17.07.25

The Tour Du Mont Blanc is not easy. That should be said. It's not a thousand miles through remote forest. It doesn't test you on every conceivable level the way one of the Big Three in North America might, but it will test you (and reward you) equally. I fell in love with this trail on the first day, but even more on the second as we coursed our way toward La Fouly with its generous campground and caught our first site of the Mt Blanc Massif. It was a short day from where we started at Lac de Champex. I'd have to say there's very little Swiss going on by the time you reach the east borders of the TMB and Champex is no exception. As the locals know, western Switzerland is eastern France. You wake with the sun and on this trail, you wake to the sounds of other hikers. The routines are generally the same in terms of resupply and what to expect from town to village to refugio but every step is absolutely bucolic. How to sum up these things? Let me say that our last thru wasn't everything we expected or hoped for. The Colorado Trail is sold as "Mile For Mile the Most Beautiful Trail in America." You get attached to photos of alpine lakes and 8k tundra during the recon phase but the reality of the Colorado trail is rather different. Not bad, just different. Couple that with girardia and well, we didn't go camping for over a year after the CT. I don't know why. Too many other things going on. It was a pause in everything. A step back. Maybe a sign? When we got back to Die Schweiz it was regular weekenders in the Alps again but it felt like it was all being squeezed in the middle of landing. There's a farmhouse to restore. A studio to build. Just dozens and dozens of little things that take time and energy...so the TMB was looked at and appraised from a distance without knowing when or if we'd officially get to it. As September got closer it came up more. "So, are we going to do this?" We both needed it. Champex was a few trains away. It was only 10 days max and didn't require a ton of planning (I thought). So, there we were again; digging through layers of petroleum byproducts i.e. "gear" and setting things in neat little corners and dusting things off and trying to find the other titanium spork that was eventually located in one of the duffel bags that never got fully unpacked. This process took about one and half days and during this, I realized I'd fallen into yet another stupor sorts. I'd gone on autopilot. It had been three months of doing...but more like six months of mobilization surrounding the move itself. It was time away from music. It was time away from normalcy and waking up without a checklist scrolling through my head. I wanted to stop, but on the train to Orsiéres I'd been fidgety, compulsively tapping my phone, mulling events back home instead of my usual railway-through-the-countryside-induced fugue state. Is that what happens during middle-age? Do we all start becoming compulsive door lock-checkers? Do we suddenly care about expiration dates and subscription plans and software updates? I don't know. I'm wary of subscribing to any phenomena local to the 21st Century. I'm always asking myself whether a rational person would care about a given thing 100 years ago. There's always sneaky narratives going on that want to qualify the modus operandi as normal when it's clinically insane from a downfield view. I try to achieve balance. I've become more of a Taoist in that sense. Work hard, play hard but also and most importantly: rest hard. I mean really deep, good, unrepentant, borderline indulgent naps and books before bed and odd topics like Scythian history and the year 1983 that require at the very least, a pony wall between one's inner and outer worlds. So...I haven't been getting enough of that. Therefore, I'm fidgety and after four hours we're standing at a kiosk in Orsiéres evaluating the merits of various colors and shapes of sunglasses and I've got the 60 L pack strapped on and we leave and I've got to re-tie my shoelaces and get the pack a little more on my hips and then yes, now we're really off and running and instantly slamming into those infamous Alpen grades where you can't walk but sort of lean forward and shuffle from side to side for a few kilometers. That's how these things start: slowly. 

Of course, this is the TMB; one of the most well-known and well-hiked trails in the world. The idea that you're going to have all those moments to yourself? Those moments are to be found rather than expected. It's a shared adventure. Shared campsites, shared food stops and water sources. That's why we decided to go clockwise instead of the standard counter-clockwise that 90% of people opt for. I'm not sure about the reasoning for that other than it allows you to ascend the nine ladder section instead of descending. More on that later. If you go clockwise you'll invariably fund yourself bunched up on single-track, dealing with those awkward "Hey guys, mind if we sneak through?" moments, which aren't worth the hassle. When you pass someone coming the other direction, it's "Bonjour", not "Yeah, wow...well, I don't have any kids in college but that does sound like an interesting field of study." When you go clockwise, you can control your experience a little better as well. That is, you're not competing for the same resources as the rest of the group at the same time.

 Uh, but how do you sum up these things in a blog? It was marvelous for various reasons. Of course, you've got the views. You're walking around the base of Mt Blanc which has a huge level of prominence in three countries. Nearly every angle is going to show off enormous glaciers which feed the very water sources that you'll be drinking from during your tenure on the trail. These same glaciers have provided mineral-rich water to the little communities below for thousands of yeas and created distinct ecosystems in each valley. Every glacier has a distinct name, behavior, and feel to it. It's just something you have to see. Since we came from Lac de Champex heading clockwise, our first encounter came at La Fouly, but even more so the morning after while we leapfrogged with a small group of mountain bikers who were pushing their bikes up to the pass. It was one of those "Whoa". Moments. Full Stop. Looming in the morning shadows. I'd found a way to suspend my big old DX Nikon on a pair of carabiners attached to my pack the day before. This would prove only slightly tedious and much easier than asking Hanne  to dig into the back of my pack every time I wanted a photo. I've used the DX format for ages with a handful of lenses. I forget the story behind that the DX, but I can't say I've every had any real complaints. When I'm walking (which is quite a bit) I set everything in auto-mode. It's far more practical. Maybe dial in the iso field a little and get on with with. When you've got 15-20 miles to get through, you learn how to handle a DSLR a little differently. Planned landscapes are obviously manual plus tripod but it's rare these days that I have the opportunity to scout a location that I can then hike back to. Again, the Alps. You're never wanting for any lack of world class opportunities. So, I walked over a bluff outside La Fouly where I could see the glacier from top to bottom with the stream flowing down into the valley and started snapping. Maybe that's where I fell in love with the TMB. You do that for 8-10 days along with some of the best food, wine, and hospitality you've seen in a long time and it's hard to avoid the enchantment. It was also the first time since the PCT that I'd felt the same level of engagement with the trail. You know every day is going to be a slog, but there's so many elements that make it worth it. All the little trail towns and villages and refugios where you can pop in for a cappuccino or a warm snack or for a brief respite from the weather. Quite a wonderland. You just need to adjust your expectations a little. This isn't exactly a thru hike in the epic sense...but also, it is. It's actually one of the classics up there with the Camino Del Santiago. That week and a half will test your body and resolve like any other long distance multi-day. There's only a few kilometers of trail that isn't going up or down and the grades are definitely punishing. We've been off the trail for just over five days and I can still feel the tension in my legs from the brutal downhill into Le Peuty. 

So, what else. Ah, the ladders. Ok, so I'm not a fan of exposure but I can take a little here and there. The TMB does have a handful of little spots where you've got chains bolted into the rock and a decent drop on the other side but nothing I would consider "danger zone" except for the series of nine or so ladders that you'll come across between Refugio La Flegera and Le Peuty. That being said, there's an alternate if you're not into the idea of traversing between two muddy wet ladders with a high level of exposure below...which is exactly what we had to do, backward...which was not fun. But, it's one of those things. Had I not been running up and down ladders for the past three months doing all sort of repairs, hauling gear and tools I think my response would have been different. Beyond that, I don't think I would have had the presence of mind to offer Hanne support on her descent. It's one thing to climb ladders when it's nice and sunny. It's rather different when everything is wet and you've got 30-40 lbs hanging on your back and you slipping is not an option. We made it, but the whole thing was a bit much. The day before there had been two little ladders below the top of the gondola high above Chamonix so we assumed this was the "ladder section" and it's odd because I did a fair amount of research on that and for whatever reason did not come across the others or thought it was all one series of ladders. Who knows. We made it down to the next refugio and had tea and tartiflette and collected ourselves a little. That's the only part I didn't officially enjoy. Well, maybe that and the black-out drunk teenagers at the campsite a few nights before. They had just finished the trail that afternoon and were intent on celebrating...a lot. But that's all part of the story. Another little thru in the bag and one that I sincerely enjoyed. We may have some friends who are coming over to do it next year and we've offered to be their unofficial guides if they want. Who knows. I had fun. Back to work.