The summer holidays of 1906 drew nigh. Our longing for mountain adventure was no longer to be denied, and elders and betters had perforce to give way. But they enforced two provisos—we were to be accompanied by guides, and climbing was to be restricted to the lesser Alps of Northern Switzerland. We climbed a few lesser summits, all about 10,000 feet high; on none was there climbing where hands as well as feet were required, and not once did we see the axe used to cut a step. Efforts to wheedle our stalwart guardians into attacking the bold pyramid of the Segnes Tschingelhorn, always provocatively before our eyes, failed miserably; they had their instructions. But they could not always keep us in sight, and more than once, stealing forth alone, we found good climbing, adventure and untrammelled fun; and the desire to climb without guides was born in us.
That winter the lesser peaks and passes of Grindelwald were visited on skis. A stern effort to gain the Strahlegg Pass was frustrated by a snowstorm in the teeth of which for nineteen hours on end we fought our way back to Grindelwald, having learnt that, with map and compass and given your bearings, bad weather in the mountains can be faced and even enjoyed if you only keep on moving and do not get flurried. We also knew now that boots should be large enough to enable two pairs of woollen socks to be worn without pinching the foot, and that toe-caps should be high and roomy so as not to interfere with the circulation. A sweater worn underneath a wind-proof jacket of sailcloth was found to be both lighter and much warmer than heavy tweeds through which the wind could blow and to which the snow would stick.
From 1907 onwards until 1911, Max and I both studied in Zürich and were thus thrown into close and continual contact with the mountains, from which we were separated only by some three or four hours by rail. Barely a week-end went by without our taking train to the mountains and climbing. During the Easter holidays of 1907 we betook ourselves on skis up to the Clariden hut, one of the many little shelters built by the Swiss Alpine Club in the heart of the mountains. These huts are furnished with straw-filled sleeping bunks, blankets, a small cooking stove, a supply of wood, and cooking and eating utensils. We had with us provisions for a week, during the whole of which period the weather was fine and snow conditions at their best. We climbed almost all the surrounding summits, the return to the hut each evening taking the form of an effortless run on skis over the Clariden Glacier.
During the summer vacation of the same year Max and I successfully obtained carte blanche to climb without guides, and for nearly three months we roamed in and about the range of the Tödi. We climbed most of the summits in the range, including the Tödi itself, which with its 11,800 feet of altitude was much the highest mountain so far grappled with. We always endeavoured to exercise every possible attention to the following out of the lessons hitherto learnt, losing no opportunity of acquiring fresh knowledge regarding matters of equipment, the handling of rope and axe, and the mountains themselves. In particular we aimed at cultivating a sense of route-finding and teaching ourselves how to use the map. The winter of that year saw us embarking upon expeditions of a more ambitious nature than those previously attempted. Up to the Easter of 1908 our most successful winter feat was an ascent of the Sustenhorn on skis; but during that vacation we accomplished the ascent of the Tödi, a winter expedition that even to-day is reckoned by no means a simple undertaking. As the summer holidays approached, a still more ambitious programme was drawn up. Our self-assurance, confidence—call it what you like—seems to have been boundless, for we now considered that our apprenticeship had been sufficiently long to justify us in letting ambitions soar into reality. The programme, although not carried out in its entirety, nevertheless proved a great success. Beginning with the Bernese Oberland, we climbed the Wetterhorn, were driven back by storm just below the summit of the Eiger, but followed up the reverse by climbing the Mönch, Jungfrau and Finsteraarhorn. Thence making our way down the Aletsch Glacier to the Rhône Valley, we went up to Zermatt. From there we climbed the Matterhorn and the Dent Blanche, then crossed over the Col d’Hérens to Arolla, where for the first time we experienced to the full the pleasures of traversing a mountain, that is, ascending by one route and descending by another. Amongst others, were traversed the Aiguille de la Za, the Aiguilles Rouges d’Arolla and the Pigne d’Arolla. The ascent of the last-named was made by cutting steps up the steep north face, and it was this climb more than any other that won me over to the delights of ice-climbing. Returning to Zermatt by various high-level passes, we journeyed northwards and wound up the season in the Tödi district, where all the major summits were traversed.
Photo T. G. B. Forster.
Scrambling in the range of the Tödi.
Facing page 18.