Today I found my personal limits!
An easy climb for our guide Christophe and Graeme - that I found very difficult. The route to Pointe Bassac Sud - 3460m involved steep skinning on hard snow.
Unfortunately, my fear of "slipping" let me down and I made slow progress up the peak. Even despite the extra "bite" of my new ski crampons, I found that I really lost my nerve, especially when we were transversing a very steep slope with a cliff below. Try as might, I could not get the vision of me sliding uncontrollably down the slope and over the rocks!!
2/A break at a flat spot on way to Pointe Bassac Sud
To add insult to injury, I was ashamed to find myself being passed by the nimble 69 year old Mario, who was out for his daily run. He had started over an hour behind us after doing some cleaning and food preparation at the refuge. No fear of slipping from this this mountain goat, he strode past me without even breaking a sweat. Typical.... he wanted first tracks!!
But despite all the doom in my head, it was another perfect day. Bright sunshine and a gentle northerly breeze. The boys burnt me off at about 3200m and continued up the ice and rock scramble to the summit of Bassac Sud on foot. I was pleased to see that Christophe put a rope on Graeme as they climbed together, although with Graeme at 6'4" and Christophe considerably smaller, I did rather wonder what Christophe would do if my surefooted hubby did actually trip? I guess it's a moot point as both boys had no problems. Graeme managed the last 200m climb with ease! He is my hero!!
In the meantime I dug myself into the snow and passed the time watching the aerobatic antics of a big Eagle and a small group of Choughas who really wanted to eat the bread that I had left for them, but were too shy to land while I was there. I really like these Chougha's. They are excellent pilots. To me, it seems that they are really just flying about for pleasure, using the wind currents to lift and float them above the mountains.
2/ Graeme atop Pointe Bassac Sud - 3460m. Mont Blanc is the highest peak in the background
No sooner than the boys returned to pick me up and we had our skis on for the run down the hill. Christoph wanted to make sure the sun wasn't going to ruin the pockets of shaded powder that he had spied on the way up. Poor Graeme barely had time to catch his breath before we were hurtling down the mountain back to the refuge.
Graeme skied like a champion. He must have been exhausted but he linked turn after turn. In contrast, I skied dreadfully. After a day of adrenaline pumping through my system, my legs were like jelly and were no longer taking instructions from the brain above! In the end, I gave up trying to be stylish and opted for the "speed is best" approach. "Point 'em" down the hill and get down asap! After all, I had the incentive of a hot shower and a delicious 4 course Italian feast awaiting me!!
Well at least that's what I thought. But Graeme and Christoph wanted to practice our rope skills. The sun's last rays had left the refuge by this stage and we had to practice our crevasse rescue in the chill of the early evening. Nothing like freezing to death to add a bit of "realism" to the practice session. Did I mention that hot shower and big feed? That was all I could think about towards the end. Christoph must have also been thinking similarly. I could have kissed him when he suggested we take the rope inside and practice some more knots over a glass of Italian red!! What a guide!
After another delicious Italian feast, Graeme and I were so tired we literally collapsed into our beds, to dream about the next day!
No comments:
Post a Comment