I’ve neglected this blog in the months since my first alpine trip last September. Having changed jobs and moved from London to Brussels in the intervening period, my goal of climbing the munros has inevitably taken a back seat. However, I now find myself that little bit closer to the Alps and I am currently preparing for my second alpine trip, this time with fellow members of the Belgian Alpine Club.
Last year I started to write about my motivation for heading to the hills and mountains. Ultimately, there are just two factors at play here for me: the aesthetic and the physical. Today I want to focus on the first of these. In my opinion, mountain landscapes are the most captivating of any on earth. There is just something awe inspiring in the shape and form of a chain of mountains. Depending on the weather the same slopes can inspire both wonder and dread.
Switzerland, September 2016
I have clear childhood memories of drawing pictures of mountains. I would sketch the outline of a pointy peak and then trace the pencil horizontally between the two slopes to mark a snow line. I have no idea how this idealised image of a mountain entered my consciousness at such a young age. It was certainly not from any time spent on or near mountains.
I suppose like most children though, snow held particular fascination for me. The infrequency of winter snowfall while growing up in the West Midlands of England during the 1980s was a source of frustration. During the winter months I would dream of heavy snowfall covering everything in its blanket of white (and perhaps closing school for a few days) yet it rarely did. Decades later, during my first Scottish winter trips the sensation of crunching through crisp snow seemed to awaken an almost child-like sense of excitement in me and to this day I think that any mountain is at its finest in its full winter raiment.
Glyderau, Snowdonia, December 2016
In my late 20s and early 30s I saw glacial ice for the first time in my life. The vivid blue and turquoise glow of Patagonian and Alaskan glaciers was mesmerising. Last year, in Switzerland, descending from Mont Blanc de Cheilon I observed the phenomenon of pink streaks in glacial ice; signs of algae and not necessarily indicative of the ice flow’s health (an important topic for a separate post).
When asked why he wanted to climb Mount Everest George Mallory supposedly answered simply, “Because it’s there.” If I had to answer the same question I would respond, “Because it’s beautiful”. To be clear, I harbour no ambitions at all to climb Everest but there are many fine peaks in the Alps that I do long to climb, notably the Weisshorn and the Dent Blanche – two extremely beautiful giants.
Dent Blanche dominating the horizon, Switzerland, September 2016
But in terms of aesthetics and the beauty of the landscape, it is not simply that the mountain itself is stunning. It is also (and perhaps even more importantly) because the summit of a mountain offers a vantage point like no other. I’ve been up plenty of British hills that would not win first prize in a mountain beauty contest but whose summits still offer breathtaking views (conditions permitting).
Within a week I should be in the shadow of Monte Bianco, doing some warm up hikes before heading further east to the Monte Rosa where I hope to make my first foray above 4000m. A long way from the Brecon Beacons yet, strangely, perhaps not all that far in my mind. For me, any mountain landscape stirs similar passions.
incompleatist 