Chamonix To Zermatt 

The Haute Route

22nd August 1994

Gruben Meiden to St Niklaus.

The Mattertal….. Almost Zermatt

The valleys that we descended into at the end of every day were so deep that weather forecasting was quite difficult. At any one time, from the valley bottom, we could only see a few hours worth of weather to come and certainly not what the day ahead would hold for us. So it was with a little caution that we set out on this, the penultimate day of the trip. The previous day had been very hot and it still felt a little humid, even this early in the morning. There had been a thunder storm overnight but we hadn't heard much of it as the snoring from our neighbour drowned out the noise of the thunder. As we left the hotel at 07.30 and started to climb, what was left of the clouds seemed to be moving away down the valley. When we cleared the steep valley sides and the tree line, the view opened out and the weather was still improving. We could see now that it was set fair for the day and we pressed on with renewed confidence. Our lack of sleep didn’t seem to be holding us back and my disbelief that anyone person could make so much noise and be totally unaware of it, began to diminish. The further away we got from the hotel, the funnier the whole episode started to look.

There were no problems identifying the path, today it was a very quiet but very obvious route. The track lead into a boulder filled combe with patches of melting snow. Above us we could see our route all the way up to the pass quite clearly. We quickly gained ground on a group of about eight people, all walking slowly in a line, passing them on one of their many rest stops. One of them was using an umbrella for shade. As we looked back at them from a distance, they created a strange and alien looking image that seemed to belong to another place and time. It was really just the use of the sun shade and the walking in line that made it look like a scene reminiscent of  the days of The Raj as they slowly made their way up the mountain. They were the only people we saw all morning, we were over the pass and well down the other side before we met another soul. We were however greeted by a very friendly flock of angora sheep, looking magnificent with their black faces, twisted horns and thick wooly fleeces. Their approach was totally without caution and almost amounted to a charge they were so enthusiastic. They were obviously interested in what food we might have to share with them, but due to there being no shops in Gruben Meiden, rations were rather scarce for us, so I’m afraid we had to leave them disappointed.

Every pass presents a new vista, a new world of mountains to identify, a whole new breathtaking experience. The Augsbord Pass was no exception, it was possibly one of the most impressive of the whole walk, it felt like the best one had been saved for the final crossing, but it would be unjust to make comparisons of excellence and this particular view was about to  get even better  as we progressed. It was always a relief to reach the pass and see what the path was like down the other side. At this height deep snow can lay in the gullies even into August. The guide book had warned us that the eastern side of the Augsbord Pass was prone this, depending on how the previous winter had been. Looking down from the pass we could see some snow fields across our route ahead, but nothing that was likely to trouble us. Some of the snow was tinged with pink which looked a bit odd, but we later found out that it is a micro bacteria that can grow in old snow, making it take on a shade of pink. It was hard not to feel a surge of euphoria at the Augsbord Pass as this was the last pass to be crossed on our marathon walk. It seemed highly  unlikely that anything could get in our way now.The guide book did mention some exposed sections further along the path as it contoured around the corner of the mountain into the Mattertal, so we fought to keep our euphoria under wraps for now.

The terrain of the high mountain was very rocky as usual, glacial debris, like great natural tips of boulders and slabs piled on top of each other for evermore. The path was an old trade route that had been laid out using some of the flat slabs to form a pathway. In some places it was very distinct, in others the mountain was fighting back, the wild nature of the place was undeniable. We met one or two people going the other way, they were all from one party but had got strung out along the way. The party leader stopped to exchange a few words, asking if we had spent the night at the Schwarzhorn, we didn't like to tell her to avoid room sixteen at all costs. She then asked us where the others were which puzzled us a bit, but before we had chance to work out what she meant, she quickly answered her own question by saying that they must be further back. We didn't argue with her as we didn’t really understand the question. Being somewhat wary of the ‘exposed’ path ahead I enquired about how bad it was and where it occurred. We were assured that there were no problems ahead, “It’s an ancient trade route you know” came the reply. We did know, but by now we were struggling to get a word in edgeways. As we walked off in the opposite direction to the tour guide that knew everything, we reflected on how nice it is to travel alone, just the two of us, no one else, save for the odd brief encounter.

The Augsbord Pass

There is a point on this path where it turns around a corner of the mountain and suddenly, there before you is the whole of the Mattertal spread out below. It is a breath taking sight. From the Grosser Aletsch Gletcher on the far side of the Rhone valley up to the left, right up to the Briethorn to our right, with The Dom, the highest mountain wholly in Switzerland, directly across the valley. There was a cairn here at this most wonderful of viewpoints where, over the centuries many travellers must have stopped to gaze at the wonder of the sights around them. We removed our packs, very unusual for the time of day, they usually stayed on until we had reached our destination. But now we could see the rest of our route, it suddenly felt like we had done it! Nothing could stop us now, tomorrow we would walk the last few miles along the valley to Zermatt. We sat down, time didn't matter anymore, now all our deadlines were behind us. It was one of the most moving moments of the whole walk as we thought back of all we had seen in the past couple of weeks. Chamonix seemed like a long way behind us now, Trient and Champex like a lifetime away. All those magnificent mountains and valleys behind us mixed with the magnificence of the sheer spectacle of all that was there before us. And then, the feeling that our goal was within our grasp…

The view along The Mattertal

From there it was still a long way down to St Niklaus, approximately five thousand feet and we still had to get there, so eventually we reloaded and continued along the ancient trade route. The way was still paved in places which was a constant reminder of it’s past use and its importance in connecting one valley to the next. No sooner had Irene said “I wonder how long it is since a pack horse last travelled this route?”, when a man leading a heavily laden mule appeared, heading up the track towards us. I cant imagine where he was heading and I’m not at all sure where he came from, there was an almost eerie feel about his sudden appearance. Eventually the path lead us into the small mountain village of Jungen, accessible only on foot or by cable car. We wandered slowly through the village towards the cable car, just to see if it was running. It didn’t appear to be working but on closer inspection we found that it was necessary telephone down to the bottom station to summon the gondola. Well once we had made that call to enquire when the next one would run, it was on it’s way up to us. We could hardly say no now could we? And neither did we want to, today it felt ok to take a ride for a change after another eight hours of walking. The gondola was tiny with seating room for four passengers and when we were joined by two elderly Swiss people, together with our large packs, it became a bit of a squeeze, we were crammed in like sardines.

Heading down to St Niklaus

It was very hot down in St Niklaus when we spilled out of the cable car and we wandered the streets looking for a suitable hotel. We were surprised to find very little choice and after walking around the village for half an hour we booked into the Hotel Monte Rossa. It was a self contained apartment with its own kitchen and a pair of skis on the balcony… just in case I guess. The meal that night was….  interesting…. unusual…. no, it was awful! There was only one word for it, awful! It was mostly meat that seemed to have been boiled together with the vegetables. We decided to skip breakfast the next morning and tried to settle the bill with the excuse that we needed an early start. It didn’t work, he wouldn’t hear of us starting the day on an empty stomach. After the meal we had just eaten it seemed like the best option, but we couldn’t refuse, breakfast it seemed was compulsory.

Breakfast was also magnificent, such a contrast from the night before. Sugar puffs and plain Swiss yoghurt, several hams, sausage, cheese, boiled eggs, freshly baked bread, jam, honey, croissants. If only I had realised at the time how much weight I had lost on this walk, I would have eaten all of it. As it was I left a slice of ham in a vain attempt not to appear too greedy.

tomorrow…

The Final Countdown... walking up to Zermatt.