on my arse..
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Andermatt - the end is neigh
After a month in Andermatt, it is clear that this isn't a resort for every skier. If cruising groomers on perfect corduroy is your thing, you'd be better off heading for Val d'Isere, St Anton or Meribel. However, for powder and open terrain, this place - at least of the places we've been - is hard to beat. It is also true that this place isn't solely for the extreme rider - on the contrary, Andermatt has a lot to offer for the competent skier wishing to take the first steps off the beaten track. From our experiences here, some recommendations if you're thinking of coming here to ski.
1. Get some basic (at least) understanding of avalanches, and make sure you carry, and know how to use a transceiver, shovel and probe. All the quality riding here is in avalanche terrain. If you're an occasional skier - get a triple antenna, digital transceiver, as this will save you valuable minutes. Get a metal shovel - polycarbonate ones just won't work. Get a rucksack capable of ski-carry, and make sure that you can put the skis on your pack and get them off again whilst wearing your gloves or mitts of choice. Sure, this is expensive stuff which you hopefully will never need to use, but it's worth getting your own, rather than hiring it, as you will get used to your own kit. Andermatt has a very nice avalanche training facility - just punch in the number of victims, and a time, and start searching. If you can't find a single burial within 5 minutes, you need to practice more before heading out. You should demand that your riding partners can locate 3 burials within 15 minutes, and they should demand the same of you.
2. Get some touring-capable kit - even if you don't envisage doing any actual touring. Being able to release the heel of your bindings is a great help on pole-outs, if nothing else. However, being prepared to skin even for 15 minutes opens up a host of possibilities. It really isn't any more difficult than hill walking. Strenuous, certainly - especially at altitude. Touring boots have Vibram soles which is a great help when boot-packing with the skis on your pack. If you're renting kit, note that fat, rockered skis don't really work for skinning.
3. Get a map. There is a freeride map available showing the regions with their associated level of difficulty. It also shows some of the 'up' routes for skinning. If you're thinking of doing any more touring, it's worth getting a proper ski-touring map. There is a whole series of them, showing both ups and downs. Annoyingly, Andermatt itself sits right in the corner of 4 different sheets. We got the 'Disentis-Muster' ski tour sheet, as this shows the area most accessible on the train, and the freeride map for the area around the Gemsstock. The Swiss maps are beautifully constructed, unsurprisingly, and the ski touring maps are about 23 SFR. There is also a larger-scale walking map that has better coverage for the Andermatt-based, but it lacks the marked routes. However, if you're a seasoned navigator it may be another option.
4. Consider using a guide. A guide is a short-cut to having fun, and well worth it when coming to an unfamiliar place. If there is a group of you, the cost is easier to bear. Having a guide showing you around for a day or two is likely more beneficial to your health than following other people's tracks if you don't know where you're going. Although a guide isn't an instructor, you will learn a lot from them.
5. Wear a helmet. You probably do anyway, as most skiers and boarders have already reached the same conclusion. For riding in unknown, unsecured terrain there are no excuses not to.
6. Don't - ever - ski the main piste back down to the village. It's horrid. Make your last run of the day be either Felsental (which drops you right at the lift base station, if you're clever), or one of the back bowls feeding into the Avalanche Alley pole-out (Unteralp, by its proper name). Failing that, swallow your pride and take the lift down - your skis will last longer!
7. Note that the valley is prone to cloud inversion, so even if it looks like a complete white-out from your window, the sun may well be beating down on the top of Gemsstock.
8. The kit shops in the village are well equipped, but - even by ski resort standards - very expensive. Lift passes are very reasonably priced, however. A four week pass is less than a one week pass in Colorado or Washington.
9. Alt Apothek is a very nice, low-key bar in a posh hotel where it is pleasant to have a drink apres-ski. They also do nice food, and with 30 mins free WiFi for customers. Note that a 'large chips' is a bowl of crisps. People with baggy clothes and unkept hair seems to prefer the Spycher Bar.
10. Goechenen train station has three platforms, numbers 1 and 2, and the somewhat Harry Potteresque number 13. You want number 13, which is out the door, to the right where you pick up the little cog train the Matterhorn-Gotthard Bahn.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Snow
The snow forecast suggested that we'd get a flurry, perhaps 1cm. It snowed solidly for 36 hours.. an Andermatt flurry, perhaps. Saturday it was still snowing, and the visibility was largely zero. The Gemsstock lift was shut for the morning due to avalanche danger, which cuts off most of the free riding, and there was a peculiar feel around the slopes - those that had ventured out were sort of hovering in expectation, waiting for the lift to start. Some people were actually skinning up from one of the lower draglifts up towards the ridge delimiting the Giraffe bowl. They were either supremely experienced and confident, or very foolish given the amount of snow that had fallen. The top lift opened about 10, and everyone tried to get on. Visibility was still zero, but we managed to get some good runs in. Sarah's contracted some fever and bad throat, and was feeling a bit shakey, so we retreated to the single slopeside restaurant for a Gulash soup and to warm up. We got some choice conditions for a couple of runs down the runnels of the middle bowl. Towards the afternoon the visibility improved, and we finished on a great run down Felsental.
Krister's back in Andermatt with a bunch of Swedes, and we met up in the Apothek for a beer and to pour over maps and to pick his brains about other tours in the area. The weather forecast for our last week is for more snow showers and generally variable conditions. Not ideal for touring, but hopefully we'll get a chance before it's time to head off.
Sunday was pretty perfect - blue skies, snow during the night, -10. Unfortunately, we were clearly not the only ones that had noticed this, and Andermatt was at its busiest so far, with all the locals and not-quite-so locals making the effort to get out of bed. It took us an hour to get to the top of Gemsstock. We took the traverse around the side, and went down the Giraffe bowl, which was in nearly pristine nick, at least the bits that count. This run is the business. We poled out along Avalanche Alley and suffered another uplift, not quite as busy as in the morning, but still painful. This time we dropped off the back, and booted up to the Guspis col - again to find it as nature intended on the other side. The main bit further down felt wind-polished on the traverse in, with some rocks showing, but as we slid onto the main face it was just perfect, probably one of the best runs we've had so far. We ambled our way down the valley, looking for a spot to sit and eat our sandwiches, but it seemed impossible to find somewhere both in the sun and out of the wind. In the end we sat ourselves down beside the pole-out track most of the way down to Hospental. We made it back on the train to Andermatt for about 3pm, and our 'enthusiasm' for the lift queues got the better of us, and we bailed for the day, as we walked past our flat on our way from the train station.
Monday - mostly nice day, and the place is empty again, the locals clearly having gone back to work. Sarah's illness abated over night, and she found her ski legs again. A local pocket of visibility seemed to have parked itself over Gemsstock, with Felsental, Guspis and also the Giraffe bowl seemingly cloud covered. We picked line after line of perfect powder down the main bowl. It's curious how the place seems to regenerate over night, even after busy days. All of the bowls seem to catch any weather going, and fill in with even the smallest amount of wind, even when there has been no fresh snow fall. Apart from the upper part of Guspis and parts of the Giraffe bowl, everything also seems to be mainly in the shade, and never really hardening from freeze-thaw. We caught the last gondola to the top, and had a nice run down Sonnenpiste and Felsental (complete with epic face-plantage).
Friday, February 19, 2010
Olympics
Although the flat is equipped with Satellite TV, the only English-speaking channel we have access to is CNN, which is on continuous repeat it seems. We've found a French-Swiss channel that at least is showing some of the Winter Olympics. Without understandable commentary it was difficult to decipher the opening ceremony - the whole Irish dancing by Hell's Angels gnomes with violins thing was hard to relate to Canada, let alone to winter sports, but I'm sure that must have been some native cultural expression I'm not aware of. And so to the Curling. It's obviously a display of incredible skill and tactical thinking, but one cannot help wondering how you get into a sport like that. It's hard to imagine a youngster saying "football, no thanks. Rugby is for sissies. Cricket, bah. Skiing - how lame. Curling, on the other hand..". Biathlon (skis'n'guns) looks like a right riot - at least you can see where such a combination may have originated. Nordic Combination on the other hand.. a cross country race followed by ski jumping?
Rest day...finally
Spent a few days repeating the drops we'd done with Krister - snow's still better than it should be, with lots of tracks to be had. The pole-out off the drops from the Gemsstock still smarts, and as the days goes by, it more and more resembles a dash down avalanche alley, with the sun-afflicted slopes on the opposite side sliding daily to the extent that the pole-out track is simply gone each time we come back down. It was a while now since the last snow fall, and with warmer temperatures and high wind, at lower altitude at least the rocks are starting to poke through. There seems to be some sort of local holiday here, and especially the weekends are (by Andermatt standards at least - hardly Verbier) more busy, too. On Sunday we took the train to neighbouring Oberalp to escape the crowds to do a little cheeky tour - 700 metres of up straight off the train, pretty much, with several options at the top - retrace our tracks down to Oberalp, ski down to Andermatt, ski down to Tschumat (next stop along the railway) or carry on up a succession of other peaks and ridges. We had no clue, and no map. At least the visibility was good, and - really - how hard could it be? Besides, the weather looked totally awesome - a balmy -5, clear blue skies, and the ascent in the sun. It was pretty obvious were to go, so we mounted the skins, took off as much clothing we could afford to without being arrested, opened any remaining vents, and set off. Exerting yourself in cold temperatures is a bit weird - you can be dripping with sweat, yet have cold-numb fingers or toes. There were a handful of wiry old-timers ahead of us, who needless to say easily out-paced us. We reached a small ridge after about 500 metres of vertical, which dropped into a massive bowl, and we had the choice of carrying on to the summit itself, or taking a high traverse into the bowl and up the other side to a col. The gnarly old-timers looked as if they intended to take the traverse, so we followed suit. Breathing now started to get a tad laboured, but soon Sarah with me in tow pulled up onto the plateau at the col, 1:40 after we set off. It was blowing a hoolie. We quickly put on all our clothes again, and deliberated. Some quite frankly outrageous tracks were coming down steep colouirs from the next ridge which would require a steep scramble up. However, steeper than 30 degrees, and sun-facing didn't exactly feel safe. The Andermatt side was the lee-side which didn't quite appeal either, as from the train we'd seen several wind slabs that had slid, some with tracks (boarders, obviously) as clear triggers. We decided to aim for Tschumat, clearly visible far down the valley. Although several tracks were leading down, there was plenty of powder to be had, and we had a pleasant run down, complete with two pointless face-plants for moi. We sat down about half way and ate our sandwiches before commencing the long slide down to the village of Tschumat, and a quite frankly well-earned half of shandy in the sun.
Monday, and after failing to convince Sarah to take a rest day, we decided to at least take it a bit easy and piste-cruise from Oberalp to Sedrun. Although the weather was nice, it really wasn't worth it. Iced-up, scraped bare - we've become powder-junkies, and there's no going back.
Tuesday, and we're back at the foot of the Oberalp climb. The night before we'd sensibly acquired a ski-touring map, and picked the brains of our friendly, and very experienced neighbour, Lara. We thought that this time we'd start up the same track, but carry on up a few more peaks, and drop into Andermatt. We beat our time to the col by 7 minutes, but this time the weather had really come in - both Sarah and I lost the sensation in our fingers, and the Andermatt side was shrouded in cloud. We briefly toyed with the idea of doing the next ridge, but even booting up the knife edge in the strong wind felt unjustifiable, so we aimed our tips down towards Tschumat again, albeit using a different route. I can't recall ever being quite so cold, which took some of the enjoyment out of a fantastic run in great snow conditions. This time we had to choose between train and shandy-half, and the train won.
Wednesday dawned to somewhat poor visibility, but incredulously again I failed to convince Sarah of the need for a rest day. The conditions were actually quite good (bar the early visibility), with the rest of the town sensibly having a rest day, and the wind having erased some of the tracks. Somewhat leaden-legged from the previous day's tour we kept throwing ourselves at the massive mogul field down the main bowl to give the legs a good workout. Skiing moguls is good for the soul, especially so on touring skis.
And so we're nearly up to date - yesterday we again packed our skins to try a little tour recommended by Lara. Dropping off the back of the Gemsstock, and up to the col leading down to the Guspis, but instead carrying on up the peak to the left. We didn't bother putting the skins on, and instead booted all the way up, and were greeted with acres of options, all seemingly untracked. We dropped in, traversing right into a wide colouir giving perfect powder turns and wide smiles. The plan was to follow this until it eased off, and then skin up the right bank, crossing over a ridge to gain access to an easy-angled ascent up to a col between two peaks just short of the 3000m mark and then drop back into the Hospental run down the Guspis valley. Conditions were very nearly perfect, with complete solitude and untracked snow. Sarah broke track up the 300m ascent, but as we came up to the ridge, the wind and bullet-proof snow on the other side convinced us to retrace our tracks and ski back the way we had come up. A long, wide snow field of packed powder led us back down to the frozen lake, where we stopped to consult the map. We knew we had to reconnect with the long riverbed leading back to the Vermigelhutte, a Swiss Alpine Club hut at the beginning of the avalanche alley pole-out. This time we'd have to do the full length of it. We found a lovely route out, and parked ourselves on the benches outside the Vermigel to finish our snacks and have a drink of water. The Vermigelhutte is a lovely piece of work, solar-powered, with a full kitchen and honesty bar and outrageous views. This time the pole-out was less strenuous, as the bits of track not yet washed away by avalanches had an icy polished surface to them. In several places the snow pack made the unnerving 'whoomph' sound when we passed, the sound of a collapsing layer that on steeper ground really is bad news. It was about 4pm when we returned to the village - a full, perfect day out in the mountains from only a single uplift.
This morning the snow had started falling, and the clouds were in. Finally, Sarah agreed that we could have a day off, after 11 days on.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Blueberries galore
Sarah: New favourite apres-ski snack - croissant, warm, with locally made blueberry jam.
Day 3 with Krister (couldn't see a bloody thing)
Wednesday morning, and the weather had taken a turn for the worse. Still, two days out of three of blue skies was better than we'd hoped for. With a white-out and snow fall, this would be a different kind of challenge. We met Krister for the 9am lift, and he started by extracting a climbing harness from his pack, and handing it to me with a "you may as well carry this". We did a warm-up run cutting across from one of the pistes and dropping down something that given the conditions felt steep and scary. Next time around we side-stepped up a snow arrete to drop into the Gipfel Colouir, "an area classic". Even given the white-out, I could see Sarah's face taking on a slightly paler shade of pale, looking down the rock-strewn mouth of the narrow, steep chute. We'd looked up at this many times from below, and although probably an optical illusion, it looks as it defies the laws of physics in that it shouldn't be able to retain any snow, given its angle. From above, this feeling was amplified, although Krister said that it was good that the visibility was so poor, or we'd probably be worried. The first 20 metres or so is a matter of sliding or scrambling down exposed rocks, trying to get onto the first proper snow. The first few turns felt claustrophobic, almost as if the tips and tails of the skis were about to touch the sides at the same time. It then slowly widened to a width more comfortable, but still scary steep. We re-joined the Sonnenpiste, and then boot-packed up a near-by knoll dropping back into the main open bowl under the Gemsstock. Next run we exited the Sonnenpiste above the drop-in to the Felsental run and donned the skins. It was now blowing a hoolie. After a short, but very steep climb of about 30 mins, we reached the knife-edge rim of the bowl next door. We quickly roped up for a bit of a scramble along the ridge, and then dropped into the bowl proper. The snow here was weird - like sugar, and Krister wasn't happy with the situation. He armed his avalanche airbag, and wove an intricate path close to the rock band to mimimise the risk of a slide. As the angle eased, so did we, and we could open up a bit - at least as much as the limited visibility allowed. As we dropped altitude, we entered the cloud base, and we were hard pushed to see just about anything. We joined the Felsental valley from the left - we'd done this bit numerous times, but in this condition, it was a challenge. And so the final run of the day was upon us. Again we headed for the Gipfel area, but dropped in about half way up the arrete into a triangle-shaped hanging snow field. At its apex, in a rather improbable situation, we managed to scramble back into the Gipfel just where it widens, and followed it back down. We boot-packed up the knoll, but this time roped up for the scramble up left along the ridge to the summit proper. We were greeted by untouched powder at an improbable angle. At this altitude, the visibility was actually reasonable, but we could see the cloud below us like a lid choking off the whole valley. Sooner or later, this would be an issue, as we suspected that Krister wasn't really the type to catch the last gondola down from the middle just because a bit of cloud. The single piste reaching the valley floor was a 'joy' of iced up moguls and rocks which we essentially tackled blind-folded - we could not see from one marker pole to the next, and followed Krister's whistling. Three action-packed days had come to an end, and we celebrated with a beer at Der Alte Apothek (where these words are being committed to electrons).
Day 2 with Krister (touring the light fantastic)
Second day was touring day, and we headed to Disentis up the valley on the train. The plan was somewhat vague - go to the top of the Disentis lift system, climb up a further 500 vertical metres, and ski down the other side to some other village, and get back using public transport somehow. At the top of the third lift, we mounted the skins under our skis, and released the heels, and set off up what appeared to be a smallish snow field ending in a vertical rock band. Somehow we skirted around to the right, and a long, slowly rising traverse ended in a hacked-out snow platform over a massive drop, and a set of rungs drilled into the rock leading up the face. I was knackered already, just as Krister informed me that according to his altimeter we'd completed the first 51 vertical metres. My heart sank. We put the skis on our packs and headed up the rock face on the via ferrata rungs. As we reached the top, the view was simply breath taking. A valley opened up, with our main objective in clear sight on the other side - a beautiful, massive snow face leading up a mountain. The initial thought was how good it must be to ski down it, immediately followed by the sobering reality of the fact that we were supposed to skin up it. We stripped the skins, snapped our skis into downhill mode, and quickly lost every single one of the 51 metres we'd so far gained, and then some more on the way down to the glacier at the foot of our climb. In ski-touring terms, 500 vertical metres of gain is small-fry, but standing at the base looking up it looked immense. At 3000 metres of altitude, I was certain that I'd look worse for wear pulling onto the summit plateau. Krister set off, with Sarah hot on his heels. I knew from the outset that I stood no chance keeping up with them. Skinning has its own almost hypnotic rhythm. I settled into 50 steps, short breather, 50 steps. Krister and Sarah seemed unstoppable ahead. About half way they waited for me, and after that I tried to keep up, forcing myself to keep to the (now reduced, for my benefit) pace. After about 90 minutes of hard slog, I finally pulled up over the top, to be greeted by Krister and Sarah, and a bunch of cheerful Swedes that had been ahead of us. We sat down in the snow and had our lunch. Krister commented that I seemed to take the fact that the wife kicked my arse on the uphill in good spirit, unlike some other (mainly American) clients he'd worked with in the past. I assured him (quietly) that my good spirits were only for show. And so for the down. We'd been promised four metres of descent for every metre climbed, which sounded just like my kind of ratio. The story of the descent is one of two halves - the first (and now obviously running out of superlatives) was probably the best run I've ever skied, and all the sweeter for having slogged up hill by own steam. Bottomless Champagne, 30-35 degrees, no tracks, totally awesome-dude-rad, 1000 metres of blissful vertical. The second part was... rather different - well, imagine climbing trees over steep ravines, in full ski gear (including skis). Eventually we made it down, not really skiing, but picking our way down dense vegetation, rocks and steep gullies, until we hit terra-firma, and a long, but surprisingly pleasant run-out along a river into the village. A people carrier had conveniently pulled up, touting for business, picking up stranded skiers between the infrequent bus departures, which suited us just fine - 15 francs well spent to get back, spent but happy, to Andermatt. Back country touring really is it - in fact, you don't even need to go that much back country to get some fresh tracks. We staggered into bed by 8:30pm.
Day 1 with Krister (aka Colouirs 'r us)
Krister Jonsson (www.alpinemadness.se) is a Swedish mountain guide nowadays living and working in Chamonix. We met him heli-skiing in arctic Sweden a few years back, and he is in fact the main reason we chose to come to Andermatt in the first place - he mentioned back then that he used to live and work here, and that it's a superb off-piste base, as it has the terrain, the annual snow fall, but lacks the mod-cons that draw the piste'n'party crowds. We contacted Krister when we knew that we'd be here, and he was happy to set aside three days to ski with us here in Andermatt, which by Swedish standards is a mere 'out for coffee' drive from Chamonix. Skiing with a guide is an effective way of maximising your experience when discovering a new place. It is also an effective way of minimising your wallet, but hey - you only live once. We're reasonably seasoned skiers, but Krister is in a totally different league. He spent 150 days on snow last year, and soloed the north face of the Eiger a few winters back. Last Sunday dawned a whiteout and snow, and we took a day off in preparation to restore our legs in preparation for skiing with Krister on Monday morning. On Monday, we woke up to blue skies and lots of fresh. This is both good and bad - good because it's ideal skiing conditions, and bad because it is also ideal avalanche conditions. Today's young hotshot free skiers with fat and rockered skis and resort-honed skills tend to forget that last bit when the snow's been falling.. Although we hadn't seen Krister for a couple of years, he was instantly recognisable at the base of the lift - his hair and beard is proper mountain-man still it seems.
Sarah was convinced from the start that Krister would take us on something that she wouldn't survive, which wasn't helped by the fact that I may have failed to mention to her that I'd told Krister that steep colouirs was high on my wish list. We spent the day doing three big drops around the Gemsstock, the first being a variation of the classic 'Giraffe' - amazing open fields of perfect powder, still largely untouched, and exiting in a colouir. The pole-out was part of the one we'd spent hours on a few days before. The second run took us down the Guspis into neighbouring Hospental after a twenty minutes boot-pack with skis on our packs up the next peak off the top of the Gemsstock lift. More powder, with some wind polish to keep us on our toes. The afternoon saw us in the higher bowl off the Gemsstock lift. The traverse into this drop required some gentle encouragement from Krister in order for Sarah to commit. The fall three inches to the right was unthinkable. We entered through a colouir which opened up into a very steep untouched field of snow and a long run down to what looked like a funnel into an unfeasibly narrow slot between rock walls and only air visible beyond. Well, we (I) asked for colouirs..
Thursday, February 04, 2010
Andermatt pain & pleasure
There's some serious off-piste here, which is good as there's no piste to speak of... The average level of ability here seems higher than many other places we've skied, bar possibly Riksgransen. The nu-skool skis are everywhere - wide as barn door, and rockered at both tip and tail. How do I convince Sarah that I need a new pair? This place consists of a massive, north-facing natural bowl, almost like in Fernie. A single gondola lets you access it, in addition to two token pisted runs back down that few people bother with. There are very few skiers here during the week, meaning that the place doesn't seem to get tracked out very quickly. The last significant snow fall was Tuesday night, and there is still plenty of tracks to be had. On Tuesday we dropped off the back of the top station after the random Swedish boarder (aka Martin, like Sarah also here as he was made redundant) advised that it would be fine on skis, but the exit a tad on the flat side on a board. The top looked too alluring, with untouched powder and clear blue skies. And the top was as good as it looked, but.. the exit was rather flat on skis, too. At least we could release our boot heels, which we were more than thankful for after an hour and a half's worth of poling. We met a band of Norwegians en-route, and two of them had piste bindings. They did not have such a fun day out, cursing their pals with telemarks. The scenery was breathtaking, and some very inviting skinning tracks led up the faces on the opposite side. Yesterday, Martin took us down the Geissberg in poor visibility, as the top gondola was out of action for a few hours. Steep, cut up and bush-lined, it was certainly a challenge. Kudos to Martin for doing it on a board. Later on the weather cleared, and we had the first ace condition access to the main powder bowl. We finished the day down Felsental which is an awesome run back to the village, and eventually we found a place where we could get a gluewein. The village is mercifully free of bars, cool hangouts and apres-ski places. Perhaps this is why there are no Brits here?
All this powder has taken its toll, and the word of the day is 'pain', or in my case possibly 'old age'. Should have gone to the gym more. Hopefully, after a few more weeks of this it subsides. In the mean time, we've retired to the sofa to recover for the afternoon.
Monday, February 01, 2010
Andermatt
So here we are, lots - and I really mean LOTS - of snow. And -22 to test your mettle. Andermatt really could be taken off a hand-painted Swiss chocolate tin. Our apartment really is shiny - it looks brand new, and all IKEA-furnished. In fact, almost everyone here seems to be Scandinavian, too - it's just like home - people speaking Swedish, -22, and IKEA. First day was spent finding our legs in stacks of powder, but poor visibility. Second day - Sarah befriended a random Swedish boarder, who showed us some of the back country - of which there is lots around here. Powder legs coming back. We have a couple of days now to 'warm up' before Krister arrives to show us some of the tours around here - the potential is amazing. Gotta love the Swiss - the trains really are ridiculously punctual, clean, fast and - ok, not that cheap - but the journey here went very much (pun intended) like clockwork.
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