The Eiger presents me with challenges at my limit. It’s a mountain which hosts multiple demanding routes in all of the mountain disciplines: alpine and rock climbing, skiing, and alpine wingsuiting. A mountain everyone has heard of. The playful alpine meadows below completely contrasting the steep ice shadowed on the North face. Three years ago I woke up on the summit of the Eiger. I shuffled around in my sleeping bag to feel the fresh air on my face while I looking down the West flank. My eyes focused on 2 figures. I watched them swap their crampons for skis and ice axes for poles. My new Eiger challenge would be a ski descent.
My aim was to ski the West flank, 3 previous trips this season had been cut short due to bad conditions, weather or the lack of partners, but I packed my skis in the car optimistic for one last line of the season.
After landing from a wingsuit jump a friend noticed my skis in my car and told me “Give it up, it’s nearly June!” David said his friend had come from Verbier to ski the Eiger the next day. My optimism well was placed. After a quick introduction and beer I went back to the car park to cut my skins, pack my bags and roll out my sleeping bag in the back of my car.
My new skiing partners were ski guides and instructors, fit from an incredibly good season, I had only done a few steep lines this season and didn’t want to be the weakest link. At the start of the glacier avalanche debris soon stopped us from touring any more, so we ditched the skins, fitted crampons and continued with our skis on our back. Ominous seracs always create a sense of urgency, as we traverse with haste out the way. From there on the climb got steeper. I sometimes looked back down to get a perspective of what the descent would be like. I knew it was a pointless exercise, after a few turns from the summit I would be committed to the descent.
We reached the summit in 4 hours and spent no time gearing up. The midday sun would soften the snow making the serac even more dangerous. I watched the others make their first few turns. The convex gradient steep enough that they soon fell out of sight, leaving behind a view of the whole valley framed perfectly by the clouds. I could see all the way down into Lauterbrunnen which seemed impossibly far away. My first few turns where rigid, it took a few to get a feel for the gradient and snow. Soon I was passing our footprints we had made on the way up, 4 hours of uphill effort for 30 minutes down.
By the time we got to the avalanche debris the snow was slush, making turns too laborious. My thighs were burning by the end; like climbing with pumped forearms, it would be so easy to stop, but I know I could continue. At this point the previous days skiing this season were just training my thighs for this last steep assault. The last few patches of snow gave us a chance to ski down past the Eigergletscher. We skied along side the train, waving at the tourists heading to the top of Jungfrau. Back down in Lauterbrunnen I had to kill some time before my friend came back with my car. I lent my skis in the corner of the pub, ordered a pint, and sat there secretly enjoying the thought that people would be wondering what I had just skied in June.
Thanks to Jottnar and Zag skis for the support.
