Under fair conditions winter mountaineering is often surprisingly easy. Men who have enjoyed unbroken good luck with their weather are tempted to discount the very real dangers of mountaineering in winter, and to adopt a paradoxical attitude towards the Alps in winter, implying that the only danger to be feared is sunstroke and snow-blindness. Those who have not been so uniformly lucky realize that winter mountaineering on a big scale is a sport from which the element of danger will never be lacking; that a sudden storm may transform even an easy expedition into a desperate struggle for safety.
The Approaches to the High Alps.
Often the most difficult, and sometimes the most dangerous, part of a winter expedition in the High Alps is the first day’s march to the club hut. Once the upper regions are attained, progress is usually fairly straightforward. It is quite normal for ski-runners to make nearly as good time on the ascent of a snow-peak as summer climbers, but it is very rare indeed that the club hut is reached in anything approaching summer time. From one and a half to twice as long must be allowed for the ascent to most club huts.
The long, narrow valleys that so often lead to huts are usually very deep in soft powdery snow, so that progress must be slow, whereas in the upper regions the snow is usually more or less packed by the wind, which makes for easier going on the ascent, even though the descent may be far from pleasant. Moreover, the danger from avalanches is usually much more serious in the lower regions, where the slopes are much steeper and the valleys narrower.
On the first day’s march the guides will be heavily loaded, for the full equipment for a serious expedition in the High Alps is very much more bulky and weighty than that necessary in summer. In the first place, no prudent ski-runner commits himself to a High Alp tour without ample reserves of food. He must allow for the danger of finding himself stormbound in a hut for a period which may be anything from a day to a fortnight. Plenty of compressed reserve food is essential until the club huts begin to store emergency rations. Further, as a broken ski may involve serious consequences, he must burden himself with spare ski-tips and all the apparatus for mending ski. Extra clothes, plenty of gloves, and, of course, crampons add to the overburdened rucksacks. Unless one is prepared to carry very heavy sacks it does not pay to economize in porters. As a rule, you should reckon two guides or porters for every member of the party if you contemplate an expedition of some five to six days in length, unless, of course, you are prepared to carry some thirty pounds or so in your own sack for the first day. Of course, if you take two porters to the hut, they may be sent back from the hut; but it is obviously unfair to expect a solitary porter to make the descent alone.
Everything should be done to make matters easy. If the first part of the ascent lies up a path or a wood-track, a boy should be hired to carry your ski. If the ascent begins from some out-of-the-way alpine valley, it will often pay to send a guide on ahead the day before to make tracks for part of the distance in soft snow. This is especially useful if you are attempting a very big climb from one of the rather higher alpine valleys or mountain inns without using a club hut. It is unwise to reckon on climbing more than an average of 500 feet per hour for the first day.
An early start is essential. The longest days pass fairly comfortably if you break them up with frequent short halts and short feeds. It is often impossible in winter to make a prolonged halt owing to the cold. A few caramels or some chocolate, which can be easily got at, should be kept in one’s pocket, and munched during short halts. Napoleon’s rule of a short rest and something to eat every hour is a good rule for climbers, especially winter climbers who are heavily laden.
The huts as a rule are comfortable enough in winter, though the stoves often prove troublesome. Wood is usually kept in large quantities, brought up at the end of the autumn, though it is as well to make inquiries on this point before starting. On reaching the hut, set the aneroid barometer usually found in most huts. A pocket-barometer is not so reliable, for, as Whymper pointed out and conclusively proved, the usual aneroid tends to lose on the mercurial. In other words, if you carry a pocket-aneroid up some thousands of feet and then set it at the hut, it will usually fall a point during the night, where a mercurial barometer would have remained stationary.
So, too, if you descend from a peak to a hut, the pocket-aneroid will rise where a mercurial would remain stationary, thereby often conveying very dangerous and misleading information. It is most important to set the hut aneroid, so as to have some warning of the approach of a sudden storm.
If you are unlucky enough to be caught by bad weather in a hut, and if your provisions run short, you should spend as much of your time as possible lying down and keeping warm, for the less exercise you take the less food you will need. People who practise the ‘fast cure’ have proved that a man can go without any food for a week and carry on his ordinary business without feeling unduly weakened. It is therefore in every way better to stay at the hut fasting—even for three or four days—than to attempt to descend in a bad storm. If the worst comes to the worst, and the party is thoroughly weakened by lack of food, they can always stay at the hut and await the search party.