‘Mountaineering is an hazardous discipline which requires a high psycho-physical preparation. A little distraction can cost your life’. This was the sobering message that greeted us as we were disgorged along with numerous other climbers from the cable car at the Passo Dei Salato. We had already travelled up via two lifts from our camp site far below in the alpine village of Alagna Valsesia and I was beginning to wish I was languishing in my camping chair nursing a cool beer in the warm afternoon sunshine instead of contemplating an extreme few days in the High Alps, which might, just might, in my present half-hearted frame of mind, claim my life! Reluctantly, I trudged the few hundred metres to the final cable car that would take us up to Passo Salati-Indren at 3,200 metres.
From here a long line of climbers began making its way across the first of two glaciers for the Gnifetti Hut sited at 3,647 metres. It was not yet visible, as between it and the cable car was a huge shelf of rock which had to be surmounted. The pace was fast as we crossed the Indren Glacier, snow turned to a caster sugar consistency in the warm afternoon sun, making it mucky and slushy in places. Despite climbing a via ferrata the day before as part of our acclimatisation regimen, I had not anticipated how challenging surmounting this huge wall of rock would be. It was easily a grade two scramble and was very exposed in places, necessitating the use of fixed ropes or wooden stemples to facilitate access up its craggy face; one slip might have proved fatal without a helmet. Some climbers wisely missed out this section, taking a longer, but safer, route round this obstacle past the Mantova Hut (3498 metres) which then brought them on to the Garstelet glacier below the Gnifetti Hut.
It was with some relief that I arrived at the rocky plateau atop the shelf of rock, prominent upon which was a triangular frame fluttering with coloured strips of fabric printed with Himalayan prayers which looked strangely out of place in
. Two nearly parallel thin white lines were just perceptible leading across the gently rising glacier gleaming in the afternoon sun towards the Gnifetti Hut, impervious as a fortress atop another immense shelf of rock with near vertical walls. Donning our crampons, we set out on the upper of these two paths across the glacier, by now feeling the altitude a little, making progress somewhat slower. Pausing to remove our crampons, we then assailed the vertical wall, aided by a series of metal staples and fixed rope which led to a rocky ledge and a path that rose directly to the balcony of the hut via a flight of steps. Italy
People thronged the balcony watching the progress of those who were still crossing the glacier below. The views from here were truly magnificent, with the Mantova Hut below clearly visible and the turquoise
beyond, seemingly encircled by wave after wave of jagged smoky blue mountaintops. Martin registered us and, being among the first group to reach the hut, we were allocated a cosy double bunk room on the second floor, thankful indeed that we were not in a dormitory with numerous other climbers. Being members of the Austrian Alpine Club, we got a decent discount on the room too. Having settled in and stored our boots and ice axes in the kit room, we strode up to the bar for our reward: two cool draft beers, which we took outside to savour in the warmth of the afternoon sun. Lake Gabiet
It was only when I visited the loos (a line of cubicles, each containing a smelly stainless steel ‘do it yourself flush’ squat) that the enormity of the task ahead sank in. This was a loo with a view all right, straight up the Lis Glacier behind the back of the hut, its left side buckled, shattered and gashed with deep crevasses, the faint line of a path just about visible snaking its way ever upwards on the far right edge beneath Piramide Vincent, which we planned to climb the following day.
Dinner was served at seven, a tasty four course meal of soup, pasta, meat and vegetables, and a desert. Reluctantly, we resisted the temptation to have another beer, sticking to mineral water, as there’s nothing worse than a splitting headache brought on by dehydration at altitude, where the air is dry. After watching the sun slip behind the mountains in a riot of colours turning the clouds shades straight out of a Baroque painting, we retired to bed ready for an early start.
We slept fitfully, trying to acclimatise to the altitude which, given that you need to drink a lot of water, has the annoying side effect of making you want to pee profusely! So we were up a couple of times in the night to visit the ablution block. From the loo with a view, the glacier, bathed in ethereal starlight, looked magical. The Milky Way was very visible, arching across the sky behind the small chapel of Notre-Dame-des-Neiges, the highest in the
Alps, above the hut. Martin couldn’t resist braving the cold of deep night to capture this on camera.
At first light we rose to have breakfast. Many other climbers had already left the hut pre-dawn but as we were only planning to climb the nearby Piramide Vincent, there was no need for us to hurry and no alpine start required! Fully kitted, we descended the rocky shelf at the back of the hut and began the climb up the glacier. The route was quite busy with numerous groups of other climbers moving slowly upwards and at times it was difficult to pass large groups roped together. Higher up, the glacier became steeper and more crevassed but we managed this with relative ease as it was still in the shadow and the snow was pretty firm. But after passing under the seracs on the western slope of Piramide Vincent, the sun drifted up from behind the mountain, its light reflecting back off the glacier with piercing brilliance. It soon became surprisingly warm.
After a break just past the bergschrund at the top of the glacier to admire the magnificent scenery and to take a drink of hot lemon from our flask, we proceeded up the steep flank of Piramide Vincent. Our pace slowed a little as we assailed the slope, the altitude taking its toll. Ahead of us was a group of German climbers and on reaching the crest of the narrow ridge we celebrated bagging the first of the 4000m+ mountains on offer in the Monte Rosa range with them by sharing their gummy bears! The views were fantastic. The viciously pointed Lyskamm, its eastern flank crevassed and covered in snow, looked as if it was about to pierce the sky. Beyond, fifty shades of smoky blue grey culminating with the distinctive
Mont Blanc massif striding high on the horizon. We also caught our first glimpse of the mountains beyond: Corno Nero and Ludwigshöehe, both of which we planned to climb.
Just as we were donning our rucksacks to begin the descent back to the hut, a young man appeared on the narrow ridge. Approaching us, he asked in broken English whether there was another way off the mountain, other than retracing his steps. We all stared at him in total amazement. He was an Afghani, but that wasn’t the reason we were all stunned into silence; it was the fact that he was not wearing any crampons and had no alpine kit with him whatsoever. One of the Germans muttered something under his breath about him being a crazy fool and seconds passed before another suggested it was just safest to go back the way he’d come. With a carefree smile, he calmly walked back down the narrow ridge and vanished. Literally. On the glacier, it is easy to spot people and he did not ascend higher, he was most definitely not in front of us as we made our descent back to the Refugio Gnifetti and none of us saw him at the hut. Dubbed the incredible disappearing man, he showed crass stupidity by being in a high alpine environment alone with no proper equipment. We all hope that he did not fall into a crevasse…
We were back at the hut before lunchtime, and after taking a hot shower, ordered pasta and a couple of beers which we enjoyed on the balcony in the hot afternoon sunshine. We then retired to our room for a nap, rising in time to watch the climbers coming up from Punta Indren crossing the glacier below the hut. Another superb dinner was served by the very efficient and pleasant staff at the hut and after enjoying the vibe in the bar for a while, we decided to turn in, as we had an early start.
The rectangles of the window were still dark when I woke, disturbed from my slumber by the sound of other climbers moving about and what sounded like opera music from an indeterminable location. I can’t say I was looking forward to the climb up to the Margherita hut and I will never get used to being ripped from a warm bed at some ungodly hour, then plunged into the cold and dark to be dragged up a mountain! How the died muesli stuck in my throat as I tried to eat something for breakfast!
A thin thread of climbers was rising steadily up the Lis Glacier, their torch lights casing pools of light creating the impression that a gleaming necklace had been garlanded round the western flank of Piramide Vincent. The stars gradually faded as the dawn began to chase away the night sky. As we rose higher, we saw the deep purple shadow of the
It didn’t take us as long to climb the glacier this time as we were a bit more acclimatised, but there was still a long slog up towards the Col de Lis through a brilliant white world of glistening snow and ice laid out beneath the deepest blue sky imaginable. The gradient eased considerably past the Balmenhorn and we finally got our first view of the Margherita Hut perched on the left shoulder of Signalkuppe high above the Grenz Galcier. The hut was opened on 18 August 1893, and named after Margherita de Savoie, Queen of Italy, who, together with some alpine guides, spent the night there. It still looked a long way off and involved a long climb up a featureless slope rising between Parrotspitze and Zumsteinspitze annoyingly made higher due to the fact that there is a descent from the Col de Lis.
However, this is leavened by the remarkable and magnificent scenery which is guaranteed to uplift the weariest spirits! A vast panorama framed by Dufourspitze, the highest
to the north and Lyskamm to the southwest, unfolds as you progress below the seracs of Parrotspritze. Between the two lie many of the most famous peaks and massifs in the alps: Castor and Pollux; the Mont Blanc massif, Grandes Jorasses and the Aiguille du Midi; Grand Combin; the Matterhorn; Dent Blanche; Zinalrothorn; Weisshorn; Jungfrau and even the Eiger on the horizon. peak of Switzerland
After the long pull up which sapped our energy in the hot sunshine, the terrain flattened out and we could see the hut clearly, and the final very steep climb up to reach it. Taking it slowly, we progressed ever higher, our breathing becoming more laboured as we struggled with the altitude. It was a relief under five hours later to finally arrive at the hut, copper clad and reassuringly hunkered down against all that the
Alps could throw at it.
Checking in, we were allocated to a 6 bunk dorm on the first floor, and, as we were the first occupants, claimed our beds close to the window. Dumping our kit we headed to the bar in the dining room to celebrate reaching the highest building in
Europe with a couple of beers. Yes, even the highest hut in Europe is supplied with draft beer by helicopter! Outside on the balcony in the brilliant early afternoon sunshine, I gazed down upon a mass of fluffy white cloud as if viewing the scene from a jet plane. Alpine choughs put on an acrobatic display, whirling and cavorting on the thermals and through gaps in the cloud canopy, I spied a formidable landscape of gleaming glaciers, razor sharp ridges, chaotic masses of moraine, and far below, the ribbons of green valleys. Maybe it was the elation and relief to have made it to this altitude, but the sight of this incredible panorama promptly reduced me to tears.
Back in the dormitory we were disturbed by a couple of dour Swiss climbers who glowered at us for taking the bunk nearest the window and seemed to do their damndest to prevent us taking forty winks by conducting a long and loud conversation from their beds. I was glad when it was time to make our way to the dining room for dinner. This was a surprisingly gourmet affair, a three course meal with a choice of vegetable soup or pasta: I chose the former as by now I was all ‘pastaed out’ and readily declined yet another dish of insipid quills doused in a tasteless tomato sauce masked by copious helpings of parmesan cheese! The main course consisted of fried fish, potatoes and broccoli, rounded off by a desert of crème caramel and washed down with another draft beer! The mood in the dining room was highly jovial, the bar was doing brisk business as many groups were drinking rather heavily. Indeed, three Swiss climbers sharing our table were happily knocking back the schnapps, which, at several euro a pop, were not cheap and I wondered at their stamina to imbibe that freely at altitude. They drank enough to knock out a horse!
I wandered outside where a group of people had gathered on the steps leading down from the hut to watch the sunset over the alps. On the eastern side, the peak of a nearby mountain was reflected on the cloud below the hut like a mystic pyramid. They stood silently, locked in reverence as the sun sank lower in the western horizon, turning from a disc of mellow yellow to burnished gold and finally to a flaming ball of red light that exploded behind a line of grey cloud flanking the upper part of the distinctive triangular
Matterhorn, skirted all round with a milky white cloud inversion. A sight I shall carry to the ghats. After visiting the uber smelly stainless steel squat we retired to bed and had a fitful night’s sleep due to the nocturnal wanderings of our Swiss room mates who obviously couldn’t hold their drink!
The descent to Passo Salati-Indren
The usual predawn bumps and bangs of climbers busying themselves for an early start heralded the beginning of another day. Blinded by the head torch of one of the Swiss who hadn’t the wit to think he might be annoying other occupants in our dorm, I gazed up at the window which was still a rectangle of purple light punctuated with numerous stars. Feeling sleepy, I nestled back into my duvet not wanting to get up. At least today we were making a descent, rather than another gruelling long ascent. But the hideous cacophony of sound masquerading as ‘music’ being played in the dining room was enough to wake the dead from their slumbers and soon ripped me from the arms of Morpheus. After a breakfast of yet more muesli washed down with orange juice and a couple of mugs of coffee for that all essential caffeine kick to start my motor, I was ready to kit up for the 1,500m descent.
Roped together we began our descent from the hut as the first rays of dawn warmed the brown rocky slopes of Zumsteinspitze opposite, causing it to be etched sharply against the indigo sky beyond, the surrounding peaks rising mysteriously from banks of cloud nestled in the valleys below. We made good speed to the Col de Lys, where we decided to tackle the summit of Ludwigshöhe (4,341m). Atop the crest of the steep snowy ridge we enjoyed fabulous views of Lyskamm, its steep face partially obscured with a thick covering of snow resembling royal icing, the remainding bare rock defiantly facing the brilliant morning sunshine. Scores of thin white lines criss-crossed the snowy vastness all around, betraying the trails scoured by the crampons of umpteen climbers heading from one mountain to another. One led up the impressive looking
The way up this mountain looked more difficult than the other peaks we had surmounted, as it involved a very steep climb where one slip would have resulted in the need to self arrest with an ice axe pretty quickly! The challenge was there to be taken and we were soon making our way steadily upwards, plunging our ice axes deep into the snow to prevent ourselves slipping and soon attained the narrow ridge on top which gave vertiginous views down over the valleys below. Summit bagged we enjoyed the thrill of the descent before making our way onto the Lis Glacier down past the Balmenhorn, a rocky outcrop with a distinctive statue of Christ and bivouac hut, which we decided not to climb, mistakenly believing it not to be over 4,000m. Next time!
We arrived back at the Gnifetti Hut before lunchtime, so contented ourselves with a cool draft beer on the balcony where we watched the antics of several cheeky snowfinches who seized on any small crumb that fell on the floor, while a flock of yellow billed alpine choughs entertained us with their aerial displays of acrobatics. Come lunchtime, we eagerly devoured a large plate of bacon, bread, eggs and cheese; what a difference from pasta! Another beer later we set off down the steep walls from the hut to the Garstelet Glacier leaving plenty of time to make the last cable car at 4.00 pm. We opted to down climb the rocky cliffs separating the Garstelet and Indren Glaciers which was far more challenging than the climb up, and after around 1.5 hours we were walking off the Indren Glacier, which had thawed rapidly from our ascent a couple of days before, towards the Passo Salati-Indren cable car lift. We’d been blessed with fine weather, but this was now beginning to break up, and great columns of ugly grey cloud were swirling up from the
. Alagna Valley
Watch the video of our climb on YouTube: