MPC Press International

Soon after our arrival in Barcelona, Ella joined a local futbol club, Maddock Sports.  The team plays year-round.  Soccer in Spain, pretty intense, right?  Not exactly…

Ella’s team consisted of about 10 girls including the Nelson sisters (Mia and Ella) from Menlo Park, and Barcelona locals Lisa, Maria, Paula, Alexandra, Pili and Alexia.  The practice fields are about a mile from our apartment, making life not too difficult, even without a car.  Coaching was in Spanish, but what better way to learn a new language.

My first surprise was the size of the team.  Games are 5 on 5, including the goalie.  Is there not enough interest in girls futbol for larger teams on larger fields?  Last year, Ella’s U10 team in San Francisco played 8 on 8.

My second surprise was that Ella’s teammates ranged in age from 10 (Ella) to 15.  The Barcelona girls league does not have enough interest to field more narrow age range teams.

My third surprise (although fairly quickly I was no longer amazed) was that parents would often drop off their kids at the games, if they bothered to bring their kids at all.  Simply, Spanish parents do not seem to care about girls futbol.

What is wrong here?  It actually did not take much time in Spain to learn about the general difference between boys and girls sports.  Simply, girls are not encouraged.  Parents are ambivalent about whether their girls take the field for any athletic endeavor; futbol is probably the most popular sport for girls, not that you would ever know it.  Yes, I am making a massive generalization, and I have heard that interest among girls has increased.  But I have not been told of any Title IX-type force that will quickly shift the winds.

Of course, boys futbol is everywhere in Barcelona and Spain, with widespread participation.  Family weekends often revolve around boys games, maybe not that different from how kids’ sports, be it soccer, baseball, basketball, football, hockey, are treated in the U.S. today.

On a related note, it is widely known that the Spanish men’s futbol team sits at the top of the world rankings, and has for some time.  The U.S. men are currently in the 14th spot.  The U.S. women are the best team in the world.  What surprised me, although not after Ella’s experience, is that the Spanish women are ranked 15.  It is quite obvious to all that the multitude of U.S. men’s sports negatively impacts the country’s competitiveness in futbol, and the lack thereof for U.S. women does the opposite.  For Spain and its women, the country just doesn’t care.

Now you will probably not be shocked to see a picture of Ella on the “field”; yes, leave the cleats at home.

…and here was the available team at the same game; fortunately we had the minimum of 5 players…

Sadly, Ella’s team lost players and churned through 3 different coaches in 4 months.  In addition, the club, Maddock Sports, is having financial difficulties.  So, it is on to new endeavors for Ella, but she looks forward to playing again upon our return to San Francisco in the Fall.

Tags: futbol, goalie, Maddock Sports, soccer, Spain, sports

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.

 

Tags: alps, avalanche, Cabane Bertol, Cabane des Dix, Cabane des Vignettes, Cabane Prafleuri; rösti, Chamonix, Champex, Haute Route, Matterhorn, randonee, touring, Verbier, Zermatt

On Friday, I leave for a 7-day trek across the famous Haute Route; described by Compagnie des Guides de Chamonix, the guide company for my trip (I thank Eric G. for the recommendation) as “a dream for all touring skiers, this tour is a serious adventure, requiring a good experience of multi-day ski touring trips and good off-piste skiing skills.”

To address my guide’s requirements, I have a total of zero multi-day ski tours under my belt, and as for my off-piste skiing skills, I once ducked under the ropes to ski down from Squaw Valley to Alpine Meadows.  Truthfully, I have been off-piste with guides a couple of times, but I had to obfuscate the truth in my Haute Route application when it came to describing my touring experience.

My training has been a different story.  I have scared myself into getting into shape, with runs 3-4 days per week, walks up the hill behind Barcelona with a heavy backpack, stair climbs, jump rope, squats, and planks.  The workouts started out as simply runs and a lot of stairs, but they progressed, as advice flowed in from more experienced trekkers.  Brother Doug suggested squats, my friend J.P. insisted on jump roping, Peter pointed to heavy backpack usage, Lenny encouraged the planking, and Eric gave me confidence that I would have no problem functioning on touring skis.  I think I am ready.

In fact, while my weight has been static for 20-25 years, a period when I never had any regular fitness routine, I have lost 10-15 pounds during the past few months; and, this does not count the temporary shrinkage experienced after bad food/altitude sickness in the Atlas Mountains of Morocco.

Unfortunately, I needed some everyday pants recently (I didn’t bring many to Barcelona), so the new thinner Will probably wasted some money.  To make matters worse, I am trying to be cool and Spanish with a slightly tighter fitting pant; good luck with that when I stop working out….I will likely be leaving these purchases behind when we return to the states this summer.

Two or three mornings a week, I run along the Carretera de las Aguas, a gorgeous path that peers down at Barcelona and the Mediterranean.

In the middle of these runs along Carretera de las Aguas, there is a stairway heading upward, with 437 steps, called the Escaleras de la Font du Mont.  Impossible (for me) to run, I walk up and down a few times.

 

Tags: Carretera de las Aguas, Escaleras de la Font du Mont, Haute Route, plank, run, squat, training

Last week was “Semana Blanca” at school (White Week, meaning many head for the mountains), and with no classes, we ventured to Switzerland, really a dream of mine to ski with the family in the Alps.

The flight to Zurich was just over an hour, but trains are the real form of travel in Switzerland.  A short escalator ride down to a lower floor in the airport, and we were at the train station, prepared for the 2.5 hour ride to Klosters.  Unfortunately, we had to switch trains twice, and the first change, at the main station in downtown Zurich, was marked improperly (it left from a different track than normal), so we were stuck for an hour.  No Wi-Fi, so we actually had to talk to each other.

Still, we arrived in Klosters in the late afternoon, giving us ample time to rent equipment at Bardill Sports, a 5-10 minute walk from our lovely Silvretta Park Hotel.  The store is perfectly situated next door to the Gotschna cable car; with ski storage at the shop, life was made very easy as we didn’t need to lug our equipment through town every day.

And, as you can see, the Klosters Platz train station is across the street from the cable car station, Gotschnabahn.  This makes travel back and forth to the different ski areas easy.  Trains are really a way of life for skiers here.

Klosters is a beautiful village from almost any angle.  This was the view from our hotel room.

The skiing was very good, with snow falling on all but a couple of days.  These were not blustery storms, as the snow dropped straight to the ground and with temperatures not too far below zero (celsius).  Skiing in Klosters/Davos is generally above the tree line, and this did prevent good visibility at times.  Still, the powder was wonderful and it is difficult not to smile while skiing the looooonnnnnggggg runs.

Taking the Gotschna cable car put us on Parsenn, the mountain that spans from Klosters to Davos.  In fact, on the first day, we covered much of the territory in between these two towns, and skied down to Davos in the afternoon.  To rise back up the mountain from Davos, we boarded a unique train (Parsennbahn), which heads up very steep tracks.

The photo doesn’t do this train justice, but here are Maggie and Ella on the Parsennbahn train, which rises over 1,100 meters vertical.

On Day 2, we headed to the Klosters Platz station and took the train to Davos Platz, about 30 minutes, to access the Jakobshorn mountain; confusing, but this is a different Davos mountain than the one that is directly connected to Klosters.  The Davos/Klosters pass includes what are really 5 different ski areas.  Near the train station exit, we boarded the Jakobshornbahn, a cable car rising about 1,000 vertical meters.  Here is Ella on the Jakobshornbahn, with the town of Davos in the background.

Visibility was poor but this meant few skiers; importantly, the powder was amazing.  Evelyn did have a scary tumble, leading to a sore neck, but she recovered enough to test the nice soft snow the next day.

The below photo is at the highest point of the Davos/Klosters ski area, Weissfluhgipfel, on a sunny afternoon, one of just two we experienced during our week.  Later, on our final day on the hill, we had a great lunch at the cozy little restaurant near where we were standing.  Unfortunately, there was no view as the sky was completely clouded over; the link shows you what could have been…

From the point we are standing above to the town of Kublis is more than 12 kilometers in length, one of the longest runs in Europe.  After skiing to Kublis, we walked a few blocks to the train station and then headed back to Klosters.

Here is Ella on the run down, where we passed through multiple villages and farms, crossed roads, and were almost completely alone on the long trail.

We also skied to the town of Serneus one day, and from here boarded a bus back to Klosters.  Here we are trudging through Serneus, some of us waiting as long as possible to remove our (rented) skis.

Our friends from San Francisco, the Headricks, joined us for our last few days; they are living in Madrid.  Gannen, Mariner, and Lauder are relatively close in age to MEM.

Only one of our on-mountain lunches was cafeteria style.  The Europeans seem to enjoy their meals on the slopes, and we did the same, while testing out the local offerings of bratwurst and other sausages, as well as rösti, a traditional local dish consisting of grated potatoes and a variety of toppings, including bacon, cheese, spinach, egg, and onions.

On our last ski day, we hired a guide, Hans; you want your Swiss ski guide to be named Hans, right?  A native of Klosters, Hans wakes every morning at 4 a.m. to milk the cows on the family farm, and then takes guests on ski and snowshoe treks. We met up with Hans at Bardill Sports, and were outfitted with backpacks containing shovels, probes, and airbags; we also carried beepers.

After a warm-up run, here we are climbing to our off-piste destination.

The visibility weakened after the morning of exploring with Hans, so we stayed on the trails in the afternoon.  After the long ski down to Klosters, Chris, Laure, and the Headrick children posed with us and Hans.

Before our train departed Saturday, we had time for a toboggan run, which begins at the midway station of the Gotschna cable car.

On the toboggan run, looking down at Klosters…

As for our Klosters dinners, Italian food seems to please all, so we enjoyed two meals at Fellini and one at Alberto.  Both spots were good, with Fellini the better of the two, and convenient just a block from our hotel.  We also tested the fondue, as one should in Switzerland, with a delicious but overpriced restaurant next door to the Silvretta at the Rustico Hotel.  We had two dinners at our hotel; much of the dining in Klosters is at hotels and the fare was good at our own.  Our final dinner was at Bargis Gasthaus, and it would certainly be a recommendation for anyone heading to Klosters.

Our flight from Zurich back to Barcelona didn’t leave until 9 p.m. on Saturday, so we jumped off the Klosters-Zurich Airport train in downtown Zurich, put our bags in lockers, and toured the city after a snack with the Headricks at their hotel.

This one is for Barbar…

 

Tags: Bargis Gasthaus, Davos, Fellini, Gotschna cable car, Jakobshorn, Klosters, Kublis, Parsenn, Parsennbahn, Serneus, Silvretta Park Hotel

Turó Parc is a park that we live across the street from, and we go to very often. It is a big park with lots to do. There is a café, a playground, a grassy area, fountains, trees to climb, a big pond, and plenty more.

This is the view of the park from our deck.

When you go to the park and see the small outdoor café, you’d infer that it only provides small, basic dishes. But after you take a look at the menu, you’ll see that there are many more options than that, including chicken nuggets. (They’re my favorite!) Or if you want to be fancy like my parents, you can settle down with some wine.

This is a picture I took of the café in the park. Can you find my mom? Also, our apartment is in the background.

The playground is a fenced area near the front of the park where you’ll see most of the kids. There is an area for the little kids, and an area for the older ones. Sometimes we just play in the open space. I’m pretty sure that Max thinks that the best parts of the playground are the ping pong tables. They don’t provide paddles and balls, but we were lucky to find the equipment supplied in our apartment.

This is a picture of the playground. The fenced area is for the smaller kids.

We like to play baseball and other sports on the grass, but most of the time it is filled up with dogs and is muddy. When we first got here, there was a fence around the grass, and you weren’t allowed to go inside it; but now it’s opened, so we are free to go in. Most of the time I prefer going somewhere else to play sports because my shoes have gotten very dirty by playing baseball there, but it is really nice when it’s dry.

Here are some of my friends with Max and Maggie.

I love to climb trees there, especially a certain tree that used to have a bunch of roly-polies inside its holes. Near the front of the park, there are many small trees that are quite easy to climb, and great hiding spots when playing hide-and-seek. One time I hid there while playing hide-and-seek with my friends, and they never found me! (Probably because it’s such a big park.)

The pond is next to the playground, and has some fish, and even a few turtles! There used to be about ten giant lily pads that were made up of tons of normal-sized lily pads to look like one huge lily pad!

Here’s another picture I took. The lily pads are gone, but I like the reflection of the trees.

 

 

By Ella

Tags: Barcelona, chicken nuggets, lily pad, Turó Parc