Her train of thought was broken as Philippe walked past, not seeing her tucked behind the big rock. She called out to him, and as he turned, he said, ‘There you are. I was beginning to wonder how much further you would go.’
‘How did it go with Batard?’ she asked, as he joined her behind the boulder, out of the wind.
‘Fine, he knows where I will be if he wants me. Are you ready to go on? The sooner we get to the hut, the sooner we will be out of this wind.’
Alice nodded, then fell into step behind him as they made their way down the steep, treacherous path towards the sea of ice. When they arrived at the point where the rock path ended and the ice began, Philippe slipped his rucksack off and unpacked two pairs of goggles, two pairs of crampons and two ice axes. They found a convenient rock to sit on, then clipped the crampons to their boots. Next Philippe unpacked a short length of rope and tied one end around his waist and the other around Alice’s.
Alice looked down on him while he tied the knot. ‘Does this mean we’re engaged?’ she asked playfully.
Philippe looked up in surprise then smiled. ‘Come on, we’ve got a long way to go,’ he said, slipping his rucksack back on and picking his ice axe up.
Pulling their goggles down over their eyes, they stepped onto the hard, blue ice of the massive glacier. When they were half way across, they turned right and started to follow the path that would lead for three miles, straight up the center of the floe. At first the going was relatively easy. They had the wind behind them and their crampons gripped the slippery surface of the ice well, but after over an hour of trudging uphill in the howling wind, Alice started to stumble.
Here and there on the glacier the effects of wind, heat and water had carved massive séracs or pinnacles of ice. As they approached one that was near the path, Philippe led the way to it and made her rest in the shelter it provided. Crouching down in front of her he asked, ‘Are you all right?’
Alice peered out from underneath her hood and lifted her goggles, which were caked with snow. ‘I guess I’m not as strong as I thought I was,’ she said bravely.
‘Are you cold or in pain?’ Philippe asked with concern.
‘A little cold, but mainly just out of breath,’ she replied. ‘Being battered by this wind really takes it out of you. I’ll be okay in a minute.’
Philippe made her rest for ten minutes, then asked, ‘Do you feel strong enough to go on? It won’t be long before we’re off this glacier, then the path is more sheltered.’
She nodded gamely, replaced her goggles, then followed as he led them back to the path and onwards up the glacier. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other, she told herself, left-right-left-right. With her head bowed and the wind tearing at her clothes she followed Philippe doggedly, forcing herself to go on, one step at a time, until finally they were off the ice and back onto solid ground. Philippe called a rest and she gratefully sank onto a rock in the shelter of a small cliff. She didn’t feel particularly tired, just weak and pounded after nearly two hours of exposure to the howling gale on the open ice. She looked up to her left and could see the snow covered path leading away steeply upwards, but fortunately, it was on the lee side of a ridge, so at least there would be some shelter from that awful wind.
They chatted a little, and when Philippe was sure that she’d got her breath back, he led the way as they set off on the last leg of their journey. Although the gradient was steeper, Alice found the going much easier now they were out of the worst of the wind. They climbed steadily for nearly an hour before Philippe stopped abruptly, just as they rounded a bend in the path. Alice had had her head down, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, and nearly walked straight into his back. He reached for her hand and pulling her up next to him, pointed through the growing gloom at what looked like a huge, polished biscuit tin tucked under a massive slab of granite.
‘The Couvercle Hut,’ he announced.
As they carried on towards the hut, Alice could see it was about eighteen feet square by ten feet tall, and was completely covered in bright polished aluminum sheeting with a radio antenna and a short, steel chimney protruding from the roof. It had been built on a manmade stone plinth but positioned underneath a natural outcrop of rock for protection. Whilst the side of the hut facing them was relatively sheltered from the wind, the far side was more exposed and she could see it was taking a pounding because of the flurries of snow that were billowing around the structure.
It was after half past seven local time and virtually dark before they finally reached the hut. They removed their crampons outside then Philippe shot the bolts on the heavy door and they staggered into the gloomy interior, gratefully shutting the weather out. They found a couple of hurricane lamps and lit them, then while Philippe went to work on getting the oil-fired stove alight, Alice had a look around.
She found it was a lot like the other hut on the Charpoua Glacier, but this one was bigger and had more than one room. In the main room, there was a wooden table and chairs, and eight bunks fixed to the two end walls. A two-way radio was mounted on a small wooden shelf, with wires leading down to a car battery that sat on the floor below. In another small room, there was a single toilet and a trough to wash in, complete with cold water supplied from an insulated tank high up on the wall. Finally, there was a small kitchen complete with a double gas ring fed from a cylinder, cooking utensils, a good supply of bottled water and hundreds of packets of dehydrated food.
Finishing her tour of inspection, Alice walked back into the main room and announced, ‘This is a regular home from home!’
Philippe had managed to light the stove and the well insulated room was starting to feel warmer already. ‘It’s not bad, is it?’ he said. ‘Why don’t you make yourself comfortable while I make us a hot drink?’
Alice took her jacket and boots off, then dragged a mattress and blanket from one of the bunks and threw it down in front of the old stove. When Philippe came out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, he found her sitting cross-legged on the mattress in front of the stove with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, soaking up the heat.
‘You look comfortable,’ he said, smiling down at her.
She patted the mattress next to her and said, ‘Take your jacket off and join me, I’ve saved you a place.’ Philippe handed the mugs to her then slipped out of his jacket and sank down beside her, pulling the blanket around his shoulders too. She gave him his mug then cupped her own gratefully in both hands, taking a sip. ‘This is wonderful,’ she said dreamily, ‘thank you.’
‘You’re welcome,’ he replied, smiling at the fuss she was making over a simple cup of hot chocolate.
They spent the next ten minutes sitting side by side under the blanket in the flickering light of the hurricane lamp, enjoying their drinks and listening to the wind howl around the hut, each lost in their own thoughts. The growing warmth, their closeness and the feeling that they were the only two humans alive on the mountain, seemed to slowly generate an electrical charge between them that they could both feel.
Finally, Philippe said awkwardly, ‘I’ve put some water on to boil so we can have some dinner soon. Are you hungry?’
‘Are you kidding?’ Alice asked with mock surprise, feeling just as awkward, ‘I’m half starved after that climb.’
‘Me too, I’d better get on with it,’ he said, getting to his feet and escaping to the kitchen.