Allalinhorn (the easy way)

After our fairly epic 12 hour ascent of the Weismies, we took a rest day. Not surprising really – all four of us were in varying stages of pieces. It meant we had to abandon an ascent of the Lagginhorn – that looked like a full on day. In reality, I felt I might have made it up, but must admit I wasn’t too upset to find myself on a cable car going down the valley from the Weismies Hut. We were back in Saas Almagell by mid morning.

The following day we made our way up to the Britannia Hut via the Felskinn lifts. Dad was still in a bad way and ultimately decided he couldn’t manage it, which was a huge shame. Although, he dodged a bullet because the traverse from the lift to the hut, which was described as nothing more than than 30m odd ascent on a path across, is actually a godawful arrangement of scree and erratics and was the most hideous part of the whole trip. Thank God there was no snow! The potential for slipping off a rock and doing yourself some serious damage was immeasurable. We got to the hut, did a quick recce about and settled in for the night – ready for a 3am start the next day to ascend the Allalinhorn up the tricky route.

The route itself is an ascent of a huge glacier, and then a snow ridge and the summit. The only tricky bit, we were told, was a 30m ‘rock step’ at the top which would scare the shit out of most people. Well, after the Weismies, I figured anything was possible, and wasn’t too perturbed by this news.

But then the weather set in. By 7pm it was grey. By 9pm it was dark and overcast and the beginnings of snow. By 3am when we got up to inspect, we knew immediately that we weren’t going anywhere. Snow had fallen solidly throughout the night and it made the difficult ridge far too dangerous.

After some discussion we figured the best bet was to go back to the lift, get a different lift even further up, and go up the Allalinhorn via the route normale. So that meant crossing that fucking scree slope… now in snow. Great.

Yet another testament to Swiss engineering. The lift up to the foot of the range is… underground. Yes, it literally goes through a mountain. Albeit very expensive, but nonetheless impressive. Out of the lift, straight on to snow and ready to go up.

Half way up and you meet a snow ridge with a impressive view of the Zermatt region – engulfed by the Matterhorn.

The route normale up the Allalinhorn is nothing more than a trudge up, and you just keep going. It’s not technical at all and other than a ridge and some sizeable seracs, it’s fairly easy going. Compared to the ascent and traverse of the Weismies, this was a veritable conveyor belt. We were up and down within 3 hours. In fact, you could do from the valley bottom to top – i.e., 1800m to 4000m and back in an afternoon with some ease – thanks to the lift systems. Perhaps not your stereotypical alpinism, but very accessible.

So that was two 4,000m peaks with a few other smaller things thrown in for good measure. All in all a very enjoyable time… and certainly a nice intro in to alpine stuff for the future.

The Weissmies Traverse

5am start. 40 other people all doing the same. Force yourself out of a warmish bed to a very cold Alpine hut. Bag was packed the evening before so it’s just extra clothes on then downstairs for breakfast. Cereal and milk, bread and jam and some hot but tasteless black water, or coffee, as they were calling it. Sense of trepidation about what lay ahead. On paper it was a 1,300m ascent to 4,020m, but this was via rock ridge and a narrow snow ridge. Surely it couldn’t be too bad?

Some teams already setting off as trying to pull boots on. Fill water bottle with ice cold water from stream outside. Head torch on. Pitch black. Set off. On wrong trail. Cross back to correct trail and hope no-one noticed. Dark is our friend in this matter. Hard going so early on. -5C.. cold. Hard breathing. Head torches light up the valley as we slowly ascend. Seems people are already at the top of the valley and starting on the ridge. We’ve got an hour to go.

Get to the top of the valley. Not too bad. Dad is slow but getting there.

Quick break before moving on. Sun starting to come up. Still cold as hell but the progress keeps you warm. With the early sunshine, look back at what we climbed the day before. Looks big. Small compared to today.

Easy going on nice soft snow. Way ahead is just rock. Or steep snow. Our choice. Worry about that later. Hour later we’re at the top of the first rock ridge with a choice. Cut right and hit a 300m ascent of snow. Easy going but very slow. Or hit the rock. Our guide decides rock. Harder and scarier, but in theory quicker moving. Not convinced. Harness on. Ropes on. Helmet on. Quick drink. Look down. Already very high up. Start on the the rock ridge. About 3100m. Not too bad. Ridge is 20m across. Loose rock. Snow is still solid. Won’t be fun when it melts.

Keep going. How far? Another 900m. Great. Brian and I climbing in 30m sections. He goes. Makes safe. I go. Make safe. He goes. Repetition makes it easier. Not too bad in short steps. Looks OK when looking up – just don’t look left or right. Conditions are brilliant. Sun out, not much wind. Amazing views.

How long have we been going? Will this rock never end? This fucking rope is doing my head in. Look over at the snow field alternative. Groups trudging up it? Having fun? Not sure. Can’t be worse than this. So steep. Keep going. Most sections are straight-forward. Quick bursts followed by breaks. Hold-ups ahead are welcome – time to breathe. Getting high now. Keep going. Rope is always in the way. Do we need it? Adds some safety. Snow melting, getting slippery. Get told – 150m to go to the end of the rock and hit the snow line. Turns out to be just 50m – fantastic. No more rock. Just a very exposed snow ridge! 3,900m now. Just 120 ish to the summit. Wait.

OK. Snow ridge. Crampons on. It’s OK. It might only be 0.5 m across. Lot of people have done it before you. Easy. One foot in front of the other. Rope is even more annoying. Left. Ice axe in. Right. Ice axe in. Look down. DAMN! Left. Ice axe in. Right. Ice axe in. Look ahead. OK. Not far now. 50m. 30m. 20m. Brian wants to stop half way along this ridge for a photo. Are you mad? Thank God there’s no wind. Take the photo. Can we get on now? End of the ridge. Ascend 30m to summit and that’s it!

Summit of the Weismies - 4,029m

Wow. First 4kM peak. Congrats. Hand shakes. Look around. Unbelievable views. Did I enjoy this? Not sure. Job done! NO! Still have to go down. Fuck. Look at this. Seracs and crevasses everywhere. Is that the biggest glacier ever?

Start down. Go steady. Crampons are digging nicely. Feeling happy to have made the summit. Still a lot to do before home safe. Mike and Dad up ahead. I’m leading Brian. Damn, but crevasses. Path goes very close to the edge! WHY? Because big hidden seracs to the other side. Surely overhangs. How is this safe? No idea. Don’t want to know. Don’t ask. Keep going. Wind down. Look back at what we just climbed. Wind rolling in… looks amazing. Wind down and around. Direct route would be through a minefield of crevasses. Happy to go slow. Get passed by IML and two victims being herded up and lightning speed. They’ll pay £500 for a 2 hour trip up to the top and back. No doubt they’ll pass us coming down. Worth it?

Get further. Get passed by IML and his sheep. OK. ‘Surf’ down thick snow field – fun. Climb down main top of glacier. BIG crevasse. Ladder over it. WTF? Apparently I’m going first. Easy. No worries. Down and up, then.. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? 30cm wide ridge with nothing on either side… drops away to crevasses… 300m deep. I’m first. OK. Just go for it. Can’t run in crampons. Just go for it. Get to the other side. Still have 3 other people to get across. Come on – I’ve done it – you can too. Go steady. Brian across. Dad across. Mike across. OK. Made it.

Worst over now… surely? No. Still crossing a glacier. Concentration. Crazy hot now in full midday sun. Can see the ‘bottom’. Keep going. Starting to level off. Getting easier. Confidence up. We’re getting there. We’re done. I wish. Keep going. Finally get to bottom of glacier. Ascent and descent of about 3000m has taken 10 hours. Still got to get to hut. Crampons off. Strip gear off. No water left. Trudge off valley, find next valley with hut. 2 hours to get down. Fucked.

12 hour day finished with a beer. Unforgettable stuff.

Saas Valley 2010

Holidays this year were a week in the Saas Valley in the Swiss Alps in Switzerland. It was my Dad’s idea, and when he suggested I join him and family friend Brian and mountain leader Mike for some climbing 4000m mountains, I thought why not? Bonding time with the old man, how bad could it be? Well, I made the mistake of checking out some video before going and was soon wondering what I’d let myself in for. I then found the blog of a group who had just got back from a trip doing moreorless the same thing as we were planning, I don’t think it put me at ease in the slightest. Don’t get me wrong, I’m probably above average fitness and fear levels, but still, photos of the Weismies traverse certainly had me wondering about my ability. After scavenging as much gear as possible, as well as a shiny pair of new Scarpa Cumbre boots and some Grivel 12 crampons, I thought I was all set. The one thing that had been reiterated to me over and over again – travel light! Whatever’s in your bag, you have to carry, so if you don’t need it, don’t take it. So with literally two pairs of pants, two pairs of socks, some emergency food and zero luxuries (i.e., no iPad) we were set to leave Guernsey for Geneva.

Correction, the day before we were due to leave, Blue Islands called me to let me know that actually they’d made an “administrative error” and that we were now going to Zurich. Administrative error my arse – I eventually uncoverd that they had a group booking they wanted to fulfil (coinciding nicely with England vs Switzerland… in Switzerland) and obviously our flight was the one that got bumped. So our planned trip from Geneva to Saas Almagell went out the window. Fortunately though, Swiss public transport is by far the best I’ve ever used and it really made little odds to us. On arrival in Zurich, the station, in the airport, booked us a train, with four changes, to Saas Almagell. But our ticket showed us exactly where to change, at what time, at what platform, and when our connection would be there. Which was never more than a few minutes. In fact, at one point where we had to change at Saas Grund for a bus in to Saas Almagell, the bus was specifically there waiting for the connection. If ever there was a model of how an integrated travel network should run, the Swiss have built it, a not inconsiderable feat considering the array of geographical/topgraphical challenges they have faced in so doing.

So we arrived in Saas Almagell just a few hours after leaving Guernsey. The view was imposing, mountains all around, ready for a week of climbing.

OK. Well. Yeah.

This is a really quick thing, just to say that I’m not dead. I’ve been back in the real world for the passed year or so, since my travelling adventures.

My travelling ambitions are by no means dead though, and I will be getting back to the wanderlust things soon – I have an adventure in mind for later thi year. Until then, though, this blog will be a little quiet.

Video Interlude – Gone Shootin’ – Pennsylvania

Guns are bad, mmmkay?

Bear Mountain – Salisbury, CT

Stop the presses – I’ve had a revelation. I realised I should make the most of my time away. And whilst holed up in Stamford, not getting very far with actually figuring out anything to do with that time away – length, future plans, places to go and all that kind of malarkey – I found I really wasn’t making the most of anything. Apart from the well stocked off-license right across the street. Ahem.

So rather than sit on my tush the whole time, I got out of the house for a day and took a jaunt up to Bear Mountain in Northwestern Connecticut. I found out about the “mountain” by doing a search for “things to do in Connecticut” and goshdarnit if the very first hit didn’t prescribe to tell me everything there was to do in this wonderful state. Well, after a solid two to three minutes extra research, it turns out that perhaps there wasn’t a great deal to do in this wonderful state*, but the powers that be did seem very proud of their Bear Mountain, boasting the highest peak** in the whole state. So it seemed like a worthy cause, in spite of the 160 mile round trip to get there.

Once there, it was about a 7 mile circular hike with sections along the Appalachian Trail. It was hardly K2 (at 2300ft / 700m it wasn’t even Scafell Pike) but it was a pleasant enough escapade out in to the fresh air, even if I had ever so slightly underestimated how thick the snow was still going to be and foolishly dismissed the idea that clambering up steep slopes, across icy rocks, in the thick snow, whilst holding on to a leash with a psychotic dog at the other end wasn’t sensible.

The interesting thing about the day was the reminder that you don’t necessarily have to travel thousands of miles to see some spectacular sights. Indeed, amazing, beautiful, inspiring and challenging things sit right on our doorstep. For example, the views from parts of the Michoacan State in Mexico were arguably more beautiful than those from the top of Bear Mountain. But I often wonder if people instinctively look to further afield for the inspiration or getaway that they hanker after, convinced that it can’t possibly be right where they already are. I’m guilty of it – I know I am – and I’m pleasantly surprised to find myself appreciating beauty in so many more, different things and places, every day.

I will always encourage anyone and everyone to get out there and see the world. The revelation is that you can see it thousands of miles away in the middle of Africa or a couple of miles up the road.

Both are equally valid, in my book.

* For a 27 year old male. And a dog.
** But NOT the highest land OH NO! Intrigued? The highest land in Connecticut is on the slopes of Mt. Frissell which has its peak in neighbouring Massachusetts. So now you know.
*** The wind did a good job of drowning out my commentary. I believe I say: “This is Matt, at the top of Bear Mountain. 2300 ft… or thereabouts. It’s a little bit chilly.”

Crossroads – Stamford, CT

Crossroads. The title of one of Eric Clapton’s (well, Cream*) greatest tracks and an awful chick-flick starring Britney “bury me in a Y-shaped coffin**” Spears. But both (presumably***) discuss the same topic – being at a juncture in life with various paths ahead of you.

A little perspective: I have left Mexico and returned to the US for a brief repose from the whole travelling thing. It was reasonably easy to leave Mexico, 7 weeks in moreorless the same place (Puerto Escondido) was enough. The surf had dropped off and I had had my fill of beautiful beaches, perfect weather and an endless supply of cocktails. It was about 10 minutes in to the flight out, that I began to wonder if any of that was actually true. How, exactly, had I had my fill of the beautiful beaches, perfect weather and endless supply of cocktails? Why was I trading it all for cold weather, city life and American people?

Well I don’t have an answer for that. But for now I remain in Connecticut, considering my options. And making silly videos.

And onwards. Where should I go next? Answers in the comments please.

-MT

P.S. Apologies for taking so long to update
P.P.S. Double apologies for using a Phil Collins video in the previous post

* Well, Robert Johnson actually
** Definition, made popular by Blackadder
*** I wouldn’t know, I spent most of the film asleep (or wondering if Britney was likely to get her kit off)