avalanche point of view. In January the fresh snow is apt to slide
before it has settled. A few days after a new snowfall, most of the
avalanches will have come down and the ordinary runs will be safe
again, but every snowfall entails the same risk. There are some slopes
where the snow will never stay in February, but unless a Föhn wind or
rain make the snow heavy, most slopes are pretty safe below a gradient
of 25°.
In March when the thaw begins more avalanches will fall. These usually
come down well-known tracks and can easily be avoided for this reason.
This chapter may appear to be somewhat intimidating, but it is better
to be safe than sorry. Very few experienced Ski runners get into
avalanches and if ordinary precautions are taken and the advice of
experts followed beginners need have no fear.
The Ski-ing maps usually show the more dangerous places, but every
runner should keep his own eyes open and learn all he can of
snow-craft in order to be able to explore new country as he becomes
proficient.
ACCIDENTS
Some people will think that I lay too much stress on the dangers of
Ski-ing. Considering the thousands of people who ski every Winter and
the extraordinarily small number of accidents, I admit that I have
exaggerated the dangers. But I do so quite deliberately because it is
only by realizing risks that they can be avoided, and my experience
proves to me that the average town-bred man and woman, boy and girl
have very little appreciation of life lived up against Nature. They
set out so lightheartedly and often so fool-hardily on an expedition,
without telling anyone where they propose to go, or when they expect
to be home, and without having provided themselves with the extra
equipment which may prove to be very necessary before the day is
finished.
While writing this book I have constantly had in mind Ski-ing centres
above 5,000 feet, whence tours are made among the glaciers and at high
levels where the cold may be a danger during the months of January and
February. Much of what I have said of the necessity of carrying spare
clothing in good quantity does not apply so much to places below 5,000
feet unless high tours are undertaken. But wherever people ski there
is a possibility of accidents due to falls, and though these are
seldom serious, they need attention.
When someone is really lamed by knee or ankle, Ski-ing becomes very
difficult, except to the expert, who can ski mainly on one foot, and
walking through the deep snow, sinking at every step, is an agony, so
that some form of stretcher becomes necessary.
Two or, better still, four Skis tied together, side by side, form an
excellent sledge, which will travel straight downhill every easily.
It practically refuses to traverse a slope so that the case has to be
slipped straight down to the bottom of the slope and along the valley
or level below.
Skis usually have holes through the flat part of the tip in front.
A piece of strong wire should be threaded through these, care being
taken that the Skis lie parallel their whole length and that the tips
are not drawn together too much. A stick must be tied to the wire and
the Ski tips to keep them in position and to take the pull when the
sledge is drawn along. If there are trees about, a branch can be cut
to serve this purpose. If not, a Ski stick must be cut in half and
used. It should not project beyond the Skis on either side, or it will
catch in the snow.
The other half of the Ski stick or another branch must be tied across
the Skis, by the toe irons, to keep the Skis parallel there also, and
to give solidity to the sledge. People sometimes tie a strap or string
round the Skis, including their running surfaces, forgetting that this
will soon cut through with the friction of the snow.
To finish the sledge, put some fir branches on it, the bushy part of
which will make it more comfortable to lie on. The thick wood of the
branch part should point towards the front of the Skis and be fixed
there. If branches are not available, Rucksacks can be used for the
injured person to lie on. He will probably be more comfortable going
downhill if he can be laid head-first downwards on the sledge.
To draw the sledge along, join a lap thong or sealskin or rope or
puttee to the outer Ski tips, and also to the ends of the stick across
them. In order to prevent this from pulling these Skis forward too
much it is well to tie a string to the inner Ski tips also and join
them to the pulling rope.
Another rope or thong should be attached to the stick and centre toe
irons, so that this can be held from behind to prevent the sledge
travelling too fast downhill. Experienced runners will be able to
travel on Skis while getting this sledge down, but beginners will do
well to wade on foot, especially the rear man, who has to control the
speed. Neither the pulling nor control rope should be attached to the
body of the person holding it because a sudden jerk may pull him over
and the sledge be stopped suddenly with a jar to the person hurt.
Most club huts are provided with excellent ambulance sledges, which
may be used, and which should be conscientiously returned to the
Rettungschef of the locality.
There is a Rettungschef in every mountainous district whose duty it is
to help with accidents when these are reported to him. He arranges to
send out Guides and porters with an ambulance sledge to the assistance
of any party in trouble. If, therefore, your accident be a serious
one, and you are far from home, the wisest plan may be to send one or
two of the best runners down to the nearest village for help, while
the remainder stay with the injured person. For this reason it is
always unwise to go out with fewer than three in a party. Five or six
are a better number on a long day's run.
Remember the people waiting at home, and when you have made
arrangements for help to go to your party ring up your friends and
tell them what has happened and what you have arranged. Having often
seen the anxiety of relations and friends when their party comes home
late, I know how important this is. Even if you are only delayed for
some small reason such as a train being late, it is kind to ring up,
and this is easily done, as there are telephones in almost every
village.
While on this subject I would again like to urge that before going off
on an expedition of any length the Concierge and someone should be
told in writing the destination, the route, and the hour anticipated
for return. Then, if the party does not turn up and no news comes
through, a search party can be sent out with some hope of finding
them within a reasonable time. Time is very important in January
and February, when the weather is cold, as people can be badly
frost-bitten if benighted.
Search parties are expensive luxuries, as it is risky work for the
Guides, who deserve to be well paid for it. I have only once followed
a Rettungschef with his five assistants and their ambulance sledge,
and shall never forget the pace at which their lantern went ahead of
us, dancing like a will-of-the-wisp. A runner had come home at 5 p.m.
with news that one of the party had hurt his knee some four miles from
home. This runner had already wisely rung up the Rettungschef from the
first house he came to, and a party of Guides was being collected. I
decided to go out with some friends in case the accident was a serious
one and we could bring the remainder of the party home, and so save
the Guides that duty. They were all beginners who were benighted.
We followed the lantern and saw it stop and knew the Guides had
reached the people in trouble. When we caught up they already had the
patient looking like a mummy, rolled up in blankets in a canvas bag on
the sledge. I could hear him choking over the brandy which was being
poured down his throat. He had only hurt his knee, but his friends,
who were all real novices, had had a wearing time getting him down.
The way in which the Guides handled the job filled me with admiration
and confidence. When they found we were ready to herd the party home,
they shot off with their sledge and the lantern soon became a speck of
light in the distance again.
I also had a lantern that night, and found it delightful to ski by,
but doubt whether anyone else profited much by its light except as a
guide to direction.
When a person is hurt and helpless at a high level, in winter, cold is
the most immediate danger, and all spare clothing should be piled on
him, and his limbs should be rubbed to prevent frost-bite. When he
cannot be moved, a fire might well be lit if below tree level where
wood is available, because, though the lighting of fires is forbidden
in the Swiss forests, a breach of the law would surely be overlooked
in case of danger to life. The heat of the fire would help to keep
the patient warm, while its light would act as a beacon to the search
party.
The following is the code of signals in use among the Alps:
_The Alpine Signal of Distress_--
(a) By Day.--The waving of anything (a flag or stick with an article
of clothing attached) six times in a minute, repeated after an
interval of one minute without signals.
(b) By Night.--A light flashed six times a minute, repeated after an
interval of one minute without signals.
(c) By Sound.--Six sharp calls, or whistles, in the minute, repeated
after an interval of one minute without signals.
_The Answering Call_--
(d) Anything waved, a light flashed, a sharp call, or whistle three
times in the minute, repeated after an interval of one minute without
signals.
If a Ski runner does not remember the exact signal any regular signal
repeated a definite number of times in a minute, with a minute's
interval, should prove sufficient. Similarly, if you hear a signal
repeated at short regular intervals, you should always suspect a call
for help.
An ordinary whistle is hardly loud enough for the sound to carry any
distance and a siren might be better. Newspaper could be used for a
flare if the party does not possess a lantern or electric torch, but
it would not last long.
Finally, may I suggest that everyone who takes up Ski-ing seriously,
and who carries gear to be used in emergency, should be proficient in
the use of such gear and not wait till it is needed to find out how to
fit it.
To experiment in making an ambulance sledge while an injured person
lies beside you and when your fingers are cold and people are buzzing
round you with suggestions, which may or may not be better than your
own ideas, is a bad plan. It is wiser to have made the experiment at
home and to have got someone to drag you down a hill on the result,
and then you will know something about it. A new game for the Nursery
slopes, and what fun for the spectators who already think all Skiers
mad!
I would like to add at the end of this chapter on accidents that
during the many years I have enjoyed Ski-ing, and with the hundreds of
beginners I have helped, I have never met with a single really serious
accident.
One or two knees and ankles twisted and now and then a cut or severe
bruise have been among the worst cases I have come across.
THE ATTRACTIONS OF SKI-ING
Though some runners are content merely to enjoy the actual practice of
Ski-ing with all the difficulties to be overcome and the various turns
to be perfected, the greater proportion probably ski mainly on account
of the exhilaration obtained, the freedom enjoyed, and the wonderful
beauty of the places reached.
The amazing thing is that Skis were not used sooner among the Alps.
They have already in less than thirty years entirely altered the life
of the young people in far-away villages, who used to be practically
shut up during the winter months, but who can now ski from one place
to another on Sundays and holidays, enjoying the companionship of
their friends and widening their outlook by mixing with strangers.
This will probably have a very good effect on the population of the
High Alps, who will be less inclined to leave their homes in order
to get away from the monotony of the long winters. So much is this
appreciated that Ski-ing is now part of the school curriculum in some
districts, often taking the place of gymnastics during the winter.
It is amusing to watch the classes of children out on the Nursery
slopes with their teachers. While we foreign women Ski-runners are
provided with elaborate costumes, including breeches or trousers, the
little Swiss girls ski in frocks and cotton pinafores without cap or
hat, and often without gloves. Led by their teacher they wearily climb
up the slopes, and then comes the mad career home to the midday meal.
Twenty or thirty little girls all dashing down together practising
turns as they go, or making as straight down as they dare in their
effort to outpace their rivals.
The boys carry the sport still further and most local Ski-jumping
competitions start with a demonstration by the boys, who often do not
look more than 10 or 12 years old, and who go over the big jump as
straight as their elders and usually a good deal more gaily, as they
have not begun to appreciate the dangers. The smaller boys line the
sides of the jump and pour out at the word of the judge on to the
steep landing-slope like a lot of little goblins, jumping on their
Skis horizontally to flatten away any track or hole made by a jumper
who has failed to jump perfectly. Little chaps of seven or eight run
through the woods on these occasions, swanking their turns through the
trees and putting most grown-up runners to shame by their nimbleness.
At Pontresina one winter I was much amused by one of these small
children wearing a British third-class test badge which he must have
picked up. I asked him where he got it, but he hurried away for fear
I would claim it, and his Christianias through the big trees made me
very envious.
Many of the children ski to school and back, getting endless practice
all through the winter months.
May I here appeal to British runners who may have old Skis, even
broken ones to throw away, to offer them to the local branch of the
Swiss Ski Club as there is an organization which mends them or cuts
them down for lending or giving to the school children, who are too
poor to provide themselves with Skis.
When the beginner has learnt the elements of straight running and
turns and begins to go off among the mountains the real interest of
Ski-ing is begun, with the slow climb up in single file, first of all
through woods and then out on to the open slopes. This is usually a
silent game as breath is needed for the climb, and it is dull work
keeping up a conversation with the back ahead. Sometimes, as one
inadvertently steps on the Skis ahead, a gruff word is flung back and
the trespasser is wise who stops, pretending to attend to his binding,
or to look at the view--the view is usually worth looking at, too, as
there is usually something to see. If it is not a distant view of the
Great Alps or of the valley below, it is of trees or rocks, which, if
examined carefully, usually show some sign of life. I remember being
snubbed by an ardent Ski-er because I ventured to ask "What are those
black birds?" "Who wants to know about birds when he is ski-ing?" was
the answer. I did want to know, and I found out that they were Alpine
choughs and I still want to know when I see the inhabitants of the
mountains or their tracks.
Most of the wild animals use old Ski tracks as highways now, even
finding it worth while to follow the zigzag of an uphill traverse.
Foxes, hares and roe deer all use them, the roe deers' feet showing so
much tinier than the chamois, who leaves a deep rough track as they
usually run in each other's footsteps. The hare's track when running
is two holes abreast and then two single ones. The fox runs rather
like a dog. The squirrel hops two feet at a time, often leaving a
slight ruffle on the snow as he swishes his tail. Among the cembra
trees in the Engadine the snow may be sprinkled with the nuts out of
the cones. They are delicious eating, being very like the Italian
stone pine nut, or pinelli, and they attract the squirrels as much as
they do the nutcracker bird.
Martens and pole cats leave distinct footmarks. Weasels, also, and
these are easily recognized as they usually start from a hole under a
bush or a rock. One day when a party of us were silently traversing a
slope above Mürren a tiny brown ball came rolling down, which, when
picked up, proved to be the warm dead body of a mouse. Looking up we
saw a weasel peering out of his hole anxious as to the fate of his
dinner. A mouse's track also usually starts from a tiny hole and the
two feet go abreast, while the tail leaves a line all the way.
We nearly always see chamois and roe deer when ski-ing in the woods
at Pontresina as it is a protected area and they are not shot and
therefore become very tame. The chamois are driven down into the woods
in search of the lichen which hangs like a beard from the branches of
the cembra trees. On Muottas Celerina this winter we saw four chamois
below us in the wood. Without a word our guide, Caspar Gras, dashed
down the slope after them and very nearly caught one round the neck,
as they were surprised, and knowing there was a precipice beyond the
scrub below them, they could not make up their minds which way to go.
The roe deer scrape away the snow below the trees in search of
alpenrose or bear berry leaves or dry blades of grass. They suffer
more than the chamois after a heavy snowfall because they are not so
strong and cannot scamper through it. At the beginning of this season,
Klosters had a snowfall of some two metres and the roe deer were
driven down to the villages where the peasants fed them in stables
till the weather improved. Four were caught on the railway, having got
on to the line at a crossing and being unable to spring out over the
high banks of snow.
Ibex are being let loose in order to re-establish them where they were
exterminated a few years ago. They can usually be seen through the
telescope at Bernina Hauser above Pontresina, and also opposite
Mürren. The ibex, or steinbock, is used as the Coat of Arms of the
Canton of Graubünden, and is familiar to Ski runners as the badge of
the local Ski Club of Zuoz in the Engadine.
After some controversy eagles are being encouraged to increase, having
been almost exterminated. We saw a beauty sailing over the Muottas
Muraigl Valley one day. There is even talk of trying to get bear back,
but the peasants obstruct this as they were so destructive to sheep.
As a child at Davos I saw three bears brought in dead by hunters,
and remember with pride, mixed with disgust, tasting a bear's paw. A
peasant told me of how as a boy he looked after the village sheep near
the Silvretta Glacier, and of a bear who used to come and kill a sheep
and then bury it in the ice for future eating.
Ski runners shudder at the idea of meeting a bear while on a run, but
they need not worry as the bears roll up and sleep through the winter
so that unless the Ski-er took an unusually heavy fall into the bear's
hole, he would be safe enough on the surface. Besides which it is said
that a bear cannot traverse down a slope, so that the Ski-er could
easily get away unless the bear rolled to the bottom, and then ran
along and waited for him. As there are no bears in Switzerland now,
perhaps it is waste of time to start a controversy about the best turn
with which to circumvent a bear. Cows are much more dangerous. I was
pursued down the village street at Pontresina by a playful cow, who
had been taken to the pump to drink. She put down her head and stuck
up her tail and I wasted no time in pushing away from her.
Another animal which hibernates through the winter is the marmot, and
I often think of them sound asleep under the snow as I pass along the
slopes of some high valley. They are said to have breathing holes, but
I have never seen them, unless this was the explanation of some holes
which puzzled me on the Schiltgrat above Mürren. I was traversing
uphill a long way ahead of my party and noticed some isolated holes in
the snow, very like Ski stick holes, but with no Ski tracks near. As I
passed a grey hen flew out of one of the holes, and, looking back, I
saw several black cocks and grey hens flying away. It is more likely
that they had made their own holes to shelter in rather than that
these were marmot holes.
Ptarmigan often greet one on the higher ridges and sometimes a
capercailzie will get up with a noise which is very apt to upset one.
The choughs are persistent followers of a Ski-ing party, flying over
one's head and chirruping for lunch. When at last we stop and take our
nosebags out of our Rucksacks, they perch on a cliff near and wait
till we move on, when they immediately fly down to see what we have
left for them. I have seen a paper lunch-bag, which they were unable
to tear, absolutely surrounded by a circle of their footmarks, some
eight feet in diameter. How they must have worried it and each other
in their endeavour to get at the contents.
At Mürren a pair of ravens also accompany the Ski-ers. They take their
perch high up and watch the many luncheon parties, croaking now and
then to remind us of their wish to share our slices of beef and
sausage. These "packed lunches" are usually so plentiful that the
choughs and the ravens get a goodly feed. The tidy Ski-er who buries
all his paper and orange peel and other debris will often find next
day that the whole thing has been dug up by a fox.
At many of the Alpine huts, the snow-finch has adopted the habits of
the sparrow and is often so tame that he will almost take crumbs from
one's hand.
Another bird I love among the Alps is the dipper or water ouzel.
Ski-ing along the snow banks of the rivers, I have often watched him
hop down into the water and run along the bottom picking up whatever
his food is among the pebbles.
Surely most Ski runners can spare time to watch all these little
people, whose rights to the snow fields are even greater than their
own.
Very little vegetation shows in winter, but it is wonderful what a lot
one can find if one looks carefully and it certainly makes Ski-ing
more interesting to me if I can recognize the trees, plants and seeds.
A very fair estimate can be made of the different heights by noticing
what grows.
Corn stops at 2,000 to 3,000 feet, though a little rye may be grown
up to 5,000 feet in sunny places. Fruit trees and beech trees stop at
about 4,000 feet. There is one beech tree above Davos about 5,500 feet
above the sea, but it has never succeeded in topping the huge boulder
which shelters it from the North. The silver fir is healthy at 4,000
feet, but is seldom found much above that level, while the spruce or
fir goes up to 7,000 feet and does best there. Larches seem to thrive
best at about 5,000-6,000 feet, but may be seen almost as high as the
top of the Bernina Pass on the south side facing Italy. The cembra
pine, like a great cedar, is the finest tree in the Alps and does
best at 6,000 feet to 7,000 feet. It is also called the Arolla pine,
because of the forests near that place. In the Upper Engadine almost
all the forests are of cembra and there is one splendid old tree known
as the "Giant Tree" near upper tree level on Muottas Celerina. Another
group of veterans grows just below the Little Scheidegg on the
Grindelwald side. Many of these trees are said to be 600 or 700 years
old and their wood is much used for panelling in Graubünden. It is
recognized by the big dark knots. The panels are usually formed of
boards reversed so that the knots form a symmetrical pattern. Larch is
also used and is very red, while sycamore goes to the making of tables
and chairs in the Bündner Stübli. Good examples of the modern use
of these woods may be seen in the hotels, Vereina and Silvretta, at
Klosters, while the museum at Zurich contains beautiful old panelled
rooms from different districts.
Creeping down steep avalanche slopes above 5,000 feet we find _Pinus
montana_, whose long branches form a tangle in which to catch one's
Ski tips. Below 5,000 feet this pine will sometimes grow almost
upright but never attains much height. Alder may also be a trap for
Skis on an avalanche slope where it creeps downhill and provides a
very slippery surface for the snow. I remember shooting down such a
slope about 100 feet when the snow slipped with me in a safe place.
Along the rivers the alder grows into quite a fine tree, and if its
catkins be picked at Christmas and are brought into the warm house,
they soon blossom out and spread their green pollen over everything.
Rather a nice way of bringing a reminder of Spring into one's Winter
holiday.
Birch and mountain ash grow happily up to 6,000 feet on sheltered
slopes but after 6,000 feet there are no deciduous trees, except the
tiny creeping willows buried deep under the snow.