Starting our climb to the Col du Lion at about nine o'clock, we were at the height of the Whymper Couloir by one, where the snow falling in heavy flakes had stopped us last year. As we had stashed some wild hay in a crevice there, Bich now stuffed his shirt with it, increasing his burden by this amount.
|Below the Pic Tyndall
Image is from The Matterhorn by Guido Rey, Basil Blackwell 1946
The gullies that one has to traverse above along the Col du Lion are often very dangerous when there is a lot of snow. Such traverses over precipices don’t agree with me; I much prefer to climb. This year, however, the couloirs were easy, the snow was gone, and you just had to make sure to plant your feet solidly. Nevertheless, we thought it best to rope up a few metres apart on a long line; this greatly relieved my burden.
Finally we got across the dip of the Col du Lion and reached the Matterhorn’s pyramid. The mountain now confronted us, and we were determined to give it our last, best efforts. I was greatly impressed and my companions too. My heart was beating violently, I could no longer keep my thinking clerar, I was all a-tremble. In fact, I was almost ready to throw my arms around this Matterhorn!
The first stretch over the pyramid is quite easy; one climbs for half an hour over the kind of loose rubble that one meets with on any mountain. We followed the ridge and in this way avoided the stonefall in the couloirs, but at the end of this stretch you have to get up through a notch that is three or four metres high. Climbing like a chimney sweep, you make progress with your elbows, knees, feet and hands. We called this place the Ciarfou or Chimney.
At one o'clock we arrived at the place where the tent had been pitched during the previous expedition. Since it was still early in the day and we were consumed by our desire to reach the summit, we wanted to pitch the tent higher up, at the Cravate or the Collier de la Vierge. But Carrel, didn’t think we could do this, since he knew the mountain better than we did. And here was the best and most comfortable place. In any case, on the following day, we would all take a blanket with us, in case we could not return to this excellent campsite and had to sleep higher up. Everyone set down his load. We unroped and got to work putting up the tent. It was pitched in a moment. But was the cook ready? And what about a drink? Let’s get ourselves a drink, and a good one!
We roped up again and climbed up along the rocks with a tin bucket to catch a small stream of water from melting snow. Water that has been flowing over the rocks is scarcely potable. It is bland, tasting like the rock itself, and must be made more palatable by mixing it with wine, sugar or lemon juice. After the meal, our two porters went down, and we contemplated the rock above us. This was an immense, almost vertical tower, flanked on either side by the void, the abyss.
"But how do we get through tomorrow?" asked Bich. "That should be obvious since we have to go uphill, up over this rock." "You’d have to be a monkey or squirrel?" "Well, let’s give it a try." For the rest of the day we gazed out over the immense panorama that unfolded before our eyes in a succession of mountains, glaciers, peaks and rocks, which were separated from each other by something hazy and indistinct so that we could not tell them apart.
In the evening, although we were on rock and at such a high altitude, the cold didn’t trouble us in the least. Our tent was very small, the four of us could only get into it when two were already lying flat on either side. The thermometer showed six degrees in the tent and a mere one and a half degrees in the open air. When the weather is fine, an evening on the Matterhorn is glorious; you see the shadows slowly rising and flooding the valleys, and when the moon rises, you can see the same valleys indistinctly, far below and at a great distance. And then you suddenly realise how high up you are ....
(To be concluded)
Translated from a German version of Abbé Amé Gorret's original account in French, entitled "Victory of the Italians" in Matterhorn-Geschichten: Bergsteigerelebnisse am Traumberg, compiled by Fritz Schmitt, Bruckmann, 1991