Tour Monte Rosa, stage 6
Zermatt to Champoluc
Stage 6/6
photo by Andy Astfalck
With a team of four we decided to run around the Monte Rosa Massif, covering a distance of 170km and 11,000m ascent in 6 days. We battled extreme weather conditions, detours due to landslides, hypothermia, sickness and injuries. We worked as a team and were determined to finish together. This is our journey, part 6/6 from Zermatt to Champoluc.
Friday August 7,
Today is our last stage. The last day in these mountains located around the Monte Rosa. Despite the tiredness, sickness, sore feet and lingering injuries we are feeling good. At the end of today, we will have completed the entire Tour Monte Rosa in six days. Tonight we will be eating pizza and drinking wine in Italy.
At breakfast we discuss if we will order Prosecco, red wine or if we will celebrate our achievement with Aperol spritz tonight. The latter, we also drank the evening before the start of our tour, before knowing what was lying ahead of us. Before knowing the obstacles we would face. The anticipation was exciting. We could not wait to start.
The feeling is bitter sweet. At the end of today it will all be over. The pain and suffering, but also our adventure and being on the trails together, but I don’t want to think about it just yet.
ONE MORE DAY
It is eight o’clock in the morning when we leave the hostel. The sun is low on the horizon, no cloud in the sky. The supermarket has just opened. I had taken a sandwich from breakfast and buy M&M’s, wine gums and a bottle of ice tea. The extra hydration will be necessary, as there won’t be many options to refill our bottles on the way.
The first restaurant we will pass is situated at about 3,300 meter, which is 1,700 meters above us. Nils estimates it will take us three to four hours to get there, but Christof expects it will be more likely to take us six. We are slower now we are tired and the terrain on that altitude can be pretty technical, he explains. One and a half litres of fluid is not much for that amount of time, but I am unable to pack more in my rucksack.
"we are worried, but no-one wants to say anything out loud"
With a heavier pack than usual we start the climb. It gets rocky and steep very quickly. I try not to think. As long as I keep moving, we are making progress. Even if it will take me sixteen hours.
I am not the only one struggling. When Nils and I stop for a quick break we do not see Karen or Christof behind us. When they arrive a few minutes later, we notice Christof carrying an extra pack. Christof has taken Karen’s pack, not entirely with her consent, but he has let her no choice. On the way up Karen has told Christof how bad she has been feeling these past few days and it seems to be getting worse. At the check out this morning in the hostel the wrong names were on the forms. Karen somehow had forgot how to spell our names when checking in yesterday evening.
We are worried, but no-one wants to say anything out loud. It can not change the fact that we still have to cross this mountain today. We keep moving forward. Just one more day.
WE RELY ON OUR WATCHES AND COMMON SENSE
We are not in a hurry. We take our time and breaks when we feel like it. Karen and I eat our M&M’s and wine gums. We each have our own bag now. Nils changed his diet from snickers to Mars. Unfortunately Mars are less heat-resistant than Snickers. Now he is enjoying his new liquid diet, while reading the newspaper on his mobile phone, sitting on a rock. I don’t know exactly what Christof is eating. It appears to be a mix of store bought organic bars and random cakes taken from various hotel buffets.
We realise this is our last day and we want to enjoy it. Today is easier as we do not have the worries about the next day, saving energy or our recovery. It feels like we are a group of friends on holiday going for a hike. In fact, all but the latter are true.
"it is not about what I see, it’s about how I feel being out here"
We follow the trail signs as we go. Every now and then looking up to take in the impressive view of these Penine Alps. Christof, as the great tour guide he turns out to be, tells us all the names of the mountain tops we see around us. I listen, but the German sounding names do not stick. It doesn’t matter. To me, it is not about what I see, it’s about how I feel being out here. And today I am feeling great.
It’s hard to follow the path at times. Here and there a bit of red paint appears on a rock to let us know we are still going the right way. We have to be careful not to step on the mountain bike track. Some of these guys ride down fast, and we don’t want to be in their track when they do. When more and more snow appears it becomes harder to spot the signing. We now rely on the GPX files on our watches and our common sense.
It is the middle of the day now, the sun is high in the sky. The clear day shows us the magnitude of the place we are in. The temperature is pleasant. The ice slowly melting underneath our feet. This might not be the best moment of the day to traverse a glacier.
We need to get to the hut that we see in the distance. It can’t be far. Although the hut does not seem to get much closer either. We slowly move forward following the cable of the ski-lift above our heads. We guess it is the safest spot to walk, on this glacier. The last part, we stay on the side of the ski piste with the occasional snowboarder running down.
"we can not be angry about it though. Not with food in front of us"
After five hours we finally arrive at the summit at 3,400m and enter Italian territory. We are not fast, slower than Nils’ expectation, but faster than Christof had calculated. Still within my (underestimating) estimation of a sixteen hours day. We have been going for a few hours without water now. We had counted on refilling our bottles earlier at 3,300m, but the restaurant we had seen on the map was closed when we got there.
We are half way now. We are making good progress and decide to take our time for lunch. It feels good hearing and being able to speak Italian again. We sit down outside on the terrace. The guys go inside to place our order; soup and a sandwich for me. When they come back they mention the kitchen is closed. Not again! Karen and I voice our disappointment for the next ten minutes and the guys let us vent. When we seem to have accepted not getting the nice hot meal we were hoping for, the guys start to laugh... just as our food arrives. Despite the tiredness, they clearly have not lost their sense of humour. Karen and I can not believe we fell for it. We can not be angry about it though. Not with food in front of us.
LESSON LEARNED
I had been nervous ordering steak for dinner two days ago. My stomach was doing better and I needed the protein. It was the first time this trip I was able the enjoy a real dinner again. It felt good knowing I was getting better, acclimatising. On the following days I was able to eat better at breakfast and yesterday’s pizza also went down well, even though I could not finish the whole thing, which normally is never a problem. I still had my worries about today. The last time we took a break for lunch I got really cold and sick straight after. That was at 1,800m. Now we are at 3,400m.
The soup turns out to be a good call. The salty liquid with vegetables is just what I need. The sandwich with ham and cheese I put away in my rucksack, for later. Together with the sandwich that is still in my pack from breakfast this morning. I start to feel cold again. This time, I don’t wait to take out the warm gear from my pack. I put on my down jacket and cover my legs with my sleeping bag liner. I am not losing energy due to the cold today. I learned that from previous days.
After an hour it is time to get on our way. We refill our bottles and hydration bladders in the bathroom. The signs above the water taps mention the water is not drinkable. Our ‘tour guide’ Christof mentions he drinks water from mountain huts all the time and never has had problems. Christof has proven his knowledge and experience over these days, so we trust him entirely. If we do get sick, he continues, it doesn’t matter. It is our last day, anyway. The water taps are automated. Which means, we have to wave our hand beneath them every two seconds. When we finally have all the water we can carry, we are on our way again. From here on, it is only downhill, I thought.
RUNNING ON THE MOON
The landscape changes quickly as we run down. It now shows the rural rocky terrain with coarse gravel trails that lies underneath the snow. If it was not for the manmade lifts, it would have felt like we are running on the moon. “What are those buildings?" Nils asks. “The building with lifts coming out, you mean?” We joked, as we got close enough to see them.
This also explains the amount of people we see. Some fully equipped with mountaineering gear, ropes and axes included. Others look like they belong more in the city than up here, wearing their jeans and sneakers. Dressed in shorts and t-shirts, we get the occasional stare as well. So far, we have not encountered any other runners. We are a rarity up here.
The large group of elderly tourist seems to be on some sort of excursion with a tour guide offering them the in's and out's of the surrounding area. They might know more about the area than I do, but I rather experience my surroundings. They watch us run down, until they can’t see us anymore. They might think we are crazy out of our minds, but I prefer to assume we have impressed them.
Christof and I run side by side when the trail starts to move up again. A few hundred meters of elevation to go, Christof says. Even though I did not expect to be going uphill again, somehow it does not worry me this time. It all becomes relative, I guess. We chat, crack jokes, we alternate running and hiking. Before I realise we are at 3,400 meter. Nils and Karen arrive as we sit down to enjoy the views. I can not believe how good I am feeling.
I had been really worried about this day. Not because of the elevation or length of the trail, but I have not been doing well with the altitude so far. On the first days I started to feel sick at 2,400m. Fortunately it has improved. The other day I started to feel bad at 2,800. Today at our highest peak of our trip I am feeling great! So, this is what it feels like to be fit and acclimatised, I think to myself.
THE END IS NEAR
Christof takes a first sip of his ‘non-drinkable’ water. Half an hour later, just to be safe, I take my first sip. We still have ten kilometres and 1,400 meter of descent to go. We can feel the finish is near.
Christof and Nils are playing around, challenging each other. It might be the Génépi shots, a popular regional digestifs, that we got offered at the restaurant on the Italian border, or the thought of it being our last day. Nils has got more confident and is now running downhill like a pro, right behind Christof. Here and there a little slip and fall, but none of that matters now.
photo taken by Andy Astfalck
I wish I can join in on the fun but my knee is hurting too bad. I am happy to get down at all. Running best as I can, grinding through the pain, I will get to our finish line in Champoluc.
THERE IS NO STOPPING NOW
The last hour feels long to me. The single track with rocks and tree roots, that I normally love so much, are challenging. Every knee bend hurts. I try to take the bigger steps with my right leg. I also try to land the jumps on this same leg to minimise the impact on my hurt knee. The poles have become essential equipment on this entire journey. Whereas I used to use them only on uphills, I am now content to have them by my side on the downhill.
When we get to the flat road, my relieve turns into excitement. As I feel like I have held back our team on the last hour, I want to make up for time and start to run. I am not holding back, the end is near. I have missed running fast like this. Although I love mountains and trails, all of a sudden it feels so good to hit the pavement. The energy return on this concrete road is amazing. It feels like I am flying.
“the sound of a band playing and people dancing and celebrating is getting louder. Not just in our minds”
When I look back, the distance between the team and I has got bigger. The impact on the road is much tougher than on the trails. Karen is feeling that impact on her already depleted body. We walk and we run until we recognise the park. Our finish can’t be far. I look at Karen who is now walking next to me. We start to run and the guys behind us follow our lead. We are quiet. I don’t know if it is because of the lack of energy or the emotions of this trip coming to and end. We want to finish, of course. Although I am not sure if I want this journey to end.
WE KNOW WE HAVE WON!
I feel that we might have started running too soon. But, just like the final stretch of a race, there is no stopping now. The sound of a band playing and people dancing and celebrating is getting louder. Not just in our minds.
When we only have one hundred meters left to where we started our journey six days ago, we can spot the canopies of the stands. I don’t know what the stands are selling. In my mind these are the sponsors of our race, exhibiting their race vests and energy gels. Then, I see the stage where a live band is playing. Men and women with drinks in their hands talking, laughing and dancing. For a moment, it feels like they have all come out to see us finish, but clearly they have not.
Nobody is clapping or cheering for us. They hardly let us pass through. They do not even seem to notice we are here at all. It does not matter though. This is our finish. This was our ‘race’. A race against ourselves, our physical and mental capabilities and we know we have won! Zig zagging we make our way through the crowd and, as if it were meant to be, we see our finishing arch. The arch represents the entrance of the parking grounds, but for us it stands for so much more.
back to where we started 6 days earlier
THIS IS IT!
Six days we have spend every minute of this journey with each other. Together we have experienced euphoric highs and profound lows. We supported and relied on one another. We laughed and we cried. We have become friends.
Our lives over the past six days were clear and simple. We lived in the present with not more than a small rucksack on our backs and two sets of clothes. We knew where we were going, but the road was all but predictable. Now, it is time to turn back to civilisation and back to the routines of our everyday lives.
Every stage we finished we were busy planning and preparing for the next. Now, there’s nothing left to plan for, besides the drive back home. It feels almost surreal to think we will be sleeping in our own beds again tomorrow night. Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. We say goodbye and go our separate ways.
EPILOGUE - THE TEAM
I hope I am able to keep the sense of freedom I’ve experienced on the trails and maintain the friendships I have made. I would not have wanted and could not have done it without these amazing people…
Christof, our most experienced trail runner and tour guide, who organised the trip. He planned our route, made reservations and booked the mountain huts, hostel and hotels. He navigated us through the challenging terrain and was my safety beacon in the storm.
Nils, who we could rely on to remain calm in any circumstance and has the power to make me feel at ease in the toughest times. He, who inspires with his open attitude, drive and willingness to learn new skills, and who I could always count on to finish my plate when I couldn’t.
Karen, my role model on the trails, showing how powerful girls can be. She, who is fearless and who shared her inspiring story of her first ever race, a brutal 50k ultra, and now has again proven to be unstoppable.
The End... until the next adventure.
Because you have read Tour Monte Rosa, you might also enjoy reading Coast to Coast Dubai-Oman
Coast to Coast Dubai-Oman
The journey of 7 women from 7 countries. Crossing from Dubai to the Oman Coast in just four days, the runners completed an exhausting 180km. Battling bustling cities, dangerous mountains and intense desert heat.