8.2.2004
THE HILLS ARE ALIVE
(with the sound of cowbells)
Day 5 here at Rifugio Boccalatte, a mountain hut perched at 9,000 feet in the Italian Alps near the border of France and Switzerland. It’s expertly managed by our good friends Luke and Lucy (who we met in Antarctica). The hut serves food and sleeping quarters for serious mountaineers here to climb the Grand Jorasses – one of the classic “4,000 meter” routes.
Unlike the climbers, we took the easy way up – via helicopter. Hands down the most exciting flight of my life. I felt like a rock star. Our arrival coincided with the hut’s re-supply, so this was our reward for helping with the shopping.
As I type, Erik’s out on the porch watching one of five French climbers paraglide down from the 13,802 ft. summit. Their guide (also French) has climbed up and paraglided down the world’s highest 7 summits. Like I said, serious climbers.
Yesterday at 4AM “The Spanish” finally arrived back at the hut after 27 hours of climbing. Some groups finish in 9 hours. There was another group behind them that were in trouble – and a helicopter arrived shortly after 5 AM for the rescue.
It’s been deliciously relaxing being here with nothing much to do but sit perched on the porch watching the glacier spill into the green Valle D’Aoste below; moving from inside to outside in tidelike fashion with the sun. Lucy pops in and out delivering bottles of mineral water to climbers and serving soup to middle-aged excursionists; answering the phone in her delightfully boisterous Italian, “REFUGIOBOCCALLATE,BONJOURNO!”
We’ve done some short hikes above the hut – I actually set foot on a glacier! I’ve been enjoying doing minor domestic tasks: dishes, mending, making cookies with Lucy. Comforting after so many months on the road. Erik and Luke have regressed to pre-pubescent activities, shooting off their homemade potato gun and watching the grey water splat out onto the rocks after flushing the toilet.
Tomorrow we’ll leave our gracious host and hike back down to the valley of cows.
(with the sound of cowbells)
Day 5 here at Rifugio Boccalatte, a mountain hut perched at 9,000 feet in the Italian Alps near the border of France and Switzerland. It’s expertly managed by our good friends Luke and Lucy (who we met in Antarctica). The hut serves food and sleeping quarters for serious mountaineers here to climb the Grand Jorasses – one of the classic “4,000 meter” routes.
Unlike the climbers, we took the easy way up – via helicopter. Hands down the most exciting flight of my life. I felt like a rock star. Our arrival coincided with the hut’s re-supply, so this was our reward for helping with the shopping.
As I type, Erik’s out on the porch watching one of five French climbers paraglide down from the 13,802 ft. summit. Their guide (also French) has climbed up and paraglided down the world’s highest 7 summits. Like I said, serious climbers.
Yesterday at 4AM “The Spanish” finally arrived back at the hut after 27 hours of climbing. Some groups finish in 9 hours. There was another group behind them that were in trouble – and a helicopter arrived shortly after 5 AM for the rescue.
It’s been deliciously relaxing being here with nothing much to do but sit perched on the porch watching the glacier spill into the green Valle D’Aoste below; moving from inside to outside in tidelike fashion with the sun. Lucy pops in and out delivering bottles of mineral water to climbers and serving soup to middle-aged excursionists; answering the phone in her delightfully boisterous Italian, “REFUGIOBOCCALLATE,BONJOURNO!”
We’ve done some short hikes above the hut – I actually set foot on a glacier! I’ve been enjoying doing minor domestic tasks: dishes, mending, making cookies with Lucy. Comforting after so many months on the road. Erik and Luke have regressed to pre-pubescent activities, shooting off their homemade potato gun and watching the grey water splat out onto the rocks after flushing the toilet.
Tomorrow we’ll leave our gracious host and hike back down to the valley of cows.
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