Introduction
I've been skiing since I was 22 and a ski instructor since 1989 but after years of resort skiing and teaching, I developed a yearning for a purer, more adventurous form of the sport. To that end, myself and a bunch of similarly minded mates – most of them ex ski instructors who are now settled back in the UK, started to use the big resorts as access points for some fairly interesting back country adventures. This would take the form of using the lifts to get high, followed by some footwork and hard graft to get even higher and into some of the less accessible places. There, fresh tracks and steep pitches could always be found leading to remote valleys and villages. We often used the expertise of friend and guide Serge Gas from Tignes and would travel all over the Tarantaise region with him using buses, taxis and his car to link skiable domains together.
Over the years as we all honed our technique in every type of snow from perfect champagne powder to the worst windblown breakable crust, our fitness also improved which allowed us to ski steeper and travel further. We tended to use downhill equipment – fat skis to aid deep snow flotation together with regular bindings and boots, as any additional climbing we did would be tramping or kicking steps. A couple of the guys had used ski touring kit in the past but weren't impressed with the performance of it for descending. How things have changed over the last five years or so...
Four years ago, I bought some BCA tour converters to change a downhill binding into a lifting tour binding together with a second hand pair of skins. The idea was that after a days regular skiing, I could go out at night with a headtorch and top up the fitness levels. This I did to the alarm of the pisteurs of Courchevel who performed the night time grooming of the slopes and who I would have to evade by hiding as they came close.
The Haute Route
Prior to this course I'd set a target of completing the Chamonix Haute Route which is probably the most famous of the high mountain ski tours. Because of lack of time and suitable interested partners I decided to join a Jagged Globe trip run by Rick Marchant, an IFMGA (International Federation of Mountain Guides Association) guide who years ago worked for Outside in Hathersage.
Preparation
I'd quizzed my guide friend Serge about the Haute Route who'd said that completion was quite weather dependant and that fitness more than great skiing technique was of the essence. So from Christmas onwards and through the remainder of the winter I became a regular sight running around the Pennine hills near Marsden, lugging a big rucksack laden with ropes and climbing ironmongery to add weight! Weekly sessions at Manchester Velodrome built loads of fitness as did turbo training and time on a rowing machine. The winter before I'd vegged out with eating and drinking featuring as top activities but this year I could honestly say I'd never been fitter.
In March, three weeks before the Haute Route route trip I took our two shop lads up to Cairngorm for a couple of days skiing. After getting them sorted out I skinned up to the top of Cairngorm in appalling visibility. I was glad I'd taken our shop eTrex GPS up as I used it to ski safely down. The following day I skinned back up in clear blue conditions and had a great run down the back of the mountain followed by another good climb. Only problem was, my new Garmont boots had blistered my left heel big style - would it heal up in time...? (This was my own fault as I'd undone them and left them loose on the longest climb!)
Meeting the others
I drove out to Chamonix with some trepidation. How demanding was the Haute Route going to be? Had I trained enough? Did I have the right kit for the job?
Our missing team member Mark showed up late that night, and like me he was on his first real tour with similar doubts about his ability. We got on well from day one – Mark was a tough, straight talking Northern bloke and as a fireman, has seen and survived many a scrape. A couple of years earlier he'd taken an accidental header down a couloir in La Grave, which as well as breaking some bones had shaken his confidence. This trip would hopefully be a recuperative experience for him.
I hit the sack looking forward to the following day...
Day 1 Friday 21st April
After some fun free skiing in the afternoon's slushed up bumps we concentrated on practising searches with our Avalanche Transceivers. You can't do enough practising with these – little did I know that in just over a week, after our return from Zermatt I'd be using mine in anger...
Back at the hotel, Rick bid us goodbye and advised us to get a good nights kip after getting everything ready for the mornings departure on the Haute Route proper.
Day 2 Saturday 22nd April
Unable to sleep properly, I was buzzing and raring to go early. Rick's wife Isobel, herself a well regarded and qualified guide, ran us down to Argentiere. After buying our ticket for the Grand Montets lift, Mark and I reflected on the fact that for the first time we were carrying a full rucksack of around the 10 to 11 kilos mark. This included extra food as our first nights stay was in a Bivouac hut which had no provisions. Try as we might, Mark and I never got our packs anywhere near as light or compact as Brian and Alison's and we never did discover their secret!
We spilled out of the cablecar onto the top of the Grand Montets in bright sunshine. What a fabulous start! After the obligatory group photos and buckling on of climbing harnesses, we clicked into our bindings and started sliding down towards the awesome Argentiere glacier. Rattling down frozen crud, chopped up by tens of previous Haute Route aspirants, soon had the blood pumping and then before we'd really thought about it we were coming to a halt, way out in the middle of the glacier. Time for Rick to remind us that from now till Zermatt we were travelling in a glacial environment where all is not necessarily as it seems beneath the feet and skis are best left on when resting...
This seven hundred and odd metre climb is a good fitness barometer for the coming trip. Paced properly it'll probably only take 2 hours or so but you need to reach the top still with plenty of 'go' in your legs.
We trudged steadily up with the only major signs of suffering coming from Erling. By his own admission he wasn't as fit or as light as he would've liked and through the week he would usually be the tail end charlie. It highlighted to me that preparation is vital if you're going to enjoy this trip – it's no fun constantly bringing up the rear and feeling pressured.
Rick decided that we'd head for a higher notch in the rock where the far side snow pitch was less likely to be cut up and where we wouldn't encounter other people waiting their turn on the rope. I went up to the main Col just for a look and found about 20 people of various nationalities all queuing to be lowered down the first section of 55 degree slope. In normal circumstances I'd say it'd be eminently skiable but because a lot of people side slip down it on a rope instead of rappelling, a deep 'trench' develops down the fall line which makes turning impossible.
Once down I think we all were on a bit of a high, but after a short ski down the skins were back on again and sometime after that a tiring boot up led us to a spectacular gap in some rocks where we rested before stashing our skins again. This skins off, skins on routine several times in a day was new to me and took some getting used to – the trick is to preserve the glue at all costs by not allowing it to dry out...
Now we were getting pretty tired but after a great little downhill pitch making fresh tracks, we were on our way up for the last time that day to our own little bivvy hut, the Bivouac de l'Envers des DorĂ©es instead of the more widely used Trient Hut. The advantage would be the probable lack of other tourers, the disadvantage I could feel hurting my shoulders – we were carrying our food! When we arrived there were two French climbers stretched out like lizards in the warm afternoon sun. They didn't seem in the least bit put out that we had taken away their sole occupancy of this delightful hut and welcomed us warmly.
Hats off to Rick who from the contents of our rucksacks cooked a fantastic and tasty carbo packed meal – we even had a small ration of wine and so it was a tired but content gang that crashed out that night at the end of a superb day in the mountains...
Day 3 Sunday 23rd April
Another day dawned bright and after a quick breakfast we cleared the hut with skins on and made a relatively quick climb that had still asleep lungs gasping for mercy and my blister starting to make itself felt. After reaching the limit of the grip of the skins we shouldered the skis and booted on up where I thanked the grippy soles and solid construction of my Garmont Adrenaline boots. A few people had questioned the wisdom and weight of my kit but so far I was enjoying the security and performance of boots, bindings and skis and hadn't felt I was suffering from any extra load.
Day 4 Monday 24th April
An early start saw us outside the hut and fixing skins for what looked like a long slog to a Col in the distance. Because we could see our route in the clear visibility we all made our own pace and I soon had my MP3 player playing a mix of music which inspired me to charge up the climb in hot pursuit of the American lads who'd set off before us. I reeled them all in bar one who was waiting for me on the col. He was a amiable Californian guy called Kristian who was living and working in Alaska and had done an impressive amount of climbing and skiing which had obviously given him an outstanding level of fitness. We chatted long enough for him to tell me he wanted to ski Mont Blanc – I said the two of us should maybe fit it onto the end our trip as I was keen too and he agreed to swap mobile numbers at the next hut.
After a welcome but only short bit of downhill it was trogging time again for a couple of hours in bright sunshine. One thing you need on this trip is a daft hat with a broad brim or cap with neck coverage and PLENTY of suncream, preferably waterproof so it doesn't sweat off! Something else really useful is a white baselayer that will reflect sunlight as it can get phenomenally hot when you're slogging upwards.
The group convened in the evening for a meal and over a couple of drinks we looked at the plans for the next day. The weather forecast was fairly pants now for a couple of days but on the up side it might put some fresh snow down. Then, after persuading Erling that he needed to give up one of the three bunks he'd spread himself out on, I went to bed tired but content.
Day 5 Tuesday 25th April
Day 6 Wednesday 26th April
We were climbing up towards the Col de la Serpentine, and through an area of immense crevasses and seracs caused by an ice fall. The terrain was steepening up enough to call a halt in freezing conditions to don ski crampons. I was pleased to have the semi permanently mounted Fritschi units that can be flicked into position with a ski pole – others were fiddling around with frozen fingers to mount their older type harscheisen. The only disadvantage I found with these is that the teeth aren't quite long enough for a positive grip when on the top step of the bindings. Because the older, separate units don't have to retract towards the boot, the teeth can be much longer and they bite better.
Up in front of us we met the other Brits group with the two girls who were roping up for the steepest part of the ascent. We nipped past unroped but took things very steadily as a fall would have possibly had consequences. The gradient was probably the steepest thing we'd skinned up since the bottom of the Co du Chardonnet on day one but this was harder because of deep and heavy snow deposits. Each kick turn sapped the energy and the altitude could definitely be felt. I really recommend practise at kick turning – a good one takes a surprising amount of technique but will save a lot of effort.
Now the visibility was clearing briefly, just in time for us to top out on the Pigne Arolla, the highest summit of our route. At 3796 metres, it's an easy summit to reach on skis in terms of technicality but needs caution and good navigation to descend.
We took the obligatory summit photos and watched the peak opposite vanish into the cloud as the weather once again took a turn for the worse. We decided to bail off the summit quickly to avoid the myriad of other tourers who were now converging from all directions.
Skins off and rapidly stuffed inside jackets, boots flicked to 'ski' and now we were about to reap the reward of several hours hard slog. The snow was distinctly challenging and not for the first time I was thankful for being first and foremost a skier rather than a mountaineer! As Rick and I used the float of our skis to avoid breaking the areas of windblown crust, I could hear colloquial variations of the English language coming from behind as skis caught and bodies fell. Things soon improved and everyone's enjoyment increased as we skied lower, but then it was back into the clag and time to start some serious navigating. An altimeter watch, compass and map are Rick's only tools – no GPS for him and after some intricate route finding we left the clag again to see an amazing sight; the famous Vignettes Hut. This phenomenal refuge sticks out of the rock over a colossal and dizzying drop and is the last hut that most Haute Routers stay in prior to reaching Zermatt.
It hadn't been a particularly long day, but there'd been some fair climbing done so we were happy to chill out and rest - tomorrow was going to be a big effort... We organised ourselves for an early start by readying all our kit. The hut was rammed full of all nationalities and those failing to be first in the boot room in the morning would find chaos and lose valuable time.
There was a war waged all night between Erling and some Germans which was quite amusing. The Germans wanted the window open of the dorm but as Erling was sleeping under it and getting covered in blown snow he naturally kept closing it! As soon as he'd gone to sleep, the Germans would creep over and open it until the snow woke him up again and so the rigmarole went on and on...
Also having problems that night were a couple of French lads whose navigation had let them down and who couldn't find the hut in the worsening visibility. Despite being only a few hundred metres from the hut, they couldn't see it and spent a rough night in a snow hole!
Climbing, climbing and more climbing, – that's largely my memory of a long but highly satisfying morning. Three cols dominate the route towards Zermatt, the Col de L'Eveque, Col du Mont Brule and Col de Valpelline. There were others on the route and navigation wasn't hard so we fanned out and I settled down to catch a posse of Germans ahead, helped by my improving fitness and some inspirational rock music on the MP3 player!
Soon, we came to a steep pitch some 250-300 feet high. This was booted up with skis on packs and lungs bursting from the cold, dry air. At the top, the visibility eased and blue sky could be seen for the first time in a while, revealing also some impressive glacial terrain which we glided effortlessly down before fixing skins for the next climb. The glue on my skins was drying and hardening with the cold – this is where I was glad I'd brought enough duck tape to bodge them onto the skis! Plod, plod, plod - you need to get a rhythm you're happy with and settle down. Use good technique and avoid lifting the skis, imagine pushing a matchbox along the floor with your toes to improve your style.
My kit was holding up well and despite agonising over using fairly heavy Adrenaline boots, the advantage of having precision skiing for the descents was well worth the extra effort of lugging them around. Blisters now had reached the stage where they were so painful, they occupied a portion of my thoughts virtually all the time! Make sure you pay attention to your feet – imagine how many footsteps you'll make on the Haute Route, with every one rubbing away at already inflammed skin...
On the last big climb of that long day, we wound our way up to the Col de Valpelline. Up ahead we glimpsed our American friends who had stayed the last night in another hut, the Vignettes being fully booked. Despite all being very adept skiers, they were making slow progress as a couple of their guys by their own admission weren't terribly fit or used to mountaineering. I was now looking foward to standing on top of this last big col and started racing, buoyed up by the thought of a hotel bed and a bath at the end of the day. At the top, I was pleased to meet Kristian again and we discussed climbing and skiing Mont Blanc the following week. He was obviously by far the fittest and most experienced of his team and a great choice of ropemate for a trip much more technical and extreme in temperature than this one. While we waited for our teammates to appear , we put a plan together to meet in Chamonix in a couple of days time while our level of acclimatisation would still be good.
Now we were on the last leg of our journey, part skiing and part shuffling down the Stockji Glacier. Up above us to the right we could see the flanks of the Matterhorn vanishing upwards into the clag and made up of rotten, yellowish rock. Clothing was coming off as we got lower and every zip that could be opened for a bit of airflow was utilised. I was really pleased with the clothing system I was using – a mix of North Face and Patagonia base, mid and outer layers.
Suddenly, we came out of the forest and into civilisation with a couple of restaurants – this was Furi above Zermatt and virtually the end of the line! An incredibly welcome beer and some food revived our team from the fatigue of what had been a long and punishing day and we shook hands and congratulated each other. The Haute Route was over and all of us had been challenged in ways only us as individuals will fully realise.
Would I do it again? Well, the Haute Route has many different faces depending on the variation taken, the time of year and the weather. So yes, I wouldn't rule it out.
Day 8 Friday 28th April
Massive thanks are due to Mark, Brian, Alison and Erling for great and entertaining company. And to Rick must go the most gratitude for managing that most difficult of blends – a highly professional mountain guide and an excellent companion.
Postscript:
Kristian and I did indeed attempt to ski Mont Blanc the following week, making use of the altitude acclimatisation we'd had. A gap in marginal weather was spotted which we went for and after overnighting in the Cosmiques Hut near the Aiguille Midi we set off in the dark at about 1.30 am, quickly climbing first up Mont Blanc du Tacul and then on to the North Face of Mont Maudit. At about 6 am we were front pointing steep neve, roped but moving together, when a wind deposited layer of snow in a pocket above us avalanched, causing us a fairly terrifying and violent cartwheeling fall of over 500 feet to the plateau below.
Amazingly, we were relatively unhurt and virtually unburied with mainly cuts and bruises. However, because of ingesting snow in the avalanche and suffering a whiplashed neck, I was helicoptered down to Chamonix with some other guys caught lower down the face who were injured. In the helicopter I found I couldn't see properly and was diagnosed with temporary corneal damage which although worrying, healed within days.
D
I'd like to offer grateful thanks to the Chamonix Gendarmerie for the amazing helicopter rescue they performed and for the support they provide year round to all mountaineers in jeopardy.
Massive gratitude to Rick and Isobel for picking me up from hospital and the fantastic hospitality they showed both myself and Kris at their home. Also cracking to see old Saddleworth mate Andy Perkins who's now enjoying a successful career as a Chamonix guide. And to Kristian, thanks for your help and excellent company – let's try it again sometime soon...