Wednesday, April 4, 2007

How Do I Top This?

Spending time out on your own in the woods, mountains, desert, canyons, whatever . . you're supposed to be a little bit independent, be responsible for yourself, maybe be a little tougher than the average WalMart shopper. But it was a bit of a stretch going to Europe to hike. Language, strange terrain, new methods, a larger magnitude and scale of the task, all created doubts. And how would we relative neophytes measure up against our fellow hikers? All of these factors keep most of us from even considering such a trip. But we felt comfortable going along with Melinda, for she had seen our abilities and would warn us off if it was too much for us. At least we hoped so.

Even prior to going on the trip, I Googled "Walker's Haute Route" and found several people's accounts of their trips. The one by Dawn DuPriest is a good one, as is Chris Parson's. They show that the trip is not without its challenges. But all were proud of being out there trying it. One thing emerged as a constant: a book by Kev Reynolds, "Chamonix-Zermatt, the Walker's Haute Route," by Cicerone Press is clearly the authoritative guidebook on the subject. So $17 later I was looking over my own copy. Only one problem: Kev's books are addictive, but more on that later.

One way to do trips like this is "on your own." That would be a challenging task, finding all the route information and all. But Kev's book does most of that work for you. About the only other things you will need is a couple of the great Swiss topo maps, specifically 5003 and 5006, at 1:50,000 scale. That and a cell phone to call ahead and arrange for lodging along the way and some cash and credit cards and your gear and you're ready to go. But we didn't know all of this then and were lacking in fortitude, so we opted to go with Melinda, who had the whole trip all planned out and arranged, itinerary, reservations, luggage transport, etc. Lots of info on what we needed to bring, advice on rail passes, conditioning tips, and an instant group of fellow trekkers with the same ambitions. In looking back on it, I think she ended up saving us money via group discounts or something, as our accomodations were superb, and it certainly made our lives easier. The only real pre-trip anxiety was centered on whether or not this was going to be too much for us. That and the daily question of how big an effort would be required the next day.

Now many "commercial" firms offer the "same" trek as a package. There are many variations on the route, and Kev's book shows almost all of them, so it can sometimes be tough to compare one to another. But the commercial ones rarely do the entire route. You read about the 180 kilometer Walker's Haute Route, but then you do only 100 kilometers of it, with all of these bus jumps along the way. Hey, whatever floats your boat. But Melinda's package was easily the most cost-effective, with 16 nights of food and lodging and 13 days of hiking for $2100, or $131 per day, and covered the entire route. REI offers a lesser package of 9 nights and 6 days of hiking for $2900/$322 per day. Sobek Mountain Travel: 9 nights, 7 hiking for $3200/$372 per day. I guess if you want a shorter, quicker version, it costs more. Have to get back to the rat race to make the money to pay for it. And you will honestly be able to say you hiked "part of" the Walkers' Haute Route.

The start of the trip begins well over a month before you leave, as you have to get a little serious about some conditioning. We're fortunate enough to live where we can hike uphill vigorously within 30 minutes of the house, and the local YMCA has Stepmills, those wonderful sweat-inducing moving stairways. It was a little discouraging early on when I found myself panting along at a good pace going up the local 2000' peak when some woman dressed casually in slacks, long sleeve shirt and straw hat and sneakers motors on past me with no apparent effort. But when you have to hike over 3000' passes on many days, carrying some weight on your back, you don't want to find your inadequacies when it is too late to do something about it. So I had to sacrifice some of those golf course strolls for some more serious trails. Whatever you do, it will help. The everyday ruts most of us are stuck in seldom include climbing uphill for 3-4 hours every morning, to be followed by going down the other side each afternoon.

So there is some suffering involved in this undertaking. But there is an even greater payoff in the accomplishment. This is truly an experience you will remember forever, unless, like I hope to, you start to get addicted to it and go on to wipe out its memory by piling on a whole bunch of ever-greater adventures. I am looking forward to that prospect.

One of the more interesting parts of the trip is the dynamics of the group of fellow hikers. The web accounts mentioned above of individuals or small groups traveling independently tell of how they end up hiking more or less in synch with each other, and over the course of a week or so small groups of one or two or three are really bonded together in their shared adventure. One advantage of a leaderless random grouping is that there is no imperative to keep things together, so the pace of the day's hiking is quite elastic, coming together again after the day's travels. An organized group is more challenging, as getting 8-10 people to travel at a compatible pace can be tough. The "racehorses" and the "cabooses" create a natural tension. On sunny days, no big deal for the leaders to rest in the sun on a high pass with great views while others catch up. But when you're in the clouds and the wind is blowing, it can be a very big deal. Another reason to do that pre-conditioning.

Each day has a similar rythym. Sleeping isn't as sound as it is at home, as the mind often races in anticipation of what lies ahead. Or in the cabanes up in the mountains, sharing your room with several others is always interesting, what with snores, bathroom journeys, etc. And maneuvering through the bathroom dance with a bunch of others is another exercise each morning. But you adapt to it. Everyone gathers for a communal breakfast, and then it is time to pack things up and head on out to resume the trek. More often than not that means some uphill effort. Clothes are shed as the bodies heat up and the day warms. But much of the path is above timberline, so the views are generally good, often fantastic. There will be times when you marvel how many rocks there are in the world. You seek to pace yourself, timing your inhale/exhale with your steps -- two steps on the inhale, two more on the exhale, which is a moderate pace. A one step inhale, one stop exhale is a steep pace. Stop and rest every 10 breaths is quite steep. There will be some of each. Hopefully your breathing is the main problem. Adding on things like blisters or sunburn or a sore knee take some of the joy out of the effort. Again, that conditioning payoff comes into play, as does Ibuprofin.

Someone will emerge as the "caboose." Hopefully they will handle the role well. That will mean staying cheerful, which can be hard. The main thing is to be aware of the needs of the others who have been waiting for you. Get your bathroom break taken care of quickly, and then you can rest. The others are mostly rested, anxious to proceed. The "caboose" doesn't get the same amount of rest time as the others. In the minds of the bulk of the group, he or she has been resting while walking. The best "caboose" of all catches up and keeps on going, maybe saying "give me a bit of a head start so I can have some privacy up ahead." That would build in an additional delay for the rest of the group, as who wants to catch up to them while they are "occupied" behind a nearby bush or rock. Then the "caboose" falls back in line as they pass. The good leader keeps track of who is in which role, and reigns in the "racehorses," and maybe even sticks the "caboose" right behind the leader, to better gauge the person's state, and to allow the peer pressure from behind to come into play. Those who are still part of the train are much more motivated than those who have fallen hopelessly behind.

At some point about midway through the day, things start to head downhill, which is a GOOD thing. The stress goes from the legs and lungs to the toes and knees, and downhill agility is highlighted. The sun is higher, maybe now behind you. Soon the destination is in sight, which creates another burst of energy. Sometimes that is needed, as some of the cabanes are located up on ridges, requiring you to scale a little "kicker" to finish off the day. But the prospect of finishing is a great motivator, and there is always just a little bit of adrenaline left. Then the packs come off, maybe the boots, and the refreshments emerge. Some lounging, some cleaning of bodies and clothes, some chatter, card games, reading, a local exploratory hike for some of the more fit members of the party. Soon a nice communal dinner, some more games, chatter, showers for those who had beer earlier, then off to bed. For tomorrow another leg begins. And new sights to see. This is the Alps! And you haven't even thought of George Bush or Iraq the entire day.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

you did it?
atlanticcityphotographer.com

steve said...

Absolutely! And now I am trying to do it again. Wanna come along? Go to Melinda's site, goodwatersadventures.com, and read all about it.