Alpine Beginnings on the Conville Course
It was my first night in Chamonix. I was sat, surrounded by 12 other capable young alpinists and climbers, at the campsite around a circular table. We were there to formally meet the other participants of the Conville course as well as the guides that would be leading us. I felt like an imposter and my heart filled with dread to introduce myself.
I had somehow managed to infiltrate into a world I did not know. With each confident voice the lists of their previous alpine experiences went on and my turn was getting closer.
What would I say? How could I make it sound better? I couldn’t remember the name of the Welsh mountain I’d scrambled up the week before to break in my brand new B2 boots required for the course. I hadn’t done an ML training or assessment like the others. I didn’t even know what ML was. The word ‘trad’ kept being bandied about and again, I didn’t know this word either. What I had done, is hiked up Helvellyn 3 years before on an impromptu trip in snowy January conditions with a friend. And having rejected advice from experienced hillwalkers at our hostel, (who needs crampons anyway?), we ended up having several harrowing experiences on Striding Edge, somehow managing to get back to our hostel in one piece…So, maybe best not to mention that. I could just about remember to tie an 8 knot into a harness - as long as I was with someone else to double check it before they lead me up a route - but that wasn’t much to boast about.
Snow skills up at L’Index
The truth was that this was not my world. I had very little useful experience in the outdoors. And prior to meeting my good friend Madi, I had no way into the world of outdoor adventure and training. My friendship group at the time were into camping at festivals, not in the mountains at best. Getting into climbing from a non outdoorsy background is incredibly hard. It’s hard to find people willing to take you out, it’s hard to know what equipment you need, it’s expensive and lets face it: It’s more of a man’s world and certainly not one overflowing with women of colour.
“lets face it: It’s more of a man’s world and certainly not one overflowing with women of colour.”
It was Madi who had encouraged me to apply for the Conville course. She’d helped me with the application, lent me all her kit, taken me scrambling up Tryfan and showed me how to tie an 8 knot the week before. I knew I loved bouldering, I loved the feeling of being out in the wild, I loved the idea of getting to do more exploring; of becoming competent, of learning new skills; and I had dreamed of becoming an expedition medic. I just didn’t know where to start.
A break in the weather on the route down from L’Index
I looked again around the circle of people. Even their outdoor clothes looked the part with the fancy brand names, as I sat with my Decathlon bin-bag-esque waterproof trousers on, slowly sweating and freaking out.
“I sat with my Decathlon bin-bag-esque waterproof trousers on, slowly sweating and freaking out. ”
In the end I just said I was a nurse, a boulderer from Sheffield. This actually worked out quite well because everyone seemed to love Sheffield and filled in the gaps for me about the wonderful climbing scene there, I just smiled and nodded along.
Later, we were informed by the guides on what to expect over the next 3 days in the mountains. The weather, the types of routes we might do, the training sessions and finally the day leading our group on a route. It all sounded so exciting, I was doing it, I was PART of it. The only thing left to do was to divide into teams of 3.
Certain no one would pick me, I decided to make a B-line for the only other 2 girls in the group. Just as I approached them they were snapped up by someone else. “Fuck,” I thought “I’m literally going to be like that miserable fat kid left to the end of picking for sports day”. Thankfully - before I desperately moved towards a slightly anaemic, sickly looking guy who was refusing to camp in the campsite - I heard “Hey Sheffield! You coming with us?” and two smiling guys, Ben and Ewan welcomed me in the team.
On the first day, all teams headed up to the Mer de Glace, Chamonix’s biggest glacier. We moved across the glacier as a team of 3 led by our guide, Graham. Attached together by one rope, each with a system of coiled rope and knots that would stop our partner plummeting to their death in the event of falling down a crevasse. That was the theory anyway. In a glacial river valley I got to try ice climbing from the safety of a bottom rope, learn how to safely place ice screws to make an anchor, use (and put on!) crampons.
Snow belays and prussic work in wet conditions
I remember telling myself to be a sponge, to soak up every piece of information and instruction as I was sure I was the least experienced person there. I felt I needed to work extra hard to be an equal member of the team. I remember looking around and realising I was far more capable than I had given myself credit for. I whizzed up past two other teams on the ice wall, considering careful placement of ice screws and used crampon technique as instructed.
Unfortunately for us the weather changed and fresh snow fall meant the following days limited our expeditions. This meant we missed out on ticking off classic mixed routes like Arête des Cosmiques, North West ridge on Les Petite Aiguilles Vert and the likes. Our guides used the time for us to learn skills on snow. We took a cable car to Flégère and L’Index and learnt how to build snow belays, ran through crevasse rescue skills, ice axe arrests and prusik skills. The guides are so knowledgeable and take care to explain things methodically, whilst also giving space for you to make and learn from mistakes. At some point on our rainy skills day there was a break in the clouds and even from where we were, at around 2,000 meters, I was forced to crane my neck upwards to observe the pointed tower of the Aiguille du Midi rising majestically out from the clouds, as though through a portal to a kingdom high in the sky. I almost felt thankful that we’d been rained off for the led routes the next day, how on earth would I hold my shit together climbing at that altitude?
Thankfully life back at base camp was more chilled: a time to wind down, meet friends and debrief about the day. Camping du Glacier d’Agentière campsite is the place to be for alpine bums in Chamonix. Unfortunately it was extremely wet for us (in fact the campsite flooded). Having foresight, I’d positioned myself up on the hill, Ewan down the hill woke up on the last day to a sleeping bag full of bog water. But it is a great place to network and build friendships and find climbing partners. Ben, Ewan and I spent our evenings cooking supper under dripping tarpaulins, playing cards, route planning and drinking beers. I formed friendships with the two of them that have lasted through the years and through shared experience.
Very wet campsite at Camping d’Argentiere
I never did get over (indeed fully have gotten over!) the imposter syndrome when out mountaineering. Perhaps it’s just a confidence thing that will go with more experience or, perhaps, it’s not having many women of colour as role models or inspiration and feeling like a fish out of water in that environment. Either way, on the Conville course it didn’t really matter not having much alpine experience. In fact, the whole reason the Jonathan Conville Memorial Trust was set up is so that young people can pursue their love for the outdoors and train safely to gain confidence in the mountains. The trust is in memory of Jonathan Conville, a 27 year old budding alpinist who died on the Matterhorn. A small intake of 18 to 30 year olds are selected each year for their courses which are heavily subsided, allowing people like me to get a rare chance to learn from mountain guides. Looking back I was incredibly fortunate to have been accepted on the course and to have had the incredible experience that I did. If like me you’re worried that you don’t have the suitable mountaineering experience, they also offer courses in alpine preparation weekends in North Wales.
The dream team: Ben, Ewan and myself at L’Index
Although the weather meant we could not do our led route on the final day of the course that year, the following year, equipped with the skills we’d learnt on the course, Ben, Ewan and I went back to Chamonix. It was here that did our first alpine route together, Arête des Cosmiques. This was the same route off the Aiguille du Midi station I’d spied the year before (and was glad to have avoided!). This year though, we had perfect weather. On the cable car up to 3,842 meters, I was thrilled and almost shaking with sheer excitement and fear that the day held. I had to keep my shit together now. I was doing it. I was an alpinist!
Ewan and I got together that trip and have been together since. The three of us on the Dream Team have stayed firm friends, adventure buddies and now housemates, living together in Sheffield. The Conville course was my first real taste of being accountable in the mountains. That first trip to Chamonix, gave me the confidence to say “hell yeah!” to subsequent alpine trips and build upon my mountaineering experience. It was the perfect stepping stone into the world of alpinism, allowing me to meet like minded people, learn the basics and begin to feel empowered in the mountains.
Tselane is an emergency nurse from Sheffield who is also a qualified ski instructor. She works winters as a nurse/ski instructor for a ski school in the Swiss alps and has spent periods in Chamonix developing ski touring and mountaineering skills. Her aspiration is to become an expedition medic one day.