The Haute Route with Three Pins
by Robert Sault
With Bill working in the Netherlands, Ben thought this is the opportunity to indulge his senses in Europe as well -- and to throw in a Easter ski trip to the Swiss Alps.
The stage was set -- Bill had organised the transport, and carefully translated the Swiss ski reports (from Dutch). Ben had brought the skis (three pin bindings of course), and the extra clothes needed for the -8 deg temperatures that were expected. The trip started on a Friday evening from Bill's home in the Netherlands with a 15 km bike ride to the local train station. Only the last kilometre was with full packs and skis, which was lucky as Ben's bike was too large for him, and so it was hard to control with the load (one motor cyclist was almost impaled). Seven trains and one cable car later, at lunch the next day, Bill and Ben were resting their eyes on the scenery from a cafe terrace (at 2700 m) on the ski slopes of Verbier. Rather than the -8 deg that Bill had warned, it was a warm, sunny 12 deg. Well at least Bill could work out train times, even if he could not translate Dutch weather forecasts.
The first hut stop was Cabane du Mt Fort, a mere 3 km away, and 200 m downhill. Bill and Ben made handsome, dashing sights as they boldly skied off. Or at least they would like to think so. The snow bunnies, however, were more perplexed by these strange men, with their daggy clothes, skinny skis and huge packs. Their technique (or, rather, lack of it) was all the more reason for the downhillers to stop and point, rather than just whizz past.
With somewhat deflated egos, Bill and Ben arrived to find Cabane du Mt Fort infested with more downhillers -- but luckily they disappeared soon after the lifts stopped. Bill and Ben then had a chance to survey their fellow Haute Route travellers -- small packs, large heavy skis. No three pin bindings or telemark skis in sight! All `alpine touring' skis, which are more like downhill than cross-country skis.
The next two days, Bill and Ben made their way to Cabane des Dix (via Prafleuri), leaving the downhill resorts and snow bunnies well behind. The going was good, with typical spring snow below 2900 m (icy in the morning, slushy in the afternoon), and excellent powder higher. The weather was also excellent (apart from a white-out the last few hours to Cabane du Dix), and Bill and Ben found time to knock off Rosablanche (3300m). But still the packs were large (partly with all the clothes for -8 deg weather, and partly with lots of food), and there was more than a little puffing and panting on the climbs. Technique also had to be fine tuned (i.e. learnt). So with plenty of time in hand, Bill and Ben decided to make Cabane des Dix a base for a few days.
Cabane des Dix was rather typical of many of the huts in this area. It was more like a simple hostel. The warden serves up food, wine, beer and water, and provides you with blankets (sleeping bags are not required), and so you can travel rather light. You just have to carry a bit of clothes and a bit of money. Bill and Ben preferred the cheap-skate approach of carrying food as well. They did not, however, envisage the cost of water. They had to buy this from the hut warden (there is certainly no surface water about). In the 3 nights they spent at Cabane des Dix, accommodation cost $140, whereas the water drunk cost another $100. Best not report this to the Water Board, less they realise how essential water is, and so how much they can charge!
Staying at a fully serviced hut has its advantages -- Bill and Ben, being unique in their gear, were shouted beers by drunk Frenchmen who wanted to tell them how shitty that gear was.
The first day trip from the hut was to La Luette (3500 m). With 15 cm of fresh snow overnight, Ben asked Bill ``Do you think we should take crampons with us today?'' ``No -- we will not need them'' was the confident reply. So off they went. Well -- a hundred metres from the top, on the wind blown slopes, Bill spied another skier putting on harscheisen (crampon-like devices for skis). Confidently Bill surged forward. But a few minutes later, meekly he returned from the steep, icy, exposed ground. Well, they got a good enough view from where they where anyway. With plenty of daylight left, they carved a few tight S's (or wide Z's). But Bill was having trouble with his glide. Bill is one of those rare creatures (most others are now extinct) who is a card carrying member of the Flat Earth Society and the Waxed Skis Union -- he still had remnants of klister on his skis from the morning before, which did not suit the fresh powder. Still, by the afternoon, this had been worn off, and the two could enjoy being blown across the expanse of the Glacier du Gietro, in beautiful blue stick conditions.
Bill and Ben took the second day trip more seriously. With crampons, ice axes, rope, harnesses, etc, they set out for Mt Blanc de Cheilon (3900 m -- the true Mt Blanc as Bill called it). They quickly overtook other skiers on the approach there, and started up the steep crevassed climb. With the climb being steep and exposed, they made not attempt to ski it, being quite content to go by foot from the base. Reaching the top was their highest point (and certainly one of the high points) of the trip.
With lighter packs, better fitness, and some technique, it was time to move on. With a white-out the next morning, and doubts about their equipment, Bill and Ben decided to take the low level route. They dropped down 1000 m to the ski village of Arolla. Rather than the mega-lifts and ski bunnies of Verbier, this was a small, low-key ski area. And on the descent, a pair of telemark skis were spotted (cable bindings though). The skier, a Belgian, confessed that they were a rarity there. Still his were much heavier, broader skis and his boots were heavy duty, making Bill and Ben's Asolo Snowfield boots look like baby slippers.
Down in the village, enquiries at the small tourist office suggested that the general store across the road might have a room for the night. Indeed the old digger there had one -- at a very reasonable price, and the water was free!
Descending 1000 m one day can only mean bad news the next -- with a 1300 m ascent. Bill, wary of the evils of klister, walked or cramponed the first 500 m on ice, whereas Ben managed nicely with his skins. Both enjoyed red/purple stick up the last 800 m, in poorish weather, to Refugio des Bouquetins (unguarded -- i.e. free water again!).
Unsure of the seriousness of the last day into Zermatt, Bill and Ben decided on another day trip, to check out the lie of the land. It was certainly excellent land! They climbed to Col de Valpelline (3600 m) in beautiful weather, and started to climb Tete Blanche. However Bill's involvement with a small avalanche and his dislike of climbing slotted country unroped put a premature end to this. Back to the hut! But the day had been a success, not the least because it had taken the pair into Italy, and so another country had been bagged.
If there was ever a day when you could say it pissed down snow, the next day was it! Bill and Ben got as far as Col du Mt Brule on the way back to Col de Valpelline. In a white-out, in pelting snow, they decided that being in the hut was much nicer -- and so they returned.
The day after, the weather was better, but still far from good. With 30 cm of fresh snow, Bill and Ben were in two minds whether to go or not. In addition to avalanche and weather concerns, all that fresh snow was going to make heavy going. But a party of five plowing their way up the other side of the valley decided the matter. Their tracks could be used! Unfortunately Bill's ability to judge departure times without a train schedule was not the best. The pair joined the tracks of the five (Italians) at Col du Mt Brule, promptly climbed past them, and led for the rest of the day! ``As useful as a bull with tits'' was Ben's comment on the five. One cannot feel that, when the Italians saw the dim-witted pair start out, they had exactly the same idea about track-making.
The day turned out to be cold and windy at times, with mixed visibility. Windy enough to blow you over, and cold enough for Bill to have an icicle hanging on his nose (and to complain about his nostrils icing up). At last Bill's -8 deg (and more) was realised! Once over the Col du Valpelline (and back into Switzerland) the weather moderated, and it became possible to have breaks and lunch.
From the col, it was all downhill to Zermatt, 2000 m lower down valley -- and with perfect, though heavy, snow most of the way. In terms of distances, it was still 20 km or so, with slots and icefalls to negotiate. But it was all easy going. Ben by now had learnt some technique, and was carving up the slopes on the way down. Bill still seemed content with his ballistic approach. The hardest bit of the descent was at the end, where it joins the Zermatt ski area -- sharing the slopes with downhillers is no fun.
Bill arrived at the bottom of the run at the outskirts of Zermatt a minute or so before Ben. Wanting to distance himself from the end of the run, he walked a hundred metres along the road to wait and to remove his paraphernalia. Of course the two missed seeing each other, and both spent the next 40 minutes wondering ``Where the bloody hell is that B...''.
Overall, it was an excellent trip, with good snow and weather most of the time. If done again, lighter packs and heavier skis would be the go. Even Bill was heard to wonder about the usefulness of skins and good technique.
Bill and Ben went on to another ski trip in the Alps, aiming to go from Blatten to Jungfraujoch via the Aletsch Glacier. This trip can be simply summarised: ski 1700 m up to a hut (puff, puff) in a white-out; spend three days in the hut, in a blizzard, watching 2 metres of snow fall; ski 1700 m down from the hut, in a blizzard, past (or over!) large quantities of fresh avalanche debris.