Journals | 1974 | The Big Little Expedition | Phase Change | The French Scene | A Walk on the Wild Side | Solo | Day Tripper | From a Woman's Point of View | Insanity | Wet Days ... Wet Nights | Of Rock and Crushed Bones | Sunny Days in Scotland | January in the Gorge | Editorial

THE FRENCH SCENE

R. H. CRAWSHAW

THE French are often thought to be over-stylised, over-romantic and over-nationalistic in their approach to climbing as they are sometimes seen to be in their approach to everything else. Certainly this image of French attitudes is not diminished by a visit to a national gala such as the 20th anniversary of Annapurna or the film of the Makalu expedition. On both occasions films of "previous French triumphs in the Himalaya" were greeted with cheers and clapping each time the Tricolor was hoisted on yet .html peak. However, such overt symptoms of nationalism are not present when meeting Paris climbers themselves, and it is worthwhile considering some of the French climbing institutions, areas, techniques and individuals in an effort to understand some of the elements peculiar to the French scene.

Generally speaking French climbing institutions could be described as similar in many ways to those in this country. National organisations such as the C.A.F. and the G.H.M. set the standards and preside over local and university clubs. However, climbing itself in France tends to be much more of a family activity. At Fontainebleau at weekends wives and small children complete with P.A.s, follow the circuits with everyone else, a scene which might perhaps be compared to Harrisons on a fine day. But this activity also extends itself to the high mountains where families or inexperienced climbers take guides or go on one of the many courses run by the C.A.F. We were surprised at the Triden bivouac hut by a guide with a family of parents and two children in tow who were spending ten days in the mountains before going off to the "Cote d’azur" for the rest of their holiday. The C.A.F. with its many local "sections" is the main organising body and runs Alpine courses of different standards similar to those of the old M.A. They mostly hire "aspirant-guides" to lead the parties, The same system is used by the university clubs. So the section of the population which in this country would be involved in "outward-bound" type activities seems in France to be orientated more directly towards easier Alpine mountaineering. The traditional institution representing the mountaineering elite is still the G.H.M. which broadly speaking combines the functions of the A.C. and the A.C.G, in Britain. At the same time the "Ecole nationale de Ski et Alpinisme" based on Chamonix, runs courses for instructors and trains and selects future guides.

The Paris group hangs together purely through personalities, locality and climbing interest. The "dobbers" of the late fifties and early sixties such as Paragot and Barardini, have taken over from the Herzog, Magnone, Franco generation as the representatives of the French climbing establishment though the "freaked out" Claude Deck, secretary of the G.H.M., defies definition. The generosity of climbers like Eric Vola, renowned for his drinking and maniacal driving, with whom I went climbing several times, and the sociality of people like Bougerolles, Mroz,and Denise Escan makes talk of Anglo-French suspicion absurd. Climbers such as Mazeaud seem to be viewed with the same wry irony as they are over here. The "Mountain" article on the international Everest expedition was a source of much amusement to the Paris climbers who read it. Andrzej Mroz was truly the centre of the group. He climbed with everybody and was the initiator of most of the Paris activity which was taking place in the winter of 1971/2, His death on the Noire must have been a tremendous blow both to the Paris group and to French climbing in general.

The Paris group have not surprisingly remained quite distinct from any of the local guides’ societies though some of them have themselves become "aspirant-guides", The reason for this detachment amounting sometimes to antipathy is because of the extreme difficulty of becoming and making a living as a guide. This entails a two week "stage" run by the E.N.S.A. at Chamonix which about 50 per cent of applicants pass. A number of "courses" are prescribed in order to be eligible for this "aspirant-guide" qualification. A period of two or three years is subsequently demanded during which time the "aspirant-guide" must have had a minimum amount of experience guiding parties for clubs or private clients and have completed a further number of "courses". There is a further "stage" for the "Brevet de guide". But even when recognised nationally as a guide, it is difficult to build up a sufficiently large clientele without being a member of one of the local "societies" which is very difficult unless one has been a local resident from birth. Things have apparently eased slightly since the Terray, Rebuffat admissions to the S.G.C., but the three year gamble for only summer employment is more than most are prepared to risk. The result is that most of the Paris group are in full-time employment and can only get away to climb at weekends or over holiday periods.

The Parisians are prepared to travel considerable distances at weekends. If winter climbing at Chamonix is "on", an all-night drive followed by a drive up in the "telepherique" and a bivouac on Saturday night is by no means unheard of. Possible alternatives to the Mont Blanc area by way of mountain routes are the Vercors and the Devoluy, East and West of Grenoble respectively, which provide sheer, limestone cliffs of 3,000 ft and longer. The climbing there is spectacular and on a Dolomitic scale. Parts of the Devoluy are still remarkably and beautifully wild and the area is only now being opened up, Many new lines remain to be climbed and it is here that much of the activity was concentrated. Weekend departures for the Alps or areas such as these seem to be planned very casually and at the last moment. Eric, having been excited about the necessity of getting gear ready and of leaving on time to the Devoluy, arrived from work half an hour late, rushed off to buy food for the route, then suggested that we drive round to Mroz’s to pick up some information about the area and to ask where the route went. On returning to Eric’s, we found Jean Afanasief with a hurt leg having just been knocked off his bicycle which had no brakes. When he had been given a lift across Paris to his brother who was a doctor – "Do you climb?" "Yeah, from time to time..." "You know Cliff Phillips?"... "Er..." "Alan Rouse?..." – we drove back to Eric’s to find him relaxing over a large meal saying it wasn’t worth leaving yet because of the traffic. It was about 10.30 when we finally got away with no prospect of sleep the other end about 6 a.m. when we arrived at the barn where Mroz and Bougerolles had already been asleep for four hours. Ben, the American and I managed a quick 2½ hours. Not so Eric, who was hopping about, cigarette in mouth, wondering when we were going to start. After an exhausting slog up interminable screes, Eric banged off up the climb and after spending an uncomfortable night due to inadequate bivvy gear, still appeared equally chirpy at the top. Earlier in September, he had done the Paris-Marseille run in 5½ hours for a quick weekend in the Calanques. Two other climbers on the route had come all the way from Rennes in the north-west of France.

The French make a clear difference between "la Montagne" and "1’école", that is between mountain routes and nursery outcrops. Outcrop climbing is regarded as training ground for the big hills. There are several much frequented training areas in the Paris region of which the best known are Fontainbleau and La Saussois. Fontainebleau is a large forest, strewn with sandstone boulders grouped in hillocks across about 400 square miles. The area is about 60 miles south of Paris and people flock there on sunny weekends. In winter it becomes the hard man’s playground with problems ranging from easy to totally desperate. Within each group of rocks, circuits of various levels have been categorised according to Alpine grading. Arrows of the appropriate colour indicate the exact route. Individual problems of sufficient length and interest are themselves graded from I-VI The grading is generally considerably higher than in the Alps. Steel-fingered monkey-men and girls in bikinis leap and swing from hold to hold chattering gaily. Moves are often dynamic with a spring to the hold above which one finds difficult to imagine possible with any sort of lead out. Proximity to the ground makes it possible to attempt the desperate, though in fact the end of a problem may be as much as twenty – twenty-five feet off the ground. Individual problems become obsessions to which one returns every weekend and there is no doubt that finger strength as well as technique improve remarkably as one becomes accustomed to the nature of the rock.

The other main Paris areas is the "Saussois", a series of limestone outcrops about 180 miles south of Paris. The holds are small and polished and routes are of a very high standard. However, as in all "écoles", pitons abound and all hard moves are very well protected and generally involve direct aid. The area is the origin of Terray’s "Saussois" boots which are light, totally rigid and lace down to the toes. They are ideal for all limestone climbing and for pure rock routes in the Alps and are much used by the French climbers.

The obvious difference in technique is in the use of pegs. Since "écoles" are merely training grounds there are no ethical limitations though on most outcrops ample numbers of pegs are in place and putting in any more would be frowned on. British free climbing ethics are regarded by most French climbers with high respect and the British have on the whole a "hard" reputation. This is doubtless because they are not used to "les clogs" which seem to them to be difficult to place and unreliable. It is only beginning to be realised that these are precisely the advantages that the nut has over the peg as well as providing obviously greater possibilities for free climbing. The idea of not using a nut for aid, however, is for the average French climber outside the realms of understanding; "Mais, c’est du masochisme, non?"

Climbing perhaps more than most sports develops tightly-knit groups and by extension has become at times a peculiarly nationality-conscious activity The striking successes of the English and French expeditions to Annapurna and Makalu, compared with the foundering of the Everest experiences, have highlighted and provided immediate arguments for such an attitude. It seems that it is less in an atmosphere of optimism and logistics than on the level of individuals and small groups that international understanding within mountaineering is likely to flourish. Certainly climbing has much to gain in terms of wider knowledge of techniques and areas through for example wider distribution and perhaps translation of climbing journals. However, perhaps more now than in recent years, with a greater individualism re-emerging in climbing personal contact and discussion between individuals or groups of different nationality may also provide new dimensions in attitudes and thinking about values and ethics within the sport.