THE COL DE TALÈFRE.
The person who discovered the Col du Géant must have been a shrewd
mountaineer. The pass was in use before any other was known across the
main chain of Mont Blanc, and down to the present time it remains the
easiest and quickest route from Chamounix to Courmayeur, with the
single exception of the pass that we crossed upon the 3d of July for
the first time, which lies about midway between the Aiguille de Triolet
and the Aiguille de Talèfre, and which, for want of a better name, I
have called the Col de Talèfre.
When one looks toward the upper end of the Glacier de Talèfre from the
direction of the Jardin or of the Couvercle, the ridge that bounds the
view seems to be of little elevation. It is overpowered by the colossal
Grandes Jorasses and by the almost equally magnificent Aiguille Verte.
The ridge, notwithstanding, is by no means despicable. At no point is
its elevation less than eleven thousand six hundred feet. It does not
look anything like this height. The Glacier de Talèfre mounts with a
steady incline, and the eye is completely deceived.
In 1864, when prowling about with Mr. Reilly, I instinctively fixed
upon a bent couloir which led up from the glacier to the lowest part of
the ridge; and when, after crossing the Col de Triolet, I saw that the
other side presented no particular difficulty, it seemed to me that
this was the _one_ point in the whole of the range which would afford
an easier passage than the Col du Géant.
We set out from the Montanvert at 4 A. M. upon July 3, to see whether
this opinion was correct, and it fortunately happened that the Rev. A.
G. Girdlestone and a friend, with two Chamounix guides, left the inn at
the same hour as ourselves, to cross the Col du Géant. We kept in
company as far as our routes lay together, and at 9.35 we arrived at
the top of our pass, having taken the route to the south of the Jardin.
Description is unnecessary, as our track is laid down very clearly on
the engraving at the head of this chapter.
Much snow had fallen during the late bad weather, and as we reposed
upon the top of our pass (which was about eleven thousand six hundred
and fifty feet above the level of the sea, and six hundred feet above
the Col du Géant), we saw that the descent of the rocks which
intervened between us and the Glacier de Triolet would require some
caution, for the sun’s rays poured down directly upon them, and the
snow slipped away every now and then from ledge to ledge just as if it
had been water—in cascades not large enough to be imposing, but
sufficient to knock us over if we got in their way. This little bit of
cliff consequently took a longer time than it should have done, for
when we heard the indescribable swishing, hissing sound which announced
a coming fall, we of necessity huddled under the lee of the rocks until
the snow ceased to shoot over us.
We got to the level of the Glacier de Triolet without misadventure,
then steered for its left bank to avoid the upper of its two formidable
ice-falls, and after descending the requisite distance by some old snow
lying between the glacier and the cliffs which border it, crossed
directly to the right bank over the level ice between the two
ice-falls. The right bank was gained without any trouble, and we found
there numerous beds of hard snow (avalanche débris), down which we
could run or glissade as fast as we liked.
Glissading is a very pleasant employment when it is accomplished
successfully, and I have never seen a place where it can be more safely
indulged in than the snowy valley on the right bank of the Glacier de
Triolet. In my dreams I glissade delightfully, but in practice I find
that somehow the snow will not behave properly, and that my alpenstock
_will_ get between my legs. Then my legs go where my head should be,
and I see the sky revolving at a rapid pace: the snow rises up and
smites me, and runs away, and when it is at last overtaken it suddenly
stops, and we come into violent collision. Those who are with me say
that I tumble head over heels, and there may be some truth in what they
say. Streaks of ice are apt to make the heels shoot away, and stray
stones cause one to pitch headlong down. Somehow, these things always
seem to come in the way, so it is as well to glissade only when there
is something soft to tumble into.[62]
[62] In glissading an erect position should be maintained, and the
point of the alpenstock allowed to trail over the snow. If it is
necessary to stop, or to slacken speed, the point is pressed against
the slope, as shown in the illustration.
[Illustration: GLISSADING]
Near the termination of the glacier we could not avoid traversing a
portion of its abominable moraine, but at 1.30 P.M. we were clear of
it, and threw ourselves upon some springy turf, conscious that our
day’s work was over. An hour afterward we resumed the march, crossed
the Doire torrent by a bridge a little below Gruetta, and at five
o’clock entered Courmayeur, having occupied somewhat less than ten
hours on the way. Mr. Girdlestone’s party came in, I believe, about
four hours afterward, so there was no doubt that we made a shorter pass
than the Col du Géant; and I believe we discovered a quicker way of
getting from Chamounix to Courmayeur, or vice versâ, than will be found
elsewhere so long as the chain of Mont Blanc remains in its present
condition.