The Hazard Chronicles

This week, millions of obscure little towns in America were overrun by people wanting to witness a rare natural phenomenon. For some, the total solar eclipse was simply a novelty; for others, a scientific curiosity. And yet for a few people, the occasion evoked such deep emotions that some would go so far as to call them spiritual. This isn’t surprising, as similar emotions have been observed and recorded throughout the record of human history in regards to our connection to a universe that is sometimes very obviously much, much greater that we are.

As for me, I missed the eclipse. I suppose you could say other things were more important. The emotions were similar though, in the place where I was, to the ones described by so many aspiring astronomer/philosophers during the eclipse.

There is nothing like being in the mountains that forces you to recognize your place in the world. That place, at it turns out, is very, very small in the grand scheme of things. You are a speck- and the grandeur of nature is so overwhelming that it is difficult to conceive otherwise. And yet, to climb these mountains- to move quickly and smoothly over some of the roughest terrain on the planet- and to be nothing but a speck, but a speck on top of the world, is a wonderful feeling indeed.

To many people, climbing is an adrenaline sport. I get that. There is a certain thrill to overcoming fear on the sharp end of the rope and pushing one’s limits. And I love that. At the same time, there is a completely separate dimension that is not even in the realm of the physical. Rather, it is an artistic pursuit. The aesthetics of the movement- of a perfect line- of becoming one with something that is so big- it’s like a dance with nature, and it is a dazzling thing to be a part of.

*****

The Matterhorn

The main objective for the trip was the Matterhorn- or as they call it in Italy, Cervino. To climbers, this is almost a perfect mountain. The profile is so sheer, so abrupt, so dramatic, that it simply begs to be climbed. Historically it is also significant, for it was long considered to be unscalable. Furthermore, it was this mountain and the disaster that ensued during its ill-fated first ascent, that marked the end of the golden age of alpinism in the Alps. In short, this mountain is on virtually everyone's bucket list, and this summer presented us with the perfect opportunity to comprehend its lofty contours.

The route we settled on is the steeper ridge on the Italian side of the mountain- more difficult than the standard line, but renowned for its clean features and breathtaking exposure. Originally, we had planned the trip as a reunion of sorts with me, Donny, Ty, Colby, Troy, and Griffin. We had all grown up doing trips together, and standing atop such a landmark peak as a group would have a poetic quality to it. Unfortunately, not everyone was able to follow through with these plans. In the end, it was me, Griffin, Ty, and Troy that made our base-camp on the outskirts of the beautiful village of Cervinia. The next day, we began the long approach to the climber's hut situated on a ledge just before the real climbing begins. 

The first part was more of a hike than a climb, but the scenery was absolutely stunning. As we got onto the mountain itself, the terrain became a little steeper.

If you look closely, you can see us working our way up this small step. Griffin is in the lead (orange helmet), then Troy, and then me with the green pack.

This one and the one above it were actually taken on this same section, but during Griffin and Troy's descent.

Finally, we reached the famed Carrel hut. When we got there, visibility was about 30 feet due to a dense fog that had set in. Also, it was really, REALLY crowded. The hut is meant to fit about 50 climbers. It rarely fills to capacity. We were climbing during a rare break in some pretty sketchy weather though, and it looks like a lot of other people wanted to take advantage of the same window. All told, there were about 200 people in the hut. Standing room only. Lots of different languages. Really bad smell. Kinda cool.

Cooking dinner

The only problem with this many people in the same hut were the sleeping arrangements. Ty decided to skip the circus altogether and sleep outside on the balcony. He probably got better sleep than anyone else that night. Griffin and Troy both found spots underneath benches- coveted spots in spite of the occasional kick in the face because of the ability to fully lay down. Pretty much everyone else in the hut was, in some way, sleeping upright. As for me, I sat shoulder-to-shoulder on a bench around a kitchen table with 11 other people. We then folded our hands in our laps to conserve space, and planted our foreheads on the table to sleep. 

Troy's coveted sleeping spot

It was a long night.

But it was even a longer night for Troy. See, while I was getting uncomfortably cozy with my foreign comrades above-grounds, Troy was busy down below fighting a losing battle with altitude sickness. By the time morning came around, it was clear that his body was not up to the rigors of the day. After some group conversation, we arrived on a plan that Ty and I would continue on to the summit, while Griffin and Troy made their way back to the car.

From there, the climb passed by in sort of a blur. Because of all the discussion in the morning, we ended up leaving the hut much later than expected. This allowed other groups to get in front of us that didn't climb as fast, and there was a lot of waiting. I felt like Ty and I climbed well together though, and before we knew it we were standing on the windy summit of, what is quite possibly, the most recognizable mountain in the world.  What a great day of climbing.

Summit Photos

*****

Car Issues

This is a topic that followed us throughout the whole trip, but I'm just going to put everything in one place here so it doesn't take over the other, more positive aspects of this post.

First of all, Ty hit a wild pig with his rental car. This happened before Griffin and I even arrived on the scene, but it put a big dent in the side of the car and broke the radiator. This made it so that a driver had to stop about every thirty minutes and put water in to prevent overheating.

Plenty of water bottles for the drive

The next car thing that happened is that the keys to both rental cars (Ty's and mine) were lost on the way down from the Matterhorn. This created a couple of issues: First of all, all of our stuff was locked in the cars. Second, we had other destinations and no way to get there.

Long story made short:

On Wednesday we spent most of the day wandering around the beautiful little town of Cervinia. Griffin made, at last count, 96 phone calls to the rental car company trying to figure things out. They were less than helpful. In the end, my car was towed. Both cars were opened by the tow-truck driver so we could get our stuff. Ashland, who was staying with Colby in a nearby town, was able to get to Geneva and rent a new car and then drive it down to meet us in Cervinia. This was a day-long adventure for her. Ty and Troy had to leave their car behind. A new key would be mailed to Milan where we could pick it up later.

This meant that we had a new member of the party- Ashland- who would have to cram into the overheating and dented pig-car later on with three other smelly guys and all their gear to make the long trip back to Paris. She was a good sport though, and in the end everything worked out. 

There's a lot of moving parts there. Just know that it was a major headache...and not a cheap one either.

Oh- and I don't think I'll ever be renting from Hertz again. It's just not worth it.

What a beautiful little town

This cafe became a sort of headquarters for us while we waited for things to work themselves out.

*****

Dolomites

The picture above looks like a magical fairy-tale kingdom. I have seen the picture before, and it's almost hard to believe that such a magnificent place can even be real. That is, until I found myself there.

The Dolomites are some of the most dramatic mountains in the world, rising in stark contrast to the grass-carpeted hills around them. It was here that our travels brought us once we figured out the car situation. 

Also, here's a bit of history for you. These mountains are so rugged, that during World War 1 they were almost impassable to ground troops. In order to navigate their craggy contours, the government placed miles and miles of "Iron Roads" or "Via Ferratas" along the sides of these cliffs. Today, these "roads" provide all sorts of adventures to those who wish to explore this range from up high.

Besides the fun climb/hike, we also got some killer views:

Probably my favorite group picture from the whole trip

The Dolomites are seriously one of the coolest places I've been to.

*****

Annecy and La Tourette

Once we had experienced the Dolomites, we set our course once again to the West and the romantic little town of Annecy, France. Castles, chateaus, gardens, shops, and canals, all in one of the most picturesque settings imaginable, make this town an ideal location for relaxing at the end of a great trip.

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Our view from the lake. La Tourette is the big peak in the center/right.

We spent most of our time at the lake, where a quick swim gave us the best "bath" we had had in days. Then, after swimming for a while, we all just sat on the dock and sort of gazed out on the water, each person lost in his or her own thoughts. We'd had a great time. It was nice. Tranquil.

The next day, everyone except for me piled into the pig car and made the long drive to Paris. This left me with a full day to myself before my flight home.

That day was not wasted.

From the shores of Lake Annecy, the highest mountain you can see is called La Tourette, and is considered an "Ultra Prominent Peak" (yes, that's a real thing) by some scientists for it's topographical prominence. Seeing a chance to explore this area, I decided to take the morning to climb to the top.

The bottom half of the mountain meandered through grassy meadows, full of cows and sheep with little tinkling bells on them. It was idyllic. 

After a while, the terrain became a bit more rugged, and some easy class IV climbing came into play

Summit!

 The climb itself was enjoyable, and I moved quickly. What really stands out to me though, is what happened on the way down. As I was walking, I noticed several people paragliding in the area. One of them was getting pretty close to the side of some cliffs, and I was amazed at his skill as he rode the wind...until he hit the cliff.

With a loud yell, he smashed into the side of the wall, and then went careening out of sight into a narrow gully. I quickly ran to where I had last seen him to check the situation out. By the time I got there, a few other people were gazing down at him. His parachute has gotten stuck on some rocks (probably a good thing), and he was hanging off the side of a steep cliff. It was difficult to see him, but his screams let you know that he was both conscious, and hurting really, really bad. The other people who were there looked on helplessly, either not able or not willing to climb down the steep wall to help.

By myself, I down-climbed to where he was and took an assessment: His face was badly lacerated and he had a compound fracture in his lower leg (bone sticking out). Other than this, he seemed to be okay. He was responsive, but I couldn't understand anything he was saying because of a language barrier. Gesturing, I indicated how I could help him up, and slowly we made our way together back up the side of the precipice. By the time we arrived back on top, there were numerous people waiting to help who could communicate better than I could. Seeing that there was nothing else I could do, I left to continue my hike down. About twenty minutes later I saw a helicopter circling the area.

What a morning!

When I got down, I went back into the town of Annecy for some good food and another dip in the lake. That night I slept in the car, and then flew home the next day.

It was a great end to a great summer.

*****

France. Italy. Chamonix. The Alps. The Dolomites. These are places that I have read about my whole life. They have, at times, consumed my thoughts. I have dreamt about them. And now, I can say I've been there. I've done that. And I'll probably do it again. Probably many times.

But you know what else? While I was there, I realized that these faraway places were just...places. Don't get me wrong- they were absolutely amazing. This, for me, was the trip of a lifetime. But it also helped me to realize how much I have in my own backyard. And I think that if I had spent my life living in these places, then perhaps I would dream instead of the Cascades, the Sierra Nevadas, the Tetons, or the deserts of Southern Utah. Maybe I'd even see pictures of Lake Coeur d'Alene and plan a trip to the pristine waters of North Idaho.

Maybe.

Really, the world is full of all kinds of beautiful places. I have been very lucky to experience many of them. What a glorious thing it is to be alive.