Ski-runs in the High Alps

by F. F. Roget

A raid on ski is not a raid if it is interrupted by stress of weather. It is then best described as a commonplace misadventure. The intending raider must trust to chance, assisted by a careful reading of the daily reports of the weather issued from Zürich. These reports now very usually distinguish between High Alp weather and the conditions prevailing during the same periods in the lake and river region. When there is a scientific prospect of fog over the lakes and rivers, this means that the air is still, and that the sun shines upon every mountain rising above four, five, or six thousand feet, as the case may be. A wind arising from north or east will not interfere with the raid (except in the matter of cold), but a gale from west or south will bring it to an abrupt end, and be attended with the utmost danger if the warning of a falling glass is not immediately acted upon.

During the eight days that this raid lasted, the weather was absolutely steady, fine, and windless, the sun and moon vying uninterruptedly with each other to extinguish darkness. We suffered at no time from the cold after sunset or in club huts, and basked all day long in the sun’s direct heat and in the rays reflected from the snows. The temperature fell at night to 10 or 15 degrees under zero Centigrade, and rose to most extraordinary readings during the day. We were dressed in the warm, tough material used by all competent mountain climbers even in the height of summer, with strong thick boots, and never for a moment suffered from cold feet.

Thanks to the above circumstances and to a happy concourse of every advantage, my two companions and myself were the first human beings who ever smoked their pipes and cigars in winter, and sat in their shirt-sleeves on the top of the Aiguille du Tour, Aiguille du Chardonnet, and Grand Combin. The latter summit was attempted by one of my colleagues at Bâle (Mr. O. D. Tauern, the German gentleman mentioned in another chapter). But the most gallant efforts failed to bring him and his friends to the very top, though the tour was a complete vindication of winter mountaineering on ski. An account of their expedition appeared in the Annual (1908) of the Schweizer Ski-Verband.

A ski-raid upon the giants of the Alpine world does not necessarily mean that the raider sets his ski upon the brow of the conquered adversary. Such a pretension would be pedantic. The summits of the Alps may, for the ski-runner, be divided into three classes, strictly according to their conformation, whether they be small or great, Alpine or only sub-Alpine.

There is the class which is inaccessible under winter conditions, because those summits are then led up to by slopes so sharp or insecure that neither ski nor boot can reasonably be used upon them. That class we reject altogether. Another class consists of mountains, such as the Diablerets, Wildhorn, Wildstrubel, the tops of which are led up to by slopes eminently fitted for ski, both upwards and downwards. A third class consists of summits which cannot be reached on ski, because they are rock-pinnacles, but which can be only conveniently approached on ski. This class, to my mind, is the best, as it combines ski-running with rock-climbing. The Dufour Spitze of Monte Rosa would be the grandest example in this category.

Grand Combin, approached on the north side from the Plateau des Maisons Blanches, belongs to the same class as Diablerets, Wildhorn, and Wildstrubel. But if the ascent be varied by climbing the rocks viâ Combin de Valsorey, a course which I found as easy and comfortable in winter as in summer, the Grand Combin passes into a—to my mind—higher class. The Aiguille du Chardonnet and the Aiguille du Tour, to the tops of which there is from no side a continuous way on snow, are other typical instances.

Any one who would follow in our footsteps and perform, like us, an eight or ten days’ ski-running and rock-climbing raid, will find every useful indication as to programme and distribution of time in the following description:—

The raid comprises three parts: First, Aiguille du Tour and Aiguille du Chardonnet; second, Great St. Bernard, and Val Ferret back to Orsières; third, Grand Combin, and back to Martigny.

The ski-runners will leave Orsières at about 7 o’clock a.m., and proceed on their first day to the Cabane d’Orny, or to the Cabane Dupuys, which lies still higher. The Cabane d’Orny being quite comfortable, the vertical displacement from Orsières (890 metres) to the site of that hut (2,692 metres) will probably be found a sufficient effort to justify one in leaving the higher hut severely alone that day. The Cabane d’Orny may be reached either by following the bed of the Combe d’Orny from Orsières, or viâ Chalets de Saleinaz, from Praz de Fort. We found both lines of access equally good, but information as to the best at any given time of the winter season should always be obtained from those locally acquainted with snowcraft. The ascent to the hut being continuous, the ski-runner will save much time, and save up much energy, in using a contrivance against back-slip, whichever may be the one he favours.

There is near the Cabane d’Orny, against a flight of rocks, a nivometer. This is an apparatus for recording the height at which the snow may rise against a rock face. Persons of an observant turn of mind are requested to read the nivometer (which consists of horizontal bars of red paint, bearing each a number at regular intervals) and to enter in the hut-book the date of the observation. This is one of the many lame devices which have been contrived to measure the snowfall at a given spot during the year. It is supposed that interesting data, and points of comparison from year to year, may thus be collected. And these, with observations made at other places in the glacier zone, are digested and published from time to time.