Chamonix Mont-Blanc — Le Raid Glacier
Mornings in Chamonix are a blessing. A sweet orange hue from the sun waiting to rise over the mountains. I took pictures.
At 7:30am, we set out. They stopped our bus at the Italy border, because we needed two escorting cars in front of and behind us to get through the tunnel to Italy. I think it was because we were going without passports. We reached base at Skyway Monte Bianco, which I assume is Italian for Skyway Mont-Blanc.
We were split into groups of 5, and I was assigned to a group with an English speaking guide, Sebastian. We were given helmets, harnesses and walking sticks, and then taken up the skyway in a circular pod. The height was a little frightening, but the views were worth it. It was a big day.
We had to take two skyways up to reach the snow. We checked the fitting of our crampons and went to the toilet before beginning the hike. We also went up to the viewing deck, but my hands were too cold to get a good panoramic picture. I didn’t have sunglasses and did not ask for any spares, since I’d need to wear them on top of my regular glasses. But, Sebastian suggested I do that since snow + sunlight = very bright. He gave me his spare pair of sunglasses, and I’m glad he did.
Once our crampons were tied, ropes attached to one another, ice axes stowed away in our backpack straps and walking sticks in hand, we set off.
We started off at a slight descent, making use of our walking sticks from the offset. Walking in snow is like walking in quicksand. We trekked along the edge of a valley, and then begun ascending slightly. It was starting to get hard on the legs already, but on the right hand side I could see the morning sun behind a thin veil of clouds, positioned in the most picturesque way possible in the background of the most picturesque snow sprinkled mountain peaks possible. My phone was stowed away in my backpack which was tied by the rope that connected the group, both front buckles were fastened around my waist and chest with the ice axe hanging in the straps, we were walking at a comfortable yet challenging pace and I believed my hands would’ve frozen the instant I took off my gloves — all reasons that I did not capture this most wondrous scene in a photo — but it will forever be ingrained in my mind as a view of a lifetime.
This was one of the high (mentally — we still had a long ascend ahead) points of the hike.
Not much talking happened, for two reasons. One, we were quite far away from one another — there was a fair amount of rope between us, and we were told to keep it off the ground as much as possible. This was because if we were close together and one of us happened to slip into a crevasse, they would bring the whole team down. We also had to be careful not to step on the rope, since the crampons could damage it and it was our safety net. The second reason was of course saving our breath. Even though the start was fairly easy (I was first in line, right behind Sebastian, but I could hear the people behind me talking when we first set out), it soon began taking a toll on our bodies and everyone fell silent.
After a few minutes of walking uphill, we caught up with the team in front of us, and stopped for a break until there was some distance between us again. This was fortunate, since I was barely able to keep lifting my feet. He told us the story of the first men to climb the Mont-Blanc in the meantime. And then, we trudged on.
We were going in a general direction, but there were three or four possible footstep trails diverging at some point from the one we were on, so I did not know exactly which way we would go or what our destination was. I had chosen the group on Level 2 difficulty (in a range from 1 to 3), so I believed the groups walking the furthest ahead were those from Level 3, and that we would probably stop earlier. But, there wasn’t a refuge hut in sight. Seeing the long walk ahead made me more tired, so I found it better to concentrate on my feet. Just put one foot in front of the other, and when that’s done, do it again. I wasn’t forsaking the beauty around me to look at my feet though, since at the pace we were going, the view wasn’t exactly changing very fast, and the occasional glance up was enough to fill me in. But what had previously felt like quicksand, now felt like huge stairs made of quicksand. With the weight of my backpack, ice axe and heavy clothing, it was torturous.
I had to ask for another break. It wasn’t an easy ask, since I was already the slowest of the group, which meant that all six of us were walking at my pace. But at this point I was fighting for breath and didn’t really see another option. Sebastian had been annoyed with me for not being able to tie my crampons properly earlier, but he didn’t mind taking the break, and was definitely not ungenerous about it. We stood a full five minutes.
Soon though, it was time to continue our journey. Energy replenishes fast, and the few minutes after having taken a break are the ones where you fleetingly feel invincible. It also depletes fast though. The trek was still uphill, and soon I was once again exhausted. I had learned by now that taking baby steps takes less strength, since you just have to shuffle along as opposed to putting all your strength into each stride.
Sebastian now showed us our end goal for the day, pointing to a summit in the distance. Other teams were already on their way up the final peak, but we were nowhere close. He asked us if we wanted to go for it, or if we wanted to turn back early. All four team members behind me responded to go for it. He then asked me what I wanted. Every part of my body was screaming to turn back around, but if we did, it may as well all have been for nothing. There would be no achievement to show. I wanted to feel proud of myself. And the last thing I wanted was to rob my team of reaching their potential for the sake of my own comfort. I agreed to continue to the summit.
We ploughed on. Sebastian chose longer paths over steeper paths, which I understood was to make the climb easier for us, but nevertheless wished we could get over with ASAP. I was constantly telling myself that this was an experience of a lifetime. Soak it in. Ignore the pain. This went on for what felt like hours, before we reached the final stretch preceding the summit. ‘Ice axes’, said Sebastian. We were not climbing up a straight face, but more diagonally along an edge, so the terrain beneath our feet was ascending in the forward direction, and descending to our left. We were told to keep our walking sticks in our left hand, and ice axes (which were shorter) in our right. Using both, and mustering up a final spell of energy, we made it to the summit.
I did not have ski pants, and so was wearing two pairs of sweatpants, one on top of the other. This meant that I’d been avoiding sitting in the snow, since when my body heat would cause it to melt, it would soak through and freeze my bottom. But now, there were bare rocks to sit on. There was food from the picnic we had packed in our bags. And there, at an elevation of some 3500 meters, was the most incredible landscape I had witnessed in many, many years. In front of us was the Mont-Blanc, and to the left a valley that had previously been engulfed in clouds (yes, we were above clouds) but could now been seen in all its glory. It was mid-afternoon and the sun was high in the sky now, still behind a thin cloud cover. I took my sunglasses off and saw the world transition from rose-brown to bright white. Snow-white, if you will.
We were hungry and thirsty and tired. We ripped out our picnic bags and feasted. The main meal was a baguette, which unfortunately had become rock hard upon spending so much time with us in sub-zero temperature. This was no time to be picky though, and we ate nevertheless. I quickly realized I’d have to keep my gloves on if I didn’t want my fingers going blue, and so I did. The water was also understandably colder than if it’d been kept in a refrigerator. Overwhelmed by a mixture of gratification and fatigue, I didn’t have it in me to make conversation with the rest of the group, and so I focused on eating.
A couple of other groups who were partially through their descent could be sighted as lines of tiny dark specs in the huge blanket of white. It wouldn’t be difficult to get lost in an unforgiving place like this. The lyric ‘It’s funny how some distance can make everything seem small’ looped in my head. It’s true.
Fed, watered and relaxed, it was time to head back to base. It took some time to sort out the roping as we left the summit, since we were still all tied to one another and we had to leave in the same order and without tangling the rope so as to create the right distance between each other again. Once that was done, the first part of the descent was the steepest. I loved going downhill. You could practically run without getting tired, as long as you were careful. I found a technique where stomping heel first prevented my ankles from twisting as much as they did on the way up, and I was so ready to go home. Sebastian had picked up a much faster pace than on the way up, and I could feel the tugs of his rope at my waist. I had no problem keeping up with him, but I was also being tugged from behind, restricting how fast I could walk. At one point, we had to stop.
We then found out that the person at the back of the line had lost one of his crampons. Crampons are essential for our feet to grip the snow, so I can imagine it was a slippery ride down for him, and he was clearly struggling. Sebastian tried to instruct him to keep walking, but eventually had to hike up to him and show him himself.
I could hear the instructions he was giving. The problem was, he was speaking in French. I’ve learned French in high school and can understand it just fine when it’s written, but French people speak so fast that it’s a whole different story. I’m lucky if I can pick up even a couple of words in a sentence. And the couple of words I heard in one of Sebastian’s sentences at this point were, ‘c’est dangereux’, meaning ‘it’s dangerous’. Obviously concerned for my life, I asked him, ‘what’s dangerous?’, to which he replied, ‘oh, it’s nothing’. I got back alive though, so I guess it’s okay that I’ll never find out.
We had been the last team to reach the summit, and we were the last team to go down. Although not all teams were on the same trail as ours, Sebastian was in contact with fellow guides over a walky-talky, so we knew. This meant we had to hurry, and after about fifteen minutes, Sebastian was back in his position at the front of the line and was incessantly tugging at us to move fast. I was still being tugged at from behind from time to time, but with some minor hiccups we managed to make it to somewhat flat land, by the valley we had crossed on our way up. Without the component of gravity assisting me, this is where the fatigue kicked in once again, and worse this time, since Sebastian refused to stop. He said we could walk slow, but there was still a long way ahead and my feet refused to move at any reasonable pace. For the next half hour, I walked like a zombie, partially assisted by the tugs of the rope at my waist.
I have never felt more relieved than when we reached base. Sebastian congratulated me as he took his lended sunglasses back, and after removing our crampons, harnesses and helmets, we headed through the tunnel back to the skyway.
It had been exhilarating. It had been incredible. But also, never again. Not until I start hitting the gym, at least.
