Among
the kisc staff, I'm in a rare position. I'm lucky enough to be in my second Snow
and Ice season in a row. The Snow and Ice (or more commonly "Snice")
guides are four members of summer staff who come to KISC specifically to guide
groups on the Glacier at Fründenhütte. It's a fantastic job, and the Snice
guides are always a slightly odd group, even when surrounded by Pinkies and
Greenies. Most only have one Summer as Snice, but I was here last summer, and
here I am again.
This
is a job which puts me in the same mountains almost every day, meaning I've
gotten to know them very well, and one of my favourite things is noticing
things that have changed, or are in the process of changing. The mountains are
moving, and "geological time" includes now.
Be it
a simple broken branch or an enormous rockfall, there is always something
different on the way up to the hut. The Summer sun is always pushing the
snowline higher up the slopes, and as the freezing level rises things become
looser. Our glacier (like most) is an extremely changeable environment, ever
day sees avalanches and rockfalls from the side walls, and the ice itself bends
and warps as the ice flows downhill. Crevasses open and close, chunks of ice
the size of cars slowly become detached, and snowbridges disappear, leaving
gaping holes where they were. The ice and the mountains are alive.
I
also notice the difference in the ice between this year and last - there is
less of it. Looking at photographs from previous years shows this even more
clearly. Our little glacier above Kandersteg is disappearing, and it's
heartbreaking.
We all
know why this is; it is now almost universally accepted that our climate
is warming, and that we are responsible. Our glacier is not alone, ice is
melting all over the world. Every year Kandersteg and the rest of Europe
sees less snow than in the past, and I find that upsetting. I can't place
my finger on why, but I do. Climate change will affect us all in some
way. Sometimes those effects are drastic and devastating. Sometimes,
however, they're just a little bit sad.
By Duncan
Butler (UK) - SNICE Guide 2015 & 2016