Day 1
Today we woke to a fresh blanket of snow in Argentiere. Here's the view from our hotel window.
Rather than being a cause for celebration, the snow made the avalanche conditions iffy--both because of the unconsolidated snow on the slopes, and the cloud cover that made it difficult to see the slopes above us. Still, Dominique, our guide, thought it was safe to at least go up there and check things out. If avalanche danger was too great, we could always just ski down the Argentiere glacier (which ends on the outskirts of town), and then drive to Verbier tomorrow for the next leg of our tour.
Another benefit of being able to drive to Verbier was that Mark, one of the six skiers in our group, had injured his back before the trip and was having a hard time just walking around town. If Mark's injury kept him being able to ski, we could retreat and reassess instead of being committed in the mountains.
Here's our group, gearing up before our ride in the telepherique that will give us a little boost in elevation before the start of our trip. That's Bruce, facing the camera on the right. He's a carpenter and volunteer guide for the Canadian Alpine Club. His sweetheart Fern is on the left. In the red jacket is our excellent Swiss guide, Dominique Fellay
Question: How many skiers does it take to fill a telepherique?
Answer: According to the lift operator, a few more...
From the top of the Grandes Montets lift, we skied about 700m (2300 ft.) down to the Argentiere Glacier. What an introduction to skiing in the Alps! The powder frequently enveloped me to the waist. Veterans Brad and Bruce called it "a bit heavy," but in my limited experience this was some of the lightest, deepest snow I'd ever skied. In conditions like this, as long as you stay balanced, skiing feels like flying--smooth, gentle, graceful swoops down the mountainside, buoyed by a substance more like water than anything solid.
I was relieved to discover that while I certainly wasn't the fastest downhill skier in the group, I also wasn't the slowest. My fears of being a ball-and-chain on this trip were left in a rooster tail of powder.
Dominique and BradNext, we skinned across the Argentiere Glacier and climbed the Col du Chardonnet. "Skinning" involves attaching strips of fabric to the bottom of your skis that grip the snow, enabling you to climb steep slopes. It's a lot like snowshoeing.
Nick, Brad, and Dominique climbing the south side of the Col.For most of the climb, we were joined by a group of British soldiers, and a separate pair of British pilots. Like many skiers we met during the tour, their itinerary was the same as ours, so we kept seeing them at the huts and thus became friends. Some backcountry skiers complain that the Haute Route is a cattle trail, and while there were a few spots, like here in the col and also at the top of the peak Rosablanche, where it would have been nice to have some solitude, for almost the whole trip we had fresh tracks and alpine silence. And while the huts were sometimes crowded, I enjoyed the camaraderie.
Video of skinning up the Col du Chardonnet: Low (YouTube) or High quality. The British soldiers are all in black pants and white shirts.
Here we are nearing the top of the col. The last 30m or so was too steep and icy to skin, so we attached our skis to our packs and used steps kicked into the snow and ice. I found the climbing insecure and scary--without crampons, I didn't know if my feet would skid out from under me and send me sliding down the Col and over some nasty-looking rocks. I learned later that loosening up my boots (I had them buckled pretty tight to avoid blisters) would have given me better range of motion, and thus better balance.At the top, Dominique announced that we had to head back. Mark's back had slowed him down on the skin up the col, and at our pace, we'd be hard pressed to reach our goal, the Cabane du Trient, before sundown. And with the avalanche conditions being so sketchy, he thought it was safer to return to Argentiere.
I regret that I was too busy throwing on a puffy jacket, warm gloves, and crampons to take a peek at the other side of the col. This spot had captured my imagination when I read about it in preparation for the trip. It's too steep to ski--at about 60-65 degrees, most parties either downclimb it or sideslip on rappel. I'd joked with friends that they call it the Col du Chardonnet because it's too steep to ski sober.
Dominique says that at one time, the Saliena Glacier filled the col, reducing its angle, but it has receded in recent decades. Glaciers are shrinking throughout the Alps, he says. But I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. :(
The crampons made the descent from the col much easier, and then we descended the rest on skis, enjoying some great powder. Toward the bottom, we had to negotiate some avalanche terrain, spreading out to distribute our weight and reduce the consequences of a slide. This was the first time I'd done this, and I found it creepy.
Mark high in the Col.After spilling out onto the Argentiere Glacier, we made our way down into town through tracked-up ski runs and forested hillsides. We were frequently side-stepping to get ourselves out of dead-ends, and falling trying to negotiate narrow gullies and moguled steep sections.
Nick on the slopes above Argentiere. Evil ski-tip-grabbing larch trees await.We were all happy to reach town and discover there was room at the Gite. Gites are supposedly like bed and breakfasts, but this one resembled an American hostel.
That night, after having a homemade dinner cooked in the hostel's kitchen, we discussed Mark's situation. I had expected Dominique to recommend that Mark abandon the trip before we committed ourselves to more isolated parts of the Alps, but instead he encouraged Mark to stick with it. The next part of the trip was less rigorous than the Col de Chardonnet leg, and would give Mark another day or two to evaluate his back. At the time, I was worried that this might jeopardize the trip for everyone, but in retrospect I'm glad we were patient. Mark proved to be a great member of the group (though everyone else knew each other from previous trips, I only knew Nick). His kindness made him a pleasure to be around, and his great skiing skills helped to make up for his injury, which slowly improved over the course of the trip.
