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Haute Route 2022
Background to the Haute Route Journey
I booked this tour for a combination of reasons. I have grand ambitions of climbing the Matterhorn and Mont Blanc, as well as summiting many other European mountains. If I can do it on skis, then, very well. My ski touring experience is limited to a couple of days in Zermatt, Argentiere, and the Lake District. I did not have the required experience many websites requested with hut-to-hut ski touring. I had planned for that, and had a training trip booked a few years ago, but Covid put an end to that. Thankfully, John Crook understood when I told him and he was willing to take a risk on me. I knew I would be able to cope with the skiing, and with my running fitness, I should be able to maintain pace. It was my touring technique that left me nervous, but I am a quick learner and was willing to improve. A lot of my kit was second hand and I was concerned my skins were the only ones amongst our group that I had ever seen without a tail clip… Should I have made one, and attached it…? The jury was out.
Arrival Day
I arrived in Chamonix on the 11th of April and went for a run – It was the best way to calm my nerves. I picked my route carefully: I chose the end section of the CCC, which I will run in August, so it was a good recce too. That evening, I met John and the rest of the team who were all very amenable people… I was very relieved. However, I was apprehensive when it became clear that I was the one with the least experience by some distance. I barely slep that night, worried about my kit, my lack of experience, and a little daunted at being so far out of my comfort zone, for the first time in a very long time.
12th April – Prep Day – Italian ‘Vallée Blanche’
We met at 8am at L’Aguille du Midi. This was reassuringly familiar; I had done the Vallée Blanche already, so knew what to expect. We ascended the Midi listening to guide John telling us about all the lines we could ski off the front if we wanted. These were the first of many ski lines that were all graded “deathly” or “death” by my new companions.
We attached crampons and helmets, hooked on to the rope, and headed down the ridge established by the mountain guides in the winter.
We spent more time than we had anticipated just faffing, which would soon become all too familiar: there were going to be a lot of long transitions of changing equipment over; eventually, John the guide took us in search of powder in the Vallée. After about 10 minutes it was time for another transition as we were to skin up to the Italian side of the Vallée Blanche. The skin took an hour and being on the glacier, we were roped up. It was a very pressurising situation: to hold your place in the line without holding anyone up. I soon found my touring technique was weak, I was lifting my feet too much, and expelling too much energy. I was struggling to cope, felt the pressure and my morale deflated.
Thankfully, the ski down from the Italian side was great, we found powder and skied amongst the crevasses of the Mer de Glace. I found my skis were pretty inadequate on the flats and in need of warm wax, something I would be able to fix that evening. As we travelled down the Mer de Glace, we listened to the many rockfalls from the surrounding lateral moraine falling onto the glacier. You could never see the rockfalls but could hear them all the time, an eerie reminder that danger was almost around the corner. The last 50m was done on foot to reach the public entrance of the glacier, before climbing the hundreds of stairs up to the train station.
The climb up was a tangible impact of climate change as we gasped at the levels the glacier had dropped in just a few short years. When I was last in Chamonix in 2019, the glacier was about 30m below its current position and several hundred meters below where it would have been 30 years ago. The retreat of the glacier was very sobering.
We climbed aboard the train which would return us to Chamonix, and nerves began to set in about all the packing, or lack of packing required to survive the next week. An immediate problem had become apparent. Due to carrying only 1 water bottle, I had run out of water and developed a migraine and so decided that I needed an extra bottle so that I had 1.5l of water each day.
- Chargers for phone, Garmin watch, and Go Pro
- Hard Shell trousers
- Hard Shell Jacket
- 2 Baselayers
- Thermal Jacket
- Down Jacket
- T-Shirt for Hut
- Shorts for Hut
- Overtrousers for Hut
- Socks for Hut
- Toothbrush
- Toothpaste
- Soap Sample
- Vaseline Sample
- Gore-Tex Gloves
- Kalenji Running Gloves
- Helmet
- I did decide to go with just one pair of ski socks due to the fact that the other pair of socks I had were creating a numbness in my foot.
That evening we panic bought essential bits of kit in the town and much later that night I was ready and packed with the following kit in my bag:
13th April – Haute Route Day 1 – Grand Montets to Albert Premier I Refuge
We met at the base of the Grand Montets in full-on Spring. It was a different world to the one I saw 5 weeks previously with piles of snow everywhere. We ascended the lifts and set off for our first skin up to col just below L’Aiguille des Grands Montets. Due to a gas leak in the Refuge d’Argentière, we had a last-minute change of plan and headed to the Refuge Albert Premiere I over the Col du Passon.
From a distance, the 700m skin followed by the final boot pack up the Col du Passon, looked like a daunting prospect. In fact, getting off the Argentière Glacier would prove the most challenging part. In the heat of the day, the snow was melting and we boot-packed up the snow that fell on the lateral moraine. Carrying a pack and skis, meant that those of us with a larger combined weight at the back of the group found ourselves falling through the snow. At one stage I was up to my waist and Simon behind me proclaimed his nipples were in danger.
Skinning up worked well and my technique improved, so that I no longer felt like I was hanging on to the group. After a short lunch stop halfway up, we made it to the col in a couple of hours. Crampons, ice axe in one hand and pole in the other, skis on the pack, and march to the top. The ascent soon became less daunting than it looked. The crampons on boots provided such stability that the threat of falling was minimal. In fact, the greatest danger now was having someone else stand on your hand. 20 minutes later, we rested at the top, inhaled the views, and prepared ourselves for the descent to the hut. A powder ski down the Glacier du Tour bowl provided amazing conditions, but as always there was a sting in the tail before you get to the hut: a short but steep 20-minute skin and traverse in deteriorating conditions meant accessing the refuge was difficult work. We arrived hot and exhausted.
The reception from the staff at the hut was frosty, to say the least. All sharps (ice axe, crampons, etc..) had to be left in a basket downstairs. The receptionist made life as difficult as possible for us, clearly annoyed at having to open early because of the gas leak in the other hut. We found there was no running water in the hut, even though there was a spring at the end of the building. This also meant that the “Long Drop” at the end of the building were disabled with no water. The smell was pretty horrendous. Thankfully, my digestive system got the memo, and I avoided the long drop like the plague; some of the females returned horrified: using adjectives such as “stench”, “worst ever”, and “revolting”. Anyway, bonus points for the refuge were that it had a mobile signal and the most fantastic sunset and sunrise over Chamoix and Le Tour. Dinner was 5 bowls of vegetable soup (good for rehydration), chicken and couscous, followed by apple compote. Our room was comfortable and had dividers between the wide, shared bunk beds, although this had little comfort when, at 11 pm, two French men crawled into bed at 11 pm and took the extra duvet I was using for a pillow. We got our heads down early, not only were we shattered, but were booked in for a 6.30 breakfast in the hope we would be ready for a 7.30 am leave in the morning.
14th April – Haute Route Day 2 – Albert Premier I Refuge to Cabane du Trient including an ascent of Aiguille du Tour
Much to John’s frustration, the day started later than planned with a 7 am breakfast of cold porridge and stale bread. Thankfully, there was tea on tap, so I stocked up on my liquids and caffeine intake. I did, however, find myself in trouble with the grumpy reception staff again, this time for topping up my water bottles from the jug on the breakfast table. Evidently, they would prefer to sell rather than provide water, and thus having to resort to buying bottled water for eye-watering price of 10 euros.
John wanted us out quick, however, as a group we found ourselves struggling to adapt to the routines of hut life and had too many journeys up and downstairs to perform tasks such as brushing teeth and donning harnesses. Eventually, we departed at 8am which at first does not seem to bad, but with the best snow conditions already melting, we had wasted a lot of the best part of the day.
Thankfully, this part of the trip was a short day, and it led to one of John’s “optional extras”, which would transpire to be the best part of the adventure.
We skinned up the Glacier du Tour leaving the Chamonix valley behind us. It was on this ascent that our group had to tackle an inevitably awkward necessity: how to do an alfresco wee without bushes, walls or trees to offer privacy. However, with the inaugural wee done, it ‘broke the ice’ so to speak.
After a couple of hours, we found ourselves clinging on to a ledge in the snow, attaching boot crampons, carrying skis on packs, and ice axe in hand ready for the climb up Col Superieur du Tour. At this point I made my first real rookie error. While trying to transition, I had forgotten to dig myself out a ledge, nor had I secured my pack, and to my horror I watch, dumbstruck as my pack began to slide down the 200m slope to the valley bottom. Thankfully, John was having a ‘alfresco moment’ a few meters down the slope, heard my commotion and with his sixth sense alerting him to the source of the panic, was able to dive across and grab the bag. Even more fortunate for him was that he was facing away from the group so was able to do all this while preserving his modesty.
Having climbed Col Superieur du Tour, we now crossed into Switzerland. Unsurprisingly, there was no border control, but what faced us was amazing expanse of snow and ice across the Plateu du Trient. At thai stage John then offered us the chance to climb an “optional extra” for the tour. We were facing a lofty peak called Aiguille du Tour, and John gave us the choice to rest on the snow, or join him in climbing the peak. We would skin around, leave our skis and climb Aiguille du Tour. John reassured us that he had taken his family up there and how it was one of the easier climbs to achieve, with an excellent summit. Five of us opted to do the Tour leaving one team member sunbathing and protecting the skis from snow monsters.
Climbing with an axe, ski boots and crampons, it soon dawned on me that this was going to be bigger challenge than I anticipated. There were huge drops from the side of the rocks, and although we were roped up, my inxeperience gave me little confidence in the rope. We scrambled up over large rocks, and squeezed through narrow gaps. My heart raced, and for the first half of the climb, I felt I could not do it and mentally rehearsed how to explain to John that I needed to go home. Each time I persuaded myself I had done the worst bit, and then another difficult scramble came around the corner. Once near the top, I began to panic about how I would ever get down, because on the way down, the guide is at the back of the group. I knew this was much more ambitious than I had imagined, and felt terrified.
This climb was real type 2 fun. I hated it at the time, but now, with hindsight, it was the best part of the week. It was the unexpected, it tossed me out of my comfort zone, it got my heart racing.
Thankfully, on the descent, Alex was in front of me and was an accomplished rock climber. She was able to lead the way and guide me with my foot placements. I did object at one point where John changed the route from what seemed like a nice snow based set of steps down, to a manoevere where I had to lower myself between two rocks, not knowing where any of my foot placements would be. My abject fear became a recurring joke throughout the week, as I hollered, “WHHAAT, I’m not going down THERE!”
It was a great relief when we returned to the skis, still shaking, and literally, I felt like I had survived. We skied off and the team found some great powder in the Plateau du Trient. The rest of the group wanted to make nice videos of swishy skiing, whereas I just wanted to get to the safety of the hut and process what I had been through on on Aiguille du Tour.
The final skin up to the hut was not far, but having spent so much emotional energy on the climb, it took me a long time, and I was last to arrive at the hut, totally wrung out. I sat there on the veranda staring back at the Aiguille du Tour for quite some time, processing the now amazing day. The whole amphitheatre from the Cabane du Trient was a long-lasting memory from the trip. We were treated to stunning vistas at sunset and sunrise that just blew our minds, it was a stunning location.
The Cabane du Trient was one of the first places I found an irritation of Brexit. I found that you could get phone signal a short walk up the hill from the cabane. Having made the journey in a pair of crocs I’d borrowed from the cabane staff, through deep snow and now with wet feet, I found that it would cost me £6 to use my phone in Switzerland thanks to the joys of Brexit. Even more irritating was the fact I had a double block on my phone to stop me and my family spending money on our bills, so after all that effort of trudging through the snow, I was unable to make any contact home. I felt deflated, and had just wanted to talk to the family, and regroup.
The night passed, and having learned from the previous slow start after breakfast, I ensured all my kit was ready to go the next morning. John led some really useful avalanche training, although everyone was so tired they opted for the training to be done in the warm and not the snow, so I am not sure of the actual benefit to the practice. Dinner was 5 bowls of soup again followed by pork and couscous, a meal we would have for the next 4 nights. What this hut did have, much to our relief, was running water and palatable toilets. A wash was very welcome. I could have splashed out and spent 7 euros on a 2-minute shower, but thought that was cheating so opted not to, and neither did the rest of the group.
The night passed with poor sleep, but breakfast included fresh bread and eggs, a real treat.
15th April – Haute Route Day 3 – Cabane du Treint to Cabane Prafleuri via Champex Lax and Verbier
We managed to get going much earlier, and had a great ski down from the Cabane du Trient along the Trient glacier, passing by huge crevasses and seracs before meeting at the base of the Col Des Ecandies.
John was worried about this col because there was not a lot of snow on it, and a lot of loose rocks were falling. It turned out that some guides had attached fixed ropes so we could use these in addition to our own rope. John asked for the group to split into two with the first three ready to go up the col first. I quickly realised it would be much better to sit at the top of the col in the sun than wait at the bottom in the cold. I raced to get my crampons on, attached skis to my pack, and got my ice axe. I was ready first. Just as we were about to set off with all our gear, two blokes from South Korea came past and scrambled up the ropes. No crampons, no axe, no rope, just skis over their shoulder with sheer will and determination. As I climbed I entertained the thought that we may at some point see the same blokes tumbling back down past us, sparking an international incident.
The climb was tough and the rocks were loose, but gratefully we reached the top to find the two Koreans about to set off on their ski to the bottom. We sat and warmed ourselves in the morning sun, looking across to the next part of our journey towards Verbier.
The ski down from this point was fantastic. It was a descent of 1600m to Champex Lac starting in winter and finishing in summer. We found all types of snow, crossed avalanches, and slalomed through trees before picking up the pistes at Champex Lac.
Once at the bottom we found we had 30 minutes before our taxi arrived, and a conveniently placed bakery and coffee shop called Boulangeire Gentiana was over the road. I treated myself and John to an apple tarte, a little taste of luxury. I realised that the next time I would be in Champex Lac would be in the middle of the night on the CCC as part of UTMB in August. I was keen to see all the surroundings so that I could visualise the run through the village. It turned out that the Boulangerie Gentiana had loads of UTMB posters. I tried to engage the owner in conversation but his English was as bad as my French. From what I could piece together, his dad started the PTL as part of UTMB, but then I lost track of the conversation, and I got the impression his dad might have died, so found myself in very awkward territory. As much as I would have liked to pursue the conversation with more fluency, I cut my losses and left…. The taxi had arrived.
Fast forward a very relaxing half-hour sitting in the back of a taxi and we arrived at Le Chable just below Verbier. The plan was to pick up some lunch and supplies and head up the lift system before having a double skin to the next hut. After stocking up on Haribo and ham sandwiches, we purchased our lift pass and climbed into the lift. Unfortunately at the mid-station I managed to lose my 49 Euro ski pass. In a WWCD (What Would Claire Do?) moment I went to speak to the lift operator and in terrible French managed to explain my issue and proved I had bought a ticket using Google Pay. The kind lady took pity on me and let me through, but I had two more lift queues to get through. John’s philosophy was to use old-school lift jumping techniques to get through rather than explaining the issue to each lift operator. It worked, and I managed to reach the top of the list system by shuffling through the turnstile uncomfortably close to my group. What followed was two one-hour skins past Mont Fort and a short ski down to Cabane Prafleuri. The weather started hot, but soon the cloud covered us for the first time, and actually, it was a welcome change from the heat of the sun sapping our energy as we moved up the mountains. Spirits were high, so ensued a 70s Karaoke session as the band of merry skiers sang their way through the 70’s Now That’s What I call Music collections. My own song choice was Bon Jovi Living on a Prayer. Classic. I was glad my kids couldn’t hear me!
With a short powder ski down to Cabane Prafeuri we found our beds for the night. The sun had gone so there was not long left to sit out on the veranda, and we found that the Cabane was much smaller and more compact than the previous ones so less space to spread out. We had a room for 20, with Pork again for tea.
16th April Haute Route Day 4 Cabane Prafleuri to Cabane Dix
John billed this day as a ‘short, easy day’….. It was predicted to be a one hour climb up the Col des Roux, before a long traverse with some poling and side-stepping along the impressive Lac des Dix, which was dammed at one end. Having reached the top of the Col des Roux in pretty good time, it became apparent the traverse was not going to be as easy. There were long sections where there was no snow and we needed to walk. We walked alongside soft sugary snow, we had now dropped to below 3000m. John had never seen this section of the Haute Route so dry.
After about an hour crossing grass, avalanches, and revenes we paused on a flat section of snow. Suddenly, there was a large boom similar to what you hear when piste patrols are avalanche blasting in ski resorts. Before we had time to work out where the avalanche blasting was coming from, the snow we were standing on dropped from under us by about 20cm. It was unnerving, and I momentarily wondered if we were about to experience an avalanche. John explained that it was the top layer of snow compressing onto the layer beneath, an air pocket had expanded and escaped.
At this point, we chose to each lunch and then skin the remaining 2km around the lake because poling on skis was just not fun. We counted our blessings, though, because a group who passed us very early caught up with us, telling us how one of their team had lost a ski to the bottom of the valley. They had just spent two hours retrieving it, and then had to walk back up from the very bottom. After several hours, we climbed back out of the valley and found ourselves skinning along the Glacier de Cheilon with the magnificent Mont Blanc de Cheilon as a backdrop. It was a jawdropping sight and was now the best valley we traveled down. To be honest, each time we entered a new valley on this trip it seemed to trump the previous ones. After 7 hours (rather than the predicted 3) we arrived, a little worn out, at the Cabane des Dix.
This Cabane was the best hut. It has two lovely dogs that kicked people of seats so they could lie down. I immediately sniffed out some homemade lemonade and a ham and cheese toasted sandwich. I sat on the balcony, and watched as other visitors at the hut were making use of the zip wire that crossed the revene.It looked fun, but the thought of pulling myself back along the zip wire afterwards was enough to put me off. We spent the evening in the sun and took in the amazing sights of Mont Blanc de Cheilon and the glacier.
17th April Haute Route Day 5 Cabane Dix to Cabane des Vignettes including summiting Pigne d’Arolla 3796m
John had told us the night before that there were reports of large crevasses opening up on the Glacier de Cheilon and it was important we crossed the snow bridges before the snow became soft in the sun.
To take advantage of the lower temperatures, we had another 5.30 am breakfast which meant we were on the skis by 6.15 am at first light. Some intrepid skiers had gone before us using headlamps for guidance; from the hut we watched the trail of headlamps snaking into the darkness.
The short downhill ski was a challenging ice sheet, before the 900m of ascent up the glacier to Pigne d’Arolla.We started climbing but then noticed all other groups were roped up. John had planned for us to rope up halfway up the glacier when the crevasses started. However, John said that we should be ultra cautious and rope up; if anything happened and the other groups were roped and we weren’t, it would look careless.
By now our transitions were faster and we were able to move from downhill to skinning relatively quickly. However we found that being roped together restricted our kick turns as we ascended. Each person could only move at the pace of the person in front and behind, and careful rope positioning meant that turning and progress was slow. It was another opportunity to learn a new skill in ski mountaineering.
The ascent to Pigne d’Arolla was smooth with just a short but energy-draining boot pack up the Col de la Serpentine. As we made the 900m, climb each step opened new vistas of the Alps. It was also the moment we caught our first glimpse of the Matterhorn. We climbed and climbed until we reached the summit of Pigne d’Arolla at 3796m. This was the highest part of the Haute Route and, combined with the sight of the Matterhorn, it felt like we were now close to completing it. The awe-inspiring view from the summit looked deep into Italy, France, Switzerland, and Austria. We sat content with our work, took photos, and soaked in the majesty of the mountains. For me, this was a perfect way to celebrate Easter Sunday.
The ski down was fun with spring snow and crevasse dodging the new norm. The Caban des Vignettes appeared as we approached the bottom of the slope and its position left one wondering why someone thought that was a good place for a hut. It was perched high up on a ledge with a several hundred-meter drop down the Pointe des Vignettes. This hut was limited on outdoor space, particularly because the small area with amazing view was also next to the male toilets, and as there was no running water, this made the stench from the viewpoint quite unbearable. The other issue with this hut was that it was solely run on solar panels, which meant power was in short and limited supply. The impact for us was that we could only charge our phones between 6pm and 8pm.
The evening passed well, and by now we recognised most people in the hut from having stayed with them the previous night. It was almost endearing to still see them in their all-too-familiar long johns and know they smelt as bad as you.
The Journey of a Lifetime
It had been a life-changing week. I had genuinely feared for my life as I climbed the Aiguille du Tour, and have never smelt so bad. I had panicked as I realised I had lost my lift-pass, and fretted over whether my kit was up to the job – or my technique, come to that. I had set off without the security of my family, and faced the challenge of making new friends. On the other hand, I had fulfilled a childhood dream – getting closer to the Matterhorn, and been lucky enough to see it so close, and from such an unusual angle. I had enjoyed the company of strangers, shared meals, and even slept in a shared bunk with the team!
I am grateful for the opportunity of such an adventure, for facing up to the possibility that I might not be capable of completing it. More than anything, I was aware that life is not about getting to the destination, but enjoying the journey. Society is too quick to get to the end point and misses the opportunity to enjoy the journey and process of getting there. I was grateful on this trip that I embraced everything with open hands.