Cold is not only a danger as it produces local chills or frost-bite, it also has an immediate deleterious effect upon the general climbing power and confidence. Wind, in this respect also, is the greatest enemy of the climber. The muscles generate their own warmth, which is the body’s energy; but once they get chilled from outside by wind or cold, they lose a great part of their power. A cold limb should at once be rubbed; and, as a precaution, clothes should always err on the side of being too thick rather than too light. The human body can endure great windless cold, but little cold wind. With the chilling of the muscles the nerve and will-power diminish also. For the reactions of cold, local and general, a leader must be always on the watch.
The sun has three dangers for inexperience. Snow-blindness rarely gives warning. It is often only painfully realized on the following day. Therefore until a man knows the power of his eyes he should use precaution and put on coloured or smoked glasses when he sees the first flash from the prisms on glacier or snow-field. But on rock coloured glasses are a great nuisance, where they are rarely needed however strong the glare. Again, in traversing snow-covered glacier such glasses are frequently an interruption to the observation of hidden crevasses. Further, experience suggests that as many as a quarter of those now climbing really require no protection at all. For others it would be sufficient to have their eyes blackened round with burnt cork. For others again it would be enough protection to wear clear glasses over eyes so blackened. Experiment alone will find our individual equation, and, unfortunately, the experiment may often be trying. But it is one well worth making, on suitable occasions, for the sake of the permanent gain if we find that glasses can be dispensed with. If a man who finds he needs glasses has forgotten or lost them, a mask should be made of any piece of paper, with the smallest possible slits for the eyes. He should also blacken round his eyes with cork. If only a single glass is broken, a paper or card, with a minute hole, should be inserted in the empty frame.
Sun-blistering is as permanent and excruciating in its consequences as it is gradual in its attack. It may be produced by the direct sun-rays; more severely by light reflected from snow or water or diffused through thick mist; less severely by wind and reflected light from rock or road. Grease is generally useless as protection; colour salves, as elsewhere recommended, are the only preventive. It is to be noted that the facets of the face most exposed to the reflection from the snow, the underside of the nose, the lips and the cheeks, are usually given an insufficient allowance. Bathing in cold water is deadly, especially to the lips, once the skin has scorched. One compensation for the loss of our complexion with advancing years is the lessening of our susceptibility to this infliction.
Sunstroke in a mild form is constantly mistaken for mountain sickness, for “poisoning at the hotel,” and so on. The surest precaution is to wear a loose handkerchief hanging from the hat, to protect the neck. The coat-collar can also be turned up. It is excellent, on all sun-glaring days, to make a habit of filling the hollow in the crown of the hat with snow, and, when it melts and trickles refreshingly down, of renewing the snow. Until men have got accustomed to being alternately baked and frozen three times a day, they have to be reminded of these and similar small precautions. In the event of slight sun-touches, ice or wet cloths, shade, light food, and no alcohol are the local treatment. Plenty of moisture outside and inside is essential, and, as for all other ailments, rest.
Bathing.
Bathing in lake or stream, or even in glacier pools, is one of the most perfect rewards of mountaineering effort. In the very early morning or at a night-start it is not advisable, as it checks the necessary business of getting the bodily machinery working; nor is it often desired at these hours. During the day, the inclination at great heights fortunately appears to diminish, coincident with the disappearance of the opportunities to indulge it. When the human machine is centring all its powers on the continuance of a single exceptional effort, it has an instinctive shrinking from submitting itself to processes, however delightful, that will interfere with this concentration. Rest is a necessary interruption and must be suffered, but short exposures of the body to hot sunlight upon cold rocks, or in colder water, in most cases do us more harm by producing a general relaxation than they benefit us by their momentary refreshment. But when the main effort of the day is past, and the body has no fear of calling out its last reserves, the bathe on the descent is an indescribable delight and refreshment. We may have still some way to go, but to perform this we shall have, in any case, to summon up our energies afresh; and at such natural moments of interruption the bracing impetus of a bathe will help to regulate our circulation anew and to store mind and nerves with new energy for the new commencement. We climb for pleasure; and when body and mind are working in harmony the pleasures our mind suggests are generally the remedies or relaxations our body needs. If no water is to be found, to get rid of the stuffiness of alpine clothes, and to give all the skin surfaces a bath of air and sunlight, is only one degree less pleasant or stimulating than a bathe in water itself. Caution at the same time is necessary in encouraging men, and especially young people, of whose circulation or heart we may have doubts, to risk the intensely cold shock of glacier water upon baked and sun-congested surfaces. It is perhaps worth remembering that the risk of actual chill is greater during the process of drying in cold air or wind after a bathe (always a lengthy process in the towel-less Alps) than during the bathe itself. It is unpleasant for the time, but far warmer in feel and after effect, to put on clothes without waiting to get dry.
Minute attention to such details of provisioning, health, and regimen can be relaxed as a party of men comes into training and begins to know its business, but it should never be entirely discontinued. One day’s carelessness in revising the food, or the disregard of a cold toe, a blister, or a ‘bad night,’ may at any time upset the plans of a whole tour.
Young Folk.
In the management of boys and girls below twenty-two or so, it is impossible to exercise too much care. Boys especially, whose activity depends upon the impulse of their interest and rarely settles to an automatic rhythm, may ‘shut up’ with startling suddenness, both mentally and physically. Nor can our observation tell us for certain beforehand when they are really beginning to draw upon their reserves of vitality, or when they are only getting bored. They have no conception of economy in their movement, so long as the impulse of excitement lasts. As the interest of a climb diminishes, on the evening tramp or the prolonged snow slope, their mental vivacity may die down, and with it ends their energy. At such times, if they have not been allowed actually to exhaust their physical strength, they will revive as rapidly in response to a new mental stimulus, of talk, or sight, or varied exertion. In their case it is the mind that calls for first attention and first aid.
Girls move less on springs and more by rhythm. Their activity is less reflective of external stimulus, and less dependent upon mental impulse for its continuance. They have not the boy’s natural armour of nervous sensibility against overwork. It is, therefore, more possible in their case to watch the degree of positive physical fatigue in outward signs, and to anticipate more exactly the moment of exhaustion by suitable measures. Though their endurance is on the whole greater than that of boys, or at least fluctuates less in proportion to the amount of mental distraction or interest present in the physical effort, the effects of over-fatigue are more lasting. With both boys and girls, the only safe precaution is to allow very broad margins of time and distance, to select climbs which both in difficulty and length shall be well within the powers of young growing bodies, and above all not to be induced by the suppleness of youth or its momentary enthusiasm to make exceptions ‘just this once’ to sound general rules.