In the spring of 2024, the furious winds give nothing away to the high mountains. They cover it night and day with thick, fickle snow, sweeping away our dreams of conquest. Until the dawn of May 8th, when a truce is announced. A fleeting but long-awaited break in the weather. So I seized my chance and set off on an adventure. Alongside my guide Johann Filliez, I set off for the highest summits of bernese alps. Encountering the Grosses and Hinterer-Fiescherhorn, the Finsteraarhorn and the Grosses-Grünhorn, at an altitude of over 4000 metres.
Ski ascent of the Grosses and Hinterer-Fiescherhorn: Daring traverse of the summit Alps
The project is colossal and the challenge immense. The glaciers at the foot of the Grosses- and Hinterer-Fiescherhorn, the Finsteraarhorn and the Grosses-Grünhorn are so vast that to cover them in a reasonable amount of time, you need to be on skis. But for me, the mountains are a source of freedom. I like to take the risk, to feel its rock, to experience its history. I like it untamed, wild and crystalline. Unrestrained and far from the turbulence of the world. I didn't learn to ski until I was 30, and I don't train regularly enough to improve. So, more than anyone else, I'm going to have to outdo myself.
Four days at summit of bernese alps : this raid is ambitious. It's the first time I've undertaken such a daring expedition. It's also the first time I've been away from home for so long since the birth of my daughter. An escape as divine as it is cruel, far from her I am in exile. So I'm taking a stuffed toy with me, like a rainbow thrown between her and me. And I'll be photographing her every step of the way, to tell my daughter that I love her and that she never leaves my heart or my thoughts.
Climb to over 4000 m on bernese alps : From Lauterbrunnen to the Jungfraujoch
May 8, 2024. Johann and I meet up at Lauterbrunnen station to take the Wengernalpbahn. Criss-crossing the mountains from Wengen to Kleine Scheidegg, our gaze wanders over the Lauterbrunnen valley and the breathtakingly beautiful Jungfrau. We then continue our journey aboard the famous Jungfraubahn. In just a few minutes, the train takes us from one world to another. From the lush green landscapes of the Alpine valley to the breathtaking relief of the high mountains.
By the time we arrive at the Jungfraujoch in the late afternoon, the natural world around us is a wonderland. A few snowflakes still sprinkled on the bleached rock, the clouds parted in a final, plume-crowned burst. The storm gradually gives way to the sun, and the mountains come into view, glittering and grandiose as I admire them. Will tomorrow's freshly fallen snow be pleasant to ski on? And will the snowpack be stable enough for our expedition to proceed safely? Absorbed by our thoughts, we head for the Mönchsjochhütte, which will be our refuge at 3600 meters altitude. The view of the Aletschhorn is magnificent, and we move forward, carried by the splendors of a realm bathed in deep blue and queenly white.
Ascent of the Grosses and Hinterer-Fiescherhorn: A perilous night in the Mönchsjochhütte
Pushing open the door of the Mönchsjoch hut, I feel at home. On the wall, I'm delighted to find one of my large-format works, and my photographic collection Above holds out its pages to readers at the entrance to the hut. The blazing waves of the setting sun sublimate the contours of the Bernese mountains. And in the face of this spectacle, we think of tomorrow.
Cross the glaciers to reach summit Grosses and Hinteres-Fiescherhorn. A simple formality, you might say. On the map, the route looks almost child's play. But in the mountains, nothing is trivial. No summit climbs above 4,000 metres without protecting itself from humans. And every climb requires our vigilance. Uncompromising and merciless, the high mountains leave no room for error. Neither doubts nor torments. It demands the very best of us.
Having climbed Ecrins massif a few days earlier, I think I'm acclimatized to high altitude, but it's nothing of the sort. Just as I'm about to go to bed, it creeps up on me, insidious and devastating. Altitude sickness, a mixture of migraine and nausea, insinuates itself into my thoughts to wreak havoc. I toss and turn, on the brink of the abyss. I barely close my eyes when I realize that dawn is already breaking. How will I survive our expedition? With a blank stare, I get ready and force myself to eat, despite my disgust.
Ski ascent of the Grosses-Fiescherhorn: From Ewigschneefäld to Fieschersattel
We leave the hut at around 7.30 a.m., just as the sun is shining on the glaciers. I put on my skis and set off along the Ewigschneefäld. But despite the fresh snow and high altitude, the mountain is reluctant to let us pass. The powder has frozen, forming an impassable crust on the glacier's surface. Johann and I put our enthusiasm aside to take on this unwelcoming route. Then, at the foot of the glacier hosting the couloir leading to the Fieschersattel, we fasten our sealskins under the soles of our skis. In the last few meters, the slope is steep and we have to be careful to reach the pass. The snow, which has fallen in abundance over the last few days, could break loose and cause an avalanche. But we are soon relieved to see that the rock face has purged itself of its excess snow. The climb now looks much more challenging.
As always, Johann is ahead of me, securing my position. My movements are slow and my steps numb, but I hang on and climb, whatever the cost, behind my guide. The snow is good, neither too heavy nor too light, and I have pleasant memories of this steep ascent. Like a moment of intoxication before reality catches up with me. On the crests of the Fieschersattel, my altitude sickness is redoubled. I'm out of breath, exhausted. I feel broken. My will flies out over the Alps, my energy melts like snow in the sun. The enemy hits me hard, invisible and tenacious. I thought one day I'd be able to tame it. I thought if I trained hard enough, I'd be able to curb it. But it gnaws at me and destroys me. And at this hour, perched at the top of bernese alps, I realize that nothing can stop it. So I want to come down, I want to go home. But one look from Johann and I pull myself together. Without him, I could never have completed this incredible quest. Never would I have reached summit Grosses and Hinterer-Fiescherhorn. So, with one look, I thank him.
Ascent of Grosses and Hinterer-Fiescherhorn: At summit . bernese alps
After a short break, we continue our adventure to summit on the Grosses-Fiescherhorn, 4049 meters above sea level. The mountain is pristine, the snow immaculate, and Johann sets out to trace the ridge of the colossus. Made of rock and snow, the mountain seems inaccessible. But as we cross it, I can breathe at last. My mind still trapped in negative thoughts, I know I've just surpassed myself. So much so that, instead of memories of the moments before, I see only emptiness, black and absolute. Leaving this unsettling impression aside, I savor our victory. All around us, the landscape is enchanting, and I hear the call of the Finsteraarhorn inviting us to join it.
But for now, we need to get back down to the Fieschersattel to cross the ridge leading to the summit of the Hinteres-Fiescherhorn. We then skirt around summit on a snow-covered slope before climbing the last rocks separating us from its tip. Each step weighs more on me than the Previous, but we make it to the top of this Alpine giant. Overlooking a sea of glistening snow, the Grosses-Fiescherhorn greets us with a final salute. And I contemplate the unreal splendor of the landscape before us. All the mountains we're about to climb, all the ascents we've already made. In one glance, I embrace the immensity of the world.
Ascent of Grosses and Hinterer-Fiescherhorn: Ski descent to Finstaarhornhütte
As I take the sealskins off my skis, I hope the descent to Finstaarhornhütte will bring back some color. From summit on the Hinteres-Fiescherhorn, we reach the Walliser Fiescherfirn. On the glacier, I'm delighted to discover that the snow quality is ideal for skiing. I launch myself down the generous slopes, winding my way between the crevasses and seracs of the glacier. Johann skis like an artist, signing our passage with his sinuous, unmistakable imprint. My movements are much more hesitant, of course, but my heart is light. Facing the Finsteraarhorn, the highest summit on bernese alps, I'm delighted. Thanking nature for granting me this privilege. An incredible run in the heart of a white paradise.
It's 3 p.m. when we finally arrive at Finstaarhornhütte, 3051 meters above sea level. All we want to do now is rest and eat. From the hut, we can see the Walliser Fiescherhörner: Wyssnollen, Fiescher Gabelhorn, Schönbühlhorn and Grosses-Wannenhorn. Their marvelous lines stand out against an azure horizon, and I realize how lucky I am to be able to admire them from this angle.
Overlooking the hut, the Finsteraarhorn reminds us that a new challenge awaits us tomorrow. The mountain culminates at 1223 meters above our position, and its ascent promises to be tough. We'd better get some rest to meet its demands. As I go to bed, I tell myself that today has taught me a valuable lesson. If you ignore the difficulties, if you don't consider the unexpected, you think you've won the race before you've even run it. Visualizing the road ahead, anticipating obstacles and possible detours, is essential if you want to reach the finish. With my energy drained by altitude sickness, I saw our crossing fail at the first hurdle. Johann kept telling me that from the worst to the best, but I just couldn't believe it. But he's right. Aware of the trials we'll have to face, we have to remain hopeful. And even though altitude has been my worst enemy, I have a feeling that tomorrow will be much better.
