This is part one of a two
part series on the Tour du Mt. Blanc, a trek around the Alps highest mountain.
Please use the term “Mt. Blanc” in the search function to see the other part of
this series.
The
bus arrived at the Chamonix stop at 8:00 a.m., right as scheduled. We almost missed it since breakfast was at
7:30 a.m. and I had to open my big mouth to ask about the weather. The desk clerk was talkative, so I had to
politely cut him off as we ran out the door. We made it to the bus stop with
only a few minutes to spare.
The
bus ride took longer than we thought as it made its way to Les Houches. The line at the cable car there was 10 – 15
people long due to only one cable car being operational. Lightening recently struck one of the two
cars, so the trip up to Bellevue took one hour or so. After we exited, we were shrouded in
fog. We couldn’t see a thing. Our hair was full of dew, just like the grass
in our lawn after a cool night.
Our
hike up to Col de Tricot was a grunt. At
the top, a dead sheep was lying on the side of the trail. It scared the bejeezus out of Mary Kay. The long downhill took us to Refuge de
Miage. The low clouds broke somewhat to
open up the views. We ate a quick snack
and then off again as we were to make time up another steep series of
switchbacks to the Col de Truc and the du Truc Refuge.
After
a quick lunch, we were off down a long downhill, taxing the thighs. Mary Kay’s knee was causing her a lot of
pain. This portion of the hike took us
into Les Contamines. The trail passed
right by people’s houses, driveways, and open windows (never would you see this
in the United States) and into a courtyard of a café/bar where we stopped
briefly for a quick beer (this is my kind of hiking!).
A
level path took us away from town, past a 15th century church (Notre
Dame de la Gorge) where soon a steep uphill path began again. This is where we started really hurting. We
were totally exhausted, spent, and out of gas!
Other “hikers” seemed no worse for the wear; some were actually running
the trail!
Finally
when we had no more to give, the uphill trail rounded a corner and led us to
Refuge La Balme, our stay for the night.
A cute guy (according to Mary Kay, not me) checked us in at 6:30 p.m.,
nine hours since we started back at the top of the cable car at Bellevue, the
most either of us had ever hiked in one day (as well as the most elevation gain
and loss in one day).
We
took a quick, but soothing hot shower before we sat down to dinner with 13 or
so other hikers. As an American, we
found the meal portions to be very small and tonight's were no exception. With the large portions we are used to
eating, it is no wonder our country has an obesity problem.
While
dressing the following morning, Mary Kay came to the quick realization that she
had left some of her hiking clothes in the shower house, which the owners of
the refuge by rule locked up after 7:00 p.m. the prior evening. I went to the kitchen to find someone to open
the shower house for us. The language
barrier made it difficult to convey to them that we just wanted Mary Kay’s
clothes and not a shower again. After my contorted hand and arm gestures, they
finally understood me and opened the shower house so Mary Kay could retrieve
her clothes.
We
busted our humps again today. It was a
long climb out of La Balme to the Col du Bonhomme, then to the Col de la Croix
Bonhomme. If that wasn’t enough, we
continued upward to the Col des Fours.
The clouds lifted for a beautiful day, gorgeous views, and spectacular
scenery. It was stunning! We caught up to other hikers and were soon
keeping pace with our German, Washington State and Vermont friends who we
first met at last night’s refuge.
Often,
the path took us through herds of sheep (or is that flocks of sheep?) and herds
of cows. They would look at us as if
hikers are a common sight, which in this area, I have no doubt. We headed down
from the pass, a long way down into the valley, taxing the thighs and quads,
just like yesterday. We missed a turn
off of the main trail, and hiked down a wrong path for 200 – 300 meters. It doesn’t sound like much, but when hiking
for 7 – 9 hours, any little extra is to be avoided.
We
headed down to Ville des Glaciers, where at a small farm compound, we
discovered they make delicious cheese. Our broken French allowed us to
communicate enough with the lady there for her to understand that we wanted to
buy from her some of their cheese.
Unbelievably delicious!
One
last climb up a jeep road for 30 minutes and we arrived at the Des Mottets
Refuge. It was very rustic, with
livestock all around, a bunk room with one large hall in which everyone slept,
and very primitive showers and toilets (the squatting kind).
The next morning, I awoke groggily, not having slept well at all. I think my lack of restful
slumber was more because of the lingering jet lag, and not so much because of
all of the strange noises in the bunk room.
There were probably 30 – 40 other hikers in the room whispering in many
different languages, yawning, snoring, belching, and yes, a fart or two. My ear plugs helped drown out some of the
noise, but I simply couldn’t fall asleep for any extended period.
Our
morning’s long climb was accompanied by blue cloudless skies. It was absolutely gorgeous! The peaks, glaciers, and Mount Blanc clearly
dominated our views on the way up. At
the top of the pass, at the Col de la Siegne, we left France and entered Italy
by way of a wrong turn.
It
was embarrassing to be sure due mainly to a simple oversight: I failed to look
at our map. Because of this lapse, I wasn’t being watchful of turns and trail
junctions and, as a result, followed a trail that grew more and more faint high
up on the mountainside instead of low in the valley where we were supposed to
be. In the distance we saw a trail switchback down into the valley, but it took
some doing to get to it. Finally after
some treacherous mountainside hiking and dead reckoning over a grassy hillock,
we found the switchbacks and made downward progress toward the valley.
Having
lost time, we skipped our planned lunch stop at Refuge Elisabetta. We instead
continued our trek, walking past some farm buildings and through dozens of cows
(and what they leave behind), then down again into the flats and on a jeep road
that led us to LaVasaille, where our pre-arranged car hire was to pick us up
for the ride into Courmayeur.
The
van arrived right on time and took us 25 minutes into town. It was a silent trip since the driver didn’t
speak English and we didn’t speak Italian.
Hotel Bertrod was to be our stay for the next two nights. It was very quaint and charming, located
right in the heart of the downtown. We
walked around a bit, had some beer and pizza, and then turned in early for some
much needed sleep and rest.
Our
layover day the following day was very relaxing and very much needed. Our sore muscles rejoiced at not having to
overwork once again after three hard days of hiking 9 – 10 miles each day. After a hearty breakfast, much heartier than
what we have had over the past couple of days (eggs, yogurt, granola, bread,
ham, salami, coffee, fruit, cookies, etc., instead of just bread and jam), we
walked over to Dolonne, a neighborhood south of Courmayeur. It had very narrow cobblestone streets and
alley-like lanes that served as the main thoroughfares. The mix of homes,
shops, and churches were all set up in a mish-mash, very medieval-like
layout.
Dinner
was with a two fellow hikers, a couple from Washington State, who were staying
in the same hotel. They do what we want to do when we retire: travel. For five months out of the year, they are on the road. They have been everywhere in the world; Nepal, India, Australia, New Zealand, Fiji, Thailand, Cambodia, Europe, and on and on. We continue to dream this dream.
The conversation shifted. They asked how I was able to manage a suitable shower since the stall was very tiny and, as they said, “you’re a big guy.” MK glanced over and gave me a sympathetic smile.
I returned her gaze with an “Ok, so I need to lose some weight” look in my eyes.
The conversation shifted. They asked how I was able to manage a suitable shower since the stall was very tiny and, as they said, “you’re a big guy.” MK glanced over and gave me a sympathetic smile.
I returned her gaze with an “Ok, so I need to lose some weight” look in my eyes.
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