Perhaps from nowhere else are the impressive beauties and the almost overwhelming grandeur of the Monte Rosa of Macugnaga to be seen to better advantage than from the Monte Moro. From the Jägerhorn up the Nordend, over the Grenz Gipfel, beyond the Zumstein Spitze and the Punta Margherita down to the Colle della Loccie, the eye travelled on that still, clear morning along a bewildering succession of clear-cut snow-crests, aglow and glistening in the morning light, interrupted here and there by gaunt rock cliffs all dusted with freshly-fallen snow. Rolling mists obscured the Macugnaga Glacier and gently bathed the foot of the precipitous slopes and avalanche-seared cliffs that towered up, tier upon tier, to the support of the summit ridges—a support seemingly robbed of stability by the clouds that concealed its foundations; an immense wall perched up above illimitable space and threatened with imminent dissolution. The trembling, bluish haze of distance, deepening in hue as the sun’s rays gained in strength, softened the sharp outlines of the ridges, the harsh contrast between rock and snow; and, with the thinning of the mists above the Macugnaga Glacier, cliff and cloud gradually merged into each other. A grand and glorious sight had now been transformed into a vision, almost ethereal in its sublime beauty, and into my half-waking dreams there came a fleeting glimpse of the climber’s paradise.
The moments passed, bringing in their train a multitude of thoughts and happenings of which the mind, with such happy facility, selects and stores up none but the pleasant, to serve later as a panacea for all the evils that beset those of the true faith during their servitude in the plains. Max had donned his boots, and together we discussed the problem confronting us. Case stirred uneasily on his rocky couch, awoke, and joined in the solemn conclave. Then came Obexer, who, with the optimism of all his nineteen years, pointed out a route leading up to the rocks of the Grenz Gipfel, to follow which would have led to certain and sudden death. Detail was lost in the hazy distance, and we could arrive at no solution of how to avoid the badly-broken belt of séracs which crowns the rocks of the Imseng Rücken. Avalanches fell frequently; many, finding insufficient room in the Marinelli Couloir to contain them in their mad rush towards the glacier far below, plunged down over the broken rocks of the Imseng Rücken in rolling clouds of driven snow.
We lunched in Macugnaga. The porter, Alessandro Corsi, the sole survivor of the ill-fated Damiano Marinelli’s party which was overwhelmed by an avalanche on the Imseng Rücken in 1881, joined us at our table with that delightfully unassuming camaraderie which is still an endearing feature of the natives of the unspoilt valleys of Alpine Italy. The news of our project spread rapidly, and all too soon we were forced to beat a hasty retreat up the path to the Belvedère Hôtel, in order to escape the lively torrent of questions and comments which were rained down upon us from all quarters. But it was only another case of out of the frying-pan into the fire. Long before we found shelter in the Belvedère, a thunderstorm had drenched us to the skin. Towards sunset, the clouds lifted from the summit ridges, to reveal a generous sprinkling of new snow on the upper slopes of Monte Rosa.
After sunrise on the following morning (August 7, 1911), we left our comfortable quarters and strolled up the Macugnaga Glacier past the Pedriolo Alp. Here a halt was called to enable Max and myself to submit to a critical examination the séracs above the Imseng Rücken. If only possible, we wished to avoid having to find a way through the lower belt of these grotesquely piled-up pinnacles whose stability was so obviously doubtful. Apart from this, I was well aware of the difficulties with which this intricate labyrinth abounded, and of the loss of time that the overcoming of these difficulties would entail—a most serious matter on such an expedition as this. From the Imseng Rücken to the Silber Sattel, the Marinelli Couloir glistened with ice, and the idea of cutting up its full length was soon renounced. Quite apart from the volume of step-cutting in promise, the couloir serves as a huge drainage funnel for the avalanches falling down the walls of the vast amphitheatre extending from the Nordend to the Punta Margherita, and to remain in it for hours on end would be to incur too grave risks. Finally, we decided to try to evade the worst of the séracs by cutting up the Marinelli Couloir to a point about six hundred and fifty feet above the head of the Imseng Rücken; then, turning to the left towards the Punta Margherita, we would grapple with the broken medley of séracs, ice cliffs and bergschrunds through which a way must be forced ere the final bergschrund below the rocks of the Grenz Gipfel were gained. Actually the expedition was carried out in conformity with these plans, down to almost the last detail; but in the light of later experience I believe that following the Marinelli Couloir throughout would have brought us to our goal more quickly and in far greater safety.
R. H. K. Peto.
The east face of Monte Rosa.
The summits on the skyline ridge are, from left to right, the Punta Margherita, Zumstein Spitze, Grenz Gipfel and the Nordend. The Marinelli Couloir descends from the depression between the Grenz Gipfel and the Nordend.
Facing page 142.