Alpine Logistics

It was Christmas Eve and I woke to a ray of sunlight filtering through the Venetian blinds in my bedroom. I got up with my eyes half closed, the cold water that I splashed onto my face encouraged me to open them fully. As I dressed, I wondered what to do that day.

I stuck my head out of the window to see what the weather was like; a gorgeous sunny day with a clear blue skies. The snow-covered mountains gave me the answer I was looking for; I’d go for a walk to the top of Mucrone, a nearby mountain in the pre-Alps of Piemonte.

I had breakfast, prepared my rucksack and in under an hour was at the car park in Oropa, the starting point of the footpath and home to the well-known Sanctuary of the same name.

There was nobody else around, it was completely silent. I could hear only the squeak of the snow under the weight of my steps. The sun was still behind the mountains and it was cold. Freshly fallen snow on some rhododendrons delighted me with some spectacular crystal formations; I stopped for a few minutes to take a few photos. The going was easy but as I emerged above the tree line I was overtaken by a couple of ski mountaineers who had probably had the same idea as me that morning. Those who suffer from the insatiable fascination of the mountains find it difficult not to give into it.

After about an hours walk I reached the lake, though it was invisible under the layers of ice and snow that covered it. My legs started to disappear under the snow as I walked, so I decided it was time to get out the snow shoes. Here the way got steeper and the snow deeper, every step took effort and the top of the mountain never seemed to get any closer. In the meantime the ski mountaineers where already on their way down. With skis and skins it’s easier to ascend steeper slopes than it is with snowshoes, which are designed for less sheer terrain.

A good hour later I finally reached the rocky steps that lead to the summit. There was no-one on top, I took in the breathtaking view whilst eating a sandwich. To the south stretched the vast plains called Pianura Padana, famous for their rice production and further south still Parmisan cheese. To the west I admired Colma di Mombarone, a mountain which divides the region of Piemonte with Valle d’Aosta. Lower down was the Serra; Europe’s longest stretch of glacial moraine and a great source of information about alpine history and geology. To the east I could see a large part of the alpine arc as far as Lombardia. To the north my eyes wondered from peak to peak between Gran Paradiso and Monte Rosa as far as the eye can see.

What really made that day special was seeing the Matterhorn in all its glory, I couldn’t believe it. At first I wondered what mountain it was, with all that rock and so vertical; I really didn’t think you could see it like that from the top of Mucrone. The magic of Christmas and terse skies!

I managed a few more photos before the cold dictated a rapid descent, which was not without difficulties with snowshoes on the less than ideal terrain. I slipped and slid all the way to the lake, where the path became flatter and the going much easier. I was in no hurry, I wanted to savour the moment and let my mind run free. I looked around and thought about what I’d seen from the top: more mountains than you could climb in a lifetime. The fortune of living a stones throw away is priceless.

Between one thought and another I found myself almost at the beginning of the path. I recognised the rhododendron bush which, helped by the sun, had managed to shake off some of its snow mantle. Another brief descent and I was back in civilisation; noise, Christmas shopping… but I look at it all in the knowledge that I can find peace, nature and adventure whenever I want, in our mountains as in any others around the world.

Not a dinner with friends goes by that we don’t talk about what a strange winter we’re having this year. For the climbers amongst us it makes life much easier…no frozen fingers on frigid rock…but when I think about what it could mean it’s hard to believe.

Winter 2005/2006 was long and very cold. This winter however nature seems to be on strike. People here in Italy have never seen such little snow…the valley floors are bare and the mountains are splattered with patches of rock or grass where the wind has blown away the meagre snow cover. The ski slopes are all open, but the ski mountaineers and ice climbers are sad and outraged…what’s going on?

At university I studied environmental science. Climate change was one of the topics I found most interesting; learning about how the earth’s climate has been influenced by the evolution of life and visa versa. This of course includes the inevitable topic of how humans have influenced the planet…global warming, melting ice, changing sea currents, climate patterns and species’ habitats.

I ploughed through endless journals with graphs and diagrams showing the results of complex experiments on the effects or predictions of change. Of course it all sounded very dramatic but somehow seemed far removed from real life. This winter has struck a poignant note here in the local community. Will all winters be like this from now on or is this just a freak? What will happen to our glaciers, mountains, streams, forests and meadows if the climate here becomes drier? Will they become like the deserted Andean mountains of South America? It’s a terrifying thought…not that the planet shouldn’t evolve as it always has done, but that we’re all contributing to such dramatic changes. So what can we do? Do I have to stop using my car? Stop flying abroad? Consume less energy?

The planet and the universe are huge but the big picture couldn’t exist without the contribution of its individual components. Each one of us is a small yet essential component; just as ‘en mass’ we have managed to create such huge scale changes, we now each have to do our bit to put things right.

If every person made one less car journey a day and one less flight a year for example, multiply that by the number of people in the western world and we’d have avoided a lot of pollution. It doesn’t have to mean a complete change of lifestyle, regression or massive sacrifice.