Ditchmonkey – training begins

Me and my shadow

Training started in earnest with a walk in the mountains, it seemed like a good idea at the time but once I got back, aching and so exhausted I could barely speak, I was less sure of the wisdom.

The plan was simple enough — walk from Morzine at an altitude of 970 meters to Ardent at an altitude of 1200 meters, a simple enough task.

To make it a bit more interesting I decided to go via the tallest point in between – 1800 meters.

Then for reasons that I can best ascribe to a lack of oxygen to the brain I decided to travel in as close to a straight line as possible, go via Les Lindarets (which is not on the way) and, carry about 20lbs. It started out OK with a 15 minute walk from the chalet, to a spot that according to the map allowed me to gain 500 meters altitude in only 750 meters distance. That first three quarters of a kilometer was the worst of the day (unless one includes the last kilometer in which my aching bruised body fell down gullies and bounced off trees). What wasn’t shown on the map was that the ground was covered in scrub and fallen trees. Not only was I climbing up but also, over, through, around and on more than one occasion out of those trees! Good training but very hard work.

After about an hour the snow became deep enough to warrant wearing snow shoes for the first time in my life. Sitting down to put them on as shown in the shop afforded a welcome opportunity to take a breather, but they slipped on far too quickly and it was time to press on again looking, to my mind at least, every bit the image of the arctic explorer. It was a good two or three steps before one of the shoes became caught in a bramble and tripped me. In all it took an hour and a half to walk 750 meters. By the time the ascent started to level off I was exhausted and starting to consider calling off the attempt to reach Ardant. At the rate I was travelling it would take until well after dark to reach my destination and if I wasn’t back by dark people would start to worry.

A couple of cups of tea, a salami and cheese sandwich and a slice of panforte later, I was ready to continue. The going for the rest of the route was much easier, and in the event that I started running out of time I could always head for the nearest cable car and get back to that way. In the end, by employing the technique of walking the ascents and running (as much as my bursting lungs would allow me) the descents, I made it to the hill above Les Lindarets in good time. Getting down the other side of the mountain was almost as hard as getting up, ice, rocks, trees, gravity and snow that may or may not take my weight all combined to make life rather interesting and not a little painful on the way back down. It was a physically and mentally drained individual who jogged into Ardant five hours after setting off only to collapse at the bus stop.

The idea of exerting as much energy as this on a daily basis and then having to gather food, fish, make camp etc etc etc is somewhat daunting. Best not think about it too much right now.

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