Dreams Come True Telemark Ski Mountaineering on Mont Blanc

Editor's note: Telemark Voices is joined this week by Rasmus Skov Husted, who below details a truly telemark journey skiing Mont Blanc. Enjoy!

Why telemark mountaineer on Mont Blanc?

Why Mont Blanc? Why ski Mont Blanc? Why telemark ski Mont Blanc? For many years, climbing Mont Blanc has been on my bucket list – but why that mountain in particular? I’ve previously climbed higher peaks like Kilimanjaro (5895 meters above sea level) and Mount Elbrus (5641 meters above sea level). So why Mont Blanc, which is “only” 4810 meters above sea level? Is it because of the history and myth? Because it’s the highest mountain in Western Europe? There are certainly many mountains that are harder to climb – and not least ski down from.

I live in Denmark – a country with no mountains or options for skiing. Luckily due to my parent’s passion for skiing I’ve been skiing my whole life and telemark skiing since I was around 12. That led to some competitive telemark skiing as a teenager and ski seasons in France and Canada after high school. Over time, competitive racing was replaced by a passion for off-piste skiing, which became the driving force for many ski trips – for example Japan and the famous Japow! The latest development was an interest in randonnée skiing and the amazing opportunities it offers for first tracks and even more unique telemark challenges and nature experiences. In 2022, I spent a month of parental leave with my youngest son on a ski holiday with the family in Austria. That trip included telemark ski mountaineering on Grossvenediger (3666 meters above sea level) and Grossglockner (3798 meters above sea level), which really fueled my appetite for the higher mountains of Europe. The seed was planted, and the dream to climb and telemark ski Mont Blanc began.

First Attempt in 2023

The trip was booked with a guiding company I had previously had success with in 2014, when I climbed Gran Paradiso (4061 meters above sea level) with my wife—or rather, my then girlfriend whom I proposed to at the summit—and who is now my wife. The 2023 trip was scheduled for late April, and highly motivated, I began targeted training after New Year’s: strength- and cardio training, and hikes with a 10–15 kg backpack. In hindsight, I probably started a month too early, as I struggled with motivation during the final month on the long cardio sessions, some strain on one knee, and training either late or early in the day to avoid impacting family life—lesson learned.

The trip was planned with 2 x 3 days: three days for an acclimatization peak (Gran Paradiso), followed by Mont Blanc. In short, we succeeded in summiting Gran Paradiso. The weather conditions were relatively tough, and the final steep section had very challenging ice conditions, which pushed my ski crampon skills to new heights. A good and fun challenge. It was also a special day on Gran Paradiso, as our group was the only one to summit that day.

Unfortunately, it was already clear when we descended from Gran Paradiso that the conditions looked very poor for attempting Mont Blanc. And sure enough, after a few days of waiting with alternative activities like rock climbing and glacier randonnée on Vallée Blanche, the Mont Blanc attempt was cancelled. A huge disappointment! Especially because I hadn’t felt challenged physically, mentally, or ski-wise on Gran Paradiso, and I really wanted to test myself in telemark ski mountaineering above 4000 meters. I also realized how difficult it is to book this type of trip six months in advance, trying to hit good conditions on one specific day: timing of snow conditions, weather conditions, hut reservations, acclimatization, physical shape, mental readiness/risk willingness. Before returning to Denmark, I asked the guide whether it would be realistic to try again next season, but with Monte Rosa/Dufourspitze (4634 meters above sea level) as the acclimatization peak. The guide thought it was ambitious but realistic given my physical and skiing abilities—thus, the ambition for 2024 was set!

The 2024 Attempt

The same guide was booked with the “ambitious” plan. The training leading up to the trip was slightly adjusted, with less focus on strength training and more on cardio. Based on experience from the previous year, I waited until February to begin specific training. I’m generally very physically active, so I considered it realistic to reach a sufficient peak in physical condition after three months of targeted training. Another reflection in terms of physical preparation for a trip like this is the extra stamina and endurance you have to build in your thigh muscles (especially). The goal is not only to climb the mountain, but also to have the physical reserve to make cool and enjoyable telemark turns on the way down.

Acclimatization peak – Monte Rosa/Dufourspitze

The trip started with a long drive from Chamonix to Täsch in Switzerland, and then by train to Zermatt (a car-free town). The long travel time was rewarded with views of the Matterhorn from Zermatt. From Zermatt we took the lift up to Klein Matterhorn (3883 meters above sea level) in beautiful weather with sunshine and almost no wind. Then we crossed the Breithorn plateau, descended over the Schwarztor glacier to about 2400 meters above sea level (photo 1) and finally continued up to the Monte Rosa hut (2883 meters above sea level). The final 200 vertical meters to the hut were physically very demanding. I was not acclimatized, and it was the first day (just getting started). I began to doubt whether my training had been sufficient. I also had some unexpected pain on the outside of my right foot—surprising, since I’ve used the same boots for 10 years without issues. This was mentally tough if it didn’t improve by the next day. However, I stretched the foot as best I could, with some immediate relief.

The Monte Rosa hut was very nice and beautiful with delicious food, though quite expensive (e.g., 10 euros for a liter of water - no clean drinking water in the hut) (photo 2). At dinner, reports came in from other groups who had attempted Dufourspitze (the summit of the Monte Rosa massif) that day without success as there was too much fresh snow. Potentially discouraging news, but we hoped the snow would settle by the next day.

The next day started at 02:00 am with breakfast and departure with skins and headlamps at 03:00. Luckily the foot felt much better. No stars were visible due to cloud cover. As daylight broke, visibility was clearly very poor. However, it was calm with no wind. From the hut to the summit, it’s about 1800 vertical meters to the 4634 meters above sea level of Dufourspitze (photo 3 with marked route). 

A physically tough ascent, as the only acclimatization was one night in the hut. It was a mental challenge not being able to see the surroundings or progress towards the summit – but perhaps a blessing if the terrain had looked overwhelming. I used my mental mantra a few times, I’ll admit. We reached about 4300 meters above sea level after 5 hours, where skis were swapped for crampons and ice axe. The skis were left behind, as it’s not possible, at least not for me, to ski down from Dufourspitze (photo 3: red = skin ascent, orange = climbing section). Now came an exciting and semi-technical climb along the ridge for the final 300 vertical meters to the summit. I struggled with dizziness due to lack of acclimatization so focus was at 100%. Along many parts of the ridge, a misstep would mean a direct drop on either side! A thrilling and challenging experience, but pace was slowed due to the dizziness (photo 4).

We reached the summit in low visibility (photo 5). For a brief moment, the clouds parted, and we enjoyed a glimpse of the view (photo 6). We returned via the same ridge, passing a slow-moving group of four with very little room to overtake. Back at the skis I could feel the toll of the day’s effort and lack of acclimatization. The dream was to telemark ski down from Mont Blanc. That proved impossible from Dufourspitze – my thighs were completely spent! I tried a telemark turn but crashed, simply didn’t have the strength. Again, doubts about whether my training had been sufficient crossed my mind. Should I have started a month earlier like the year before? Was it a mistake to focus less on leg strength and more on cardio? I had to switch to alpine technique down to the hut. The snow was great (fresh powder although a little heavy), so it was frustrating to compromise. The return route was the same as the ascent.

At the hut, the guide mentioned that I could rent alpine skis for Mont Blanc. I replied that it wasn’t an option – it would feel like defeat (once a telemarker always a telemarker). He just smiled and left me to reflect on my rigid telemark principles together with my tired legs. 

In principle, we could have continued down to Zermatt and returned to Chamonix the same day. But that would’ve made for a longer day, harder to recover from, and another night at 2883 meters above sea level was good for acclimatization ahead of Mont Blanc. The next day was a nice descent to Zermatt, with clear signs that spring was arriving (photo 7).

The following day was a recovery day in Chamonix. It rained heavily most of the day—which meant snow at higher altitudes! Powder is great, but not so much that it becomes dangerous like the year before. A tricky balance!

Mont Blanc

It looked like a good weather window for the next day, and we managed to secure two sleeping spots at the Grand Mulets hut (3051 meters above sea level). It can be difficult to get a spot there, as many people want to go up when the weather is favorable. Spirits were high as it seemed all the many factors like weather, snow conditions, etc., needed for a ski mountaineering attempt on Mont Blanc were falling into place! A shout-out is due to my wife, who said during the planning phase: “If it fails again, we’ll just go for a month to catch the right weather window.” Yes, I love her very much! With her and our children in mind, I was fully motivated for this personal adventure.

The day started by taking the Aiguille du Midi lift to the mid-station at the Plan de Aiguille plateau (2310 meters above sea level). From there, we ski toured toward the Grand Mulets hut. Visibility was low, it was strangely warm, and the snow was heavy like concrete. I only wore thermal underwear on my upper body with fully open ventilation in my pants – and was still sweating like crazy. One upside of the warm weather is that the snow would hopefully settle and stabilize faster. In a few places, the snow had slid, and we put the skis on the backpack. At a steep traverse just before a ridge, I slipped in a mix of slush, gravel, and mud and began to slide down the slope. Luckily, I stopped the fall quickly and made it safely over the ridge. A wake-up call and reminder to stay 100% focused. Mont Blanc may be accessible to amateurs like me, but it’s not to be taken lightly! The previous two days had brought heavy snowfall at higher altitudes. The big unknown: will there be too much snow for a summit attempt? On the way up, we pass several small avalanches from the day before.

After about 3.5 hours, we reached La Junction (approx. 2700 meters above sea level) – a spot I was excited to see. It’s where the Taconnaz and Bossons glaciers meet and can be a tricky place to cross, as crevasses may be exposed and safe passage hard to find. Due to the large amounts of snowfall in April, it was surprisingly easy to cross – it took less than five minutes. The final hour of climbing toward the Grand Mulets hut is steeper than earlier sections and required some effort to earn the break at the hut.

The Grand Mulets hut is legendary in Mont Blanc’s history, and it’s amazing to finally arrive. It’s perched spectacularly on a rocky ridge (photo 8). Skis are left at the base of the ridge overnight. To reach the hut, you climb the final stretch – a fun little detail (photo 9). The hut is packed with other hopeful skimountaineering enthusiasts, all banking on a weather window the next day. The common room smells delightfully of ski gear and touring skins drying for the early start the next day.

From the Grand Mulets hut, there are two possible summit routes: the easier but riskier one, or the harder and safer one. The first goes via La Petite Plateau and allows skinning from the hut without technical climbing. The risk is spending hours in the dark (you start at night) under massive seracs, where huge ice blocks can fall off. Two people died there the season before. The second route climbs over the seracs via the north ridge of Dôme du Goûter. It’s technically harder – steeper and a mix of ice and snow. The skis go on the backpack, and climbing is required. When the guide and I had coffee in Zermatt a few days earlier, he laid out both options. Choosing the north ridge was easy after hearing the risks. I was also motivated by the extra climbing challenge and unwilling to take the increased risk on La Petite Plateau. With a clear plan and a favorable weather forecast I tried to sleep in the dormitory (earplugs and a podcast were essential).

The summit day started at 01:00 am with no news of impending bad weather (yes!). After a quick breakfast and toilet, we climbed down to the skis and began ski touring across the glacier toward the north ridge of Dôme du Goûter. When the slope got too steep and icy for skinning we started to climb with the skis on the backpack. It’s an exciting climb and a nice rhythm develops in the dark; follow the rope, unscrew ice screws, wait for the guide's signal, then climb up and collect screws for the next section. Slowly, the sun rose, and I got a better sense of the slope’s steepness (photo 10). 

At the top of the north ridge of Dôme du Goûter, daylight revealed the entire north face of Mont Blanc. It’s stunning, and the weather was perfect! But the north face looked massive, and I began to doubt whether I could ski down (photo 11). Thankfully, there are many hours before that becomes relevant.

Six and a half hours after leaving the Grand Mulets hut, we reached Refuge Vallot (4362 meters above sea level) for a well-earned break. From there it’s about one more hour of ski touring, followed by the final stretch to the summit with crampons, ice axe, and skis on the backpack. It was physically demanding, but highly motivating – if I push through, I’ll reach the summit, I thought. The final ridge section is especially beautiful (photo 12), but also tough due to accumulated fatigue and altitude.

And then it happens! After 9 hours and 15 minutes from the Grand Mulets hut, the summit of Mont Blanc (4810 meters above sea level)! Absolutely incredible (photo 13).

After a break to enjoy the view, I switched from climbing mode to telemark skiing. The moment I’ve visualized countless times during training arrives: I’ve reached the summit of Mont Blanc and click into my telemark bindings. My legs feel fresher than they did on Monte Rosa. Then the descent begins along the eastern ridge. The snow was wind-packed and firm, but it’s surreal to live the dream of telemark skiing here. About 300 vertical meters down, we turn left beneath the north face of Mont Blanc (photo 11: red = ascent with skins/crampons, green = descent). The snow changes completely, and the next 1000 vertical meters are pure powder – dreamland! (photo 14). Telemark-surfing powder between giant seracs and crevasses under blue skies on Mont Blanc is spectacular. I pinch myself during breaks. My legs are strong at this point, and I set a personal altitude record for telemark powder turns. Acclimatization worked. Still, I ski cautiously – getting injured here would be problematic.

At La Petite Plateau (yes, you ski here on the descent regardless, since it’s daylight and exposure time under the seracs is short), my legs are tired. It’s a scary place – skiing between van-sized ice blocks that have fallen from the above-hanging seracs (hard to believe some people ascend this way). Then we pass the Grand Mulets hut again and continue down to the Aiguille du Midi mid-station, where the lift takes us to Chamonix. The final stretch is a mix of relief and euphoria as everything worked out. But also combined with the need for intense focus with tired legs and mind in heavy snow. In my experience this final part of a descent is often the hardest (and riskiest for injury), as the snow is heavy, branches and rocks poke through, and you’re physically and mentally drained.

In the end it all worked out, and the trip officially ends with a well-earned high-five and farewell hug from the guide in Chamonix.