Zermatt, 14 - 21 August 2009 (including an ascent of the Matterhorn!!)

The irritating thing about spending time in the Alps is that one tends to constantly look for bigger and better mountains to climb. In September 2008 Baxy, Russ and I managed to get to the summit of Mont Blanc. The climb wasn't technical in nature but it was pretty hard work, the descent just as much as the ascent, and we were delighted at having summited at the first attempt. A couple of months afterwards, Russ and I felt we needed to line up something more challenging, and we soon found ourselves rather optimistically (perhaps even jokingly) discussing an ascent of the Matterhorn (4,478m) via the Hörnli ridge.

I knew that Russ had aspired to climb the Matterhorn since childhood and that it was possibly within his capabilities (though I suspected it was well beyond my own) but all the same at the end of the conversation we had both committed to taking a week off in August to that end. Russ likens the Matterhorn to Concorde in that he feels there is something fixating about its beauty. I too can appreciate the beauty of both the Concorde and the Matterhorn but as far as Concorde is concerned, admiring the design is enough - I wouldn't be up for taking the controls at 30,000 feet. As expected though, following the conversation Russ was no longer satisfied with just looking at the Matterhorn. Unfortunately he was now more up for climbing the fricking thing than ever before!

As for me, I would be lying if I were to say that I had harboured such aspirations since childhood because up until fairly recently, mountains had in my opinion been there to be skiied on rather than climbed. The Matterhorn had nevertheless been very much in my consciousness for the last few years since my first ski touring in the Valais. In my consciousness as a terrifyingly steep and beautiful mountain to gaze at, but with the emphasis on gaze. As I drove down to the Alps I was pretty confident that I was going to have a fun week walking and climbing the odd mountain around Zermatt but hadn't really considered an ascent of the Matterhorn as a serious possibility. For one thing, the localised weather conditions on the mountain invariably mean that the window for climbing it is very small. The Hörnli ridge is also very steep and exposed, with sheer drops either side, the whole way up. And since breaking my thumb in Verbier back in March my fitness had completely gone to pot as I had been unable to play squash since then. If I had known then that since Edward Whymper's first ascent in 1865, the Matterhorn had claimed the lives of more than 500 climbers (300 more than Everest), I would have hastily backtracked on the idea and suggested a five day course of ice-skating lessons instead.

Shortly after my conversation with Russ I duly booked two Zermatt guides with whom to attempt the Matterhorn 21/22 August. I had also arranged for us to climb the Riffelhorn and Pollux on 17th/18th August, and for us to do a half traverse of the Breithorn on the 20th. We would do a gentle trek at altitude beforehand on the 16th.

Sunday 16th August - General chilling & Gruensee

Checking out the Hörnli ridge of the Matterhorn:

Monday 17th August - Riffelhorn ascent

This was an introduction to technical rock climbing, with some abseiling and ascending fixed ropes thrown into the mix. Russ managed to impress the guide Andreas (he's got a small amount of experience in this kind of stuff) but whereas I thought I'd done rather well, Andreas was less than lukewarm on my chances of summiting the Matterhorn. He was convinced it would take me more than the deadline of two and a half hours to get to the Solvay Hut (4,003m), a tiny emergency hut two thirds of the way up the Hörnli ridge in terms of altitude, and he took it upon himself to dissuade me from wasting my money.

There was a chink of light though. Andreas told me that there was a 550m climb from Zermatt to Sunnegga I should attempt, and the time it would take me would indicate whether I would have a chance on the Matterhorn. Do the Sunnegga trail in 45 minutes and I'd have a good chance. 55 minutes would mean touch and go. An hour - forget it. It had to be done. We rested in Zermatt for a couple of hours before both setting off on the Sunnegga trail. I took it steadily yet managed it in 51 minutes - game on. Little did I know though that by the time I arrived Russ had been waiting for 15 minutes. Despite having been virtually glued to his desk for the previous two months, the man was in serious shape. But I was pleasantly surprised by my own chances.

View of the East Face of the Matterhorn from the Riffelhorn (the Hörnli ridge is the right-hand ridge of the mountain):

Riffelhorn summit:

The Riffelhorn from afar:

Tuesday 18th August - Pollux ascent

Up at 6am for this one - a traverse across the Breithorn plateau before a mixed rock and ice ascent. Feeling a lot fitter today and heartened by yesterday evening. Once we had returned to the Klein Matterhorn lift station, Hannes our guide told Russ that he could be a serious contender for the Matterhorn summit if he hit form on the day. As for me, he said that he had initially thought that I was struggling. But he also said that he was surprised at how I managed to stick to the pace right to the end. Pollux was nothing like as hard as the Matterhorn, but on the basis of today's effort he felt that I could justifiably give it a go. Right - that's the green light I needed - no way back now!

Pollux summit:

Wednesday 19th August - trek to Hörnli Hut

The weather had been threatening to come in all week, so the guide office had recommended we skip the Breithorn ascent and attempt the Matterhorn climb two days earlier than planned. No choice so off we went.

The trek from the top of the Schwarzsee lift station to the Hörnli Hut (3,260m) is absolutely stunning, with glaciers and 4,000m peaks constantly in view, as well of course, as the Matterhorn straight ahead. There is never an escape from the Matterhorn - it beckons you towards it from Zermatt and almost all the surrounds. We took this trek gently as we were carrying big packs with 4 litres of water (to save on the exorbitant cost of water in the refuge). Two hours of trekking and we arrived. Supper almost immediately, followed by an individual debrief from our respective guides. There was plenty of chat at supper - all of us honestly assessing our chances and going through our individual worries. My worries were twofold: firstly that I wouldn't make it to the Solvay Hut in the required two and a half hours, and secondly the fixed ropes at 4,200m. These ropes go from about 4,200m to 4,270m and require a serious effort. Here the rockface is so steep that ropes have been put in place to facilitate climbers over the most technical sections. You need to find grooves for your feet, and wrench yourself up on the fixed rope with your arms. I had done a small amount of this on the Riffelhorn and on Pollux and had been left totally exhausted. If I was to get past the Solvay Hut, this would be the final hurdle. Soon it was time for bed, and I didn't manage a minute's sleep through a combination of nerves, altitude, and fifteen other souls snoring in the same room.

Thursday 20th August - Matterhorn ascent

A 3.50am wake-up call was actually a bit of a relief. We did a final check of our packs - crampons, a litre and a half of water, 2 mars bars, a sandwich, 2 gels, camera, a hat, a spare set of gloves, a windproof fleece and a gore-tex jacket was about all that was needed. Then we donned climbing trousers, climbing harness, a base and mid-layer, helmet and head torch, and altimeter followed by increasingly uncomfortable climbing boots with about 5 compeeds on each feet. Tea, a cheese sandwich and we were off like infantrymen on the big push. Out of the door at 4.20am.

My guide, Samuel Anthamatten came from a family of serious climbing pedigree - his brother and one other hold the record for the fastest ascent and descent of the mountain, and he had told me in no uncertain terms that he (along with all the guides) wanted to be up and down as quickly as possible to avoid the deadly afternoon perils of fatigue and rockfall. Any more than two and a half hours to the Solvay Hut and we'd have to turn back due to the inherent risks of guiding an exhausted client back down the mountain.

A lack of sleep meant that I was struggling from the word go (an early section of fixed ropes right at the start didn't help), breathing heavily and wondering what the hell I was doing on the mountain. Russ had been first out of the door with his guide Urs (possibly because word had got round that he was fast), and accordingly was first onto this section of fixed ropes. Possibly buckling under the pressure of having thirty climbers watch him be the first to take on the ropes, Russ lost his footing but managed to scramble up the first obstacle.

An hour in, and I was feeling okay. I was still breathing heavily but this seems to be what I do on any climb. As long as I wasn't feeling fatigued too early, my breathing wouldn't worry me too much - and luckily the night before I had briefed Samuel not to worry about it either. I had learnt on the Mont Blanc climb that guides get very irritated if you insist on any unscheduled breaks. I nevertheless needed one after about an hour and twenty after having ascended about 500m. But within two hours we had reached the Solvay Hut and I was still feeling good, mainly due to Samuel's steady pace. I had totally run out of water though. A short break and Samuel wanted us to keep pushing ahead. This meant that if I could avoid total dehydration the summit was on!

By about now the sun had come up so we turned off the headtorches and I dared to look around me for the first time. It was exactly as the reports had said - terrifyingly exposed on both sides so I told myself to keep concentrating on the steep section of rock called the Upper Moseley Slabs immediately above me.

Another hour and we were making good progress up the steep sections, steadily overtaking people above. As expected, thus far there had been no walking - just climbing - so it had been very tiring on the thighs, and the fixed rope section at 4,200m was yet to come. Sure enough the fixed ropes section arrived and with crampons on, this section was going to be even harder. I somehow got about two thirds of the way up and then came to a vertical step with seemingly no footholds. I hung on for dear life before losing my footing and dangling on the fixed rope. Thankfully at that point there was another guide just next to Samuel who pulled the belay rope taut to allow me to find a foothold and pull myself over the step with their help. Another short section and the fixed ropes were done! Now we found ourselves on the "roof" section, and although at a 50 degree angle, this was actually the flattest section of the climb so far. There I passed Russ who had just summited and was now on the way down. Russ shouted some words of encouragement, and although I would ordinarily have given him a high five - and was very pleased for him - I was so focussed on my own situation that I barely mustered a, "good work mate!"!

Soon the summit appeared and there were a few folks resting just before it, including Andreas, our guide on the Riffelhorn who affectionately patted me on the back. We walked carefully over the shark's fin ridge and finally at 8.25am I was standing on top of the Matterhorn, shaking Samuel's hand and shouting at the top of my voice. These had been four of the most exciting, nerve-wracking hours of my life - and standing on the summit is a moment I will never forget. Then I phoned my dad to wish him a happy birthday - I don't think he'd expected a call from there! I also called Tom Avery with whom I had done a fair bit of ski touring in the couple of seasons before - he wisely asked me to put in another call once I had completed the descent given that the descent on the Matterhorn takes as long as the ascent and is statistically far more dangerous.

11 minutes on the summit and Samuel was keen to get going. it was his seventh summit day in a row (!), and he, like all the Zermatt guides, knows the mountain inside-out so was able to direct me with uncanny accuracy while belaying me from above. The most precarious part of the descent was when we moved out left onto the North Face - one false move and we could both have ended up on the rocks 1,500m below. I managed to keep a reasonable rhythm between the down-climbing and abseiling down the trickier parts, always attaching the "bainer" (carabiner) to an "eye-ron" (iron piton) below. An hour and twenty and we were back at the Solvay Hut. Unfortunately by now the screen on my camera was completely mangled but I just hoped the summit photos would come out.

More of the same for another two and a half hours and finally my exhausted legs carried me onto the balcony of the Hörnli Hut where Russ was waiting with outstretched arms - truly one of the great moments. After a, "mate that was almost unbelievably hardcore" exchange we ecstatically yet exhaustedly compared notes on what had been a memorable morning. Russ had flown out of the traps and had made it back to the hut in six hours twenty minutes, making my seven hours fifty look pretty sluggish. Russ and his guide had been the first guided party to make it back to the refuge but I was pleased to have made it in under eight hours given that eight hours with a guide is supposedly the benchmark for a quick climb...

Samuel had been absolutely superb and had definitely been the crucial factor for me. Both Russ and I, whether we liked it or not, had been up against some pressure - Russ wouldn't have wanted to explain how a much less fit bloke like me had got to the top while he hadn't, and obviously I was under the cosh knowing that Russ was far more likely to summit than I was.

This wasn't as physically demanding a challenge as the 2008 Patrouille des Glaciers, but it was certainly scarier and whereas we're applying for the 2010 PDG, my ascent of the Matterhorn in 2009 will definitely be my last!

Upon my arrival at the Hörnli Hut we didn't hang around and trekked back to the Schwarzsee lift station almost immediately - me at a snail's pace due to toe and ankle injuries on my left foot which had till now been kept at bay. That was it - done and dusted - what was all the fuss about??!!

There was no time for photos (except on the summit) so as well as a couple of my own photos, I have also included below a selection of photos of the exact route we took, taken a couple of years ago from a helicopter - I recommend that you click on each one to enlarge it because on every photo you'll just be able to spot the climbers taking the same way up that we did!

View from the refuge:

Spot anyone?!

Climbing up to the Solvay Hut...

Using the fixed ropes:

Views of the summit from the North and North East...

Russ having made it

Only halfway there though!

Some fellow climbers making their way up the ridge to the summit:

The sheer drop down the North Face:

The below photo of another climber on an earlier trip gives a good indication as to the steepness of the ridge:


Back at the Solvay Hut for a short break:

Friday 21st August (above) - Chilling

Saturday 22nd August - traverse of the Schwarzsee (glacial lake, 2,550m - properly "chilling" this time!)

This was cold but we both made it (just!)

Bernese Oberland, 25 - 28 April, 2009

It has taken me an age to do a report of our trip to the Bernese Oberland, mainly because the tour had to be aborted after one day on the mountain following appalling weather conditions.

Our plan had been to climb the Jungfrau (4,158m), the Finsteraarhorn (4,274m) and the Hinter Fiescherhorn (4,025m) but we sheepishly returned home having conquered none of the above. The weather forecast had been unerringly woeful two weeks before this trip, dampening our mood upon arrival in Grindelwald. Attendees were me, Alex Nelstrop, Russ Berry, Dave Thomas, Roger Gaide (a ski instructor who we met doing the Haute Route in 2007) and of course Vincent Couttet, our trusty guide of two Haute Route trips.

I had never been to Grindelwald but had recently read Heinrich Harrer's "The White Spider", an account of amongst other things his first ascent of the North Face of the Eiger (in German, the "Nordwand" (also referred to locally as the "Mordwand" (murder wall)). The Eiger looms above the resort of Grindelwald and if nothing else was certain during a week of touring where anything might happen, one certainty was that we were not going to be attempting it!

We gathered in the hotel on Saturday evening and after the customary carb- and beer- loading, we set off up to the Jungfraujoch (3,471m) to Europe's highest railway station. The Jungfraujoch itself is a high mountain pass dividing the peaks of the Monch and the Jungfrau. Below the pass, and cut wholly inside the mountain is a railway terminal, shops, restaurants and a museum - but this is all totally enclosed within the mountain. When outside, one would have no idea of the activity inside the mountain, and in bad weather, and as we were to find out, it is very difficult to find the side entrance to the interior of the mountain on the Jungfraufirn side when returning there following a ski tour.

Before arriving at the Jungfraujoch, the train travels through the Eiger and the Monch and there is a famous viewing window built into the Eiger North Face. When we arrived at the window the weather was looking good but things soon changed as we reached the Jungfraujoch terminal.

It was clear that today was going to be a "nailz" day, and with visibility virtually zero we immediately roped up for the descent down the Jungfraufirn to the Konkordia Hut - an ascent of the Jungfrau was out of the question. Four painstaking hours later we arrived at the refuge having weaved our way through some precarious crevasse fields (most of which we didn't see) and instead of the usual hub of activity at the refuge, there was an alarming lack of fellow ski-tourers. The weather had set in for the week and people knew it.

The North Face of the Eiger...

View from the Jungfraujoch viewing window:

Setting off...

A rare view of more than 20m on the Konkordiaplatz

The height of the steps demonstrates how much the glaciers here have melted in recent years.

With the weather still dismal the following day, we quickly took the decision to abort the trip - we would skin up to the Jungfraujoch, jump on the train back down to Grindelwald, and be back in our respective countries for tea and cakes. Hmm.

Two hours into the ascent, we were labouring due to GPS issues, deep snow, danger of crevasses, and extreme cold. Then there was a powder avalanche. Dave and I were at the back, and upon hearing what sounded like a terrifying thundercrack, we suddenly saw a large volume of snow coming straight for us. Luckily we were in the centre of the glacier so it petered out before reaching us, just covering us with powder. Nonetheless it was pretty frightening.

Four hours had gone and we should have arrived at the Jungfraujoch two hours before then. The main problem was that we didn't know where we were due to the readings on our altimeters. The weather had come in, so the readings would be higher than usual and we therefore needed to judge for ourselves how high we were. After about six hours we had ground to a halt, frantically searching for the entrance to the Jungfraujoch, in the form of a door in the side of the mountain. While Alex, Dave, Roger and I waited in the extreme cold, Russ and Vincent went off to scout for the entrance a hundred metres or so below. At this point the four of us were preparing to dig a snow hole and spend a night in it. Two hours later Russ and Vincent returned, with no joy. Now we decided to ascend, and after a whopping eight hours forty minutes, came across the side door to the Jungfraujoch which thankfully was open!

Once we had got inside the mountain, immediate panic had subsided because at least we had found shelter, but as it was now after 6pm, we had missed the last train down the tunnel to Grindelwald so were going to have to sleep inside the mountain... We briefly debated walking down the tunnel in pitch darkness over the train tracks but deemed this to be too dangerous. But by a stroke of luck we stumbled across the janitor (!) who sleeps up there and who was decent enough to bring us some tea and allow us to sleep on the floor of the main restaurant. This was frankly luxury compared to what we had been expecting, so after managing to afford a surprising amount of laughter about our day's experiences, we bedded down for the night.

As well as the janitor, some rail workers were also working through the night and we eventually managed to get a 5am service train with the workers back down to Kleine Scheidegg, where we soon learnt that all trains between there and Grindelwald had been suspended due to avalanche risk. After a couple more hours' kip at the Kleine Scheidegg station, and with morning now fully upon us, we were therefore forced to get a train to Lauterbrunnen at the other side of the valley, bribing a taxi firm to drive to our hotel, pick up our remaining belongings and meet us in Interlaken where the trip would end.

Comedy photo of Russ keeping warm by using the hand-drier in the loo!

This is what the Jungfraujoch looks like (apparently!)

We knew the Bernese Oberland trip would be action-packed but hadn't anticipated the circumstances. We were sad to be leaving but were were all strangely satisfied with what had actually been quite an escape!

Verbier, 13 - 21 March 2009

I didn't take many photes or vids this holiday but the tour party was me, Russ, Tom Avery, and Andrew and Rowena Gerber (& family), all staying all over the place.

The tour kicked off with an attempt by Tom, Gerbs and me to skin up to the Petit Combin (3663m) on the Sunday. We duly got up at 3am and set off from Bourg St Pierre with very little clue even if we were on the right path. The climb involved 2,200m of vertical ascent (9 hrs up, 2 hrs down) and unfortunately some teething problems at the beginning were to prove costly meaning we eventually had to turn back 100 vertical metres from the top due to the impending avalanche danger on the way back. Very peeved not to have made the summit but it was a valiant attempt and we'll all probably give it another attempt before too long... Sadly the memory ran out on my watch so there's no altitude graph but here is the route map (click on it to enlarge):



For the rest of the week we attended a Powder Extreme camp with guides Seb, Felix and Anders. We had some brilliant snow but they must have had an awesome season there this year given that Anders even apologised about the conditions at one stage. We had nothing to complain about.

The one slight disaster was that I managed to break my thumb half way through the course (embarrassingly it happened on a piste at the bottom of Savoleyres). It came just before the Ile de France squash play-offs which was extremely frustrating...