The Haute Route : Day 6

Chamonix-Verbier-Zermatt in 6 days
(« back to day 1)

Day 6 : Vignettes Hut to Zermatt

1170m up, 2730m down, 30km across



The longest day demands an early start, so I'm up at 4:50am, a few minutes before everybody else in the bunkroom (estimated occupancy: 30 people and 10 snoring chainsaws). Walking outside towards the cliff toilets, I realize three important things:

1. It's damn cold in the middle of the night above 3000m
2. Lashing winds have numbed my face and hands within seconds
3. The sun has no intention of rising soon

Nevertheless, the hut is buzzing with anticipation as everyone hurries to eat and pack up. Today will be long but glorious: with good weather, we'll see the Matterhorn and the Dent d'Hérens towering above our heads during the 18km descent into Zermatt.

We're out the door, and I'm prepared for the weather this time: hood up, face covered, goggles on. We walk the cliff's edge back towards Pigne d'Arolla, struggling to keep fingers warm and trudging through knee-deep spindrift powder. We jump in our skis and cross the Glacier du Mont Collon in a fast, icy traverse. Rough clumps of ice grab at my skis.

We spend an hour climbing up to the Col de l'Evêque (3382m), still blasted by the cold morning winds. Our next descent begins icily, but we find powder above the flat Haut Glacier d'Arolla: yet another visit to fluffy white heaven! We zoom out onto the flats of the glacier and begin our second ascent.

It's easy going until we reach a steep 100m wall, directly below the Col du Mont Brulé (3213m). Other groups have kicked a nice bootpack, so we all climb on foot... except our junior guide, Phillipe. He quickens his pace as he zigs and zags tight turns up the wall on skins. We're done by 9:20am, but Phillipe beats us with minutes to spare. Damn.

The subsequent 140m descent seems to last mere seconds. Though somewhat obvious, I suppose, it's still remarkable how quickly one can descend huge altitudes on skis. When hiking or trekking, descents are perhaps two or three times faster than ascents. On skis, it seems like descents are 10x-30x faster. You barely even notice them.

At last, the final ascent awaits: a 490m push up the Haut Glacier de Tsa de Tsan. For purely psychological reasons, this proves to be crushing. Knowing that it's all downhill on the other side makes it painfully difficult to concentrate. I climb final 200m in a daze, loosely aware that I'm clustered with Alex and a pair of Italians that we've seen before: nobody is talking. Clouds envelop us near the summit, and we lose sight of the group; we trudge around exhaustedly in various directions until we find a cluster of familiar backpacks and jackets. Eventually I realize that we're basically done now: we've reached the top of Col de Valpelline (3557m), nearly 5 hours after leaving the hut.

Much to Alex and Matt's surprise, Jean calls out for all remaining lunch food: including the cheese from Chamonix and the kilogram of Verbier bread! Remarkably, my companions haven't jettisoned their cargo along the way, so we refuel before the long descent. My mind wanders as the clouds unveil the surrounding peaks, including the awe-inspiring 4477m Matterhorn. Wow.

Descending the Stockji glacier on a sunny afternoon is, quite simply, unforgettable. Elated by knowing that we have nothing left to ascend, Alex observes that it's like a video game: we bounce around between crevasses and ice blocks, slushing through the wet afternoon snow and marvelling at the sunny scenery.

Though easy today, apparently it's challenging to navigate these glacial features in a storm. Jean comments that the route changes significantly each year: early in the season, he always records his path on GPS. When he gets caught in storms on later trips, he follows the route and typically ends up leading small armies of skiers through the maze.

Eventually the valley flattens completely and we struggle to maintain our speed, hopping over rocks and obstacles along the way. Before we can reach the resort of Zermatt, we end up dismounting and walking a few kilometers along a soggy dirt road. Tired and dirty, we're all grumpy and eager to get back to civilization: walking through mud has little appeal. But we soon reach the Stafelalp restaurant, at which point we can skate and ski along a painfully flat catwalk, a slight improvement on walking.

At Füri, we discover that the short piste down to Zermatt is lacking anything that resembles snow. We can take the gondola down, but such a dull ending to our journey seems unacceptable. Instead, we enjoy sliding down wet grass and mud, sticking to the shadows and the narrow trail of slush that somebody has conveniently shoveled for our benefit. As we reach the town, I'm somewhat awe-struck in disbelief: we actually made it!

This being Zermatt, nobody pays much attention to our motley crew. Smelly mountaineers are nothing special: the town is crawling with as many harnessed, axe-wielding skiers as Japanese tourists. Matt, Alex, and I end up parting ways with the group, all of whom are immediately returning to Chamonix... but we have better plans: a night at the nicest hotel we can find, followed by a cruisy day of skiing the resort. Good times.