It's official - the silly season has kicked off. I was up on Le Tour today in deteriorating weather, with a category 3 avalanche forecast above 2000m on all aspects. It had put down about 25 to 35cm last night and there was a stiff southwesterly wind moving alot of snow about.

At about 11am we had 3 helicopters head towards the Vallorcine side in quick succession. When we got up to the Tete de Balme, the piste was closed, so I asked the pisteurs if there had been an avalanche. It turns out there was one person buried with no transceiver at the top of the Combe des Norvegiennes, known by locally based British guides as the Scandy Trap, after a major incident in 2001. I was about to head off with a team of guides and instructors to help with the probe line when the news came through that the dogs had found someone, but no news as yet as to whether it's a live one or not. After an hour under heavy wind blown snow, the chances aren't great. Hopefully we'll get news in the paper tomorrow morning.

Take it easy out there, people...

The Chamonix lift system is almost 100% open as of this weekend. Despite the "doom and gloom" reports, the snow cover has been reasonable, and powder skiing is certainly very feasible above 2000m. Coverage is a bit random, but in general north facing aspects have a little more depth. The wind has been moving snow around a fair amount, so it's drifted in some unusual places. I've been checking out Courmayeur and Le Tour over the past few days and had some good turns.

The top of the Grands Montets is yet to open, and reports from touring parties indicate some cover but also some sizeable holes on the Argentiere side. We have two weather fronts due this week, so it should be a white Christmas in Chamonix. Ho ho ho!

Winter kicked off on the 11th November with snowfall tot he valley and a rash of people dashing out on skis. I was just off to Kendal so wasn't able to take advantage, and by the time I got back the föhn had been blowing for a week and stripped it all back/consolidated the base a bit.

Now we're getting the next top up, with 15 cm outside the house today, and more forecast for the rest of the week. Time to crank the bindings up I feel...

I've just got back from a mammoth week at Kendal Mountain Festival: 3 days of on-site prep and then 4 days of full on action, 17 hour days coordinating the presenters and acting as the face of the Fest, featuring lectures, films, discussion panels, art and photo exhibitions, full scale beer drinking and dance action from the incomparable Farmyard Noises.40 cm of rain over the weekend didn't put a damper on spirits at the Fest - we had our malt sponsor Bowmore to assist with that!

You can check out the prize winning films on the Kendal Mountain Festival website, but I was asked to compile a list of other stuff for folk to check out. Every year at Kendal, people tell us there's too much, but we like it that way! No-one can see it all, so here are my highlights:

• Lecture: Tom Hornbein talking about his amazing traverse of Everest and especially the influence on his life of Barry Corbett, one of his climbing partners on that trip who was later in a wheelchair after a heli ski accident. Emotional and inspiring stuff.
• Climbing films: Welsh Connections from Dave Brown and Lynwen Griffiths, featuring an old friend, hippy Graham Desroy aka Streaky, Slate Monkeys from Paul Diffley and Slab and Crack from Al Lee of Posing Productions with Lucy Creamer showing all the tension of bold grit leads.
• Skiing Film: with a tip of the hat to Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Skiing shows what ski mountaineering is all about, miles better than the hour long ski porn films that tend to predominate these days.
• Check out the winner of the Short category if you can: Afghanistan - A Small Flame of Hope by David James. I've climbed with David in the Alps and he's a genuine and warm hearted guy with a drive to re-introduce mountain tourism into the Wakhan corridor, the peaceful north east of Afghanistan.

It's been a great Fest: thanks to all the presenting team and to all the audience for getting into Kendal in the horrendous weather. See you all in 2010!

We often refer to very steep and pointy mountains as being "Tolkienesque", with perhaps more than a passing reference to the original cover of The Hobbit. I've just been rereading The Hobbit and Tolkien must have been in the mountains at some point, given the insightful nature of some of his writing:

This has to be one of the best descriptions of a storm in the mountains ever written:

"You know how terrific a really big thunderstorm can be down in the land and in a river valley; especially at times when two great thunderstorms meet and clash. More terrible still are thunder and lightning in the mountains at night, when storms come up from the East and West and make war. The lightning splinters on the peaks, and rocks shiver, and great crashes split the air and go rolling and tumbling into every cave and hollow; and the darkness is filled with overwhelming noise and sudden light"

And in a more humourous vein:

" 'I have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I can't think what anyone sees in them' said our Mr Baggins"

I wouldn't normally go shouting about my own personal climbing - but in this case it feels like quite a big deal.

I've been at a steady level in terms of my rock climbing for many years: happy if I can on sight F7a and UK trad E5 6b essentially. I've often thought that I couldn't learn much more in terms of rock climbing, having been at it for 30 years, but thankfully I've been proved wrong this year. Approaching climbing with a trad head on has always limited what I've been able to do in terms of sheer technical difficulty, but gradually over the years of living in France, I've taken on board the idea of working routes a bit more. In the UK, I've never been on a route more than twice, but realised here that the way people push their grades is by lots of hard work, getting the moves wired so that, like a gymnast on a floor exercise, it's only a perfect 10 that gets you to the belay chain.

I had been on Reve de Singe, an 8a at Gietroz, for the first time on a top rope in the middle of July with Cavey, Jude and Matt. Cavey had cracked it a few days later leaving me feeling quite envious, but the whole project had to go on hold from then until the end of the alpine summer season.

I had another go on a top rope and dialled quite a few of the moves in September, but it still felt a long way off until, bizarrely, I tried bolt to bolting it on the lead in early October. Suddenly the extra motivation of being on the sharp end produced the necessary oomph to throw the dyno's through the key section. It started to feel like less of a fantasy and more like it might possibly happen.

I was down in the Gorges du Tarn with a big team of "guides en vacances" a couple of weeks ago, and having onsighted 7b down there, I worked a 7c+ and got it in half a day on the 2nd redpoint attempt.I had alot of help from the only non-guide on our team, Pete Barrass, a Sheffield based physio who brings a very scientific approach to his cragging in terms of nutrition, stretching, resting and timing of the big effort.

Back in Chamonix, the weather over the last week has been perfect for valley cragging: dry and cool. I had a go yesterday although I was still a bit tired from a bouldering session earlier in the week, and hadn't been on it for 3 weeks, so needed a refresher on the sequence for the top headwall, which is very sustained and sequency. Persuaded by Twid, I had a go at the redpoint but failed to hold a crucial hold in the crux sequence.

Back on it today, it all felt a bit pressured - I'm working over the weekend and then there's bad weather forecast for next week, putting an end to the prospect of working it any more until the spring, which would effectively mean back to square one. Supported by Martin Burrows Smith who's based within a few minutes of the crag, I dogged the neighbouring 7b, lowered down the line putting the draws in, and practised just a few crucial sections on top rope. An hour's rest while Marty did a couple of routes nearby, and then it was time for the big effort.

The first hard moves went much more easily than yesterday, and I arrived at the half rest below the crux feeling much fresher. There'a fine line between resting and wasting endurance on these things, so I went for it after a minute or so. I latched the crucial hold that had eluded me yesterday, but a foot popped on the lip of the roof and I was almost off. Just managed to get over the lip, breathing hard and needing a quick pause before tackling the intricate sequence of the upper headwall.

Again, how long to rest: will it benefit or will I just get nervous and or pump out? Once committed to the sequence, there was no stopping, and I almost fumble clipped the last draw, but the momentum by that stage was unstoppable and with a shriek of delight I grabbed the chain.

8a at last.

Thanks to all the belayers, especially Marty and Twid, and Pete B for his input on the sport science side.

For all you snowheads out there, the first snow flakes of the winter fell on me today while Stu, Matt and I were climbing at Doran above Sallanches. Trust the British guides to be cragging while it's freezing cold, belaying in big gloves and down jackets. As we got back home, the first proper snow of the winter at valley level came past my office window.

Lets get ready for winter everyone:

• crank the bindings
• sharpen the ice axes and crampons
• put the batteries back in the transceiver

BRING IT ON!!!!

The Weisshorn is one of those mountains that you can see from all over the Western Alps. Combine that with the knowledge that it's one of the most difficult 4000m peaks to summit, and that makes it very attractive as an objective for guides and clients alike.

The problem with guiding routes like this is that circumstances need to coincide: having the right client who is both motivated, acclimatised and capable during a period when the mountain is in the right condition and the weather is stable. Luckily for me, all these came together this week when climbing with Gerard Ritter, a friend from way back , now heading up Lowe Alpine in Benelux. Gerard is a very experienced alpinist with Scottish credentials too. We first climbed together in the Northern Corries of the Cairngorms in the 80's. Having made a great success in the outdoor business and raised a family as well, he's approaching a significant age this year, and wanted to celebrate by climbing some of the routes that eluded him in his younger days.

We kicked off the week with some rock climbing and then a mixed route on the Tacul, before heading over to the Mattertal and up to the Weisshorn hut. The hut was fully booked, packed with guided and amateur groups all taking advantage of the settled weather. It was a relief to get up at 2 am, get out of the sauna and head up the hill in the leading peloton of guided groups. The snow couloir described in many guidebooks at the start is long gone, a victim of global warming, so an intricate traverse gets you onto the long snowfield leading to the start of the 400m climb up loose scrambling to the start of the ridge proper at 3900m.

Dawn found us well established on the technical section of the east ridge, which has some exciting sections of rock to turn several towers. Once on the snow, the cramponning wasn't as steep as I'd anticipated, though higher up the covering was a little more icy. Given that Gerard is 6 feet 7 and 100 kg compared to my 5 feet 7 and 70 kg, we took it nice and steady but were still on top in just under guidebook time of 6 hours. The view from there is amazing, especially that of the Tobleronenhorn to the south. The descent feels as long as the ascent, though it took less time, and we were back at the hut for 1 in the afternoon. I'd booked two nights at the hut in anticipation of being tired (we were!), but in retrospect it would have been better to hoof it to the valley after a short rest, as the second night in thre Weisshorn hut was the worst I've ever had in a hut - hot as hell. So hot I got out of the dorm at 11pm and laid on the ground outside, froze my arse off till 2 am and then got back in once the teams had left for the hill. Oh the joys of alpine guiding....

A gentle walk down the next morning and then a wind down on the Riffelhorn in Zermatt on the excellent Thermometeregg. A great 3 days of alpinsim on a classic hill. All I need to do now is combine the circumstances to get the north ridge done. Any takers?

Almost half way through the summer season already! Doesn't time fly when you're having fun?

A pretty good score sheet so far:

• A weeks cragging with Joy and Helen, peaking with an ascent of the North ridge of the Pointe Percée in the Aravis
• A week of snow and ice with Darren, ticking off the Cascade de Cosmiques in June being one highlight, plus of course the Whymper Couloir in stunning nick
• A week with Noelle and Michael ratching their technical level another notch with the Cosmiques Arete and a traverse of the Entreves
• Ten days with Mike, with highlights being the Hohlaubgrat on the Allalinhorn and the superb half traverse of the Breithorn, one of the best PD's in the Alps in my humble opinion...

Just back from a weeks break in UK. It's always good to have a break before launching into the busiest part of the season. If the state of Chamonix high street this evening is anything to go by, then the hills and huts are going to be quite crowded for the next couple of weeks..... lets hope the people and the weather stay cool.

When hydration systems first came out, they seemed like a really good idea - dehydration affects performance , and with deeper breathing at high altitude leading to more loss of fluid through exhaled air, and the dry mountain air getting rid of sweat faster, it's really important to stay hydrated from both a performance perspective and to avoid the onset of acute mountain sickness.

The problem is that, despite being a great concept, they simply don't work in an alpine environment. The number of times I've had clients who swear by their hydration systems, and then later in the week, one of the folllowing happens:

1. The tube freezes (allegedly avoidable by blowing back in to the reservoir)
2. The nipple gets torn off - particularly likely with Australian duck billed mammal types.....
3. Client either doesn't drink all the water or leaves loads behind at the end of the day

All the same, the week commencing 15th June was super hot and I was multi pitch rock climbing at speed, so I thought I'd give it a go again. I have a system from Source that is more robust than Australian duck billed mammals. on day 1, we went cragging at Arnad in Italy and on pitch 7, I felt a few drops of water. Looking up at the sky, there were a few clouds but nothing that looked like rain. After a few minutes, I realised the drops were only on my right leg. The nipple was leaking (not as bad as being ripped off at least).

Then the next day we were due to walk in to the Gramusset hut underneath the Pointe Percée so I filled it completely, shoved it down the sleeve in the back of the rucksack, and then packed the sack fully for 2 days away. Then went to pick the sack up to go out the door half an hour later, to discover a big pool of water on the floor, and an empty hydration system. I guess that the compression of the bladder had started a syphoning effect.

So - that's it - no more hydration system use for me, unless I can afford to get either wet or thirsty, which kind of loses the point of them in the first place, eh?