Change In Plans

Note: this was written two days ago (April 1), but only posted on April 3. Pictures will follow later.

Greetings from Cabane de Prafleuri, about 10,000 feet up in the Swiss Alps.

Day 3 of the Haute Route ski tour was flat-out awesome. It had everything: a long climb, a beautiful high-mountain summit, and some of the best powder skiing ever.

We were up at 6 am. All of us slept much better than we had the previous night. Being in a room with six beds instead of 26 made a difference. Plus, I think we are all getting acclimatized to the altitude.

After a basic breakfast of bread and coffee, Rinaldo had us out the door before 7. He played an April Fool’s joke by telling each of us that it was raining outside when it was too dark to see (he said “It’s pooking.”) We actually had to stand around for a few minutes on our skis, with climbing skins on, until it got light enough to move safely. The sunlight brushing the tops of the mountains was very pretty.

We climbed continuously for almost five hours. Rinaldo’s skiing style is to move with relentless, metronomic regularity. Every 90 minutes he allows us a 10-minute break, but aside from that, he just keeps moving.

All of us have learned to do what Rinaldo does, and say what Rinaldo says. We followed him closely, like a line of ducklings making their way down to the water. In this case, though, we were making our way up about 800 meters, to the summit of a mountain called Rosablanche.

My French is poor, but I think the mountain’s name translates to ‘white rose’. From the valley at Rosablanche’s base, the snow and the jagged rocks did look a little like a flower’s bloom, so I guess that makes sense.

The ascent never got particularly steep, so there were few opportunities to practice our kick turns. After lots of head-down, trudge, trudge, trudge, though, we were suddenly almost as high as we could go.

We took off our skis and packs, grabbed our ice axes, and scrambled up the last 15 meters to the summit. Just to our left were a group of very unsteady looking cornices - big snow drifts hanging over a several-hundred-foot drop. From above they looked invitingly like secure footing. We stayed on the rocks as much as possible, heeding Rinaldo’s words, “If you are on the cornice when it falls, c’est finis.”

After a few minutes on top of the world, we climbed down (slightly hairier), and put on our skis.  We had a spectacular downhill run through untracked powder. We skied for almost 45 minutes, in snow conditions and terrain that are literally about as good as they can be.

Finally, we reached the hut at about 2:30 in the afternoon. A long and amazing day of skiing.
We have gotten the basic hut routine down. First we all take off skis and boots, and leave boot liners out to dry. Then we put our ice axes into a special holder outside the door. Apparently, it is a big etiquette faux pas

 to bring an ice axe into the mountain hut. We go up to our bunk room, put on dry clothes, and go out to sit in the sunshine. After a round of waters, usually someone buys a few cans of beer, and we play cards or backgammon, or read. It is a very civilized end to the skiing day.

This hut, Praefleuri, is unusual, because there is only one person working here. A woman slightly older than me, cooking dinner for 80 people, serving snacks and drinks all afternoon, and checking guests into their rooms. She seems to be a miracle worker. Theoretically, she runs the hut with her husband, but he must be off somewhere.

It has been very strange to have this adventure with a group of people who I didn’t know well at the start. As you would expect, we have gotten to know each other a little, and are having an intense shared experience. India and the kids and I have been having an intense, shared experience for the last year (and a wonderful and happy normal life outside of that time). While I am here, they are in New Zealand doing things without me.

There is no way, physically, that we could be having this experience as a family. India, of course, could crush all of us (except Mike the personal trainer), in physical fitness, but she doesn’t like to ski. The whole trip would be inconceivable for small kids.

That said, I continue to feel like they should be here. I miss them. We have been able to talk almost every day, and I have been hearing about their adventures in New Zealand. But I’m far, far away, and they are doing their own thing.

I am very glad that this separation is temporary. I won’t live a life apart from them again, as I did for many years, until May 2008.

Tomorrow will be another big day. We are all feeling good, and have decided to add more climbing and skiing to the route. If tomorrow is even half as good as today, it will be amazing.