A FIRST VISIT TO THE ALPS

By R. E. Chadwick

1947. It was suggested that a Novice’s first impressions of the Alps might be of interest and use to Members ; of interest to the experienced, who, through the eyes of a tyro, might for an instant or two recapture the sensations of the first impact of the Alps ; and of use to other young members who, if the state of the world permits, hope to make their first Alpine expedition in the near future.

We were a party of four ; two experienced men (Harry and Frank Stembridge) and two novices (Blair and myself). The experienced end of the party had hired a guide, booked accommodation, and made all arrangements with Cook’s, so all the novices had to do was to get on the train at Leeds and be carried by the Stembridge organisation without hitch or discomfort to the Hotel Alpina, Zermatt, where they proved the theory of beginner’s luck by winning the toss and so getting the room with bath attached.

The first day (Friday) was devoted to training ; and what could be more fittingly so described than a ride on the Gornergrat Railway up to Riffelberg ? From there, amid a fairy land of high alp to the Riffelhorn and then via the East rock, ridge to the.summit, while there throbs in my mind a jingle picked up heaven knows where

” Next while contemptuous experts sniffle He scrambles up the Horn of Riff el.” Let it be said to the lasting honour of the Club that we managed to do without the railway on the trip down.

Saturday was given to another training walk a hot slog up the Unterrothorn relieved by a bathe in the Stellisee and two glasses of milk on the return journey. In the evening we came across Chubb who had walked over from Arolla, and also W. M. Roberts who was staying at the Monte Rosa.

On Sunday, food for two days was packed, and very heavy it seemed. At four p.m. we set off with Felix Julen our guide, for the Trift Hotel, with the intention of traversing the Trifthorn to the Mountet hut, and then traversing the Zinal Rothorn on the way back to Zermatt. We had a meal at the Trift in the evening, and the two novices shared a single bed, which whether due to cramp, excitement or indigestion, failed to induce sleep.; it was a relief rather than an effort to get up at 2 a.m. The night was warm and still and for several hours the only sounds were the clatter of ice axes and the heavy breathing of everyone except Julen. We were clear of the moraine soon after first light, and by dawn were approaching the glacier. There the guide held a short con­ference. These conferences reminded us of conferences at Headquarters in action during the war, and before very long we used to refer to Felix Julen, much to his amusement, as the Brigadier. The Brigadier considered that the weather would break and that we should first make sure of the Rothorn. So we changed direction right and at 7 a.m. he relaxed dis­cipline by letting the troops have a hasty second breakfast, the party then having gained the ridge. After a lot of rough boulder scrambling the rocks gave way to an ice or snow arete, for some distance only about one foot broad at the top. The drops on either side were perhaps a little more than just exhilarating to one not yet having confidence in his grip on ice, but soon the rocks of the final pyramid were reached. Here two members of the party, who had been suffering from mountain sickness, turned back with a guide engaged by SaUitt who was making the same expedition, while the Brigadier and three Ramblers completed the final rock climb in about one hour, arriving at the crowded summit at 10.30 a.m. We then returned the way we had come, and on ap­proaching the Trift Hotel at about 4 p.m. were most heartened to see the two sick men, fully recovered, coming to meet us waving a bottle, the contents of which assisted in a swift though somewhat unsteady descent to Zermatt.

Tuesday was dull and overcast, but the Brigadier ordered us up the Rimpfischhorn, and so the afternoon found us plodding up the path to the Fluh Alp Hotel in a light drizzle. The staff failed to call us and it was not till nearly 4 a.m. on Wednesday that we left the hut. The night was clear and warm, and at first light all the great peaks flushed rose red, while white clouds veiled the darkness of the valleys. 7.45 a.m. saw us at second breakfast at the foot of the first rocks, and at 10.o a.m. we panted our way to the summit, to see the peaks of three countries spread out all round us reaching to the extreme distance where snow peaks merged with white cloud. The descent was simple, the rocks being then warmed and the snow softened, and at 2.30 p.m. we were back at the Fluh Alp, and after a short rest, soon down to Zermatt.

Thursday was remarkable in being the only occasion of successful mutiny in a well-disciplined holiday. The Brigadier wanted to push us up the Ober-Gabelhorn, but the troops struck and the furthest we got that day was to the shade of some trees at Winkelmatten.

By Friday afternoon, however, the Brigadier had restored order, and four heavily laden Ramblers trudged non-stop the ten miles or so to the Schonbuhl hut, prepared to try issue with the Dent Blanche. As most of the hut seemed to have the same intention, 2 a.m. Saturday found us in an all-British queue on the path across the moraine. By a piece of brilliant glacier navigation, the Brigadier brought us to the head of the queue, but he had miscalculated our lack of condition, and when we finally reached the main rock climb, the pitches in front were strung with climbers like flies on a fly paper. The top was reached at 9.30 a.m. in perfect conditions, the view being, if anything, more extensive than that from the Rimpfischhorn. The descent occupied longer than had been anticipated owing to the danger of dislodging loose stones on the Wand fluh (one of which from a following party hit Frank Stembridge on the head) and it was not till 4 p.m. that we got back to the hut and tea. Frank and the Brigadier then returned to Zermatt, while two men rested upstairs, and the fourth did his day’s good deed by giving the Brigadier’s supplies of tea to the advance guard of another Yorkshire party ; and indeed it was 8.45 p.m. before four tired men sat down to dinner at Zermatt.

Sunday was first ordained as a day of rest by an earlier and higher Authority than Felix Julen, and it was not till Monday that we got off the train at Randa bound for the Dom Hut, the traverse of the Lenzspitze and Nadelhorn and descent to Saas Fee. Frank had chosen the better part and waved good-bye to us at the station. At 3.15 a.m. on Tuesday, we left the Dom Hut and proceeded at pace to a rocky outcrop, on the Festijoch, whence the route lies up the Dom. Finding a party already having second breakfast there, the Brigadier suggested going a little further before our first halt, and we weakly agreed. With the intervention of an awkward bergs-chrund and a fairly long ice slope (both in shadow and cold as death) it was not till 9 a.m. that we again reached rock on the Lenzjoch and had our meal. We were then on the main ridge, and by 10.45 a.m. we had reached the top of the Lenzspitz;e, via countless obstructive gendarmes.

The descent that followed was on a hard snow arete, not more than a foot or so wide, and was one of the titbits of a very fine day. There followed another shattered ridge, mustering even more gendarmerie than the last, and it was 1.15 p.m. when we reached the summit of the Nadelhorn, whence an easy ridge led us quickly down to a glacier and the Mischabel hut by 3.30 p.m. Tea and a rest followed, and at 5.15 p.m. we left for Saas, arriving an hour and a half later. The first person seen in the village was Chubb who had walked over some days previously, and whose advice we sought as to lodgings for the night.

With difficulty the Brigadier was dissuaded from catching a bus at six on Wednesday morning, and we obtained a reprieve which allowed us till 7.30 a.m. for breakfast. In the afternoon, however, the Brigadier got his own back, by mobilizing the two novices for the Matterhorn, almost as soon as they got back to Zermatt, and by 7 p.m. he and they were entering the Hornli Hut.

Thursday at 3.40 a.m. saw the Brigadier with the two novices in tow leaving the Hornli by lantern light. Candles glimmered in the rocks and the first half hour reminded me more of pot-holing than mountaineering. The early start was, however, justified as by just after 8 a.m. we stood the first party that day on the top of the mountain which, of all others, most captures the imagination. The climbing was not difficult as conditions were good, and fixed ropes helped wherever the rocks were smooth and glazed. At least fifty other people were following us, and the descent was delayed more by human than by natural obstacles. At 1.10 p.m. we were back at the Hut, and left the Brigadier, who had arranged to meet the other two there to make the same ascent with them the following day ; thence down to Zermatt, with a great feeling of satisfaction. We could now walk the Zermatt Valley without the nagging challenge of the Matterhorn obtruding itself at every turn.

On Friday the more experienced party settled their accounts with the Matterhorn also, while the novices ate ice-creams and bought postcards. Then after a farewell dinner for the Brigadier came Saturday and the train back to Leeds, shortages, queues, and office routine.

The following week-end, in pursuance of a long-standing engagement, I climbed on Bowfell Buttress and Dow Crags. Compared with the climbs of the previous fortnight, I found the distances childish, the technical difficulties most alarming, and the country side as charming as ever.

What then are a novice’s general impressions for the benefit of those who have never been there ?

First, last and above all, the need for stringent economy of time. The days are long, even when guided, and it is only by cutting out every minute of wasted time that the average party seems able to accomplish some of the climbs at all. The Brigadier kept us usually on about 25-30 feet of rope only, and nearly always we were moving together. On the English Drill Book method of always moving singly we just would not have finished one single mountain. It is not that he moved quickly but that he never stopped. We were allowed to rest on the average about once every 3-4 hours. Above all, I learnt the equal need of economy of time in things collateral to the climbing itself, e.g. coiling and uncoiling ropes, getting dressed, getting breakfast, changing clothing, and all the other things that delay in however small a degree the accomplishment of one’s main purpose.

We never encountered anything on the standard climbs we did, of much greater technical difficulty than a Lake District ” difficult.” Technically, most of the rock climbing would be classified as ” moderate.” The exposure is of course many times that of any English climb. The traverse of one of the last gendarmes on the Rothorn brings you on good holds over an A,P, drop of at least 2,000 feet, But there is no techni­cal difficulty on rock to anyone used to the Lakes, apart from the need to climb steadily without continually pausing to feel around for holds and considering the next move. For training it is absolutely no use rubbering around Gimmer. The best thing would be fifteen hour days on the heather , with a sack and the nearest British equivalent to an average Alpine Expedition would be the ridge walk in Skye from say Sgurr Nan Eag to Sligachan. For snow and ice work the Ben at Easter gives one only the haziest notion of the real thing, and that is the best these islands can offer.

It is however a characteristic of the Alps that they ask for more than mere physical energy and technical skill. Early starts in the dark, long tiring days, hot sun, glaring glaciers, exposed holds, loose rock, the deathlike cold of an ice slope in shadow, the menace of green gaping crevasses, and lack of sleep in huts, call for mental equilibrium and a true love of the hills, and for these, as the advertisements say, beware of inferior substitutes. The Alps would soon find them out.

Then after economy of time is the need for economy of weight. In the end, I wore or carried the following clothing only boots, socks, two pairs of thin wool pants, thin wool vest, flannel shirt, two pullovers, canvas trousers, canvas ” Anorak,” felt hat and wool gloves. The most I wore at one time was everything except one pullover, which, in spite of the Brigadier’s advice, I counted worth its weight as a reserve. ” Extras” like towels, slippers, etc., must be ruthlessly rejected and care taken that one does not fall into the common error of carrying far too much food. ” Knacke Brot ” (a sort of Ryvita) is lighter than bread, and keeps better ; nothing is more nourishing for its weight than nuts.

The last economy (which is a characteristic imposed, not by the hills, but by the Government) is economy of money. As it was then 1947 we had £50 each on top of travelling cost, and managed easily. It is my belief that a party of four could have a guide and do the climbs we did for £30 a head, apart from travelling. To do so they would have to stop at inferior hotels and cut out luxuries and presents. The guide with gratuity cost us 680 francs, but without the Brigadier we could not have accomplished one quarter of what we did.

We climbed on two ropes, Harry Stembridge leading the second rope, on all climbs except the Matterhorn, which we did in two separate parties on different days. The guide raised no objection, and I believe there was a party who had one guide to three ropes, or even more.

Lastly, what of the hills themselves ? Their size and sweep and contours are beyond description. Shattered ridges soar upwards from heaving seas of snow and ice to fantastic pin­ nacles and peaks. I cannot begin to express one’s first sight of the Weisshorn flushed in the dawn with the last stars still in the sky. Above all, nothing in Britain can convey the immensity of the scale, and even at the end of the fortnight, I was hopelessly out in estimates of time and distance. The Alps are painted on a huge canvas in black and white without compromise or half tones. But at times one has a sneaking longing to see the low mists, the heather, the mosses and the brown peat streams of the North perhaps because we had dry weather only !