Ski-runs in the High Alps

by F. F. Roget

THE SONADON CLIFFS.

To face p. 214.

There is on the way from Bourg St. Pierre to Chanrion over the Col du Sonadon a difficulty which may have turned the earlier runners away, and no doubt induced them to go round that range from the north rather than go across. This obstacle is the wall of rock which runs as an unbroken, fortified line from the shoulder of the Combin on the north to the Aiguilles Vertes in the south, and divides the Glacier de Sonadon into two basins—the upper and the lower. The old editions of the Siegfried Atlas show a dotted line which passes close to the Aiguille du Déjeuner (3,009 m.), but it has been recognised that this route is exposed to falling stones. Caravans now prefer to ascend to the Plateau du Couloir under the shoulder of the Combin, and to descend upon the Glacier de Sonadon, and thus reach the pass of that name.

We were quite successful in traversing the snow-covered rocks, along which ran in former days the usual route. In case any runners should feel called upon to prefer the new route, owing to the state of the rocks and of the snow, here are some indications as to how to strike upon the right course. From the Valsorey hut one should climb straight up, on ski or on foot, till one is on a level with the Plateau du Couloir. If the snow is good it will generally be found to be hard; if it is powdery, avalanches are likely. From the Plateau du Couloir one may slide down to the glacier and put one’s ski on again, getting gradually on a level with the Col du Sonadon. I do not say that this track is better than the old one which we took. The conditions of snow and rock should each time be considered in the choice, because open snow slopes on hard ice-worn rock are the happy hunting ground of the avalanche fiend.

At 10 o’clock, having crossed the small Glacier du Meiten, my party was standing on the edge of the high wall which overlooks the lower basin of the Glacier de Sonadon. For ski-runners the situation was somewhat ludicrous, and was not one in which to remain for any length of time. The party removed their ski, put on their climbing-irons, and the Crettex brothers, carefully roped, went forward as scouts. The snow was in capital condition (newly fallen powdery snow, very light and dry on the bare rocks, and in the couloirs old snow of great consistency). Progress was possible along a kind of ledge, which dropped slantingly along slopes whose angle of declivity was about 45 degrees. One’s foot rested occasionally in the compact snow, and sometimes on the rock itself. This ledge presented an extremely narrow surface, and if one did not know that it is in use in summer one might question in winter whether it existed at all. It is very irregular, zigzagging across the couloirs and hanging on to the spurs which separate them, but extremely interesting.

When once the Col de l’Aiguille du Déjeuner had been reached, the snow showed a continuous surface on to the Glacier du Sonadon. The ski were once more put on, and the party “tacked” its way, first down, and then up, on slopes on which the sun brought trifling avalanches into motion. At about 3 o’clock in the afternoon the caravan was seated in the full glow of the sun on the Col du Sonadon (3,389 m.). An hour later began a rapid descent on the Glacier du Mont Durand—one of the many of that name—with one’s face turned towards the sunset on the mountains above Chanrion (Ruinette, Glacier de Breney, &c.). One should avoid running too low down on the glacier. The thing to do is to cross over to the north-east arête on Mont Avril, and to descend full speed, pushing on to the Glacier de Fenêtre, describing thus a vast semicircle on to the tip of the tongue of the Glacier d’Otemma. Hence by moonlight to Chanrion on the opposite slope. The hut was reached at 6 o’clock. There was but little snow in front of the door, and no snow at all inside. By that time the moon shone through a damper atmosphere; the glass was somewhat lower, though comparatively high (it remained so throughout the expedition), but the cold had considerably abated since the morning. This meant the gathering up of mists during the night.

There is a serious drawback to the Chanrion hut. Its situation marks it out as a most convenient resort for Italian smugglers in the dull autumn and winter months when the tourist traffic has ceased. Those smugglers cross over from Italy in large numbers, bringing in farm and dairy produce, and then return to their homes laden with heavy packages of tobacco, sugar, and every kind of grocery that is heavily taxed in their own country. They are not above lifting such things as spoons, forks, tin plates, and sundry useful kitchen utensils, nay, even the blankets with which the club huts are furnished. Such movables are therefore almost entirely removed from Chanrion at the close of the summer season when the caretaker comes down. The six of us had to be content with the barest necessaries out of the always very scanty club furniture: six spoons, six forks, six plates, six knives, six blankets: quite enough, you see, whether smugglers or no smugglers.

Fourth Day (January 12th).—As foreseen, the weather was dull. Departure at 8.30. Considerable masses of snow had filled up, or at least completely closed, the huge crevasses, which in summer are open at the junction of the Glacier d’Otemma with the Glacier of Crête Sèche. Not the slightest fissure could be detected.

There are at the outlet of the Crête Sèche glacier some interesting engineering works to regulate the outflow and obviate floods which have repeatedly visited the Dranse valley, owing to the collection of water in glacier pockets and their bursting when the weight is too great for the ice walls to bear. Of these not a sign could be seen.