In reply to jon:
I was guided by him in late 80's. I can remember him effortlessly striding up some big old hills, puffing away on filterless French fags. The rest of us fit youth, struggling to keep up and requesting frequent breaks.
I also remember a tale he told about cossing a glacier one day and finding a human arm. So he stuck it in his rucksack and carried on with the route. He handed it in to to police a few days later, when down in the valley.
We were coming down from the Midi in the cable car, packed with tourists, all chattering excitedly about the exposure. He made a big show of pointing out a particular rock. "No, not that one, the big one next to it, near the stream. That's where the cable car crashed when the cable snapped. They've done a great job of clearing it up." There was suddenly far less chattering
RIP