Chapter IX: Mountaineering on Ski (4)

In June the lower limits of the _névé_ often show signs of furrowing. The action of the sun forms ridges and furrows producing a wavy effect. These ridges are unpleasant to ski on or to ski over when the snow is hard, but quite harmless when the snow has begun to soften. On steep slopes the ridges run roughly parallel with the fall of the slope. On the level the snow is divided into numberless little hillocks with corresponding holes.

The action is similar on a small scale to the erosive action of water on a large scale. Water furrows an even mountain side with gullies and a more or less level plain with intersecting ravines that produce a series of hills. And just as in the geological cycle the last stage of a mountainous country is a peneplane, so on snow the action of the sun acts on the ridges and hillocks formed by previous action of the sun and once again reduces the surface to a plain. I have seen in winter one heavy rainstorm furrow the hillsides with miniature ridges and a level snow slope with miniature hillocks, and I have seen the next rainstorm--which followed two days later--erode the ridges and hillocks formed by the first storm and once again produce slopes of even contour and levels unbroken by hillocks.

THE SPRING TIME-TABLE

The spring ski-runner has, in general, the choice of two periods of the day for his descent. He can descend in the morning just after the sun has begun to soften the surface of the hard crust, or in the evening when the soft melted snow is beginning to freeze again. If the day’s run ends at some club hut situated at a reasonable height, say 9000-10,000 feet, he can usually leave the hut about dawn and return about midday, for the snow at this height is usually perfect just before midday; or he can time his descent for just before or just after sunset. If he is descending to the valley, it is usually best to time his descent a great deal earlier. In May the snow below 8000 feet softens very quickly directly the sun touches it, and becomes dangerous on steep slopes. In this case, should the snow on the glaciers be film or perforated crust, he can start his descent before the sun has softened the crust, so as to reach the lowest limits of the snow before they have been softened by the sun.

As this is often impossible, it is best to time the descent from the peak to the club hut for midday, or rather before midday, and then to wait in the hut till sunset, and continue the run down to the valley after the sun has set and the snow begun to freeze again. Guides are often dreadfully impatient, and have the greatest objection to spending a long time on the summit of a peak. Many guides seem to regard summit views with studied malevolence, and very few guides really understand spring snow. If, as often happens, the arrival on the summit occurs after midday, it is absurd to spoil a perfect descent by running down in the afternoon. The amateur must exercise reasonable restraint and insist on waiting. There are many things more unpleasant than to lie about on the summit of some great peak for three or four hours studying the changing effect of a May afternoon on distant hills and valleys, what time the snow gradually improves.

Great judgment is required in spring to get the best value out of the descent; it will often pay a party to wait three or four hours for the snow to improve. Summer climbers seldom linger on the summit, for in summer the wind usually makes itself felt, but in May or June one can bask on the top of a peak in shirt sleeves even after the sun has set.

Eastern slopes, of course, are the first to soften in the morning and the first to freeze at night. The best moment to descend varies with the orientation of a slope. It is often possible to choose one of two alternatives,--an eastern or a western route,--and the wise ski-runner can often improve the quality of the descent by a clever choice of line and slope.

Considerable experience is needed after a fresh fall of snow. Snow usually remains powdery for a day or two on north slopes in May or June. Perfect powder snow is by no means the exception in spring; an inch or two of winter powder on spring crust provides a surface which is absolutely unrivalled. When, however, the powder begins to turn into crust the ski-ing may often be difficult. After a snowfall you should try either to find slopes holding winter snow or slopes holding spring snow, but not slopes on which the snow is just changing from powder to crust. You may, for instance, have spent the night at a club hut at a height of 9000 feet above the sea. You have arrived in the middle of June on the first fine day after a snowstorm. The snow near the hut has been thoroughly melted by the sun before your arrival. The weather is clear, and there is a north wind blowing. You may reasonably expect powder snow on north slopes down to about 10,000 feet, so that if you have a choice of an expedition on north snow, say a peak 13,000 feet high, you should attempt it, and you will probably find powder snow most of the way. On the other hand, a peak of the same height that faced south might be an unpleasant condition, powder turning into sticky snow or crust. It might therefore be best to choose a small peak, say 11,000 feet, facing south, and run down below the hut, remounting in the evening. Such an expedition might yield better ski-ing than a high peak.

After a day or two of fine weather all snow, excepting snow on north slopes at a very great height, is transformed into ordinary spring snow. Thenceforward the ski-runner may count on perfect snow, provided he times his descent right.

It is only with forty-eight hours of a snowfall that there is any real difficulty. During such short periods the experienced spring ski-runner will know whether to go for north slopes in the hope of winter snow or for southern slopes, or north slopes at lower altitudes, in search of spring snow.

SUMMER AND AUTUMN SKI-ING

In summer the snowline climbs ever higher, and the scope of the ski-runner is accordingly limited. Climbers who go straight up a peak and down again to the valley will therefore be unwilling to burden themselves with ski; but for a man who spends several days in club huts without ever descending far below the summer snowline, the use of ski for snow-peaks is as valuable as at any other season of the year. Monte Rosa, Ebnefluh, Fiescherhorn, etc., yield quite as good ski-ing down to the club-hut levels in August as in January--better, in fact, for the snow is usually better in August than in January.

Of course the crevasses are more open than in spring, and the greatest care is needed after a fresh fall of snow.

The snow conditions as the summer advances gradually change. July is not unlike June, excepting that there is less snow on the mountains and that the snowline is higher. Otherwise one finds in July all the varieties of spring snow from film crust to granular snow.

On 20 August the sun is at the same altitude as on 20 April, and on 20 September it is at the same altitude as on 20 March. So that towards the end of September we should expect that the sun would be powerless to affect powder snow on north slopes just as it is powerless at the end of March to transform powder into crust on north slopes at reasonably high altitudes.

In August powder snow on north slopes usually remains uncrusted for two or three days after a fall. The wind, which was powerless in May or June, begins to regain its ascendancy. In August one finds at high altitudes on north slopes all the usual effects of wind action that one may observe in April. One does not see the same traces of wind that one observes in January, for the snowfalls are lighter and the sun is stronger, but windboard and rippled snow are common enough in August.

In September and October snow remains powdery unless affected by Föhn on north slopes above 9000 feet.

In October the snowfalls usually begin at the ordinary alpine centres. I have enjoyed perfect ski-ing at Mürren by the middle of October; ski expeditions in the High Alps have also been carried out at this date, though the practice is to be discouraged; for, of course, the glaciers are never so dangerous as in October or November, when the maximum number of crevasses are open and the snow bridges more insecure than at any other period of the year.

In a few years’ time many club huts will be provided with ski, so that the trouble of carrying ski to the summer snowline will no longer exist. When once this obstacle to summer ski-ing is removed, I confidently expect that it will be the exception rather than the rule to see climbers ascending Monte Rosa or similar peaks without ski at any period of the year.

SUMMER SKI

Short summer ski are very useful. A handy size is about 5½ feet in length. Such ski are very light and easily carried, and can be tied on between the rucksack and the back. They are becoming very popular, and have a great future.

On hard snow short ski are nearly as fast and as steady as long ski. On soft snow they are, of course, nothing like so fast, and are apt to be jerky and unpleasant if the snow varies in density or in speed. On steep slopes of soft snow they are quite as good as long ski, for they are very easy to turn; and so long as the slope is steep enough to descend with continuous turns, short ski are as good or better than long ski. It is on gradual slopes of soft snow or crust that their disadvantage is marked.

They are amazingly handy for really steep narrow slopes, such as gullies. On short summer ski one can descend a gully 40 degrees steep and about 12 feet wide with sharp continuous turns. Stemming turns and Christianias are ridiculously easy.

Mountaineers who have never been on ski will find short ski quite easy to manage. A man who can glissade with safety down a steep gully will be able to ski almost at once on good snow and on easy slopes without too many falls, and should be able to make slow turns on short ski after a day or two’s practice. Provided the snow is good, the average _névé_ is an ideal practice-ground for beginners owing to the absence of obstacles.

Even very short ski, 3 feet or 4 feet in length, are a great deal better than no ski. On steep slopes they are most useful, and even on gentle slopes, provided the snow is hard, one can get a really fine run on a pair of ski no more than a yard in length.

FOOTNOTES:

[18] I may perhaps refer the reader to my own book _Cross Country Ski-ing_ (Methuen) or to V. Caulfeild’s book _How to Ski_ for the technique of ski-ing.

[19] I am ignorant of physics and should be glad to have this guess corroborated by a physicist.

[20] Eastern slopes retain powder snow rather longer than western slopes, possibly because the morning sun is less powerful than the evening sun, as the atmosphere warms up as the day proceeds. Further, as the prevailing alpine winds blow from the west, slopes that face east are less often spoiled by wind than those which face west.

[21] Sometimes when the night is unusually mild the crust is not sufficiently firm, and at the first touch of sun, it does not merely melt superficially producing Telemark crust, but gives under the ski and yields very nasty running. This is usually the case at _low_ altitudes in May.

[22] As the prevailing alpine winds blow from the west, western rock ridges and rock faces are usually more free from snow than eastern ridges. See footnote, p. 409.

[23] As the middle of the glacier moves faster than the sides, and as the line of cleavage is at right angles to the line of tension, lateral crevasses, contrary to what casual deduction might suppose, run backwards from the side of the glacier to the centre.

[24] Provided that the night has been cloudless. An overcast sky, or Föhn, will only produce a very weak crust which gives at once when the sun rises. See footnote on p. 415. A couple of hours of a cloudless sky is, however, quite enough to produce a good firm crust at night.