Youth on the Move 2002: A journey through the Alps
My eyes blink open. The bleary image of a crowed train station hall reminds me that this is not all a dream. Barely three days ago, I was in South Africa, frantically packing for the epic adventure I was about to embark on: A mountaineering youth meet in the Alps. 2:35 in the morning: 32 hours travelling on 2hrs sleep was wearing down my patience: “When are these Italians gonna stop striking and send me a train to Bolzano!” I gazed hopefully up at the television screen: “ Still nothing.” I hugged my rucksack and tried to stay awake, for fear of missing my last chance to join the tour, thus being left to wander around aimlessly, far away from home, in a country where no one’s got the time of day for a kid who only speaks English.
A few hours later, the French Alps are rushing past my window on Simon Dellago’s bus that would take us on a journey of amazing contrasts: 5 countries in 17 days, from the frozen icing on the Mont Blanc massif to the barren lunar landscape of Triglav. 22 young mountaineers of a variety of nationalities would cross the Alps, partly on foot, partly by bus, to experience, and raise awareness about the defining quality of these mountains: “The Alps as a living space.”
The journey proper began in the French Alps in Chamonix. Coming from South Africa, the thing that struck me most about these mountains was the entire culture that is centered on the mountains. The height of summer brought thousands of people to the busy town of Chamonix, below the Mont Blanc massif. At 5:00 am, the cable car up to Aguille du Midi was crammed full of people from all walks of life: Snowboarders, climbers, hikers, and some misguided Eastern Businessmen wearing beautifully starched suits and shiny leather shoes. (Someone ought to tell them that the next stop is an ice tunnel in a 3842m high rock spire above a frozen river of ice) My first experience on ice was a baptism by fire: I had barely figured out how to strap on my crampons when I was hauled unceremoniously down a frozen knife edge along with hundreds of other parties eager to get going before the sun makes glacier travel more dangerous. Once my knees had stopped shaking, I could begin to enjoy myself. I was absolutely elated: my first time feeling the crunch of ice under my boots, this was a big improvement on stomping around in the occasional patch of rapidly melting snow in the Drakensberg winter.
We traversed the Glacier du Géant behind and below Mont Blanc, with amazing views in all directions, weaving our way between crevasses, all the way to the Italian border where we joined a huge number of people taking the cable car down the mountain from Rifugio Torino. We met Simon in the Bus and sped off to Val d’Ayas, where we would climb over into Switzerland, with a view to summit the Breithorn (4165m).
The following day was the most enjoyable for me because it was one of the few days during which we experienced the wildness of the mountains that I love so much. Our hike began in the thick conifer forests that form a vast deep green sea that bathes the lower parts of these mountains. These woods vibrated with energy: flowers and insects of every form and colour dazzled our eyes; clear, cold water plunges in white ribbons over majestic cliffs that stand watch over their little piece of paradise. As we wandered between huge pines, the Italians were explaining the history of the area to me. We walked passed abandoned homesteads built entirely of stone, the roofs and walls still intact, where people had once spent the whole summer leading their cows through the pastures and making cheeses that they would sell when they returned to the city in the winter. Now, sadly all that remains is the tinkling of a few cow bells from the commercial farms on these slopes: almost all of these people have left this way of life, and work in the Fiat industry. I was almost expecting to find Asterix and Obelix, boars on their shoulders marching along the path towards us.
Above 2600m the conifer forest thins into alpine scrub and grassland.
It was a long, hard slog for the rest of the way, as we climbed up to a high
altitude lake: Lago di Bringuez (2530). Flying the South African flag high,
I was the first to plunge into the icy water, and almost passed out from the
cold halfway across the lake! I explained to some of the people that when we
go to our mountains we are often unlikely to see people for 6 or 7 days: this
idea was as foreign to them as Romanian is to me, they really appreciated the
wildness of the mountains more than I did.
Our next objective was to summit the Breithorn in two stages: We set off early for a high altitude mountain hut, just on the Swiss/ Italian border. The previous night I had displaced a flap of torn cartilage from in my knee while sitting in a tent. I knew this day was not going to be easy, I walked the entire route slowly, alone, without stopping. 300m below the hut I put my rucksack down for the first time to remove my Ice axe for the final steep ice slope. A cold horror gripped me. It was missing! No one was be able to tell me how long ago I had dropped I and so I descended all the way past Rifugio Messalama asking people along the way. I found it near the path where I had stopped to watch a block of Ice, second only in size to the one that sunk the titanic, peel away from the end of a glacier and plough its way down into the valley with a sound like thunder.
I finally joined my friends in Rifugio della Guide, at 7:30pm, having done over 4km of ascent and descent that day. Mercifully my rucksack was only 7kg because the hut was so well equipped. I walked in, to be presented with a mug of hot chocolate and was surrounded by friends who were eager to hear my story and fill me in about the Glacier rescue training they had done that afternoon with our two guides, Renato and Heli.
These amazing mountain huts are part of what makes it possible for this culture
of mountaineering to exist, because one does not have to be part of the elite
few mountain hooligans to enjoy high alpine walking at its best. The huts are
like hotels: three stories with mattresses and bedding, a fully stocked bar
with a number of different beers (on tap nogal!) Thus the heaviest rucksack
I carried during the entire trip was 9kg. This, for me, was absolute luxury.
There were over 350 people staying in the hut that night, and so they had to
be fed in two sittings!
And all this perched precariously at the top of a cliff just below 3500m.
Our journey then took us into Switzerland, our hopes to reach the summit of Breithorn (4165m) were dashed as the cold front that had been chasing us caught all the rope teams a few hundred meters from the top and gave us a taste of the view on the inside of a Ping-Pong ball. I managed to keep the South African flag flying, by being only one of two people to fall into a crevasse and have to be puled out. We descended just below the Matterhorn, and spent time at Attermenzen and AlpenRock House (one of the sponsors committed to conservation in the Alps) and then S?ntis. To me, the whole of Switzerland looked like it was meant to be on top of a cake somewhere, everything seemed to knit so tightly and function with the precision of a Swatch watch.
The reforestation project in Obernberg Austria was our next stop, and we left the serious hiking for a while do some climbing and assist in various conservation activities in the mountains around the city. It was time to work together and get to know different people in the group as we planted trees and restored wetlands. I came to love the different characters and cultures of each group of people, each had their own unique contribution to make to the vibrant social atmosphere. We had people between the ages of 14 and 25 from Südtirol, Georgia, Austria, France, Italy, Slovenia, Switzerland, Spain, Ireland and Romania. I was the only African and with the territory came the responsibility of constantly answering questions.
The climax of the trip in terms of publicity was a presentation at the city hall in Landro, Südtirol where the journey had begun. Silke, our fearless leader, related our adventures up until that point, and Reinhold Messner then addressed us on the topic of the value of Mountaineering. The rest of our stay in the Dolomites saw some superb sport climbing and scrambles on the via Ferrata above many famous peaks such as the Drei Zinnen.
From the Dolomites, we traveled to our last mountain: the Triglav in Slovenia. Our hosts in that country were seriously patriotic, and Triglav being the pride and joy of Slovenian mountaineering, they were very keen to give us the best possible experience of Triglav while we were in their care. They were so eager for us to get onto the escarpment while the weather was good that at one stage we sustained over 1000m of ascent without a break. The landscape on the mountain is almost lunar, a vast expanse of course, grey rock and dust, sliced open in deep crevices although there was no water anywhere on the mountain. The Triglav hut was also no small affair: 300 rooms, sleeping more than 20 people each. A full time restaurant, a chapel and all of it driven by power generated by the unrelenting wind. We were treated to fine Slovenian cuisine that gave us the energy for our big summit day. The dawn of our last day in the mountains was exquisite beyond description. The guides themselves said that they had never had a summit day like we had that morning. It couldn’t have been more poignant for our last day. We could see all the way into France to the glaciers where our journey first began, in front of them we could see the Marmalada range in the Dolomites, to the NE we could see the border with Austria where we had been last, and to the South, the Capital Lubljanja and finally our departure point Trieste nestling quietly on the edge of the Adriatic sea.
The descent from Triglav proved to be more tortuous than the ascent, but we savored every last moment together on the mountain. Descending into the forest was an amazing experience after so long in such a harsh landscape, and for the first time I saw a type of tree other than a pine in the forest. The whole of Europe has only 100 species of indigenous trees, in comparison with the 1100 species in South Africa. Another thing we have to appreciate about South Africa.
In Trieste we wandered around doing touristy things, just delaying the moment when we would have to say goodbye. It was amazing just how close the Alps had brought so many different people together: most people had picked up a language or two, built friendships that will last long into the future. I know I would fly all the way to Europe just to share a cup of coffee with any one of our team.
Eventually the time came to journey home: my flight stopped over briefly in Dubai airport (which is actually a large Duty Free shop masquerading as an airport) before returning me to my home country. As Messner said in his address to us:
“Man doesn’t climb a peak just to be up there.
He climbs a peak in order to return to the people.
For some time he leaves his comfortable, safe, environment to climb in a misanthropic
region. This is how he gets the feeling that the normal, ordinary life is worth
living and that one can enjoy it”
Youth on the move was an amazing growth experience for me as a young South African having never been to Europe, and I would encourage all young club members and their parents to make the most of these opportunities that the club provides. I would like to thank the UIAA Youth Commission for all its work in producing a successful meet, for the generous sponsorship of my camp fee, and in particular to all the alpine associations that sponsored us at every destination. Thanks also to the Mountain Club of South Africa for their generous contribution towards my trip. Thanks also to our sponsors, Vaude, Meindl, and AlpenRock House.