The route
Arolla is a high-altitude (~2000m) village in the French-speaking part of the Swiss Alps. It has been popular with mountaineers, especially Brits, since the late 19th century. The Pigne d'Arolla rising above the village to the south is a summit on the famous Haute Route between Chamonix and Zermatt. The skyline on the east side of the valley is defined by several sharp summits, notably the needle-like Aiguille de la Tsa. The West Ridge of the Dent de Tsalion is a long rock spur dropping off the same skyline close to the Tsa; considered one of the best rock routes in the region.
The context
1982 was a sort of "gap year" for me. I had left school the previous December, having tried and failed to get a place at Cambridge University, and was due to start at Bristol University in October. Climbing was more or less my only interest but my default situation was being stuck at home in Hertfordshire, far from any rocks or mountains. Worse, I had only just turned seventeen - British driving age - and had not yet passed the driving test. My saviour was my school friend, James Wheaton, who was also frittering away a gap year living with his parents in Surrey, an equally bad location for a climber. Being a year or so older he had both car (a Ford Escort "estate") and driving license.
Though our homes were about an hour apart, it just about made sense for him to make a quarter-loop clockwise around London, make a small detour off the M1 motorway to collect me then drive north for three hours to the Peak district to climb. I recall that my inability to assist with the driving was a major irritation to him. At some stage, we came up with a plan to go to the Alps together in the summer but James made it contingent on me passing my driving test, scheduled for June. Frustratingly I failed. (I pointed out to the examiner that he was screwing up my climbing plans but astonishingly he didn't consider it sufficient reason for a re-think.) The diary records that after "frantic phone calls ... and soul searching" James decided that he could perhaps manage the driving by himself.
We fixed on Arolla as the destination as we had both been there the previous summer with a school group, snow-plodding the Pigne and scrambling a minor rock summit, the Petite Dent de Veisivi. It seemed uncomplicated and potentially not too expensive, unlike the other areas we had visited in 1981 like Zermatt and Grindelwald which heave with tourist in the summer.
We drove to the Alps over two days, breaking the journey with the traditional visit to Fontainebleau. The diary records that we managed problems 1-22 of the "yellow" circuit at Bas Cuvier (which I believe is now the orange circuit ). During the night there was a rainstorm that flooded the forest and set our small nylon tent afloat in three inches of water. James quickly reorganised himself to sleep in the Escort while I splashed around the forest in my underpants trying to retrieve the tent. The rest of the journey went smoothly.
In Arolla we booked into the valley campsite for two weeks and, for reasons that I no longer recall, pitched an ex-WD canvas tent which belonged to my parents. Even then it looked very dated and eccentric - I wonder now what the other campers must have thought of us?
I don't recall that we arrived with any specific plan though we were aware of some objectives from our brief visit in 1981. An obvious one was the Aiguille de la Tsa, which we attempted via a night at the Bertol Hut. From the diary: "... whiteout in the morning. Back to Arolla after brief toddle in the snow." Obviously we had none of the meteorological tools climbers take for granted these days, like reliable hour-by-hour prediction from sites like SpotWX. But I am also guessing we didn't bother to check any local sources, like the newspapers. After the Tsa failure we ticked off the Grande Dent de Veisivi, a low rock peak not requiring any glacier approach.
I have no idea why we then picked on the West Ridge of the Dent de Tsalion as our next climb. In the alpine system, the normal route up the Grande Dent is graded F ("Facile"); the West Ridge AD+ ("Assez Difficile Plus") - several notches higher. And it involved 600m of rock climbing. The longest routes we had done up to that point had been four or five pitches. The route is directly above the campsite - perhaps that was reason enough?
The ascent
According to the diary, one day we made the ~1000m ascent from the campsite to the base of the ridge, dumped gear and returned to the valley. Then woke up at 6:30am the next day and hiked back up again. (There is a small hut under the route, but it seems that was beyond our budget.)
From the diary: "Reached bottom of the ridge at 8am then set off at 9am (mistake no.1) after continental team. Followed crest direct rather than using devious guidebook start (mistake no.2). Two hard pitches lead to less steep stuff. Climbing not too bad for ~1000' where there is a sudden step. Should have realised this was avoidable ... mentioned in the book. J leads desperate pitch ..."
Then: "Another hard pitch higher up (again led by J) ... obvious approaching storm ... last 200' in hail/ snow ... we quickly eat a Mars bar in a hole on the summit."
Apparently we topped out the ridge at 3:30pm, so 6.5 hours on the actual route. The guidebook described a complex route back to Arolla, involving a traverse over to the Pointe de Tsalion to the north, then a descent of a ramp line on its west face (see photo at the top of this page). The weather was deteriorating rapidly so we set off straight away. As we reached the Pointe summit we were engulfed by a thunder cloud. There was no time lag between lightning and thunder so it was clear we were in the eye of the storm. I remember that we paused briefly to consider our options then scrambled unroped down the west face as fast as we could, on the assumption that the summit was the most vulnerable spot.
From the diary: "Descent from Pte. OK at first then stopped by steep smooth slabs and steep icefield. Slabs seem to take years to descend - eventually resorting to a fairly technical leap move from a poor foothold into a snow-filled groove (anything to keep moving). "
All this reads like teenage exaggeration but I still recall these moments quite clearly. The jump was committing: sideways on to steep snow plastered in a groove above the ice ramp, which we knew to be above large cliffs. The sensible choice would have been to stop, rope up, perhaps abandon some gear for a rappel anchor. But we were panicked by the storm. We jumped - I recall that I went first as it was my idea - and it worked.
On the ramp we put on crampons and "screamed down to the base of mountain" still concerned at being "frazzled by lightning". Then reversed the 1000m hike to the valley "terminally exhausted" in "sodden clothes". We made it back to the tent at 9:30pm - then somehow found the energy to cook. Generally the diary doesn't contain many recipes; in fact this may be the only one. "Fantastic meal of stewing steak, ratatouille, wine sauce, tomato paste."
After a few days of what I would now think of as necessary rest and re-psyching - the diary refers to the period dismissively as "procrastination and apathy" - we went back into the mountains and managed a reasonably significant alpine day, linking the Pigne d'Arolla and Mont Blanc de Cheilon, without any drama. The weather was perfect and no-one else apparently trying the same traverse. On the way up the east ridge of the second peak, a remote spot invisible from the valley floor, I remember being overwhelmed by the aesthetics of our position. The diary is full of superlatives: "ultimate experience ... of my life", etc. Shortly after we managed another no-fuss day, climbing the Aiguille de la Tsa. The diary mentions in passing that we beat guidebook time on both days.
Then we drove home.
Looking back critically at periods in my past, some that seemed worthy at the time now seem unexceptional or stereotypical of a life-phase. There are very few that I perceive the other way around, but this trip with James is one of them. For many years I just thought of it as some alpine bumbling that was fun but of no great distinction. Now I look back at my seventeen year old self and am quite impressed. It was just alpine bumbling, but we had the initiative to make our way out there by ourselves and have a go. Moreover, we somehow succeeded on everything we tried.
Subsequent ascents
Arolla is a high-altitude (~2000m) village in the French-speaking part of the Swiss Alps. It has been popular with mountaineers, especially Brits, since the late 19th century. The Pigne d'Arolla rising above the village to the south is a summit on the famous Haute Route between Chamonix and Zermatt. The skyline on the east side of the valley is defined by several sharp summits, notably the needle-like Aiguille de la Tsa. The West Ridge of the Dent de Tsalion is a long rock spur dropping off the same skyline close to the Tsa; considered one of the best rock routes in the region.
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| The summits on the east side of the Arolla valley in August 2010. West Ridge of the Dent de Tsalion is the obvious feature starting just left of centre. Pointe de Tsalion is the smaller bump the Dent's left. Note the right to left slanting rampline on its west face. Aiguille de la Tsa is the obvious pinnacle on the skyline. |
1982 was a sort of "gap year" for me. I had left school the previous December, having tried and failed to get a place at Cambridge University, and was due to start at Bristol University in October. Climbing was more or less my only interest but my default situation was being stuck at home in Hertfordshire, far from any rocks or mountains. Worse, I had only just turned seventeen - British driving age - and had not yet passed the driving test. My saviour was my school friend, James Wheaton, who was also frittering away a gap year living with his parents in Surrey, an equally bad location for a climber. Being a year or so older he had both car (a Ford Escort "estate") and driving license.
Though our homes were about an hour apart, it just about made sense for him to make a quarter-loop clockwise around London, make a small detour off the M1 motorway to collect me then drive north for three hours to the Peak district to climb. I recall that my inability to assist with the driving was a major irritation to him. At some stage, we came up with a plan to go to the Alps together in the summer but James made it contingent on me passing my driving test, scheduled for June. Frustratingly I failed. (I pointed out to the examiner that he was screwing up my climbing plans but astonishingly he didn't consider it sufficient reason for a re-think.) The diary records that after "frantic phone calls ... and soul searching" James decided that he could perhaps manage the driving by himself.
We fixed on Arolla as the destination as we had both been there the previous summer with a school group, snow-plodding the Pigne and scrambling a minor rock summit, the Petite Dent de Veisivi. It seemed uncomplicated and potentially not too expensive, unlike the other areas we had visited in 1981 like Zermatt and Grindelwald which heave with tourist in the summer.
We drove to the Alps over two days, breaking the journey with the traditional visit to Fontainebleau. The diary records that we managed problems 1-22 of the "yellow" circuit at Bas Cuvier (which I believe is now the orange circuit ). During the night there was a rainstorm that flooded the forest and set our small nylon tent afloat in three inches of water. James quickly reorganised himself to sleep in the Escort while I splashed around the forest in my underpants trying to retrieve the tent. The rest of the journey went smoothly.
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| Parked in Fontainebleau en route to the Alps |
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| James and the giant white canvas tent |
I have no idea why we then picked on the West Ridge of the Dent de Tsalion as our next climb. In the alpine system, the normal route up the Grande Dent is graded F ("Facile"); the West Ridge AD+ ("Assez Difficile Plus") - several notches higher. And it involved 600m of rock climbing. The longest routes we had done up to that point had been four or five pitches. The route is directly above the campsite - perhaps that was reason enough?
The ascent
According to the diary, one day we made the ~1000m ascent from the campsite to the base of the ridge, dumped gear and returned to the valley. Then woke up at 6:30am the next day and hiked back up again. (There is a small hut under the route, but it seems that was beyond our budget.)
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| James under the route |
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| James on the route |
Apparently we topped out the ridge at 3:30pm, so 6.5 hours on the actual route. The guidebook described a complex route back to Arolla, involving a traverse over to the Pointe de Tsalion to the north, then a descent of a ramp line on its west face (see photo at the top of this page). The weather was deteriorating rapidly so we set off straight away. As we reached the Pointe summit we were engulfed by a thunder cloud. There was no time lag between lightning and thunder so it was clear we were in the eye of the storm. I remember that we paused briefly to consider our options then scrambled unroped down the west face as fast as we could, on the assumption that the summit was the most vulnerable spot.
From the diary: "Descent from Pte. OK at first then stopped by steep smooth slabs and steep icefield. Slabs seem to take years to descend - eventually resorting to a fairly technical leap move from a poor foothold into a snow-filled groove (anything to keep moving). "
All this reads like teenage exaggeration but I still recall these moments quite clearly. The jump was committing: sideways on to steep snow plastered in a groove above the ice ramp, which we knew to be above large cliffs. The sensible choice would have been to stop, rope up, perhaps abandon some gear for a rappel anchor. But we were panicked by the storm. We jumped - I recall that I went first as it was my idea - and it worked.
On the ramp we put on crampons and "screamed down to the base of mountain" still concerned at being "frazzled by lightning". Then reversed the 1000m hike to the valley "terminally exhausted" in "sodden clothes". We made it back to the tent at 9:30pm - then somehow found the energy to cook. Generally the diary doesn't contain many recipes; in fact this may be the only one. "Fantastic meal of stewing steak, ratatouille, wine sauce, tomato paste."
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| The view we missed: the Matterhorn from the Tsa - Tsalion ridge Photo taken a week or so when we climbed the Tsa |
Then we drove home.
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| The Pigne d'Arolla and Mont Blanc de Cheilon. We "enchained" both peaks in a day. |
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| James and I on a summit somewhere - probably the Aiguille de la Tsa. |
In summer 1983 I went back to the Alps with a university friend and did two more routes around Arolla; both north faces requiring proper ice tools. Harder routes than the ones we had done the previous year but less memorable.
Twenty-seven years later I visited Arolla again, during a family holiday to Switzerland. We stayed in the venerable Grand Hôtel Kurhaus, which was built in the 19th century to serve the British gentlemen alpinists of that era, and still preserves that atmosphere. One day during our stay I marched everyone up to the Tsa hut below the west ridge of Tsalion. I asked the hut guardian for the hut's records from the 1980s to see whether I could find an entry by James and I . Which, of course, I didn't find; I had forgotten that we were too poor to stay there!
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| Looking east to the Tsa and Dent de Tsalion in 2010, from our hotel The Tsa hut is just visible above the tree line below moraines on the left |
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| Leo on the hike to the Tsa hut, 2010 |
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| James in the Tsa hut, 2010 |
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| Leo looking down at Arolla from outside the Tsa hut, 2010 |
And another thing ...
Also in summer 1982 my parents paid for me to fly alone to Canada; my first visit. I don't remember being excited by the prospect, as my climbing-myopia was so extreme that any kind of generic tourism seemed stupid. But I had time to kill before starting university. I was received very warmly by my father's two cousins, Mike and John, and their families. I hope I managed to reciprocate. I spent a week or so in Ontario, of which the highlight was staying at my cool second cousin Janie's central Toronto apartment. We watched the cult classic Diva - a french film! with subtitles! - on a VCR; itself a miracle of technology that I had not encountered before.
The itinerary then took me by air to Calgary and a bus crossing of the Rockies and BC interior over two days. John and his family lived in BC, in the Fraser Valley. Mike actually flew out from Ontario to Vancouver to spend some time with me there also. He and John asked me if there was anywhere specific I wanted to see on the west coast. Naturally, I said "Squamish", so they dutifully drove me up the 99 ...
I tell this story to non-climbers in Squamish occasionally, to try to reinforce how significant their town is to climbers. In 1982 there really were only three rock climbing areas in North America that most British climbers would have known about: Squamish, Yosemite and Eldorado Canyon in Colorado. Even now, ask any climber anywhere in the world to name a Canadian cliff and almost all would say "Squamish".
Miraculously I recently found some photos from this trip which my mother had stored, including three from Squamish (scans below). Ironically one of them includes the location of our current house!
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| The Chief from the south, 1982 |
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| The Chief from the north, 1982 |
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| Royal Hudson 2860 (at the time in active use between North Vancouver and Squamish) in front of the Smoke Bluffs, August 1982. A photo taken from the same location in 2017 would show about twenty houses, including our current home, on the bench just right of centre. The locomotive is still in Squamish, at the West Coast Railway Heritage Park |
