“La prochain arrêt est Orsières… ” was the sound I heard as I got off my 4th train of the day, on the way to my first ski tour in Europe. Although one might think the Swiss transit system is as good as it gets, it still required 4 different trains and a bus to get from my residence in Lausanne to the beginning of our route. I had arrived in Switzerland for my semester abroad a few days before and had been itching to get out exploring the Alps for the first time. Although not quite as prolific as the VOC, EPFL’s “Club Montagne” proved to be an essential meeting point for fellow mountain lovers and how I made some of my closest friends of the semester. Our plan for the day was to start from Champex-Lac, a cute village near the Swiss-French border, and tour up Val d’Arpette until the Col des Ecandies.
In the lead up to leaving for Europe, I had kept hearing how the Alps were having one of their best seasons in 20 years and that the snow was plentiful. This had kept me optimistic, even while BC was having a historically bad winter. As it would turn out though, the snow in Europe only existed above 1800m. Many small resorts were closed due to a lack of snow and the hill sides were colored a spring green. Apparently, it had snowed record amounts in November and December, but by the time I arrived it had been a few weeks since the most recent snowfall.
Perfect grass skiing conditions in February
Nevertheless, the plethora of ski resorts in Switzerland meant that there were plenty of groomed ski runs or chairlifts to help us start at higher elevations. As we began our tour from Champex-Lac, our high spirits matched the perfect blue-bird weather of the day. Confirming the classic European stereotype, we continually got passed by groups of skimo style tourers, complete with their 55mm underfoot skis and skintight suits. No Gore-Tex or Bent Chetlers in sight. Even if I don’t consider my skis wide by BC standards, I still felt out of place with my 108mm underfoot powder toys.
Couloirs everywhere!
As we continued up the valley, a plethora of north facing couloirs appeared on our left. It was truly a sight to behold, with at least 10-15 different options depending on how skinny you like them. As our objective for the day came into sight, we could also see the sheer number of people who had the same plan as us. Like ants on a honey jar, tiny dots of people were spread out all over the route. Due to the crowding we opted to switch our objective to the nearby Fenêtre d’Arpette, a slightly steeper but less crowded col. This proved to be a good choice as the views of the surrounding area and nearby Trient glacier were fantastic. Sadly I can’t say the same about the snow, which was a breakable crust that threatened to catch our ankles with every turn.
EPFL’s Club Montagne waving “hello”
Later in the season I took advantage of my school’s Easter break to get a taste of one of the finer things in life – European mountain huts. My big plans to ski 8 days straight had been scuppered by foehn winds bringing relentless 100km/h gusts and Saharan sand to the alps, turning all snow to crusty, wind-swept cardboard (tree skiing doesn’t exist over there). Nevertheless, I managed to salvage the latter half of the week with a trip to Gemmi pass, near the border between the cantons of Bern and Valais. As we approached the pass from the valley bottom, a daunting set of cliffs rose tall in front of us. Still unaccustomed to the European ways, I began mentally preparing myself for the long bootpack that lay ahead just to access the snow, giving flashbacks to last new year’s trip to Phelix hut. My eyes darted back and forth across the cliffside, wondering how it was possible to put a trail up through the unrelenting vertical wall. I was soon snapped back to reality when my partner-in-crime, Maja, reminded me that we’d better hurry along lest we miss our gondola ride up to the pass. While the weather was less than ideal that day (read foggy, windy), our mission was simple: tour up the pass until we arrived at the Lammerenhutte, aided by helpful orange wands spaced every 50m along the route. As we arrived at the hut a few hours later, neither of us were feeling motivated enough to set off for a nearby peak in the white-out, especially with the warmth of the hut pulling us in. However, it felt a bit blasphemous to spend an entire day supposedly “skiing” without having made a single turn. This was remedied by linking two turns on a small bump outside the hut. Even though the footage has since been lost due to an unfortunate broken phone incident, witnesses can testify to this incredible descent of Lammerenhutte’s very own “cabin hill”.
Our home for the night
As we entered the hut the delicious scent of our future dinner wafted down the stairs, mixing with the dank odor of wet ski gear that lay drying. A shelf lining the drying room was covered with crocs, each colour indicating a different size to make organization easy. As we shed our ski gear and headed up to explore the rest of the hut, I was in awe of the hut’s amenities. Now this wouldn’t be a European hut if it didn’t include lovely Swiss meals or comfortable bunk rooms. But instead of the one massive bunkroom I was expecting, there were small rooms of 2 to 4 beds, complete with mattresses, pillows, and blankets. Now you might say, Nelson, this doesn’t sound that different from Kees and Claire hut or an ACC cabin in the Rockies. However, the holy grail of this hut were the hot showers. That’s right, instead of resigning ourselves to feeling sticky and sweaty after a long day of touring, we could relax blissfully in crystal clear Swiss water. After a beer, a delectable three course meal, and an evening spent playing a sheep herding board game, we retired to the warm embrace of our duvets to rest up for the next day. As I slowly dozed off, I kept thinking “If only we had more huts like this back home”.
The weather improved for the next day so we set out for a nearby peak, Daubenhorn. While it features some great ski touring in the winter, the massive cliffs on Daubenhorn’s east face are also home to Switzerland’s longest via ferrata. For our descent, we found some great untracked powder, which surprised us a little given how many other tourers were in the area. As a fitting end to the weekend, I took a gondola followed by a few trains that delivered me right back outside my residence in Lausanne. Oh the simplicity.
Descending off the summit of Daubenhorn