Alpine Trilogy

Martyn Wakeman

These are three short accounts from a member who has recently moved to Switzerland.

Practice

I had been living in Switzerland for about three weeks on Good Friday and had been foaming at the mouth to explore some of these white fangs that rose out of the lake from 300m to 2500m in a few kilometres.

It had been snowing recently, and as I spent Good Friday in my apartment unpacking various belongings, the call of the hills increased and I was forced to obey. ”Explore….. Explore…..” I was off to Iceland in June and this seemed an excellent opportunity to try out my new snow shoes. All attempts during February had failed due to the gross lack of snow in Scotland. It is a wonderful experience being able to see such a variety of shape and form rather than the sky line of Nottingham The locals convinced me of the need to let the snow calm down so that I didn’t avalanche myself: so I looked to the Jura instead.

The Jura are a band of forested mountains up to 1700m, stretching across the border between France and Switzerland, which folk here call the pre-alps. Think of the hills 2000m to 3000m without glaciers. The Jura are basically like the Cairngorms covered in trees but without many cliffs. People go cross country skiing there in the winter. It was supposed to be a quick play with the snow shoes, a walk with views of the main alps and some relaxing camping. However, it snowed hard all weekend with nearly a metre gathering on the tops.

The snow shoes proved useful and it would have been impossible without them. They worked but it was hard work with the extra weight on the feet.

I walked between 16 and 20km each day through lovely virgin snow. This was a delight in itself: something which is rarely experienced in Scotland. Trees buckled under heavy snow, all features of the path that I should have been following hidden and the yellow and red triangles on the trees and walls masked from sight. A 1:120,000 map of the canton was all I had, which made for some inspired navigation, but I didn’t stray too far. The first night I dossed in a barn rather than bivving in the snow and by morning all traces of my steps in the snow had vanished. Big banks of the stuff had plied up along the walls of the ski hut, giving a real wintry look. The second night I bivvied lower down in the snow and with all water hidden under the snow my Epigas cylinder took a hammering melting water. With hindsight I would have used the petrol one, as the gas goes sludgy when cold and it takes a long time to melt snow for a meal, breakfast and drink bottle.
The best bit was that all the Swiss stayed at home because they cannot contemplate skiing while heavy snow was falling, especially when it was pouring with rain in the valley. I’m told this was the heaviest Easter snow for years. Good practice for Iceland.

First Attempts

My first chance to escape the lower hills and head for the alps proper in Switzerland came when my mend Steve, from the Lincoln MC, his friend, Harry, and brother, Paul, came out for three weeks climbing around St. Moritz. I took the train and joined up with them to attempt Piz Bernina, the most easterly 4000m peak in the Alps. We set off on Saturday morning, knowing the forecast was a ‘little dubious’ in high hopes of success. We were soon heading across the glacier and then up the Fortezza ridge. The ridge gave a couple of easy scrambling pitches and we were soon up to 3500m. The weather started to clag in, but we decided to continue to our destination, which was a bivvy site near the Marco Rossa hut at 3600m.

In Scotland, you can at least get down into the valley reasonably easily provided you avoid the cliffs. Here the glaciers go down the easier way, between the cliffs, so high ground can be difficult to lose. It was therefore easier to continue to the hut than reverse the ridge by rock climbing. The storm moved in and threw hail at us the size of one’s fingertips, driven by gusts that blew us to the ground. All this while traversing steep snow slopes and avoiding crevasses. After some inspired navigation on a fading track and then a rough compass bearing with constant altitude checks, we made it to the hut as lightening flicked in the clouds around us. Not as bad as the worst of Scotland, but unpleasant, nevertheless. We opted to stay in the hut for the night rather than sleep outside as we had planned. Just after we had arrived, a group of ten Slovakians on one rope appeared out of the mist. They had been following our prints in the snow and were so glad that we had been there to follow. We were hugged and our hands shaken, with names like Elvis and angels being passed our way. They were poorly equipped and inexperienced for that route and were lucky to make it in one piece. They would have had severe fun without us to follow. The fifty Swiss Francs for the night and food were nothing compared to what might have had to be endured as we watching the storm erupt in full flow with a spectacular display of lightening from the windows. We awoke at 4am to assess conditions for a summit bid, but the weather was still bad so we slept until 8am when the weather had improved, but not a lot, so we all agreed to head back down the ridge rather than climbing to the top. Only 400m short, but a long way in bad weather – better to return another day.

Harry had twisted his knee after falling into a crevasse the day before, so he and Paul descended by an easier route to the Italian side. Steve and I retreated via our route of ascent in bad visibility, followed by the Eastern Europeans again. Steve collected Paul and Harry later, and had an amusing time going through Swiss customs with Paul who hadn’t got his passport with him, but a plea of ‘le Alpinist’ seemed to grant immunity.
For the last weekend of their trip, we had agreed to meet in Randa, down the valley from Zermatt. Steve still had to gain his first 4000m summit, so plans were hatched to climb the Dom (4545m). On the Saturday we walked to a high bivi, passing through a rock band where we had to pull up on wire ropes and chains. The bivi site was amazing, with views over the ice fall to the Matterhorn and the Wisshorn etc. Our mountain still loomed 5000 feet above us like some Andean giant. We awoke the next morning at 3:45am to start the climb proper. This involved climbing one glacier, hopping over a rocky ridge and then traversing and climbing a second glacier to where the ground steepened. We then climbed up the north aspect through huge and massive ice scenery.

Crevasses loomed through the slope almost the size of a ship’s hull and ice towers hovering around. We followed a safe(ish) route through these before gaining the summit ridge to the top. The top was a nice snow pyramid with a short rocky ridge leading out to the summit cross – nothing like the name ‘Dom’ might suggest. The view was truly amazing – looking across to the Matterhorn and over the Alpine giants to Chamonix, the Bernese Oberland, and the rest of the Mischabel chain. That was the fun part, but then we had to descend 10,000 feet back to the valley below. Steve then returned to from Zermatt to Lincoln (1000 miles) in a claimed 14 hours – pretty good going.

Alpine Weekend

I have just had an excellent weekends alpine climbing in France. My French teacher gave me the number of an English guy that I should contact because he kept on raving about mountains in the French class – a bit like me. Perhaps I should explain that I have recently moved to Switzerland.
We met up with a third English guy and drove to the Dauphinée massif, which was a four hour trip. They are hardened Alpine peak baggers and have both done nearly half of the 4000m peaks. Dave had a Mercedes which made for a comfy ride.

The Barre des Ecrins is in really nice area, with stunning mountains rising out of largely unspoilt valleys. There are no cable cars, so everyone on the mountain has earned their right to be there by their own sweat.
I was persuaded to cough up some Francs and stay in the hut (3100m) rather than bivvy which is my normal practice. I personally find that the bivvy is an essential part of the process and a large component of the mountain experience. Since I was tagging along with them, I relented for this one occasion.

The hut was perched on a rocky shelf above the glacier and the supply helicopter lands on the roof as it is the only flat spot around. After walking up past the glacier snout we a had quick kip before eating the hut food which was both tasty and voluminous. As the sun turned the snow of summit ridge and tomorrow’s climb pink, we tried to get some sleep. Sleep is an elusive luxury in an alpine hut – the high altitude makes sleep restless anyway, and it is often hot and stuffy in a room full of snorers. We actually managed a reasonably good sleep, before a rude awakening at 3:45am. We won the window open / window closed debate (it remained open) and thankfully we were blessed with no snorers.

The morning was freezing cold with the stars shining brightly around the peaks which were silhouettes in the moon light. We joined about thirty to forty other euro-citizens tromping over the glacier through (but thankfully not in) the crevasse band to the base of the north face of the Barre des Ecrins.

The sun rise was lovely, with ridge after ridge framed as shadows by a brightening sky as we ascended. Both these guys were fit and we fairly stormed up the steep glacier (40°) to the right of the picture, right of the rock step before the snowy dome. Most people ascending this mountain just climb this snowy lump, its 4000m altitude giving the desired appeal. They cannot say they have climbed the mountain. However, this was not the summit, so we were to climb the ridge to the top. It was also the interesting bit – the reward for the glacier slog.

The hanging glacier on the north face had some impressive crevasses that we needed to cross to gain our objective. A quick look down revealed overhangs on both sides, but thankfully the hard frost had stabilised these. To get onto the ridge, a bergschrund needed to be crossed this is a large kind of crevasse where the glacier leaves the permanent snow of the mountain. Another good snow bridge amidst the gleaming icicles lead to a delicate traverse under a vertical ice bulge before gaining the col.

At the col a thin layer of surface snow covered hard blue ice where rain had fallen the previous week and frozen solid. This took great care to cross, even with crampons. Thirteen people were killed on Mont Blanc during the previous weekend trying to ascend the mountain after high altitude rain froze as ice all over the mountain, turning a standard route into something which must have been terrifying. Best to stay in bed when the mountain is like that. Thankfully, we only encountered a few small sections of the stuff.

The ridge was a little more interesting than expected for a PD+ grade route, mainly due to the exposure and cold wind. Some very exposed scrambling and easy climbing ensued, with the snow face seen on the picture opposed by a very shear face to the south, forming a knife-edge ridge. Thankfully, the rock was good and the hand and foot holds bountiful. A few sections were no more than one foot wide, and others were crossed by hanging from the edge which formed a lip a few inches wide and shuffling the feet along small edges. Not difficult at sea level, but requiring meticulous care at 4l00m This was all climbed in crampons because of the ice on the col making it impossible to gain the ridge without them.

We were first on the summit and enjoyed a view over peak after peak for a couple of minutes before the descent. It was both windy and cold, which was to be expected as the summer has ended and the nights are moving in. On the way up we had moved together on the rope, without fixed belays, but placing the rope over small pinnacles to provide a degree of protection in case of a slip. It was easier on the way down with the crampons off but we still made a few running belays from slings to protect the steepest sections. This made for some shivery waits while belaying each other down the rock steps.

It was a relief to regain the col and start the descent, escaping the wind and exposure. After tromping back down the snow slopes to the glacier and then the moraine 1100m below we were able to relax and have some food before walking back to the valley.

All in all an excellent mountain venture with good companions. Probably the last big one of the season for me unless September is exceptionally good.