Walking in the Alps. Kev ReynoldsЧитать онлайн книгу.
4000 metre summit in the Alps, which lends its name to the whole area, and the famous Meije (3982m), the last major Alpine peak to be climbed. Although they may be only about 10 kilometres apart, between them a chaos of glaciers and snowfields forms a girdle round a group of attendant peaks, such as Roche Faurio, La Grande Ruine, Pic Gaspard, Le Pave and the western extension of the Meije’s bold profile, Le Rateau. Their glaciers may not be quite as extensive as those of the Pennine or Bernese Alps, nor as well-known to the general tourist as some of the ice-sheets of the Mont Blanc range, but their significance to the quality of the scenery is considerable.
Writing about the area in his Histoire des Hautes-Alpes, J. C. F. Ladoucette found it difficult to contain his enthusiasm:
Filled with high mountains, rearing their heads as if to reach to heaven, crowned with glaciers, and fissured with immense chasms, where lie the eternal snows guarded by bare and rugged cliffs; offering the most varied sights, and enjoying all temperatures; and containing everything that is most curious and interesting, the most simple and the most sublime, the most smiling and the most severe, the most beautiful and the most awful; such is the department of the High Alps.
La Meije towers above the village of La Grave near the northern edge of the massif, with the Barre des Écrins not far away to the south-south-east. Then in a block to the south of this, beyond Pic Coolidge, rise Mont Pelvoux (3943m) and the region’s third highest, L’Ailefroide (3954m). Between these last two Pic Sans Nom and Pic du Coup de Sabre are close neighbours, while a little farther south-west, Les Bans (3669m) throws out a ridge that effectively separates two fine valleys: Val Gaudémar to the west and the valley of Entre-les-Aygues that flows eastward to Vallouise. In addition, Les Bans blocks the upper Vallée du Vénéon with its glacier- plastered cirque, and makes a north-south division as well as an east-west divide.
South of this line only the group headed by Pic de Bonvoisin, Pointe de Verdonne and Le Sirac still hang onto their glaciers, while elsewhere within the boundaries of the Parc National des Écrins isolated peaks and groups of peaks, such as L’Olan and Les Rouies, shine their little napkin icefields from afar. That is not to suggest that other mountains fanning out from the central core fail to attract through a lack of ice or snow, for the whole region is one of generous proportions. But the overall effect is of a great mountain mass whose bare outer rim serves to protect a cluster of inner peaks upon whose flanks the development of mountaineering interest has been concentrated.
Great names from the Golden Age, and even earlier, made their mark here: Forbes and Bonney, Tuckett, William Mathews, Edward Whymper – who climbed the Barre des Écrins in 1864 with A. W. Moore, Horace Walker and the guides Christian Almer and Michel Croz – and W. A. B. Coolidge (the ‘Boswell of the Alps’), who made the first ascent of L’Ailefroide in 1870, also with Almer as his guide. In the early 1870s it was Coolidge and his indomitable aunt, Miss Meta Brevoort, who concentrated on a systematic exploration of the range, and who subsequently made more than 250 ascents – a number of which were new. Often Coolidge was accompanied by his dog Tschingel, which also reached the summits of Le Rateau and La Grande Ruine, among others. ‘I am not quite sure what it was that made us choose Dauphiné as our battleground,’ he wrote, ‘but I believe it was ambition. There was a whole world to explore there and that was enough for us.’
For the modern mountain walker, exploration remains a personal journey of discovery, and it does not matter how many others might have crossed a pass, photographed a view or given directions in a guidebook, each ‘new’ valley, tarn or col visited becomes a ‘first’ to be celebrated and enjoyed to the full. The Massif des Écrins will surely not disappoint in this respect.
Vallées du Vénéon & Étancons
Taking the Barre des Écrins as the pivot in our mountain hub, the two main glaciers that drain its western flanks flow into the Vallée du Vénéon, the head of which is not the Barre des Écrins itself, but Les Bans whose dramatic glacial cirque faces almost due north. Here the Glacier de la Pilatte is an unevenly textured plaster spreading from one side of the cirque to the other, broken here and there by ribs of dark rock that project through the snow and ice. On the left bank of the glacier, not far from its snout, stands the Refuge de la Pilatte, reached by a delightful walk through the valley from La Bérarde.
The upper Vallée du Vénéon drains northward, then curves round the flank of the Tête du Chéret. On the right bank of the stream a path climbs steeply to the Refuge du Temple Écrins, above which soars Pic Coolidge and the uncomfortably-named Pointe des Avalanches. There’s yet another hut nearby, in the bed of the valley, that is well patronised by walkers since it may be reached in only an hour’s walk from La Bérarde. Refuge du Plan du Carrelet gazes on some savage mountain scenery from its position opposite a tributary glen with the narrow tongue of the Chardon glacier straining down from Col des Rouies. The Chardon is a narrow glen, typically wild as are so many that feed the Vénéon.
La Bérarde stands at the roadhead in the midst of some of the finest scenery in the French Alps. When T. G. Bonney made his first visit in August 1860 he thought it a miserable hamlet. ‘Fowls and goats, pigs and people, occupy harmoniously the squalid huts, and the cows are as well lodged as their masters.’ (Outline Sketches in the High Alps of Dauphiné)
Well over a hundred years later, and despite its having become a Mecca for active mountain enthusiasts, La Bérarde remains little more than a small hamlet, all-but deserted by the outside world during winter. Its reputation as a superb walking and mountaineering base is well justified, for there are some tremendous mountains and mountain tours accessible from it. Served by infrequent buses along an exciting road that used to be known as the first obstacle in reaching the village, it has a campsite, a couple of hotels, a CAF refuge, modest shop – and a variety of trails that lead to viewpoints of splendour.
Two valleys converge on La Bérarde. The Vénéon, as has already been mentioned, comes in from the south-east and is dominated at its head by Les Bans, and Mont Gioberney. Departing the hamlet it then veers westward as a deep and narrow gorge-like valley. To the north the Étancons glen entices with its mystery, and as you wander into it from La Bérarde so a huge rock wall topped by a ragged spine is seen to rise directly from the Étancons glacier. This is the south face of La Meije, so different to the northern side which looks down upon La Grave. Whymper wrote disparagingly of this glen after descending through it from the Brêche de la Meije in 1864. He called it ‘a howling wilderness, the abomination of desolation; destitute alike of animal or vegetable life ... suggestive of chaos, but of little else.’ Nowadays it is generally viewed more favourably and with greater appreciation for its wild grandeur.
Tête de la Maye
Above La Bérarde the dome-like Tête de la Maye (2581m) guards the entrance to the Vallon des Étancons, and its easily-accessible summit provides a wonderful panorama of all the neighbouring high peaks, including La Meije and Barre des Écrins. An orientation table aids identification of the main points in that view. A path climbs from the hamlet, and near the top fixed cables safeguard a few rocky sections, while south of La Bérarde a similar path climbs to Les Clots (2529m) for more fine views.
Dome de Neige des Écrins, seen from the viewpoint of the Tête de la Maye above La Bérarde
The main trail north of the hamlet crosses to the eastern side of the Étancons torrent and rises gently upvalley towards the south face of La Meije and its flanking peaks of Le Rateau and Pic Gaspard, and goes directly to the CAF’s Refuge du Châtelleret (2232m) in the very heart of big mountain country. Surprisingly, in the mid 1950s this refuge was described as being little more than a broken-down, three-walled hovel built against a huge boulder. It had a stone floor covered with leaves, a pot-bellied stove and rudimentary furniture. In fact little had changed since it was inaugurated in 1882. How different it all is now!
About three kilometres downstream from La Bérarde, Les Étages, with its impressive view to the Écrins, squats at the junction of the Vallon des Étages, another tributary glen which flows from the south. A path projects part-way into that