The Mighty Matterhorn: 4,478m (a.k.a the most surreal day…)
Standing nearly 4,500m above sea level, after a ridiculous combination of climbing/scrambling/POUNDING uphill in complete darkness is genuinely one of the most epic experiences of my life. So, I thought I’d share a little insight into it… YAY i hear you say. I mean hey, if you’ve come this far - strap in/grab a coffee/wine & also thank you for being even the tiniest bit interested.
ANYWAY, here goes it… a little snippet of the most surreal day of my life!
A week before sitting on top of The Matterhorn, I’d never even climbed a 4000m peak, I’d never set foot in crampons, never mind climbed in them, & every article or blog I read, every company or guide I spoke to deemed this as ridiculously inexperienced for such a mountain…
So, why then did I decided to climb the Matterhorn?
It’s one of the most renowned 4000m peaks , not to mention one of the slightly harder & more dangerous ones…It’s also on most climber’s bucket-lists & it’s one of the most iconic mountains in Europe (not just because it’s part of Toblerone’s branding… but mainly…), and I, for some unknown reason, thought this was a solid start for my first proper mountaineering trip!
However, there is one major reason, probably the SOLE reason, that this happened… & it genuinely means the world to me -
My Dad! (CUTTEEEEE… although less cute when people mistake you for a couple while you go on these trips together…)
Over the years, he has climbed a number of insane mountains and undertaken some amazing expeditions in the alps (albeit he’s too modest to admit it) and The Matterhorn was his last ‘big peak’ he wanted to tick off before he hung up his mountaineering boots for these bigger trips… and he wanted to do it together (ADORABLE right?!… but genuinely)
So, I took every ounce of self-doubt, every part of the 15 year-old version of myself who used to drown in feeling incapable or not good enough…and for the first time in my life, knew this was something I could do❤️
A little snippet of what it takes…
You can’t stick together on the mountain, because you are 1 on 1 with your own guide and it’s important to keep moving. Also, you are GASPING for air/wondering if your lungs will collapse most of the time so it’s not like you’re missing out on any solid chit-chat along the way. However, this did mean that I had no idea where Dad was on the mountain or if he had made it… (more on that shortly).
The key element is that you have to keep pace, you need to be able to move efficiently but also somehow save a decent amount of physical strength for later on the ascent when you’re clinging onto fixed ropes for dear life. However, you also need super sharp focus and the ability to not fatigue for 8-10 hours - mainly due to it being so exposed.
Climbing next to 1000m vertical drops while only attached to your guide for safety means you can’t afford to lose concentration. And for someone with the attention span of a 3 year old & who does all manner of mindfulness & journalling to stay ‘present’ (but yet spends most of the time overthinking every conversation I’ve ever had during my adult life), let me tell you - that’s not easy.
It’s all a mix of scrambling & climbing, it is absolutely not a hike…and although the climbing isn’t too technical, you need to be very sure footed across loose rock in exposure…& you need to be competent climbing & abseiling on rock & snow in crampons.
ANYWAY enough waffle of what it takes … here’s the lowdown on what the trip to the summit looks like! (“Sorry, she’s not even got to that part yet?!”)
The Lowdown…
The day before, we started in Zermatt Village. (aka one of the larger but still gorgeous Swiss towns, that will entirely bankrupt you). From here, you head up in the cable car to Schwartzee. Sitting in the cable car seeing the Matterhorn from afar & the reality that you are heading up to attempt to climb it, you’re a bit like will I be sick, will I die… hopefully neither, but also maybe the former (& the latter?!)
You’re full of nervous excitement. It’s the most surreal, heart beating out your chest feeling. We had music on dancing around in the cable car… we were genuinely giddy but also sh*tting ourselves to say the least. Brace yourself for me about to say something super lame (I mean surely this entire read until now you get this theme…) But you have to dial into the right headspace from this moment. A little (or a sh*t ton in my case) nerves & anticipation is a good thing, but a calm sense of approaching it is crucial too.
From Schwartzee, you then begin the 2 hour hike to the Hornli Hut, which in itself is absolutely amazing! You really see the mountain up close for the first time (cue panic attack/overdosing on immodium) … and you also wonder how you think you’re getting to 4,478m tomorrow when this 2 hour hike feels like you need a lie down.
The Hornli hut has been renovated and you get a lot of people just hiking up for lunch and to watch climbers set off/come back from the summit - highly recommend if you’re ever in Zermatt!
How do you know if you are ‘fit’ to climb?
Dad’s guide for summit day, HansPeter, had put us through our paces earlier in the week to ‘test’ whether we were capable enough and fit enough to climb (which was an UNREAL couple of days - another post to follow on that… yay right), but this did mean Dad was familiar with Hans and honestly I ADORE him for looking after Dad!!
I met my guide for the first time at dinner at the hut - just 10 hours before we would be setting off in darkness together with me quite literally putting my enitre life in his hands. Wolfgang (aka ‘Wolfy’ - bloody HERO) had such a calm energy (& so naturally probably thought I was INSANE) but I instantly knew that I would get to the top of the mountain with him.
Zzz’s..
They had double bunk beds in the hut & initially I had a top bunk to share with Dad… I mean drag me to the top of a mountain but do not force me to sleep next to Nige 🤣 we thankfully managed to swap but Dad did ask me : ‘You’d rather risk sleeping next to a stranger than your dad?!’ to which I immediately replied yes… not sure if that says more about me or him, but I’ll leave you to decide…
After a carb intense dins at the hut you head to bed at 9pm to basically pretend to sleep/wonder if anyone else is sleeping (for the most part, they’re not either FYI…) & then its a 3.30am alarm to get ready to start the ascent.
And, with true Swiss efficiency, you have to be ready with harness, helmet & rucksack on by 4.30am. The local guides head up first with their clients, which included us. This is partly because it’s quite old school but mainly because the route is ridiculous. It’s genuinely one the 4000ers where most rescues happen because of unguided groups getting lost on the mountain.
At first, this means you’re quite close together with guides and their clients starting the climb, which is quite manic & also quite a lot of pressure to keep up - not to mention it’s pitch black and you are pounding up one vertical wall after the next. It quite literally is as CHAOTIC and panic-enducing as it sounds… but all the while you have to breathe, try to relax and settle into some sort of rhythm with your guide. You have a head torch as the only light to find your foot and hand holds and you are somewhat determined to not be overtaken by anyone so you find you’re climbing slightly above a comfortable pace …(and fully believe you may have a heart attack and pass out at any given moment).
However, soon after the initial fixed ropes people space out and find their own pace with their guides… this does however mean there’s no let up. It’s literally up from there & it only gets steeper. In complete darkness.
Wolfy did however do an amazing job of setting a steady but solid pace which I really had to turn up the positive self-talk during & dial-down the 15 year old version of me during entirely. You do get small moments of air when you are waiting at a belay point and honestly those 20 seconds or so are HEAVENLY… it did mean I could also take a look around in the darkness and take in the most surreal views of the stars amongst the mountains surrounding us & it was honestly breathtaking.
Cute little pit stops however for photos/drinks/snacks genuine aren’t a thing as you have to keep pace to make it up and down in a time that isn’t too late in the day when the weather can come in (a mix of ‘am I struggling to breathe because of the altitude or because this is insanely hard … both, ok cool).
Side note - altitude affects everyone differently but I definitely, definitely recommend acclimatising - the difference between the first day or two of climbing while we were in Switzerland to the final day was huge in terms of being able to breathe. (I mean could I breathe?! that’s debatable…)
Half Way House (well, hut)
There’s a rescue hut, The Solvay Hut, half way up which you usually hit around sunrise… which is an awesome moment. If you make it by 2 hours you’re doing well & usually 3 hours is the limit where the guides would turn you round. It doesn’t sound like an hour would make a huge difference but you are still very much only at the start of the day here. The section after the hut also gets physically harder & can mean it can be dangerous for other people on the mountain if someone is too fatigued by this point or too slow.
Hitting the Solvay at sunrise was honestly unbelievable. The view was just surreal and knowing I’d got to this point in good time (we were exactly 2 hours), meant I knew I could carry on.
From there, more graft awaits. The sections become more technical & fixed ropes and chains against almost vertical sections mean you need a lot of energy still to give. This section is also basically all in crampons which makes relatively simple climbing, quite challenging.
You’re in daylight now which is obviously a huge relief/help but it also means you finally have a good sight of how much work you still need to put in. This also means you have a clear view of the vertical drop next to you when you’re climbing on the ridge - something that needs a solid headspace and sure footing to be comfortable with.
The fixed ropes are another section where you end up catching up to other people. However, it turns out Wolfy was not one for waiting around. The occasional SPRINT up the rope followed by him shouting ‘SOPHIE CLIMB’ meant me barging people out the way to grab the rope and follow suit… resulting, of course, in some very British awkwardness (do you apologise politely while clambering over their heads or keep your head down & go?! I chose the latter). It also meant after these short bursts of WRECKLESSNESS from Wolfy, I was gasping for air once again.
However, after this chaos came the last slog to the summit & the most incredible feeling of knowing you had bloody done it!!
The Summit
I was partly in disbelief when we got there and partly just like ‘ah cool we made it, nice.’ - I really don’t think it sunk it at all at the time. I was also super aware that my Dad was not with me & I had no clue how far behind us he would be, or whether he would be at all. (Genuinely nearly twice my age, having had a collapsed lung in the past and a half hip replacement on both hips… I was like he could legit have turned back).
Now guys, let me tell you. Wolfy was a bloody EPIC guide, I will absolutely be getting back in touch for future trips (yes, i’m hooked and plan to keep setting myself silly summit goals moving forwards)… he was strong, reliable, calm, a great energy…the list goes on. He was however, NOT a good photographer. I think this falls in line with the impatience he showed… like this guy climbs mountains in his sleep, he doesn’t need photos to prove it. Which I also kinda really respected & liked about him too. God, calm down raving about Wolfy already.
So yes, my photo moment at the top was limited to a couple of quite average snaps that don’t remotely do the summit justice. BUT needless to say, it’s a moment that I will literally never, ever forget & no photo could ever quite live up to regardless.
The whole energy up there is just unreal. Anyone you pass on the summit ridge is elated, you’re hugging/high-fiving/congratulating strangers who are all just so so happy for you being up there & making it too. It’s genuinely lovely & not gonna lie, you feel prettttty good about yourself. (Until you look back on the snaps Wolfy took of you & you’re reminded of what you looked like at those said moments of course…)
After sitting (finally a moment to breathe) and taking in the view for a grand total of 5, maybe 10 minutes, it was time to head down.
Down-climbing: (a.k.a do not lean too far forwards, or backwards… oh and move quickly, but do not rush, but also DO NOT LOSE CONCENTRATION….a.k.a SUCH fun)
So yes, then came the task of getting down the mountain you had just expended all your energy getting up. This is where most accidents happen and where most unguided groups lose their way & end up in danger. It’s made even more tricky by down-climbing in crampons & by crossing the same route with people still coming up. Thankfully I had my guide & due to his impatient but calm nature (interesting combo as afformentioned), we were efficient & had a really good but steady pace coming down.
This also meant we would hit belay sections where Wolfy would belay me down (bascially abseiling but on very loose/uneven/vertical sections), while people were climbing up said sections. Similarly to the way up, I would just hear ‘SOPHIE GO’ …and although every instinct tells you to wait so you don’t cut half their face off with your crampons if you lose your footing/mis-judge your route down… you go.
THE SINGLE BEST MOMENT
About half an hour into our descent, the best moment of my entire day happened. Coming up the route I first saw HansPeter, Dad’s guide, with Dad climbing closely behind. The level of elation I felt in that moment, I genuinely cannot describe.
I think i just shouted ‘YESSSS DAD YOU’VE BLOODY DONE IT!!!’ we were both laughing & beaming and I was honestly just so so excited for him because at that moment I realised… he was getting to the top of The Matterhorn. His final ‘big peak’, his bucket-list climb, a mountain that means so so much to him as old friends who he has since lost, summited it many years ago. My heart could have BURST in that moment for him.
So while we didn’t get ‘our’ moment at the top together - I knew then, he was going to get his. And that meant more than anything else could to me. Dad also said later that seeing me really helped spur him on to the top (you’re welcomeeee), but all joking aside, I think it was the boost both of us needed right then.
Home Straight
After what seemed like a lifetime of down-climbing & re-tracing our steps from morning…the hut was back in sight. Seeing what I had climbed in darkness earlier that day, it was quite surreal thinking ‘really we came up THIS…IN THE DARK!?’. The final section of rope leading down to the starting point from the day was the BEST feeling… when your feet touch back on flat (ish) ground and people are stood watching you come off the mountain, you realise you’ve made it back safely. You also realise you’ve just climbed one of the most iconic peaks in the world!!! It’s genuinely mind-blowing.
Apparently 8 hours is a good time & I made it in 7.5 hours… I’m genuinely still baffled. I still look back and feel like I watched someone else do it & there’s still the part of me (hello 15 year old Sophie again) who believes it can’t really be that hard because well, I did it. So surely anyone can right…
I INHALED a bowl of pasta while I waited for Dad to return & honestly being re-united at the hut having both summited was just the most amazing feeling!
I would say I am lost for words… but considering you’ve just sat and read MANY words about the entire thing, that’s not entirely true. It was honestly a once in a lifetime moment & getting to experience it with my Dad… as his last and my first ‘big peak’, was just EPIC. I am ridiculously proud of him & forever in awe of his determination. However, for the first time in my life, I’m pretty proud of myself too.
So what’s next?
Watch this space as it looks like it may be Solo Sophie adventures moving forward.
And although while truly gutted future big adventures won’t be with Dad, the only saving grace is that I won’t have him asking me daily “have you managed to go for a number 2 today?” while 3000m up in the mountains…)
