Les Choucas

April 13, 2021


I just returned from a ski trip to Jackson, where we spent a few days exploring Teton National Park. The Park is one of those alpine environments where the scale and energy of the place is both awe-inspiring and intimidating. One day, we trekked up to the Middle Teton glacier, a relatively mellow trip for most Jackson locals that frequent the park, but breathtakingly beautiful nonetheless.

Along the route, my friend Matt pointed out the historic, harrowing descents that ski mountaineers have completed over the years. Just looking across at a line called the Otter Body made me queasy. The idea of making that first turn onto an icy 50+ degree face, knowing that if you catch an edge, or your binding pre-releases, or you trigger an avalanche, or get tagged by rockfall, or just about anything random happens, you’re going to rag doll off a massive cliff and explode on the rocks below.

While gazing up at the walls of the steepening valley we ascended, I was transported back to my backcountry trip from Verbier to Zermatt. I recalled a myth from the Alps that the souls of the climbers that die in the mountains live on in the feathery bodies of the Alpine Chough aka “Les Choucas”, a distant relative of the crow, which can be seen on and around the highest peaks. I remember being struck by their sleek beauty — their dark, glossy silhouettes, bright yellow beaks and red feet contrasting sharply with clear blue skies and snowy peaks.

It’s easy to understand why the Alpine Chough would be considered a worthy receptacle for the soul of a fallen climber. The Chough lives at a higher elevation than any other bird, and has even been spotted by mountaineers ascending Mount Everest at almost 27,000 feet. Their nests resemble climbers’ bivouacs, stuffed into nooks and crannies on steep cliff faces. They are loyal to their partners for life, and are wickedly smart, with a very high brain size to body weight ratio. Many species in the crow family are thought to have equal intelligence to a seven-year-old human child. They can make tools, solve complex problems, and are capable of abstract reasoning.

I couldn’t help thinking about the climbers, mountaineers, and skiers that have died over centuries of exploring the steep, jagged expanse of the Tetons. It’s nice to think that their souls may live on in a similar way, soaring freely over the mountains that they love.