Reaching Higher and Higher for Snow
Rolling fields with mountain herbs are all around us, as we meander our way to the top. After a bend, we pass an abandoned restaurant, and continue to hairpin higher and higher until we reach the pass. This is where the legendary rescue dogs got their name from. You know, those brown and white savers of people stranded in the mountains. The Great Saint Bernard Pass.
I have been here before. It must be almost thirty years ago, but I still have a vivid memory of me and the friend we brought along on our summer holiday, throwing snowballs at each other. Sunglasses, short sleeves, and snow. In July. Or August. In the midst of summer in any case. It was something extremely special for us, as we only had snow in winter for a couple of weeks back home in The Netherlands. If we were lucky.
Now, I was here again. As a dad. We wanted to take our kids here, to have that same experience of playing in the snow in summer. So, we drove up the pass, to an altitude of 2473 meters, where 3 decades ago snow covered at least parts of the pass even in the midst of summer. But three decades is a long time, and a lot can change in that period. Like global temperatures. We drove up to the pass to find snow, but there wasn’t any. A beautiful scenery, a restaurant, a shop for merchandise and the dogs, of course. You can still see some of them in the summer months, although they officially live in Martigny. All that, but no snow.
Still we were determined to show the kids snow in summer. And not just show them, but actually let them experience it. Throw some snowballs. Touch, smell, and in the case of our little ReBelle, taste it. Turns out, we had to wait a year.
The next summer, we visited the same region, but in a different country. One day we drove around the region, trying to find a way to a high snowcapped mountain. Unsuccessfully. In the end, at the advice of the local tourist office, we took our local all access passes, took the gondola lifts up the mountain, and a different one back down to the town at the other side. From there, we went to a different lift station, to take the lifts up to the Mont Fort. Towering at over 3300 meters, we were told that we could probably see snow on the top, although we might not be able to touch it. Still we went. It takes one lift to go up from Verbier to the first stop on the mountain. Then another one up to another station and then a bit down. From there, we went up again to the Col des Gentianes and then the last part up to the Mont Fort. We did see snow on top of the Mont Fort, and it was out of reach for us. Still, the views were worth the trip. Not just of the snow, but also the surrounding Alps. Magnificent.
We actually didn’t need to touch the snow that high up. We already had, waiting for the ride up Montfort at the Col des Gentianes. This pass is at an altitude of around 2900 meters, and there were some remnants of snow to be found there. You could also see the Montfort glacier, but more importantly, we did get to play in the snow with the kids. Mission accomplished. Snowballs thrown.
Still, beside the sense of accomplishment and the rush of the fun, there was a nagging feeling. We had to get up really high to find snow in summer. Much higher than I had to almost 3 decades earlier. And it was clear that the glacier was getting smaller. The effects of climate change are certainly very real in the Alps. That is painful. What if our kids, in 3 or 4 decades from now, want to take their kids to play with snow in summer. Where do they have to go? Is there still a way that it can be exactly that place that we went to?
This thought is touching on a difficult question. How can we take our kids to show them the wonders of the world, without taking from them the opportunity to do the same when they have children of their own? I don’t know the answer to that. I wish I did. But I think it’s also a great thing to try and figure out.
