Above: The view from the west side of the Mitellegihutte looking up at the Eiger
We were all thrilled to have finally made it to the hut after our first long day on the mountain. Upon arrival we saw teams from all over drinking beers, looking up at the Eiger, laying out gear, and strategizing their next moves. This is one of the coolest parts about climbing famous, international peaks; they bring climbers from all over and from all walks of life. Sleeping in a hut with 20 different people from 8 different countries isn’t something one is likely to experience often, but climbing peaks like the Eiger facilitates those interactions.
We got into the hut and quickly shed our mountain boots and jackets, and replaced them with crocs and tshirts.
*Fun fact about huts in Switzerland (aside from them being built in quite literally the most absurd locations possible) is that they all have a wide assortment of crocs. You are not to enter the huts with your mountain boots on and drag a bunch of dirt in. You take your boots off, throw on a pair of crocs that fits, and then place your boots in the designated area to warm and dry overnight.
Once we got comfortable we drank a beer and chatted with the woman who ran the lodge. She was...not the friendliest. I can't imagine what led her (or anyone, for that matter) to run a lodge on the Eiger for months at a time. Dealing with sweaty climbers coming in everyday, cooking two meals for them a day (and climbers breakfast being at 4am), and being..oh, I don't know, completely out of touch and reach with society would all be challenging, to say the least.
What we quickly learned while chatting away and sipping our beer was that none of the other climbers there had done we had done, meaning climb Mitellegi ridge. All these climbers had done was take the train into Junfraujoch and then hike/climing the short distance to the hut, and then look to summit the next day. We thought this was kind of lame, similar to our feelings about the Swiss putting up fixed ropes anywhere the climbing got reasonably difficult.
Derek and I upon first arriving and looking up at the summit from the hut (above)
Having a Rugen Brau and feeling extra comfortable in fresh socks and crocs (below)
We hung out in the hut until dinner time and were served a large beet salad (Dwight Schrute jokes ensued between Derek and I), a pasta & meat dish, and then dessert. We greedily gobbled down the food and continued to chat about the next day, socialize, and watch the Spanish team play a particularly intense game of Jenga.
Huts also serve as mini-museums, with all sorts of books and interesting artifacts scattered about.
An intense game of Jenga.
After dinner in the huts things both wind down and ramp up simultaneously. By wind down I mean it's pretty much time for bed. Given that wakeups are around 3:30 (to get breakfast at 4:00), bedtime is early. They ramped up in the sense that everyone started scrambling to get ready for bed and get all their items catalogued for the very early summit push the next day.
A hut tip: bring earbuds and a facemask. The earbuds should be obvious: you are in a room sleeping on bunkbeds with dozens of other snoring climbers, and if you're anything like me you can't fall asleep with that going on. The eyemask is less obvious: given the early summit pushes, sometimes you are trying to fall asleep while it is still light out. The facemask helps to blot out light and mimick midnight.
I awoke around midnight that night to use the restroom. As I peeled off my facemask and took out my earbuds, I was met with one of the more spectacular light shows of my life outside where the latrine was located.
It was positively nuking outside. Roaring thundering and sideways wind and rain met me as I stepped outside to relieve myself. A bolt of lightning burst and splintered across the sky, illumating everything from Grindewald 6,000ft below to the summit of the Eiger to the east ahead of me. It was spectacular...but also horrifying. I worried and wondered aloud how we were supposed to climb soaking wet rock in just four short hours from then. I crawled back into my sleeping bad and just as soon as I shut my eyes seemed to be getting the wakeup call to start getting ready.
The Departure
We did wind up leaving for our summit attempt at a later hour. It was still raining, and soloing across wet, chossy rock in inclement conditions didn't sound wise. Eventually we did finally pack up our bags, throw on our layers and mountaineering boots and look up to our objective.
I won't lie, I was nervous. Wet rock sucks. Wet choss is even worse. (Choss being loose, crumbly rock). The picture I took below was immediately upon leaving the hut. The summit was hidden behind a wall of clouds, and the loose, wet rock eventually got steeper and steeper in grade.
As we marched on, spirits improved and endorphins started kicking in. Holy shit, we're on the side of the Eiger right now! As the day wore on, the North face of the Eiger stayed engulfed in the clouds and the entire south face and glacier below came out to treat us to a deep-blue sky.
Below: Derek and Colin grinning at the exposure of the ridge and incredible views.
We continued climbing upwards, eventually passing all the guided parties that left before us (as is mandatory in the Alps). Luckily for us, everyone was gracious and let us pass without a fuss. We jetted up the fixed ropes, occasionally stopping for a snack or to take pictures. We did wind up taking out our rope one time in order to abseil down a section which had some verglass and we didn't want to downclimb. That was the single time we broke out the rope on our summit day.
Above: My favorite picture of Derek. This picture is misleading, as we were still nearly 1000ft from the summit.
After a few hour of climbing, we finally pulled through the last fixed rope, scrambled up onto the final ledge and arrived at the snow-capped summit! Spirits were high as we shared a Swiss chocolate bar that Colin had brought with him:
We snapped a few pics, high-fived, and then began looking towards our descent. Our day was far from over, as we still had to descend off the back side of the Eiger, traverse a few ridges and then cross a glacier to get to Mönchsjochhütte where we would stay that night.
The descent turned out to be fairly heads-up. We speed-downclimbed most of the backside, occasionally breaking out the rope when the climbing got too steep. Things got sketchier as we got to the base and had to traverse a few sketchy sections, going back and forth between crampons and mountaineering boots to navigate a mixture of snow, rock, and ice. I even wound up roping up and leading one pitch; while we probably could solo it, with large packs on and clunky mountaineering boots - and not to mention a 2000+ft drop into a glacier if we did fall - I roped up and pulled a few easy 5.6 moves around a corner before building an anchor and belaying Colin and Derek over on.
One of the few rappels on the descent:
We finally made it to the glacier, and it felt amazing to be off the sketchy stuff and onto (mostly) solid ground. We quickly tied in together, pulled out our ice aces, and began trekking across the glacier toward Mönchsjochhütte.
Trekking along:
The views were...sensational.
I'm cheating here, but I didn't take any pictures of Mönchsjochhütte, so I stole this one from Google. Another Swiss hut, another absurd location.
We got into Mönchsjochhütte, dumped our stuff at our room and clinked a few beers. Protip: Don't worry about making a reservation at this hut. It's so close to Junfraujoch and is so big that a reservation is rarely needed.
While drinking beers we pulled out our maps and started planning our morning. It was immediately understood we would not be going to Junfraujoch first thing and taking the train back to town...we had to summit the Monch!
For the next few hours and into the evening we continued drinking beers (and got Derek a little drunk - a sight I had never seen before), mapping out our ascent the following morning, and basking in post-summit Eiger bliss.
Up next: the Monch.
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