Charles Dubouloz, mountaineering star, retires at 36 with a farewell tour inspired by Walter Bonatti

Charles Dubouloz is only 36 years old, but the Frenchman is an icon of world mountaineering, a specialist in major solo winter challenges, a young man who grew up devouring mountaineering literature, and who knows all too well that premature death awaits the best climbers.

Last Sunday, December 14, he reached the summit of Mont Blanc 18 pounds lighter after spending six days and five nights on the Grand Pilier d’Angle, the first feat of a trilogy that will be his farewell, his tribute. He is leaving behind committed alpinism for good, just as the incomparable Walter Bonatti did. Hailed as the “God of Mountaineering,” Bonatti retired from the mountains in 1965 after opening a superb solo winter route on the north face of the Matterhorn. Dubouloz’s current journey is his own personal farewell tour: he is leaving behind a way of life and a form of expression.

On the phone, he doesn’t sound tired, but he explains that he needs to regain his strength before traveling to the Écrins to climb a route on the Pic sans Nom, and then on to the Pyrenees, to the Vignemale massif, to complete his farewell trilogy. To connect all these locations, he will cycle on a gravel bike, pulling a cart with 55 pounds of gear, while friends in a car will carry whatever he cannot manage while cycling.

To climb the Grand Pilier d’Angle, Dubouloz chose his most demanding route, named Divina Providencia in 1984 by its first ascensionists, Patrick Gabarrou and François Marsigny. The name refers to a serious accident that nearly killed them when several of the anchors they were hanging from failed, leaving both climbers suspended by a single anchor that miraculously held their weight. Gabarrou, a devout believer, chose the route’s name. It later became one of the Mont Blanc massif’s hardest jewels, and in the 1990s saw its first solo ascents by Jean-Christophe Lafaille (in summer) and Alain Ghersen (in winter).

“On this final trip, I’m looking for the toughest, wildest possible terrain, spending a lot of time alone on the summits,” says Dubouloz. He left home on December 7, cycled 105 miles in pouring rain to Chamonix, where he strapped on his ski mountaineering gear, climbed up the white valley, reached the Torino refuge, and from there arrived at the foot of the Grand Pilier d’Angle, where, he says, “apprehension turned my stomach.” Even before starting, he was already “tired,” he adds.

For six days he climbed the face, hauling 77 pounds of gear, including clothing, food, gas, a sleeping bag, and other climbing equipment.

“The hardest part wasn’t the ascent itself, but the waiting, the endless nights with almost 16 hours of darkness, freezing cold: in these conditions you don’t get any rest, and the higher you climb, the wetter your down sleeping bag gets and the colder you get. When I woke up, I was more tired than the day before,” he confides.

He carried a journal, filling it in whenever his shivering didn’t stop him. The route along the pillar included challenging rock sections, which he tackled using climbing shoes. “Thanks to the eastern orientation that gave me precious hours in the sunshine,” he recalls. The end of the route connects to the Peuterey ridge, which leads to the summit of Mont Blanc. Back in Chamonix, he cycled all the way home to Annecy.

“To do these kinds of trips, I’ve been inspired by figures like Patrick Berhault and Lionel Daudet because I’m at a point in my life where I need to spend more time in the mountains, not just quickly going up and down, but trying to understand what I’m looking for up there. I’m in a phase where I think a lot about what I do. Getting around by bike isn’t just an external inspiration: I love cycling. I even competed as a kid, and in spring and summer I ride like crazy; I love that fluidity,” he confesses.

In the winter of 2022, Dubouloz completed the first solo ascent of the Rolling Stones route on the north face of the Grandes Jorasses, a feat that earned him a place among the legends. Paradoxically, his passion began to fade after that.

“My motivation isn’t what it used to be; it’s waning,” he explains. “When I stand at the base of the route, I feel an inner fire that drives me to take on the challenge, but everything surrounding the world of mountaineering is starting to tire me. That’s why this trilogy will be my last committed expedition. Afterward, I’ll remain connected to the mountains, but in a more serene way. I’m 36 now, and I feel I’m not young anymore, that I’ve already done so much in the mountains, that I’ve enjoyed it immensely, that it’s been incredible, and that it’s time to make way for those who come after me. I told myself I’d retire at 35, like Bonatti, but to do this trilogy, I needed to find my moment, which has arrived now… I need to find a more sensible approach to mountaineering,” he explains, his voice momentarily dropping to almost a whisper.

He continues: “I’m also terrified of pushing myself too hard and dying like so many of my friends. I hope the deaths of so many great climbers will teach me when to stop, so I don’t push my luck. We all know what the history of mountaineering teaches us: there are hardly any great climbers who have lived to old age. I think you have to know how to climb hard and be content with what you’ve achieved, know when to step aside. But it’s not easy to find the moment to stop; it’s practically impossible. If all those who have died had known that this activity was going to kill them, they would have quit right before. I’ve reached a point where I’m satisfied with what I’ve done. And I also feel that I was starting to repeat myself, because in the end, all climbs are similar: demanding, you’re scared, you descend, and you start again… so why not do something else? What Bonatti did was magnificently beautiful… I wish I had the strength to emulate him; it would be magnificent.”

His honesty is striking, yet reassuring. In 2021, Dubouloz and Benjamin Védrines opened a new route on the Chamlang and surprised the climbing community by naming it In the Shadow of Lies, a critique aimed at all climbers who lie or exaggerate their ascents. “Today I think it was a bit stupid to name the route that, but in the world of mountaineering you have to be honest, transparent,” he says. “In athletics, the stopwatch doesn’t lie, but in the mountains there’s no one to check if you’re telling the truth or making up a story.”

Dubouloz doesn’t yet know when he will finish his winter trilogy, but he allows himself to anticipate the moment and project his feelings: “I know I’m going to feel relief, but also sadness and a certain nostalgia for what I’m leaving behind.”

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