The Haute Route
Mar 22nd, 2014 by willmarks
The Haute Route has been on my mind for many years, always on my “bucket list”. More than ever, I am trying to view life, or at least during our year abroad, as a set of experiences, adventures, and accomplishments. Most are with my family. This one is more personal. The 7-day trek on touring (or randonnée) skis takes you from Chamonix, France to Zermatt, Switzerland, ending with a long ski under the north face of the Matterhorn.
And yes, there was an avalanche. More on this later.
When our Barcelona trip became real, I could not stop thinking about the possibility of completing the Haute Route. Then, after booking it last fall, I have been excited, but also fearful that the year would pass, laziness would set in, and I would regret the missed opportunity for years to come.
During the last few months, after realizing that I would be going at it alone (albeit with a guide, but no friends stepped up, so no one counting on my attendance), I started to make excuses: I have history of altitude sickness, but far from serious. I have a bad knee that will need surgery at some point (partially torn medial meniscus, but very useable). I will be gone from the family for 8 days. Am I in shape?
Was I doing this trip for the enjoyment or simply to accomplish a goal? If I were not touring alone, I believe that I could quickly cite the former. But, the closer I was to my flight to Geneva, I thought of this as less of a vacation but instead something I had to prove. Still, I did look forward to the skiing and the scenery, but maybe not with total strangers.
Here we (I) go…It was goodbye to the family this morning. Evelyn and the kids had written wonderful support notes notes and placed them in an envelope with their pictures. I left our apartment building sporting my new bright orange pack and walked two blocks to the Turo Parc cab station.
At the Geneva Airport, I secured a shuttle, squeezed into the center front seat of a packed van and headed to Chamonix. A walk through town and my back was already tired; uh oh, really, a week of this! I rented skis, poles, skins, crampons, and tried on several pairs of boots, praying that my selection would not produce blisters. We will learn soon.
Day 1
From my hotel, La Chaumière, a kilometer out of town, my backpack and I took a short train ride into Chamonix and headed to Pro Sport to retrieve my skis and other equipment. Lifting the skis without gloves, I quickly sliced my thumb with the sharp edges; a double edged sword (or ski)—slight pain, offset by the prospect of my skis being well prepared for turns on ice in these relatively warm conditions. The bleeding stopped after a few minutes; I hope this is my worst injury of the trip.
At 10:00 a.m., I met my guide, Jean-Pierre (42), and fellow skiers at Compagnie des Guides. There was Mike (30) and Crystal (32), a couple from Denver, where he is a paramedic and she works at the University of Colorado. Dennis (53) is a chemistry PhD and works for a French firm in Lyon with a focus on polymers. Claudine (53) is a former concert pianist and now focuses on teaching, when not skiing or rock climbing near her home in Annecy.
After a gear check, we were soon on the cable car at Les Grands Montets. Lunch at the top, then skis on, after which it took several turns to get used to 20-25 pounds on my back, with my pack full of clothes, and now also food, crampons and water.
The adventure really began about 15 minutes after lunch. Following Jean-Pierre down the Rognon glacier, Claudine somehow set off a small avalanche. My best guess is that the snow that followed her was 50 meters wide and came to a stop 100 meters down the hill, fortunately not burying her but only causing a slight tumble. For better or for worse, the snow was halted due to a flat area that could have been a crevasse. Jean-Pierre tossed a rope to her for safety, in case she really was in a crevasse, but all was well.
Soon after, we were in touring mode for the first time, skiing up the Argentière glacier to the Argentière hut (also called a refuge), at 2,771 meters. While we had been warned by passersby during the ascent, it was not until we arrived that the gas leak was confirmed; the hut would be closed for the night. Daylight was running out, and we were forced to head back down to Chamonix, where Compagnie des Guides found us a “gite”, a lodge with several dorm-style rooms, shared bathrooms, and a friendly on-site family owner-operator. Jean-Pierre went home after dropping us in our tight quarters. The five of us shared a room, which I believe will be the norm on this trip, and we did enjoy a tasty meal on the premises prepared by the proprietors.
Day 2
I woke up this morning feeling strong, despite one sore shoulder for some reason. A van arrived and carried us an hour to the Swiss town/resort of Champex. We lightened our packs at Au Club Alpin (our resting place tonight), and proceeded to ski/skin up 1,400 meters, or 4,500+ feet. What a day! This left us with a gorgeous view and a 3:00 p.m. powder run back down to Champex.
While we missed the normal 2nd day of the Haute Route due to yesterday’s gas leak, Jean-Pierre likely felt he should offer us the same grueling challenge that is apparently typical of Day 2. We were rewarded with an outstanding meal at Au Club Alpin of vegetable/potato soup and stroganoff with mushrooms, chicken, and pasta. Conversation continued to be a mix of French and English. It was nice to practice my French after a long period of dormancy. I took advantage of a shower, as we were told that the next 4 nights would be dry.
Day 3
We were back on the normal Haute Route itinerary today, which calls for a drive from Champex to Verbier. After picking up lunch provisions for 4-5 days (meat, cheese, bread, chocolate), we boarded the cable car and a couple of lifts. Following a short descent, we began the true experience of crossing the Alps on skis, as we started climbing away from Verbier to the East, on skis.
Lunch on the hill, my orange pack in the foreground…
Several ups and downs, putting the skins on, taking them off, and we arrived just under Rosablanche, a noteworthy summit I am told. After removing our skis and packs, attaching crampons and roping the team together, we scaled the final 100 meters or so to the 3,336 meter peak. I held in my fear of heights, feeling it much more as I slowly dropped down from the top. Then, after about 700 meters of total elevation gain on the day, we finished with a beautiful descent to the Prafleuri hut (Cabane Prafleuri).
Once again, there was good food (at least partially the result of hunger), ample beer and wine, and dorm-style sleeping quarters. Below is the full bedding for the 5 of us; Jean-Pierre slept in a room with other guides.
Dennis kept me up with his snoring and my earplugs did not help. I tried counting mountain goats, marmots, and foxes and finally took in a bit of shuteye. Staring at the ceiling in frustration, I asked myself again, why am I here, alone with strangers? Is it for the accomplishment or the enjoyment?
Day 4
This morning we were up at 5, not easy after limited sleep, and on the trail by 6, with headlamps ablazing. Jean-Pierre insisted on the early start due to the warm weather, creating afternoon avalanche danger.
After ascending to the Roux pass, we skied down into the Dix valley, and then climbed up to Pas du Chat, eventually arriving at the Dix hut early on a warm day.
Here some members of the Swiss Army were gathered during a mountain training session. I had to ask for a photo with my knife. They were surprised to learn of the branding of this tool, attaching a simple label of “Victorinox”, rather than our “Swiss Army Knife”.
My colleague Dennis dragged me into the kitchen after dinner to help wash dishes and sing French ballads, including a renowned French song, La Maison Bleue, about a house near us in San Francisco. We were rewarded for our chores with a shot of some sort of liqueur.
Of note, during today’s excursion, I finally learned why my shoulder had been sore after the first day. Touring ski poles have grips that extend well below normal grips. When skiing up a hill, assuming you are crossing (rather than going straight up), the hand on the uphill side should grip the pole in a lower position to compensate for the closer proximity of that arm to the ground. During the first day, we had a long climb with no turns; during this period, I gripped my left pole up high, rather than in the more comfortable lower position, as that arm was on the uphill side. It was not until today, when noticing my companions switching their hand positions that I learned of my mistake.
Day 5
Today was really one long climb (850 meters of total elevation gain), followed by what seemed like a short run down to the hut. Again, we left before sunrise on our way up to Pigne d’Arolla (3,796 meters). For the second straight day we were passed by 3 British gentlemen, the eldest at 76 and the others in their early-mid 60’s. Part of this was likely their conditioning versus ours, and part was Jean-Pierre’s safe approach, for one roping us together as we crossed Tsena Refien glacier. When we skied up the very steep section of the “Serpentine”, I was a bit nervous, particularly with the somewhat challenging kick turns. Jean-Pierre finally ordered us to remove our skis (at this point, we also had “ski crampons” attached to our skis, for extra traction), and we fastened our crampons to our boots for the final section.
On our way up the Serpentine…
On top of Pigne d’Arolla (almost 12,500 feet), the view was gorgeous, looking back west toward Mont Blanc and east to our Matterhorn final destination; the Matterhorn is the darkened peak at a slight diagonal up from my right shoulder.
Our treks are typically 6-8 hours and today was no different, arriving by 2:00 p.m. at the Cabane des Vignettes.
I had been looking forward to rösti during the trip and the cooks could not have prepared a more tasty dish at Vignettes. In addition to the British team, we were joined at this cabane by Madrileños, Norwegians, and Swiss, all very friendly. However, the long afternoons at the huts can lead to boredom; I can only spend so much time browsing through the Alp picture books. A novel would have added weight to my pack but in retrospect may have been worth it. Today I played 5 games of solitaire and lost all 5.
The dining area in Vignettes hut…
Day 6
Headlamps on, although with daylight fast approaching, and we were on our way. Until the week began, I really thought that this trip was going to be a combination of alpine and cross-country skiing. But at most we are spending just 5-10% of our hours heading down, I guess somewhat obvious, given the time it takes to scale a pass.
From Cabane des Vignettes, most of the other groups were heading directly to Zermatt. Our tour took us on a slightly less direct route, albeit a difficult one.
Here we needed our crampons on a slippery climb up and across this mountain…
We climbed almost 1,000 meters today, or 3,200 feet, to the Cabane Bertol, impossibly perched on a rocky peak at 3,311 meters. The final climb up to the hut is actually an almost vertical ladder; fortunately for me, we were roped together.
The hexagonal shaped Bertol hut offers spectacular views. Looking out one window to the Southeast, I stare at the Matterhorn. Another opening offers a vista of the imposing Dent Blanche. Take a tour of Bertol with me.
This view is west, to a mountain with which I am not familiar…
From the same window, looking down at our ladder access to the hut; we climbed up from the right…
On the way today, we enjoyed our usual lunch of bread, cheese, salami and other meats. We finished off Dennis’s homemade duck sausage, dried in his cellar and wonderful to taste. At the hut, today’s beer was Feldschlosschen.
As has become our custom, we played “Mexican” tonight, a dice game introduced to us by our more and more amusing guide Jean-Pierre. The only other guests this evening were a Swiss brother and sister, who joined us in the game. With Mike and Crystal asleep, it was Will and the group of native French speakers, a nice final opportunity to practice my foreign language skills. As I have found in Spain, this forced situation is the best way to learn a second language.
Day 7
This morning, I was ready for the Haute Route to end; I was tired, smelly (same clothes for 7 days of sweat), missing the family. The last opportunity to spark our headlamps (watch the team in action) and we were heading downhill, briefly, before the final climb, about 400 meters of elevation gain, up the Tete Blanche belvedere to the pass at 3,710 meters. It was all downhill from here, except for carrying our skis along a road a couple of times, an approximately 10 kilometer descent right under the North face of the Matterhorn (captured on tape).
It is over. I am in Zermatt, eating raclette, my guide and companions already on their way to Chamonix (where they are returning my equipment for me). Later, I will take the train to Geneva, spend the night and then hop on an early flight back to Barcelona.
Now looking through the rearview mirror, I am glad for the accomplishment, the experience, and for my preparation. My only regret is that I went at it “alone”; the trip would be much better with friends and family. Still, I hope to return someday.
Bravo! What an accomplishment. So happy you had this opportunity, the photos are stunning as are the memories you have shared. Maybe next time Lenny will join.
Thank you; would have been fun to have Lenny along.
Je suis tomƄée suur ton bloǥ par chance
: je ոе le regrette point !!
Merci!