Final Statistics

The final stats have been calculated;

Total elevation climbed      17800ft

Total distance                     55miles (88 km)

Max Speed skied               35mph (55kph)

The GPS files for the last 4 days can be found on http://connect.garmin.com/  ; sign with username "skimadness" and password "johnny".

 

Final Day.. Wednesday 31 March 2010 

Early start again despite the short day to catch the  least of the bad weather. We had about a 2 hour skin,  in relatively good conditions. After 20 minutes 2 French alpinistes passed us and decided they knew a better route than Fred. A short while later I noticed them some way behind.

As we skinned over 2 frozen lakes Fred pointed out a concrete bunker in the rocks above. He explained this was part of the ill-conceived Maginot line.  When we heard a mirage fighter provide the welcome sound of freedom, he told us of the heavy fighting in this area at the end of the last war. Both sides used bombers in an attempt to start avalanches as a weapon.

Then we saw a puma helicopter, probably transporting some of the foreign legionnaires we'd met earlier. As it passed us I fancied I caught a wistful look from Johnny, with a stifled cry, 'I’m here, over here'. Seriously though, John has moved considerably higher for me in the respect stakes. Notwithstanding he is a QWI, he has demonstrated herculean strength managing this epic challenge with his gammy knee.

The last part of our exped was pure pleasure as we skied the lower half of Col de Glabier, of Tour de France fame. I must have improved as this was my first day without a fall. As we finally reached the road below, Fred’s dad arrived and drove us to the bus station in his very shabby, but welcome, Fiat Panda.

It only remains to pay tribute to our families for allowing us to undertake this challenge and to all those, like you, who have provided such great support and made generous donations for such a worthy cause. Of course, our guide demands special mention; we asked Top Ski and Fred in particular, for an expedition that would challenge us. The conditions made it really difficult to design a tour that was safe, and Fred had to frequently replan on the hoof. We owe a huge debt of thanks to Fred for delivering a challenge that took us to the limit of our ability. Thank you very much for following this blog and your support.

 

Tuesday 30 March 2010

We're starting to get into the hut routine now. We arrive and remove the synthetic skins being careful to keep the glue as dry as possible. Then it's removing the sodden boot inners and placing them, with the skins, near the central wood burner that each hut has in the eating area. Then it's off to find a bunk and changing out of the sweat drenched base layer and into the dried base layer from yesterday.
 
The forecast for today was shocking so our roommates didn't show, giving us space to move, but ensuring the room temperature remained just above freezing. The two other groups in the hut decided there was no other option but to descend today.
 
Fred's advice was that we could cope with low visibility in the cloud and we could cope with snow, but both together would be dangerous. The reason is that snow brings avalanche risk so we need tight navigation: in the cloud we could be a few hundred meters in error and that could take us into the danger zone of an unsafe slope. Unfortunately for us, the forecast was for low visibility all day accompanied by 40cm of snow with 80km winds thrown in. The decision was that we would get up at 0600 and set off, at least to the first of the three cols that were on our route. If the weather proved to be as bad as forecast we could always turn round.
 
When we left the other folk in the hut thought we were joking. And so began our hardest day. The visibility was initially a few hundred metres, the snow fall was light and we made good progress up to the first col at 2800m with a 50ish kph cross wind. We elected to push on to the second col, which was our point of no return.
 
The weather steadily deteriorated as we went. The snow was still light but visibility had dropped to about 20m, reducing to about 5m in the gusts of wind that would whip the snow up. By now the gusts at our altitude were very strong, perhaps approaching 100kph.
 
The weather slowed us down but, when we reached the second col, the snow was still only falling lightly  (if that makes any sense in brutal winds), so we committed to the route.
 
On the way up to this point, on four separate occasions I skinned past small birds that lay dead or dying in the snow. I asked Fred about them and he replied simply that the wind and cold was too much for them.
 
By now we had climbed at least 2/3 of yesterday's total but in considerably worse conditions and the pain was starting to tell. I could feel that the small blister on my heel had burst and every muscle ached. I knew that Kos had a considerably bigger blister and he wasn't complaining so the only thing to do was press on.
 
In the poor visibility there is no scope to choose the best line so we just kept the skins on and skied down small gullies with heels free, or skinned up little mounds. Often we crossed rocky outcrops because the rocks stabilize the snow, reducing avalanche risk. On one of these, carrying the skis, the snow collapsed under my knackered knee, causing it to twist badly. I felt ill, the leg was trembling, and the pain and weakness in the knee was pretty severe. Over the next two hours I just wasn't able to protect it adequately and I fell on it at least half a dozen more times.
 
The middle section between the second and third col seemed to take forever to cross. Finally, about 6 hours after leaving the hut (without a break because of the conditions) we started to climb steadily upwards. With about 100m vertical to go, the slope started to become ever steeper. By now it was snowing heavily but, with the wind and the steepness of the slope, we were having to dig the edges in to grip the icy surface. Kos was really struggling with this. We couldn't see what was below because of the visibility but it was clearly going to be a long slide with the possibility of cliffs below.
 
With about 50m vertical to go the slope became too steep for skis. We kicked out a platform to stand on and strapped the skis to the rucksacks. This was my worst point because I know nothing about climbing. Fred pretty well ran up the slope to check it out but, by the time Kos and I were ready to start the climb, his steps had disappeared in the snow. I found it hard to kick steps into the icy slope with my worthless knee. It was also a really tiring climb and, all the time, there was the blind drop below. The steps that I was cutting were collapsing when Kos followed so he was having an equally exciting experience.
 
When we reached the top Fred had become pretty concerned about the amount of snow that was accumulating. Everything he says is understated so, when he declared "we need to get off this slope fast", it was clear that the heart rate wasn't going to decline soon. Needless to say, in the flat light, deep powder (on this side) and with the steep slope we failed miserably to stick to the 'ski fast and don't fall' brief. Happily the steep section was only about 100m vertical and we were soon back to our beloved push, traverse, and push routine.
We reached tonight's hut just under 8 hours after leaving last night's hut and fired into our now familiar routine. Only the smell gets worse!
 
Tomorrow should be a much easier day. The forecast is not so bad and the climb is less than 50% of todays. It will be interesting to see what the other train passengers make of us.
 
Final word for Fred. The guy is super human and there's no doubt that we could not have done this safely without his constant attention and care. His feel for the mountain is humbling to watch.

Monday 29 March 2010 

Shockingly cold night in the refuge. No heating and strangely, every time I awoke, I could hear my oppo snoring away.

Shaken awake by Fred at 0640 we stumbled to breakfast with the legionnaires... It’s a good thing we can't blog smells because even on day 3 there are some shocking ones floating around - I hadn’t realised there'd be no running water but strangely Johnny doesn't seem to mind.

We set off for the conquest of Mount Thabor pushing for 45 mins before fitting the skins. Then came an epic 3000ft+ ascent. Today was my mucker's turn to be working hard and his low point came when Fred corrected him in that the top was not 2900m as Johnny thought, but actually 3100m... My low point came when I fell over just standing outside a church near the top and covered my hand and arm in snow with a wind chill factor of -15. Johnny was then apparently annoyed with me as I took Fred’s advice and looked inside the church. A fine example of an 18th century Savoyard pilgrim's chapel. After a minor wobble on setting off I actually managed to fall only once! Although it was another spectacular head plant - very thankful for my helmet!

Going down was much more pleasant than the ascent, apart from the moment Fred asked us to move off the outcrop we were all standing on as he'd just felt the slab move. Johnny led us back for the final skin at a blistering pace and we made the refuge in good time.

Tonight we have to share our tiny 8 man room... But at least it might be warmer (last night was 3 Celsius). Tomorrow the forecast is again exceptionally poor, but Fred says if it’s bad, that's ok, but if it’s snowing heavily and we can't see then we'll turn around and come back. But we are going to try anyway... I have loaded all 19 waypoints into my gps and the last time I was so prepared our plans changed completely. We're now waiting for dinner, looking at the white-out through the window and for once I wish I could play canasta....

Sunday 28 March 2010

Last night's hut was small but friendly: the hut keeper jabbered away all night with stories in French. The meal was very French - four courses accompanied by wine. Definitely better than Kos' repeated pasta dishes. After dinner he produced an unmarked bottle that was described as "the French whiskey". It was obviously nothing like it. Apparently it was Ginepy which is, I was told, part of the same family as Absinthe, but "pas le meme effect". I could still taste it every time I was working hard (which was most of the day)!  I could have done without the clocks going forward. That turned an uncomfortably early start into a rudely early start.
 
I'm starting to get the hang of Fred's expressions. This morning with 60kph head winds he stated it would be a little cold - I knew exactly what he meant having stood out in it for 10 mins last night to e-mail the blog and nearly got frostbite!
 
All reports this morning were of impassable slopes and the highest level of avalanche risk. Even our absolutely certain back up was reported by another guide as too dangerous. Nevertheless we didn't have another option so we set off to check. Fred declared we would be skiing to the base of the pass. However, the only difference between skiing and skinning seems to be that we push with the skins off!  We skied across to the base of the pass and, sure enough, it was a big avalanche waiting to happen. We had a long chat in a nearby hut where the available porcelain made it clear that I'd made the wrong choice to use the outside hole in the floor at the previous place. With the windblown snow swirling round my legs.

On the way down we had more of Fred's avalanche scale. When he first asked us to ski 10m apart I recognised he was saying there is an avalanche risk. The next level is when he asks us to maintain "at least 20m spacing". The next level, this morning, was "ski, one at a time, across the whole slope and ski quickly and don't fall". The final level, later this morning, was "I would prefer it if you go first". I think this last term means it’s almost certain to avalanche and it'll be quicker for me to get to you if I'm above!

We looked at options to the east and west but every avenue came to a dead end for one reason or another. There were no other options, so we skied (pushed) down to the valley. When we reached the bottom we made a new plan. Fred had spoken to dozens of hut keepers and made a mental map of the conditions. The really heavy snow falls were to the north between us and our planned destination so we would go south and take the train home at the end of day 5.
It was clear that if we'd been a day further on we would have been snowed in at the hut for several days. So, in fact, we were lucky. It took me about 20 mins of the unending skin up to the hut on the new route to feel that we were anything but lucky!
 
A final thought for my buddy. He hit the wall about 2 hours into the climb and I watched him suffer a lot through the last 90 mins. However, there wasn't a single word of complaint.
 
Tomorrow morning's forecast is good so we're on an early start to climb the highest mountain in the area.

 

Saturday 27 March 2010

This was our earliest start; we packed the car with the things we didn't need and handed back the keys to the apartment, then took the first bus and waited at the cable car station for the lift to open. At least half of the 20 or so folk on that first lift looked pretty serious, but no one had packs our size and no one was climbing up as high as us. Transiting between lifts it became evident just how heavy the packs were - each time I bent my knees for the turn the weight felt huge. The only thing cheering me up was the fact that Kos' pack was a least a couple of kilos heavier than mine.  By the time we got to the top of the last lift there was only the lift attendant watching us fit the skins.
 
The weather was kind to us. There was a moody atmosphere with low cloud swirling round the ridges, but the light was good and the wind wasn't too strong. About 5 minutes into the climb Kos' ski crampon burst apart.  I stopped him, surprised he hadn't noticed, only to look down and see that one of mine had broken off too. Not a great start. The Col de l'Ouille Noire was impressive in the light. There was just enough space to get the skins off and prepare for the descent.  It started steep but Fred had chosen a manageable route (for us) that involved a lot of traversing across a large empty plateau. The solitude and beauty of the place was fantastic. The weather remained reasonable all the way down to our lunch stop in the valley. The deep powder and long traverses were pretty knackering. It was disappointing to hear Kos tell me "It's good to see you working hard for a change" - I guess it was showing.
 
Over lunch the weather turned and the forecast snow and wind arrived. They are forecasting 50cm of fresh snow this afternoon and overnight. There are even thunder storms in the forecast!  In his understated way Fred noted that "it's snowing hard now".  I was pretty relieved not to be navigating in the cloud and snow. As the terrain got steeper, Kos got stuck trying to make the turn. His appeal for help was met by my getting the camera out. His turns seemed to improve after that. It's interesting how context affects things. When the hut finally appeared out of the mist it seemed significantly more welcoming than any 5 star hotel that I've seen.
 
The new snow is going to make tomorrow difficult. There is a very high avalanche risk now so the route needs to be chosen with care. It's also going to be harder to skin up through the deep snow. Hopefully there will be a break in the clouds.

 

Friday 26 March 2010

This was our last day of training and with instructions from Fred to take it easy, we decided to look at doing ‘Le Face’ black run on Bellevarde. I say “we” but of course I mean Johnny. The alternative (to him) was an ‘easy’ off-piste ski in the woods under a chair lift (in full view of lots of people), which he had also been pushing hard. Even as we were on the first lift the conditions were deteriorating and the Face was a non-starter, although I was psychologically ready (and as always, behind Johnny), Johnny simply skied past the entry.

We went higher to look for better conditions and didn’t really find any, so having decided today would be a half day anyway we started down and took in part of his easy under-the-chairs run. By the time we started it was a real blizzard and in really flat light nothing was fun, so we returned to the apartment to carry out the final prep and packing for tomorrow. Finishing up with both of us soaking wet, the morning proved an excellent test of our equipment, some of which was kindly provided by Cotswold Outdoor.

After a few hours and a luxury baguette and cheese lunch, the snow subsided and the sky was blue. However, I was shocked to discover that Johnny was not interested in any more skiing and seemed to be broodily mourning the loss of a sock in the wash (he blames me). I managed to convince him that the powder would be worth it and it really was. It was probably some of the best off-piste conditions we’d seen so far and I was very pleased to have my Garmont boots, which were very comfortable throughout. We were probably some of the last off the slope today and Johnny was itching to go off-piste on some difficult terrain, but I managed to convince him otherwise.

According to the forecast it looks like more snow tomorrow, so I’m hoping we’ll be well on our way before it starts. On our Rucksack content-check with Fred at Top Ski (the excellent guide company we are using) he told us to take out the heavy bivvy bags but otherwise we passed. They do seem rather heavy though (I have to work out how to put my crampons and ice-axe on Johnny’s bag without him looking). So tonight we celebrate with another home-cooked wholesome pasta meal, nothing in the refuges will be able to match it (some of you will know my favourite is pasta and ketchup!). Having mentioned taking great care over our prep and packing Johnny has just come back from last orders at the shop with the wrong batteries for his avalanche transceiver… and he’s a Harrier QWI!!!


Thursday 25 March 2010

Difficult to know what to do this morning – the snow was hard packed and frozen higher up with an overcast creating flat light into the bargain.  Lower down it was frozen slush and rotten waterlogged snow.  Kos rejected my play to ski off-piste under the forest cutouts for the chair lifts, despite my assuring him “it’s easy” and appealing for him to “trust me”….   We ended up on the frozen moonscape above with skis slipping on a hard packed surface then slamming into invisible mounds of windblown powder.  Maybe Kos will listen next time!  The big win this morning was discovering the key to stop him faffing (at which he is an Olympic gold medalist) – I pointed out that we’d have to miss lunch because the supermarket would be shutting in 50 minutes and he skied the return in a world record non-faffing 40 minutes.

The afternoon was our second and last training afternoon with Fred.  It was all a bit serious; there is definitely a big match atmosphere building in the lead up to Saturday morning’s departure.  On the way up to the glacier there was lots of chat about things like putting new batteries in the avalanche transceivers or what kit was allowed in the packs.  A long session of avalanche training followed with buried packs, correct use of transceivers, probes and the exact technique for digging out the casualty.  He did come out with a comment that there was good news in that we would have the huts to ourselves - everyone else has cancelled because of the conditions and weather forecast.

On the way back we skied a long off piste run.  The snow was good higher up but became gradually slushier as we descended.  Not far from the bottom the snow turned into waterlogged rotten snow that only supports the skis if you’re moving fast and very light on your feet.  I made a comment to Kos about not wanting to fall here because it would be a shocker to get back up, then looked over my shoulder to see him lying in waterlogged snow up to his waist.  In fairness that was his only fall all day – just not a good spot!

This evening the big match build up atmosphere has continued.  How many sets of batteries do we need to see the GPSs through 5 days (we’re likely to need them if the weather forecast is to be believed), how many base layers are optimum under the jackets that W L Gore kindly donated, should we get the skis serviced before going….?  Tomorrow looks set to be much of the same – “don’t ski too much tomorrow” were Fred’s departing words – I think he’s telling us in his own kind way that we’re going to need all the energy we’ve got!

Our Challenge

Ski mountaineering is about travelling between and climbing high mountains in winter away from the ski resort lift systems.  We are planning a 5-day expedition that will be linked with nights in high altitude mountain refuges.  We will travel using special skis that can free the heel binding so that we can 'walk' uphill in the skis.  We will fit synthetic 'skins' to the base of the skis to allow the ski to slide forward but grip against the snow when we push back.  Most of each day will involve 'skinning' uphill to the tops of the mountains.  Once there we remove the skins, clip in the heel and ski to the base of the next mountain.  The skiing will all be off-piste so we will need to manage difficult snow conditions and often steep narrow routes.  Good navigation is essential for safety because we're way off-piste for the whole 5 days and there is a real avalanche and crevasse risk. Check out the second picture for a vertical profile of the challenge....

  The expedition that we have planned is a part of BAE Systems’ Charity Challenge.  This year’s charity is The Army benevolent Fund, which is a very worthwhile cause.  We will pay the full costs of the expedition ourselves, so all of the money that we raise will go to the charity.  Any funds raised through this event is eligible for supplementary funding by BAE Systems.  Pete climbed in 2 years ago and raised £4500 for Macmillan Cancer Support.  We hope to better that sum this winter with our expedition.