The Haute Route – The Spirit of Skiing

Julien Regnier, Seth Morrison and JP Auclair stepped on the Grand Montet; the rest of us followed. Our 10-person team was embarking on a trip of a lifetime. With guides Stephan Dan (Fanfan) and Francois Regis-Thievenet we would start in Chamonix, the epicenter of French alpinism, follow the Haute Route for 100 kilometers through the Pennine Alps and end in the epicenter of Swiss Alpinism, Zermatt. Our crew would traverse from Refuge to Cabane while adding a twist to traditional routes; we were looking for lines. Fully immersed in the European ski culture we learned to let the mountains be the true guides and to rely on each other as a team. "We got lucky, nine good days in the middle of winter is not normal," said Fanfan.

"It was a real expedition, all the Refuges were closed, we carried our own food, there were logistics to figure out and it was really cold." The journey and the mountains provided an inspiring energy. The long days, steep climbs and hard work connected us to the glaciers, valleys and passes we traversed and the further we traveled the stronger the connection became. We bonded with the mountains and with each other. It was the support each individual offered that set the skin track taking us, as a team, from Chamonix to Zermatt. Nestled on cliffs and ridges, the Refuges were undoubtedly safe from the inherent dangers of surrounding peaks. We only had access to the winter rooms, each one varyingly equipped.

There might be the warmth of a wood burning stove, electricity, or extra beds and blankets, or there might not. Each night was an adventure itself, as the day ended exhaustion took over, and there was uncertainty as to what the night would bring. The altitude, cold, snoring, tossing, turning, late arrivals and early departures had the power to interrupt a much-needed rest. The athletes were inspiring as they handled long days and adverse conditions whilst knowing they had to perform. And then there were the lines, all of them esthetically beautiful, technical, and steep. The true danger of one of Seth's lines was revealed by the sound, like an ice scraper to a windshield, as he skipped across the surface trying to set an edge.

Seth approached the lines as a true master. He did not fight the line. He let the mountain set the rules, which he obeyed, following the mountain's outline in order to write the final draft. The efforts of the journey became apparent when Seth told me without reservation or ego, "I'm enjoying it but it's a different kind of skiing. After so much skinning and hiking the legs are tired and your pack is heavy." JP was not the skier I knew on this journey, he was so much more. Through his love and respect for the mountains he would build a relationship with each line, staying focused and fully aware as he climbed, listening to what they were telling him. JP is wise, an "old soul", and it's why he stands apart.

His skiing, fluid and controlled, revealing that he knew what was and wasn't worth the risk to him and the journey. Julien was creative. He embraced the mountains and played with them as if they were long lost friends. He was a perfectionist; a slight bobble on a landing would be enough to convince him to hike and hit the feature for a fifth time. He made the most of all the terrain. Saying "I like to mix alpinism and freestyle and if I have a chance to do more I will take it. I have always been interested in it." Framed in the window, the vast Plateau du Trient in the background, arms thrust into the air was Glen Plake, a surprise who after seeing us on the Grand Montet caught us on day 2.

When asked how his traverse was he replied "While I was alone I was thinking about the last time I was alone on a mountain; it was really trippy... It was REAL lonely." Referring to the avalanche on Mount Manaslu that killed eleven people including his two partners. An experience like that may deter others but to those whose heart is of the mountains it is where they go to heal. It is where they are truly alive. Many nights I witnessed a unique embrace between Plake and his skis, he would bring them in to the warmth, inspect them and wax them. It was as if he was giving everything back to them that they had given to him. After traveling under the light of the full moon, the view of the Matterhorn was magical. It meant the end; so some of us thought.

It lasted only 20 minutes before a thick layer of clouds engulfed it, blocking the sun. Francois and Fanfan knew what this meant. The crisp air stinging their fingertips they secured themselves to opposite ends of a rope. Francois sternly said, "Follow exactly in our track." Minutes before Francois and Fanfan were giving hugs and high fives. They understand the mountains are made up of moments and it is in them that they live. They know when it is time to relax and simply enjoy the surroundings and they know when its time to address the risk. To them it wasn't just about the descent; it was about the voyage in entirety.

They did not become overly attached to an objective; their ability to assess the situation allowed them to change plans if necessary. JP described it well saying "They do it from passion, not in order to reach a goal. It comes from the right place." The trust we had in them mirrored the trust they had in us. Fanfan portrayed it as "High level guiding, but not really because everyone was professional and worked together; so it was not complicated." We shed our packs, sat down, ordered a drink and looked at where we had come from. We reminisced over what now felt like years. "I knew we would make it because no one ever complained," said Francois. Seth freely admitted, "It's taken me two years to understand skiing over here."

JP made everyone laugh, saying "Yeah but I love walking in the mountains... the skiing is just gravy," referring to the weather that forced us to reroute and change our goals. Julien gave interesting insight, "It's a classic route that has to be done in life. It's a great adventure in beautiful mountains." Plake laughed and said, "It's all about spending time in the mountains. Hey, it's what I love to do." And everyone nodded with respect as Fanfan summed it up best, "You go out in the mountains, see what's happening, find lines and ride them; if possible. For me that's the spirit of riding!"