A Wild Glacier Climb and Descent in the Heart of the Écrins
Once upon a time, winter in the Alps could persist well into May and even June. Unfortunately, by the time April 2025 rolled around, it distinctly felt like the season was waning into oblivion. Valleys turned green, resorts turned brown, lifts began closing, and end-of-season parties were had.
Fortunately for us, the Écrins Massif’s location, not quite north and not quite south, not quite west and not quite east, managed to squeeze enough moisture out of the clouds to offer us a reasonable touring season. Conditions weren’t great, but with a two-meter base, you could at least get out there and explore.
That’s why we decided to hit one of the dream lines, the Col Claire. We had seen several recent reports on skitour.fr, and it looked like there might be some good snow in the shadowy recesses of the Lautaret and Armande glaciers.
Reaching the Col Claire
The Col Claire is located between Grenoble and Briançon, in the Parc National des Écrins. The starting point is a hameux called Pied du Col, technically part of the village of Villar d’Arêne. The road to the parking lot turns right off the D1091 (the main route from Grenoble) just after Villar and about 10 km before the Col du Lautaret.
We started out on April 8th at 5:45 a.m., in the dark, from Pied du Col. It’s incredible how cold air from the glaciers sinks into this valley during the night. The temperature in Villar d’Arêne was -1℃, which dropped to -6℃ at the parking lot, about 2 km away and at the same elevation. The mission began on foot (in fact, it would be on foot for most of the journey, but we didn’t know that yet) due to the lack of snow in the valley.
We made quick work of the frozen trail, our headlamps bobbing in the dark. Everybody was cold because we hadn’t expected to encounter such cold air down here. After a couple of kilometers, it comes time to cross the Romanche River into the valley of the Torrent de l’Homme, which drains the snowpack and glaciers from La Meije (3,983 m), Le Pave (3,831 m), Pic Gaspard (3,882), and Pointe Piaget (3,534 m), among other high points. These peaks form a giant, north-facing, high alpine basin, one of the most glaciated parts of the Écrins.
The bridge crossing the Romanche washed out in the 2024 floods; it’s a game of stepping stones to cross. The snow began immediately after, but the snow was too icy and the terrain too steep to ski, so we continued on foot. It was a great chance to practice our French technique: splaying our feet so the bottom connected with the slope, as opposed to front pointing.
Gaining a few hundred meters of altitude, we began to break through the frozen crust, especially me, the group’s heaviest individual. Sinking to my waist somehow dislodged my poor helmet from its cocoon on the back of my pack. It proceeded to bounce down the icy slope, then, miraculously, paused on a rock ledge. Just when it seemed that the fall had been arrested, the last of the momentum gradually tilted the rounded object past its tipping point, and my brain’s bodyguard continued on its merry way down the mountain, until it passed out of sight. I made note of the approximate location. It would be a helmet-less adventure, but we all agreed that it would be awesome to look like a guide for the day with just a headband and sunglasses.
Otherwise, we ascended to the moraine and remnant ice of the lower Amrandes Glacier in good time. It was much warmer up here, and the sun was beginning to hit the east-facing moraine. The rotten pile of rock might as well have represented the wrath of the melted glacier, as it hurled small and not-so-small pebbles in our direction. We quickly booted up a shallow couloir to a perch just before the seracs of the Glacier du Lautaret.
Under the Seracs: To Traverse, or Not to Traverse?
It was quite a sight to behold, standing beneath all these seracs. All around us were the debris of various avalanches and ice falls. You could see crumbled blocks of ice littering the glacier above. We’d have to traverse under the seracs for a few minutes before heading up the mountain in relative safety.
It was a tricky moment. Our Fearless Leaders, Messieurs Jack and Evert, vowed to go onward, but myself and the twins (Anna and Ella) were paralyzed by indecision. Wanting to keep things moving, we decided to go for it—the traverse was extremely short and the actual risk of serac fall was minuscule. The article’s first photo shows this traverse.
The entire journey so far had been on a refreeze crust, but as we ascended onto the glacier, the crust became even worse. It was unfortunate, and a bit unexpected, because the trip reports on skitour.fr from just the day before had looked like soft snow. We hadn’t put our ski crampons on, and the journey up the face was a slippery one. I focused all my energy on engaging the core.
After 200 meters, the route follows another shallow couloir onto the Glacier Superior du Lautaret. This broad, open face is normally ideal for skinning, if a bit steep. We could see the old skin track embedded below a layer of windblown snow. However, at this point, the snow conditions had become too mixed for proper skinning. That required us to continue bootpacking until the top of the Col Claire.
It was only 500 meters (1,650 ft) of elevation, but it took an eternity. The snow was deep, and we had to set a track. Fortunately, we were able to place one Evert Holma out in front to break trail.
It was also a bit sugary and wind-loaded in places, which is never ideal. Although I suspect this face is often like that, as it’s just so cold and shadowy, much more so than any other aspects at this elevation in the Écrins. There were almost no signs of slab avalanches anywhere, and we were no longer exposed to seracs. Still, even doing a couple of hundred meters an hour was challenging in these conditions.
To Rappel, or Not to Rappel?
For prospective Col Claire adventurers, you’ll want to consider whether to rappel or not. Rappelling is the safer choice, as the traverse across the ridge to the Col is extremely exposed and requires good stability.
To rappel, trend left at exactly 3,200 meters, and you’ll see an obvious col below a small, steep couloir that continues up the mountain. This is the standard route, and it finishes with a fun 250-meter bootpack up the steep face to the Col. I’m not certain how long the rappel is, but I know that two 60-meter ropes will cover it, and that one 60-meter rope is too short.
The other option is to continue up the mountain above the ski descent. Here, you get into some wild terrain that makes this tour feel like real mountaineering. If you take this route, it’s by far the crux of the mission. You’ll traverse across the hanging face, about 20 meters above a 150-meter cliff that drops down to the Glacier d’Armande.
Fortunately, we had re-discovered the tracks of past parties, and we could see that many people had already passed this way in recent days. That gave us plenty of confidence in the snow. You have to be confident, because an avalanche—or any kind of fall—would be fatal here. We passed through this exposure one by one, then climbed a final pitch, reaching one last traverse (still exposed), until we finished atop the Col Claire. It’s a genuinely classic ascent that can compete with the best in the Alps. You can see the Col Claire from the Col du Lautaret, and I don’t often see tracks in it; now I understand why. The skiing is beautiful and not the easiest, but it’s the ascent that makes this route one of the most thrilling I’ve ever done.
Skiing the Col Claire
There’s nothing better than getting to the top, and that’s especially true with the Col Claire. Unfortunately, despite the day’s general warmth (it was a warm spring day in the valleys), the wind coming off the glacier was quite cold, and we needed to drop in quickly. Otherwise, it’s a nice perch to hang for a while, with plenty of space and extraordinary views.
The first pitch from the top is the money pitch. It’s a sustained 200 meters at a tasty 50°, perfect for jump turns but not overly scary. Not that there is often ice on the skier’s right side; it’s best to stick left or middle. At the bottom of this pitch is a bergschrund that only dropped about half a meter, but which could be bigger or smaller, depending on the snowpack. The snow was chalky but with nice grip. It's not powder, but it's decent enough for steep skiing.
After the ‘schrund, the route finding can be a bit trickier. There’s quite a bit of zig-zagging around seracs, but everything went easily once you find the way. Having 50-meter-tall ice cliffs towering above you is intimidating, so we moved fast. While it’s always exciting to have first tracks, it was a relief to have the faint squiggles of previous skiers to weave the way through the crevasses, as well as Jack, who led the descent.
Between pinch points, the skiing is a series of pleasantly steep, dish-shaped glacier descents. In powder, or at least soft winter snow, it would surely be among my top ski descents, and I’ve had many. As it was, we were a bit late to the chase, and conditions were variable. Certainly not terrible, but nothing to write home about.
Generally, the route trends skier’s right toward a wide exit couloir. It’s hard to miss, but if you do, you’d better have a wing to navigate the 200-meter cliff. After this section, we were now facing the crumbling moraine that we passed on the way up. Often, you can expect beautiful spring corn on this section, which is the remains of the lower Glacier d’Armande. Unfortunately, the day was just cold enough that, even down here at 2,400 meters, the snow hadn’t quite unlocked.
The lower glacial remnant has become hollowed out like Swiss cheese, exposing some impressive ice caves. After the requisite traverse and photo session through the ice cave at 2,300 meters, we got some acceptable spring skiing to 1,700 meters. The lower terrain down to the Romanche River is actually quite fun and worthwhile on its own.
I dipped off and found my helmet lying in the snow, seemingly no worse for wear, although my girlfriend vehemently disagrees with me (and is probably right). Alas, another piece of gear to buy!
It was a 30-minute hike from the river crossing to the parking lot, where it almost felt like a summer afternoon. I was surprised we didn’t enjoy more spring conditions up there, but that’s how it goes. Despite the forgettable snow conditions, the rock-solid crew and the exposed, exotic glacier passages made this an unforgettable mission.
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