|
Just got back from Arolla in Switzerland having spent 2 weeks out there on the Plas-y-Brenin Alpine climbing course. It wasn't cheap at £650 plus accomodation plus getting to Swizerland but when you consider that between the twelve of us, we had 3 fully qualified guides for the first 5 days and 6 fully qualified guides for the next 5 days (1:4 and 1:2 respectively) it works out quite cheap as a guide will normally cost you £150 per day plus expenses. The guides we had were no mugs either (not that any of them are) Louise Thomas, Steve Long and Twid Turner had just got back from a new route up Lowes Gulley in Borneo and they are attempting to climb the biggest wall on all seven continents. As far as rock climbing goes, Twid's awesome, he on sights at E7! The course actually started a few weeks ago with a weekend in North Wales, however, once in Switzerland, the first day was spent on a glacier revising cramponing techniques and ice climbing. The second day was a bit wet and miserable and that was spent practicing moving together on a rock route, it was a PD+, a bit like a grade 2 scramble but, wait for it… bolted. On the third day we trudged up the glacier to the Vignettes hut despite what the weather forecast said. Fortunately the old adage of "if you're not in the hut you can't do the route" held true as contrary to the weather guess the next day was bright and clear and we set off up the Pigne d Arolla. It was a bit like wackey races at the start as various teams pulled out to over-take only to find that breaking trail in knee deep fresh snow is a lot lot harder than following tracks. Anyway, we got to the top despite me getting snow blindness (stronger shades were purchased the next day) and decended the glacier on the other side to the Dix hut. Overnight there, then in the murk the next day off up La Luette. I led, but with high level cloud and the sun directly behind forward vision was nil. You could see features to the side and behind, but in front, just whiteness and absolutely no sense of scale. On top of the glacier the weather worsened and the final stretch along the iced up ridge was just like Scotland. We then went on to a 1:2 ratio and the routes all varied depending upon what people wanted to achieve. Again, the weather was crap and we went round to the next valley to the Moiry hut. Our selected route was "not recommended" as it would involve a huge flog up the glacier breaking trail through fresh snow all the way. Instead we did Pigne de la Le, supposedly a short PD route but it was like full on Scotish grade II in the day's conditions. From the top we carried on along the Bouquetins ridge but didn't make much headway in the conditions so we stopped at a huge wind scoop to practice glacier rescue. This had all worked well before but even with a 6:1 pully arrangement and various other little tricks my 10 stones would not haul 14½ stones and a rucksack, a little muscle power from the guide was required here. Anyway, we packed up and headed off down to the Moiry hut, now in sun shine as the weather was clearing quickly. At long last we now had both good weather and a decent forecast (sun shine all the way) so some serious route planning got done. There seemed to be an unwritten course objective "everyone's going to go up to 4000 m", so it was off to Saas Fee and Saas Grund (2 hour drive away) where all the teams split up and set off on their own objectives. A minor gripe here about Switzerland, you can't get pizza until the evening, even in pizza restraunts (no Pizza Huts about though). So, after lunch in Saas Fee, dig deep in the old pockets (can't remember how much) for the uplift on the cable car, leaving only a half hour walk on the flat to the Brittannia hut. Nice hut this one, duvets!!! Not that you get much time to appreciate them as we were fully geared up and setting off at 4:05 the next morning. The Allalinhorn via the SE ridge (AD) was the objective but once we'd got down onto the glacier it was time to turn off the head torches as the moonlight was so bright. Off we plodded on crisp frozen snow with me leading, up and across the glacier, climb up onto the ridge then stop for a quick break on the ridge top. Grab a Mars bar, slurp of water, lids on and ready to go again. I asked Steve what my pace had been like "A bit quick but OK." Then came Steve's fatal words "It would be nice to get to the rock step first." Andy led, but despite us having already pulled out half an hour's lead on the other parties, he set off at a fearsome pace "Bloody hell" I thought. (Actually I lie, but it was something similar.) I don't honestly know how long we were going at that pace but Andy had to stop for a rest. "Thank God for that" says Steve, "That’s the fastest I've ever been at this height. If we'd kept that up we'd beat the guide book time by an hour." Off we go again, this time at a still quick but more sensible pace. The going got steeper, flat footing on 40º neve with the odd patch of sqeaky wind slab for good measure. At this time the first rays of sun light started to appear picking out the surrounding summits. The colours were just amazing, pinks then golds, and turquoises in the sky, the shades changing as you watched. On up we went, passing some raised footsteps in the process, this happens on wind slab when the slab blows away to leave the footsteps behind, only raised on top of the neve, weird. Eventually it started to get too bright so we stopped at a saddle for another Mars bar and to put on sun block and shades. I led off and quite quickly came to the rock step, a 30 m high wall at 4000 m with a rather narrow corniced snow ridge immediately below it. There are three iron posts set into the rock for belays but we moved together and I just cliped into the posts to use them as runners. With all the snow about the climb actually seemed quite easy although it was a bit balancey as you couldn't get an axe placement. Anyway, got on to the top, bring Steve up with a decidedly dodgy boot and axe belay, then I keep a tight rope on him whilst he brings Andy up with a body belay. From then on it was just an easy plod to the summit. Looked at the watch and it was only 7:25, we'd taken over half an hour off the guide book time (4-4½ hours) and none of the other parties were anywhere in sight. Out with the camera, take a few pictures before the batteries froze up then off down for breakfast. We saw some ski tracks going down so I asked Steve if this was the point when the guide pulled out three pairs of collapsable skis from his pack. "I wish" was the reply. We were down to the revolving restraunt at the top of the ski lifts in less than an hour and we see two of the other groups just setting out on their climb. They wanted to do an ice climb but waited until the uplifts opened. Anyway, the ice wasn't very steep but we decided it would be unsporting if we soloed past them and climbed their route as well. It was still early so we messed about setting up ice belays for a bit then bimbled off towards the restraunt. Then came the Japanese tourists. Seeing three roughty toughty mountaineers is a photo opportunity not to be missed "Picture, picture", "one more, one more". Give one an ice axe to hold and "Oooooh" whilst jumping up and down. What a laugh, absolutely brilliant. Anyway, into the restraunt, get teas and cakes (they don't do a full English fry up) then feet up and watch the others slog up the hill. Eventually, we fork out a tenner for the underground train down to the top of the gondolas, down and drive over to Saas Grund. "We've got an option" says Steve, "Pay for one uplift then an hour's uphill walk to the hut, or pay for two uplifts then half an hour downhill to the hut." Why walk when you can ride? Off to the Weissmies hut where we get into the bad books of the guardian because some of the others had cancelled 'cos they fancied a bivvie out. Her favourite word was "Nein". Next day we planned on the Jegigrat traverse with a D, V- climb up onto an AD III+ ridge traverse. Steve had second thoughts about this as we only had the one rope and he'd like to be on a second rope at the side just in case. That was his excuse anyway, he was probably right but he was dead keen to try out a brand new Via Ferrata that had just been fixed up. So, an hour and a quarter late we set off ("Can we have breakfast at six please?", "Nien, seven", which turned out to be quarter past seven) . We raced off to the start and got to there in half an hour, the leaflet in the hut said 1½ hours but that must have been for wrinkleys with zimmer frames, we weren't that quick, then off up it cowboy style (larks foot a sling into your harness with a single krab on the other end, clip it on the cables, just don't fall a long way). I'd never done a Via Ferrata before and didn't quite know what to expect, an absolute hoot is the answer. Clip in to the cables that go all the way up, climb/scramble up, pull on the cable if you want (wear leather gloves), climb up on the ladders and steps on the really steep bits. Different but great fun. Lost 20 minutes stuck behind another party, then dash across the ridge to the start of the real climbing, the traverse. Although we had rock shoes with us we elected to go in big boots which was fine on that ground (III+ equates to about severe) anything harder and I think I'd have preferred rock shoes. We set off short roping the route, only on the steeper bits did we use a (direct) belay: sling over a spike, krab on, Italian hitch, go, its literally that quick. Progress did seem painfully slow though, mainly due to the number of short abseils required on all the decents, furtunately, iron anchors were in place for all the abs. I was leading this one bit and shouted back to Andy "Do you ever want to be a father?", "What?" "You'll find out in a minute". The knife edge ridge was only a quarter inch wide at the top, either shuffle over it with one foot either side, or hands on the top, both feet over one side and go along sideways. There weren't any footholds so the inelegant shuffle along the top technique had to be used. Two parties overtook us on the route, they were moving very fast and looked really confident but their speed came from the one off both off mentality of moving togther without bothering to put any runners in. As it was, we just about managed to keep up with the guide book time but still we ran out of time and so it was off down the alternative decent route, 5 abseils, followed by a dash down a scree slope then try my hardest to break both legs as I fall in the boulder field and smash into the rock in front. My entire right leg from the knee down was bruised but I didn't feel that at all, it was the three holes in my left knee cap that really hurt. "Are you all right, do you want to stop for a minute?" says Andy. "No, if I stop it'll just seize up, keep going" as I hobble down. Well, that was the end of the course but since the last day was a Wednesday and I didn't have to be in work until Monday, four of us stayed on to climb on our little ownsomes. We'd had some advice from the guides about routes: Dent Blanche we were strongly advised was not a good choice for a first season in the Alps, its rather serious, more so than the Matterhorn; Mont Collon at the head of the valley looked good but according to Steve "Don't bother, it’s a crumbling heap of shit"; the Aiguille de la Tsa, a huge gendarme on top of the ridge overlooking Arolla looked very inviting but the ridge up to it (AD III+, 5-6 hours) although widely acknowledged as the best rock route for miles around still had a lot of snow on it from the previous week so was not a viable proposition, and the walk around to the other side was not on since that would mean a bivvy (yes, I know we're soft) as the Bertol hut was shut. A route from the Moiry hut was chosen and planned but then the hut was fully booked so that was out too. Plan whatever it was we were up to then was go up to the Dix hut and do Mont Blanc de Cheillon, and after a bit of an argument go via the W-N-W flank and SW ridge (PD) rather than the traverse (AD). So, off up on the slog up to the hut in bright sun shine. 5:30 the next morning we're setting out, Andy wasn't feeling well so he stayed at the hut. Slog up the glacier, turn left at the col, pass two huge gendarmes on the left, turn left again and start climbing the culloir leading up to the ridge. Off with crampons, on with lids, well two of us did, then upwards. The following uterance was then heard from Chris "I'm not too happy about going up this without a lid." Well the culloir was full of loose stones and there was plenty coming down from the two Cambridge lads ahead. "OK, we'll just go up to the slabs and see if it gets better" I say. It didn't, so down we all have to go. Halfway down the first pitch Chris says "I've left my ice axe at the top." Groan.. Retrieve axe, then down we go. I keep looking to the left at the tracks going up the snow slope with the avalanche debris at the bottom. Mark reads my mind. "No." Down the glacier in stoney silence we go. Throw ice axes across the morraine in disgust, stomp off to the hut. "What ****ing idiot forgets his helmet in the Alps?" I say to Mark.. "He didn't forget it, I asked him when he was packing if he was taking it, he said he wouldn't need it!". If I'ed known that on the hill he might well have been wearing an ice axe on his head. The moral of this sad little saga is that if you're out in the Alps with me next summer, take a lid. That left us with one day left which in effect meant that the only option was cragging in the valley but the weather guessers said tomorrow afternoon would be thunder-storms. Phone Hoverspeed, rebook and back home on Saturday we went. Got to admit Hoverspeed were good, the first cheap crossing was at 9 pm and they said if we wanted to go on an earlier one then we'd have to pay extra. That said the trip back was two hours faster than going out (no rain all through France and Switzerland) so we got to Calais early. Decided to book in anyway and the bloke said "The next available is 7 o'clock, I've put you on it" and he didn't charge us. Brilliant. Anyway, all in all I had an excellent time. Learnt a lot in the process but still need to practice moving together on VDiff type terrain. Contrary to popular opinion Switzerland isn't that expensive (a strong pound helps). Food in the village was the same price as here, again, beer and eating out were also the same price. Huts were expensive, for bed, dinner, breakfast and hot water for drinks expect to pay SF70 (£30) per night. Expensive but then all the food and fuel is helicoptered in. Don't bother with a reciprocal rights card, you can blag it with a BMC card and it only gives you 50% off accomodation (SF18) not food. You can of course bring your own food up (no cooking facilities in Swiss huts though) and save on cost but then you've got to lug it up there. The campsite in Arolla was also reasonable SF5 per person + SF2 per tent + SF1.5 per car plus SF2 for a shower, about £4.50 per night (which you cut down on by upping tent and leaving it in the car when you go up to the huts). Andy, my climbing partner was the best laugh out there. Absolute scream. His essential rucksack contents for a day in the hills include: English-French dictionary, pen with a light in the tip so you can write in the dark, microphone so you can record 10 seconds of your thoughts, mouth organ, whoopee cushion. It’s a good job the local guides have a sense of humour, one came into the hut looking for sunglasses that one of the kids in his group had lost, his own sunglasses were on his head and he asked us if anyone had seen a pair of sunglasses lying around. "Sur la tete" came the response in a Geordie accent, to hoots of laughter. |