The penultimate part of climbing Mont Blanc requires you to ascend for two and a half hours up a very steep mountain face. In bad weather the wind and snow can affect your visibility to a point where you can’t see the snow your feet are standing on, and that is before you consider the risk of an avalanche. Colloquially, between the guides, it is referred to as the Valley of Death.
I never expected it to be easy. After all, at 4,809m, it is the tallest mountain in Europe—but that is exactly what was so appealing to me.
It wasn’t until I was in my early thirties that I realised I enjoyed being forced out of my comfort zone. I was ambling through life on a steady ascent up the corporate mountain, playing tennis with friends and spending weekends on the beach, until something just clicked. I realized that I was letting life lead me, rather than me using what I was passionate about fuel the path I wanted to follow. Structure and security were fine, but they weren’t enough, they weren’t what I wanted. I ended up taking a leap into the unknown, diving headfirst into a different future—a future that would involve the two things that I was most passionate about: outdoor adventure and horology.
I had always been absorbed by the intricate craftsmanship behind watchmaking. Having initially founded the Arab Watch Guide as a hobby, the more I immersed myself in the world, the more I became fascinated with the minute details and precision required to create mechanical pieces. That passion spawned a new career for me, which kept me mentally stimulated, but that familiar desire for a bigger adventure persisted. I took to competing in triathlons and Ironman, before upgrading to an ultra-marathon and even climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. But I always knew that the dual passions that had been the catalysts to my life-altering decision ten years earlier were pointing to one logical conclusion: Mont Blanc.
When preparing to climb a mountain, planning is everything. With weather conditions able to change unpredictably, even the most seasoned climbing guides can’t forecast the conditions more than two days in advance. A week before our planned ascent early this summer, the route, trajectory and forecast all seemed to be perfect. That began to change as soon as we landed in Switzerland and made our way to the base of the Alps. Snow, rain and strong winds were set for the first few days climbing, but with the potential to clear up in time for us to summit on day three. A bit of bad weather is manageable, but not for the most dangerous element, the summit.
Despite the incessant foggy weather and worsening conditions, we kept to schedule making it through the menacingly-named Devils’ Needles to the safety of the Tête Rousse hut as planned. The trick is to keep your rhythm. The air is much thinner at altitude and it can be tricky to control your breathing. If you have to constantly stop to catch your breath, it can sap your energy and stamina levels—which you need to ensure you don’t get injured or put your life at risk. Upon making it up to the hut, we waited for the latest weather forecasts before attempting to tackle the Valley of Death.
On average, 30,000 people climb Mont Blanc every year. During the peak summer season as many as 200 people can summit per day. To date approx 1,400 people have died attempting the climb.
Things weren’t looking good, but there was still hope. We decided that if we were going to have any chance, then we needed to start earlier than normal. On the first couple of days climbing would begin around 6am, but to give ourselves more time to allow for a slower, steadier pace we set off at 4.30am. It was bitterly cold but still manageable. We started climbing the passage, and by the time we were about half way we were caught in a wind storm.
Suddenly the wind and snow whipped up around us forcing us to put on our masks. We had to pick up the pace if we were going to make it to the final hut, the Refuge du Goûter.
By the time we reached the hut the visibility was next to nothing. I could hardly see the snow I was walking on. By then it was at 6.30am and I had no idea what to expect next
Climbing Mont Blanc had been a dream for the past five years. I knew that I wanted to combine my love for watchmaking with something that would push me to my limits. Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro was great, but I wanted more. I knew that there was a deeper story I wanted to tell. I waited and waited, before finally pitching my idea to the luxury brand Montblanc, who unbeknown to me were secretly (and coincidentally) developing a new timepiece specifically built to deal with the stresses and pressures of scaling the world’s tallest peaks.
Part of the brand’s 1858 Geosphere collection, a series of specialty Zero Oxygen pieces were unveiled in April. The timepieces are the first to not use any lubricant within the movement and have it entirely encased without oxygen.What that means is that it eliminates the issues of oxidation and fogging within the watch that can happen during latitude changes and volatile atmospheric conditions. I was wearing the newly unveiled 1858 Geosphere 0 Oxygen Limited Edition 1786 version with a bronze case.
The Montblanc brand is on a journey to further establish itself in both the watch and adventure worlds, which is something I can deeply relate to. There was such a natural synergy to what we both want to achieve and, for me, it was a story that I not only wanted to tell, but also be a part of. Many people ask me my opinions on all sorts of watches, and I want the credibility to be able to take a timepiece built for climbers to the top of a mountain to see if it really does function perfectly at 4,000 meters in harsh conditions. Did it live up to expectations? It didn’t leave my wrist the entire week.
By the time we got to the final hut, it was packed with climbers waiting for the go-ahead allowing them to attempt to summit. Going from walking through a blizzard, feeling isolated and vulnerable, to essentially sitting in a waiting room packed with other climbers was unexpected.
The mood in the hut was tense. You could sense a simmering frustration among the climbers. After a little rest, we went over to the main billboard that monitors the weather conditions with forecasts, detailing the wind speed and how dangerous it was. It read, Wind speed: 110kph.
By that point we knew that we would not be able to complete the climb. The final part of Mont Blanc requires you to navigate a narrow path along an exposed ridge. With those wind speeds and zero visibility you may not be able to hold yourself, and could easily lose balance.
We waited an hour. Two hours. It was around 8.30am. All the climbers waited too, all except for one group of climbers who decided that they had had enough and were going to take the risk. We watched eagerly to see how they got on. They returned 10 minutes later.
With the guides constantly monitoring the conditions, if it was clear that things weren’t going to get better. In fact, they were getting worse. Our Plan B was to sleep in the hut and try again the following morning, but another storm was expected overnight and into the next morning.
The guides told us, even if we slept there for two days, it was highly unlikely that there would be a safe window to summit. Our climb was over. We needed to head back down, back through the Valley of Death.
A few months on, I look back at it as an incredible experience, but an incomplete task. I am proud that we were able to reach the point we did in those conditions. When something is taken out of your hands by Mother Nature, it humbles you. You can feel that you are ready physically and mentally, like nothing can stop you. But something bigger than you always can.
What has always drawn me to adventure sports is the mental and physical perseverance required. Anyone can run or swim or play tennis, but that added element of the unknown challenges you in different ways. You can be fully fit, but when you are stuck in a hut up a mountain waiting for a snowstorm to blow over for days, your mind starts wondering. How long do we wait here? Is it worth trying? How cold could it be? Am I risking my life? I have learned to love and embrace the uncertainties, if it hadn’t I would have just kept the desk job.
In hindsight, to have managed to climb the Valley, twice in a single day—which is the hardest part of the ascent—is something I am very proud of. But there is still something inside me that needs me to stand on top of that peak looking down.
I know I will one day, it’s just a matter of time.