Ski Mountaineering in the Appennines

I have the good fortune to live close to the Appennine mountains. In little over an hour I can get from my house to a ski resort or mountain village and then depending on the season I just have to put on my touring skis, lace up my running shoes or mount my sturdy mountain bike and I can be off on another adventure. On Saturday morning I didn’t have much time since I knew my loving wife wouldn’t be very loving if I spent the whole day away. So I left the house early with my skiing gear and by 08.30 I was in the car-park of the local ski resort where we had held a night time race just one week ago. A quick change into a ski race suit, on with the boots and the climbing skins on the bottom of my skis. My i-pod blasting Pearl Jam into my ears and away I went up the piste. The weather was beautiful, sunny but cold. It had snowed for two days previously so the trees were coated with pristine white icing. Humming away, happy to be in my element I made my way up one of the side pistes without meeting a single skier. Only when I got near the top and in sight of the chair lift did I see anyone else, but this early in the morning there were really very few people. It’s a beautiful day as you can see.

As I reached the top I decided to make a change in my original plans of travesing along the ridge and instead to descend straight down under the chair lift. I asked a couple of guys coming off the lift what the decent looked like down there. They looked at me strange and said.” That’s off-piste.
“Duh, yeah that’s the idea dude”.
“Oh, well it looks like just one snowboard has been down there this morning”.
Great I’m thinking, all that fresh snow and just one snowboard before me. Thirty seconds later I’m carving my way through this white paradise. The snow is a bit heavier than I was expecting but with bit more effort I’m able to curve down the steep descent, avoiding the pilons and bombing a few small jumps. A number of people on the chairs going up look at me as if I’m mad. What do they know. I’m having fun. It finshes all too soon and I’m down at the chair entry. Back on with the skins and I’m soon going up again. Breathing hard, pushing my body upwards. I find myself smiling to myself – it just feels so good to be working hard on these white slopes. I’m soon back up on the ridgeline and I can’t resist taking this photo. You can see the ridgeline extend up to the antenna where I am now headed.

Ten minutes later I reach the antenna. Off with the skins, close the boots and down the forest path . I curve right on to the forest piste and just let my skis rip. A few minutes later I’ve reached the bottom. Back on with the skins, loosen the boots, change the music from Pearl Jam to Blink 182 and I’m ready for the steepness of this new climb. There’s another guy climbing up the piste on the other side but I pass him and quickly leave him behind. The climb is steep enough to warrant using the heel raisers but not so steep as to cause me any problems. Twenty minutes later I’m back at the top and even manage a little run for the last thirty meters.
Off with the skins and back down the same piste that I just climbed.
I’m running out of time so this time I start traversing back towards the parking area before climbing up again. This last climb is the steepest of all of them and I’m beginning to tire. Nevertheless I push myself hard and I’m soon back at the top. One last photo of this beautiful frosted tree and I race back down to the car.

A beautiful morning. One thousand meters of climbing, probably about 10km covered, but above all a great training session in an amazing place.

Schialp 2010

This year my sporting club decided to inaugurate a new sports section under the title of Sky-Alp. This sport is essentially the conversion of ski-mountaineering into a race with a number of climbs and descents in rapid succession. What better way could there be to inaugurate this new section than by organising a race. The venue was to be Schia (a local ski resort) the date was decided for Friday 5th February and since the idea was to have a night-race it was timed for 7.30 in the evening.
Naturally I decided to participate. In the days leading up to Friday it was already obvious that the weather was not going to be on our side. As I waited for some of my companions outside a shopping center on Friday evening, watching the frozen rain land on the asphalt, I was seriously questioning my desire to participate. It rained and snowed for the whole trip and the last steep kilometers up to the resort with snow lying on the road werea little hairy. As we arrived in the car park I was surprised to see a lot of people, much more than I was expecting considering the conditions. We had just half an hour to change into our ski boots, apply the climbing skins to our skis and walk over to the starting area. It was continuing to snow but instead of flakes we were being set upon by small balls of ice.

The Starting grid.

We all lined up in the starting grid and after a quick explanation of the course we were launched on our way by the starter.

Alex the organiser and starter.

I quickly settled into a good rythm – not too fast and not too slow. I let a number of people pass me and just stayed with my rythm. The visibility was ok for the first ten minutes but as we got higher it worsened and also my transparent glasses started misting up. Sooner than I realised we were passing the arrival of the ski lift and then up onto the ridge – less than twenty minutes which I was pleased about. The first part of the ridge was flat with some small descents but after about five minutes it started climbing again. I was in the company of a few other skiers and kept their pace. Finally we could see the fire torches marking the highest point and a minute later we had arrived. I released my skis, stripped the skins of the soles, folded them and put them in my back pockets. I closed my boots, inserted the rear support lock, clipped back into the skis and moved off down the path towards the piste. The first part of this descent was along a snow covered forestry path surrounded by trees. After thirty seconds of descent however we had to turn sharply right and begin the real descent. My headlamp which is great for night time running is not good for skiing at night – note to self, buy a new bigger headlamp for skiing. Luckily I had two other skiers in front of me and I was able to follow their curves down the mountain. Within a few minutes we could see the fire torches marking the end of the descent and a few seconds later we stopped in front of a mountain hut. Release the skis, prop them upright, quickly dry the soles, apply the skins, open up my boots, put the skis back on and I am ready to go. I had some other skiers some way up in front of me and I moved off in that direction. The path quickly became steep, quite a bit steeper than our first ascent. However I again settled into a steady rythm and began gaining some ground on those in front. The last part of the ascent was decidely steep and I can imagine that those with less than perfect technique may have suffered quite a bit. I caught the person just in front of me and we arrived together at the changing area lit up again by fire torches. I repeated the process of before, noticing however that the person who I had just caught was much quicker in those operations. He moved off down the piste into the darkness and I followed 30 seconds later – enough to not be able to see him. The descent was fairly straightforward and so I didn’t worry too much about any curves and just let the skis race down the slope.

The Finish Line.

As I entered into the last part of the descent around a large corner the slope in front of me was lit up so I was crouched down into a race position and let it rip. Just ten seconds later I crossed the finish line as everybody waved me into the correct area and encouraged me to slow down. A huge braking movement and I had arrived. 63’ 20”, 25th out of 42.

Happy to have finished.

I fely pretty good about that until they told me that the first guy had arrived in 36’ and the first girl in 42’. My friend Katia, 3rd woman and also happy to have finished.

The evening finished with a huge pasta party in the local mountain hut. A fitting end to a great evening.

Arolla to Zermatt Part 3 - Breithorn

We were up early the next morning after having slept in real beds for the first time since we left Italy five days previously. After a great swiss breakfast consisting of gigantic portions of cheese, ham and bread all washed down with litres of coffee we grabbed our skis and rucsacs and made our way out to the station to catch the first train down to Zermatt. In front of us, on the other side of the valley, the three peaks of the Breithorn covered in white snow sparkled in the morning sunshine. Once we arrived in Zermatt we quickly walked through the vehicle free streets towards the cable car station. What a difference to be able to walk in the street of a ski mecca without having to avoid cars and be able to breathe pure mountain air. The swiss, as always attentive to questions of ecology and pollution, have allowed the village of Zermatt to ban any traffic within over. The only transport whether for people or merchandise is by electric cars. Transport to and from Zermatt is by train and for those wishing to use their cars there is a large parking area in the last station before Zermatt.
Despite the lateness of the season there are still numerous skiers queing for the cable car – enjoying the last skiing days of the season. We bundle into the cabin with the others and are quickly projected up the mountain to the lowest of the ski slopes. A second cabin takes us up to the Kleine Matterhorn station at about 3400m. For most people this is their highest point and the majority of the occupants of the cabin are quickly skiing downwards. We are bound upwards. After having put on our skis and shouldered our packs we move off away from the ski-pistes towards the flanks of the Breithorn mountain. Our objective is Breithorn West which is the closest of the three peaks and the easiest, particularly with skis. There are a few other groups of people following our same route but the last five days of continuous climbing and descending over 3000 meters have acclimatised our bodies to the rarified atmosphere and we quickly distance them. We climb rapidly, chatting, admiring the splendid scenery which opens before our eyes. Before long we arrive on steeper slopes and the hard snow gives way to hard, wind packed ice where our climbing skins start to slip. We stop briefly to pull out our climbing blades and fix them on to our skis. With these sharp teeth we can continue to climb even these steep icy slopes. When we arrive just below the ridge there is a small cornice which creates some difficulties for us but we are soon on top.

There are now only a few hundred meters to the top of the mountain but we will have to leave our skis here. The ridge is narrow and although we could probably climb up to the top with the skis on it would be too risky to ski back down. We pull out our ice-axes and follow each other along the narrow ridge. Here on top of the mountain at over 4000 meters the previously blue skies are replaced by high clouds and fog blown by the wind.

Finally we arrive on top and we can enjoy the solitude of this high place until the other parties arrive. Marco, as usual, shoots off numerous rolls of film while Robi and I alternate at being models and just enjoying the moment. When the first members of another party arives on top we ask them the favour of taking a photo of the three of us. From five days and thousands of photos this is the only one where the three of us can be seen together.

We quickly make our way back down the ridge to where we left the skis. The climbing blades and skins are quickly removed, our ski boots are tightened, the ski bindings are fixed into the descending postion and we are ready to enjoy our last descent. The first few meters down from the ridge and over the cornice are a little heartstopping but we are soon carving rapid curves down the slopes. The skis jump and rattle on the ice but we have no problem to control them and enjoy the sensation of our rapid descent. As the ice gives way to hard snow the skiing becomes even more pleasurable and our cuves can become tighter and more rapid. Before we know it we are back at the Kleine Matterhorn station and swallowed back into the crowds of skiers on the pistes.
Our trip is finished. Very soon we’ll return to Italy and our normal lives. We smile at each other and observe the slopes of the Breithorn before turning round and following the piste back downwards towards Zermatt.

Arolla to Zermatt Part 2 - Dent d'Heren and Cervino

The next day would be the most beautiful part of our tour. Starting early in the morning we traversed again the glacier leading back upwards towards the Tete Blanche, however now instead of gaining it’s broad summit we deviated to the east and began heading towards the Dent d’Heren. Having reached a magnificent crest we have spent the best hours of the morning skiing slopes in front of a magnificent backdrop of the Dent d’Heren while Marco shot off rolls of film. Here is a photo of Robi during one of the descents.
After having whetted our skiing appetites we have moved on, skiing further down the glaciated valley before traversing up again to find ourselves in front of the magnificent north face of the Matterhorn (or Cervino in Italian). The next series of photos do not make any sense since they were taken purely for photographic purposes and do not document our movements. However they show the beauty of our surroundings so well that they have to be included.
Our sojourn in front of the Matterhorn was finished off with a series of skiing photos, one of which I have included here showing Robi attacking a steep slope in fresh snow.
We were having so much fun that we didn’t want to leave but we had to reach Zermatt before the evening so we continued skiing down the large morenic valley, the Matterhorn on our right hand side but slowly being left behind.
Finally we reached the locality of Biel and from there we skiied easily down to Zmutt on snow covered lanes. At that point it was only one kilometer to Zermatt but we had to load our skis on to our rucsacs and walk it in.
In Zermatt the Swiss tourist bard had agreed to put us up in the Gornergrat hotel. This magnificent eighteenth century hotel is nestled up in the mountains way above Zermatt at 3090 metres and also hosts one of the most famous European astronomical laboratories where many Italian, German and Swiss astronomers study and live for much of the winter season. To get there we have to take the cog wheel train which winds its way up the flanks of the mountain before depositing us in the small station in front of the hotel with a n incredible view of the Breithorn range. This would be our objective for the next day and our last ascent before returning home.

From Arolla to Zermatt Part 1

This is the first part of a trilogy. It tells the story of a six day odyssey in the Swiss Alps with two close friends, one of whom is a professional photographer. Marco had been comissioned to take a series of photos for a touring book, and other photos for the Swiss Tourism Board which comprised part of the famous Chamonix – Zermatt trail. Since he needed to take numerous cameras and uncountable quantities of photographic film (these cameras which take 180° shots don’t use digital equipment), plus he needed some models to add some human interest he asked Robi and myself to join him. For us it was a no boner, 6 days in the mountains, on skis, in some of the most beautiful mountains in the world, all paid for by the Swiss tourist board.
We all met up in Milano Central Station, at the agreed time, early one late spring morning. I must say we attracted some pretty strange looks – dressed up for the mountains, skis and boots strapped onto our large rucsacks while the Milanese commuters rushed to work, already displaying the best of the Spring/Summer fashion collection. Jut enough time to purchase rail tickets for Brig in Switzerland, a walk down the platform and we were bound for Switzerland. As we arrived in Brig we already looked more like part of the scenery and we quickly found the local “post” bus which would take us to Arolla.
The early afternoon found us in the small ski resort of Arolla. Boots and skis on our feet, climbing skins under the skis and rucsacks on our backs. The walk up to the mountain hut (Cabanne de Dix – 2928m) through the Pas des Chevres (Goat Pass), which would serve us our first resting point would only take us a few hours. The rest of the evening was spent in small chat, anticipating the great days in front of us, while we listened to the babble of German voices around us, an occassional French voice was heard but we wouldn’t hear anymore Italian except for our own voices for the rest of the trip.
The next morning found us in front of the hut, applying the thawed out skins to the bottom of our frozen skis, while the sun struggled to make it’s appearance behind the scudding clouds. It didn’t look like it was going to be a good day for ski-touring, or for photography, but we had a schedule to stick to so we headed out across the glacier towards our first objective of the day, the Pigne D’Arolla. Leaving the towering Mont Blanc de Cheilon (3870m) on our right we quickly gained the slopes of the Pigne. A beautiful pyramid with perfect skiing slopes. Sweating under the heavy rucsacks we climbed rapidly, leaving the majority of other skiiers behind us and by 10 o’clock we were already on the top of the peak – 3790m. Despite the clouds and grey skies we had a beautiful 360° view, mountains and glaciers in every direction. Unfortunately the light was not good for photography, so after a brief rest we removed the skins, tightened our boots and ski-bindings and set off down the other side. The surface of the snow was a little icy at first but we soon reached some better slopes where we could enjoy the sensation of curving and speeding down the immaculate white slopes. A couple of hours later we had already reached the Cabanne des Vignettes (3160m) our second resting point.
The next day found us traversing the Glacier du Mont Collon under blue but windy skies. Our rucasacs were heavier than the previous day since we had picked up supplies which would see us through the next two days, and one night to be spent in a bivouac hut. Here you can see Roberto and myself as we walk across this large glaciated area. Our path took us through a wide gap between Mont Collon 3637m and Petit Mont Collon 3556m and then upwards towards the Becca d’Oren where we briefly passed back into Italy. The slopes of this mountain are ideal for skiing so we spent a few hours going up and down the slopes while Marco snapped photos of us. The mountain which can be seen in the background is L’Eveque (The Bishop) 3716m. As the afternoon drew on we traversed back into Switzerland through the Col Collon and descended down across the Haut Glacier d’Arolla towards the bivouac hut which would serve as our base for the night. Inside we found the hut already occupied by quite a number of other skiers but we quickly found a space and three bunks for ourselves. A frugal meal, some conversation with the other occupants who are all heading the same way as us tomorrow, but they will be in Zermatt by the evening, whereas we won’t arrive there for another two days due to our various photographic appointments.
We are the last to leave the hut the next morning. Todays photographs will all be in the late afternoon and early evening on top of the Tete Blanche so there is no need to hurry. We pay for this laziness in the heat and blinding reflection of sun on white snow during the early afternoon, as we slog our way across the Haut Glacier de Tsa de Tsan bound for the Col des Bouquetins and from there to the top of Tete Blanche 3710m. When we finally reach the top we lose ourselves in an orgy of photographs. The view is amazing. All around us we can see mountain peaks and there in the distance the king of all of them – the Matterhorn. His pointed crown points to the sky. Close up the mountain is a disintegrating heap of limestone but it is exactly this which has given it the classical pyramidal shape and why countless thousands of mountaineers have found glory or defeat upon its flanks. From a distance it is magnificent, and alone on top of our mountain we contemplate its beauty and majesty.
After shooting the final photos in the setting sun light we ski down the other side and direct our skis towards the Cabanne de Bertol 3311m where we arrive in the dark. Tomorrow we shall ski under the Matterhorn and then onwards to Zermatt.

Yes, he's a skier!

I’ve done it. Finally this year I’ve managed to teach my six year old son to ski. First of all you have to know that my wife and I are avid skiers – I’d better clarify that – we don’t actually like skiing in ski areas with lifts and pistes etc. but we are crazy abour ski mountaineering(I’ll be doing some posts about this later on with some amazing photos). That’s the kind of skiing where you pick a mountain, walk up it with skis and climbing skins, enjoy the invariably incredible view on the way up and on the top, and then ski back down. All of this without seeing more than maybe ten people (though sometimes none at all) in the whole day. Now we use to able to do this every weekend for the whole winter season and through most of Spring – until of course when Elia arrived which kind of put paid to that kind of activity. So we’ve got big plans to get him doing the same thing in the future but first of all he has to learn to ski and to do that we need to use the ski areas with lifts and pistes and people etc.
So a couple of years ago when he was four and a half we decided to make the first attempt. We booked a week in a Family Hotel (specially organised hotels ideal for families) in Santa Cristina, Val Gardena which is in Northern Italy. The idea was for him to have lessons with a ski instrutor every morning and then, if he was still up to it, to do some skiing in the afternoon with us. The first morning we got him dressed, ski suit, helmet, goggles, boots. I know……………. doesn’t he look cute!
He’s looking less cute in this one because he’s realising that he’s about to be abandoned to the mercies of the ski instructors. I’m still trying to look confident.
When the bus arrived the crisis exploded. He definitely didn’t want to get on the bus, he didn’t want to ski, and he didn’t want to get separated from his parents. I ended up putting him into the bus in what probably looked like an All Blacks scrumming practice. We could still hear him shouting and crying as the bus drew away. We also drove up to the same ski area in the car but since the ski instructor had asked all of the parents to keep away from the school area we went to ski on the other side of the mountain but where we could still see the piste where they were having their lesson (we could also hear him (yes him, not them). He was not enjoying it. We went and picked him up at midday, as we had been instructed. “How was it?” – No answer , very non commital. We had some lunch and actually convinced him to do some more descents on the school piste during the afternoon. OK, maybe he is actually getting the hang of it. The next morning we experienced the exact same reaction – crisis, tears, howls – me bundling him into the bus like a Maori tight end. Not good. The rest of the day went like the first. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all. The third day was an absolute refusal and we couldn’t face having to force him into the bus a third time. OK, we’ll go skiing together – who cares about the € 200 of ski lessons I had aleady paid for. So for the next three days we skiied in the morning – skiied!! We descended various easy pistes with Elia in tow – sometimes enjoying, sometimes complaining but invariably refusing to go beyond the morning. The afternoon was dedicated to other activities – the hotel’s organised play area for him, running and sauna for us. Though he did enjoy the tobogganing afternoon we organised. And so the week ended with very little progress having been made.
Last year passed by without any possibility to go skiing. As this year came round and it started snowing in early december we thought that it was the time to make it or break it. For a first try out we went to a local ski station (just over an hour away in the Appenine mountains) and spent most of the day together on the school piste, though we did convince him to do a couple of descents on a blue piste (any progress is to be taken with open arms). Then at the beginning of the year we decided to take four days holiday in the western Alps (Bardonecchia, Val di Susa) where we would be together with some other friends who have similarly aged kids. Well, let me tell you – it was a huge success! Four days of perfect skiing – let’s say about 5 hours a day and by the end of it all of the kids were flying down the red pistes and whistling while they did it. So much so that we never even got the chance to take any pictures. We followed that up with another day session at the local ski area and I can safely say that my son is now a skier. Now I’m not saying that he’s a champion, or he’s going to win any medals but we are definitely on our way and for the time being I’ll take anything I can get.
Now where can I find a small pair of mountaineering skis and boots???