Blanche. 4000m of rocky goodness, remote enough to feel like a proper mission, and one we’d not done before. Sorted.

We arrived in Les Haudères on the 22nd of June, just as a heatwave was getting into full swing. Bags packed, boots ready, we set alarms for 5am and got our heads down.

After a bleary-eyed breakfast, we drove to the trailhead and started the hike up to the hut. The path climbed steadily and beautifully through alpine meadows and rocky turns. Over the 8km walk we gained about 1700m – enough to feel it. The second half took us through glacial moraine and up a ridgeline to avoid the melting snowfields. But eventually, there was no avoiding it. The last stretch to the hut was a classic trudge: deep, wet snow, occasionally up to our knees, with just enough crust to almost support your weight – until it didn’t.

We reached the hut in the early afternoon and were met by George, the hut guardian. He told us to treat the place like we were staying at our mother-in-law’s, which raised a few eyebrows but fair enough – he clearly cared about the place.

Elinor asked, hopefully, if there might be cake.

George shook his head. “Too few people,” he said. “No time.”
Elinor seriously considered offering to bake one herself.

That evening we ate, watched the snow slowly soften in the golden light, and turned in early. The plan was to spend the next day resting and acclimatising at the hut before heading up for the summit attempt. Not a bad way to spend a heatwave.