I’m back in Chamonix, my winter home. I look up into the mountains every so often, and remind myself of where I am, and what I’ve chosen to do with my life. Yesterday I was driving a bus, and today I’m about to skin up 1000m, rope up to make a tricky rock travers to a narrow col, before abseiling into a steep couloir in order to descend the glacier the other side. This is not and easy ski tour but it is certainly one of my favourites.
"Yesterday I was driving a bus, and today I’m about to skin up 1000m"
The sun was warm, and the snow reflected the intense bright rays even more. Inching up the mountain side, sliding our skis under our feet. Skins stuck to the base of my skis, doing a great job at gripping the now slushy mid morning snow. The steep slope can’t be climbed directly, but instead negotiated with dozens of zig zags. On each corner you stamp your skis into the snow, ensuring you’ve created a stable platform for the up and coming kick turn. Spread your poles wide for balance, pull your first leg back, flick your ski, rotate it 180 degrees, and stamp it again for a firm footing, and repeat with the following leg. A good skier can make this look elegant, simple even. It’s not! A little slip mid kick or catch a tip, and you’ll be sliding in a tangle of skis and poles, strait back down to the base of the climb where you started.
At last after a few hours of sweating we stop to peel the skins off the base of our skis, strap them onto our rucksacks, and don our harnesses and crampons. You can’t help but feel a little off balance with the weight now strapped to your packs.
The col is just big enough for our team of three to gather and peer down into the steep couloir. We’re clipped onto a clump of tat, and flake out the rope in preparation for our abseil. The view from hear is breath taking. I can look directly across to Mont Blanc, and take in the full panoramic of the Mont Blanc Massiff. Crisp white peaks jut into the sky as far as the eye can see.
The snow feels good. Chalky and grippy. It's steep. Super steep! I know I’ve got this, but I cant help but remind myself not to mess up my turns. I jump turn my way down the narrow snow band until it breaks out of the couloir and onto a snow slope. Still steep but from hear I can enjoy carving through the powder with less consequence. I wait for the others to follow in my tracks. When they arrive, their faces beam with the shear adventure of it all.
" A cape Doning, Baddie Fighting, Super Hero"
Mountaineering is challenging. You get a great sense of satisfaction at the summit, but what lies ahead of us now is pure joy. 2500m of beautiful untouched backcountry skiing. The steep slopes slopes open out, route choice is endless. I point the tips of my skis down and I'm off. The weightless-ness. The smooth sensation of gliding. The sound of speed as it whistles past my ears. It's hard to describe how exquisite powder skiing in fresh snow feels. It’s a rush that courses through your veins, A natural high which plasters a ridiculous grin on your face for the world to see. Involuntary whoops of exhilaration are unleashed as you carve effortlessly from one turn to another. You feel like a hero, a cape donning, baddie fighting super hero!
In what feels like seconds you've descended thousands of metre. Careful to pick our way through the steep maze of crags on the lower slopes we drop into the woods. From hear we follow a crazy single track trail, with snow burms, stream crossings and switch backs that pick a route through the thick trees. Getting spat out at the very bottom of the valley. I bend down to unclip my skis, and gasp with release as I liberate my feet from the tight hold of my boots. I glance across at my friends ski before standing back up. A bold statement is tattooed on to the tip of his ski.
Heros Ski These!
Dreaming up adventures is easy, making them happen is relatively strait forward, doing them can be a challenge, but the hardest decision by far, is when to admit defeat.
When I look at this picture it takes me strait back to that moment. The emotion, the hardship and the adventure. I was uncomfortable, really really uncomfortable. If there had been an easy option for getting out at that moment, I may well have taken it.
There is a thin invisible line which separates adventure, from misadventure. When your playing with the elements and tickling the edge of your comfort zone, you can stumble over this line without any warning. Consequences can be serious, but the learning can be invaluable.
This week I have found myself stumbling over the misadventure line more than once.
Having laughed sooooo hard at some of Unlipped Adventures Cartoons (my most favourite Blog to read). I got inspired.
Whilst driving my bus, I sometimes run out of serious things to think about. Soo I ended up laughing at myself for all the funny places I have taken a wash. Mainly inspired by my not so bashful friend Bekx, my wash buddy in Corsica.
Now don't panic! I wont be giving up my day job, whether that be as a bus driver (which I am terrible at) or kayak coach. Buuuut.....I do feel it has potential for a documentary tho.
Fear of the unknown is natural, and recently looking at my blank diary for this coming summer the anxiety set in. I have been making a lot of changes recently, wanting new challenges in deferent places, and the uncertainty of freelance work is at the forefront of my mind. I may even go as far as saying I was stressing about it!
When in actual fact, this is such a negative view point. Surly having an open diary is opening you up to new opportunities. Having the freedom to say YES, when the right one comes along.
Outdoor Girl and Adventurer. Enjoy stories from her coaching, talking and exploring.