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Published: September 28th 2023
Snow Bowl Spilling Over
The Glacier du Trient, seen from just below the Fenetre d'ArpetteLeaving the campground in Val Veni after three nights in my tent, I rejoined the Tour du Mont Blanc where I had left it two days earlier, one hour down the road in the town of Courmayeur. But having dropped down into the bed of the Val d'Aosta (into which both the Val Veni and Italian Val Ferret flow) there was only one direction the trail could go: up. At first the gradient was gentle as the route followed a sealed road up a side-valley, but after leaving the road and heading up onto the forested flanks of Monte de la Saxe the steepness immediately ratcheted up a couple of notches. Yet fresh from a rest day I was equal to the task, managing to climb the 600m from the road-end to Rifugio Bertone in just an hour. In fact I got there so quickly the hut hadn't actually opened for lunch yet. Still, I had nowhere else to be and an empty stomach to fill, so continuing on clearly wasn't an option!
Leaving Rifugio Bertone there was a choice of onward route, with both the standard trail and the high-level variant promising spectacular views... though with clouds having obscured
Gaining Height
The relentless climb up from Courmayeur all but the merest fragments of the mountains all morning, I decided against subjecting myself to an extra two hours worth of climbing and descending, given the chances of that effort being for nought. In any case, the standard route followed a high balcony path roughly following the 2000m contour across the southern slopes of the Italian Val Ferret, looking straight out across the valley towards the Mont Blanc massif on the opposite side. And though the highest peaks (which lay behind and to the left) were still hidden from view, a line-up of rocky peaks culminating in the impressive Grand Jorasses (4208m) were beginning to emerge from underneath their blanket of clouds directly ahead.
And so for the first time since I'd crossed the Col de la Seigne into Italy three days earlier, I was gifted the opportunity to gaze out at a wall of snow-clad mountains, accompanied by the odd steeply-descending glacier making a slow-motion dash for freedom towards the valley below. Two hours later I climbed a low rise to be greeted by the beautiful wooden facade of the Rifugio Bonatti (2051m), named after one of Italy's greatest mountaineers - whose book ('The Mountains of my
Scenic Trail
The belvedere path between Rifugios Bertone and Bonatti Life') I had been reading for the past few days. For company at the hut I had Brent from Vancouver (whom I'd had lunch with at Rifugio Elisabetta three days earlier), and a couple of young women that Brent already knew: Abi from Australia and Catherine from California. I might not have known it at the time, but these would be the central characters in the story of my remaining four days on the trail.
Leaving the Rifugio Bonatti the next morning, the fickle weather on the Italian side of the mountains once again reared its ugly head, as we found ourselves in the midst of a low blanket of cloud/fog that obscured everything beyond a fifty-metre radius. At times like this I try to convince myself that the conditions are simply 'atmospheric', despite knowing full well that is just a euphemism for 'shit'. After descending steeply to to the bed of the valley - which is known as the Italian Val Ferret, to differentiate it from the Swiss Val Ferret on the opposite side of the pass (clearly neither country was prepared to relinquish the name in order to avoid confusion...) - the trail then almost immediately started
Not so Scenic Trail
Leaving Rifugio Bonatti the next morning climbing straight back up towards the head of the valley. Looking forward to a rest at Rifugio Elena (2062m), I was most disappointed to find it locked up and shuttered - only later did I discover it had already closed for the season!
But adequate compensation was soon offered when, sitting on a rock just above the closed hut after having been joined by the always optimistic Brent, the clouds started to part just enough to reveal the undulating ridge crest carrying the frontier between Italy and Switzerland. Rushing to snap pictures before the clouds inevitably closed ranks again, we enjoyed a glorious five minutes of only partially-obscured views - which gives an accurate indication of just how ordinary the weather had been in Italy! By the time we hoisted our packs we were fog-bound once again, hoping forlornly that conditions would be better on the Swiss side of the border. Wishful thinking indeed!
Stepping onto the pass of the Grand Col Ferret at 2537m just under an hour later, a bitter wind had sprung up that managed to achieve the impossible by making the conditions even more grim, and I immediately hastened down the Swiss side in
Head in the Clouds
The pass/border of Grand Col Ferret swathed in cloud an effort to keep warm. Passing a dozen mountain bikers coming up to the pass from the opposite direction - who were either mad, eccentric or just plain Austrian - I dodged puddles, weaved around patches of mud and tried to recall happier times when I'd walked through sunlit pastures populated by fairies, pixies and unicorns... but then realised this was just my sun-starved brain playing tricks on me, and none of this had ever happened.
Eventually the clouds did start to clear as I descended into the upper reaches of the Swiss Val Ferret, where in a stroke of pure genius I had booked the very first refuge on the Swiss (ie more expensive) side of the border: the Alpage de Peule at 2071m. This would indeed turn out to be a masterstroke as, after having enjoyed a steaming hot omelette for lunch and settled into the indoor dining room for the remainder of the day, the rain would steadily grow in intensity until it drowned out any attempt at conversation between the battle-weary survivors (ie fellow hikers) assembled by the wood stove. With Abi having also pre-booked a bed at the farmhouse, it didn't take much convincing
Heading into Switzerland
A rare break in the clouds on the descent into the Swiss Val Ferret for both Brent and Catherine (who were 'freelancing' their way along the trail, camping wherever possible) to follow our lead by snapping up a couple of vacant beds in the dormitory. And so the afternoon was passed with quizzes, card games and general frivolity, accompanied by a collective refusal to go outside unless a trip to the bathroom was absolutely necessary.
With spirits at a low point after having been starved of views and occasionally rained upon for the best part of six days - and with both myself and Catherine having suffered food poisoning somewhere between Rifugio Bonatti and Alpage de Peule - we emerged on the Tuesday morning desperately hoping that the forecast clearing of the weather had materialised overnight, and though there were still plenty of clouds around they at least seemed to be hovering above the mountains for a change. And so, with an easier day ahead of us that involved a gentle walk down-valley followed by a relatively brief climb to Champex at the end of the day, Brent and I decided to throw caution to the wind and tackle the 450m climb back up to the Grand Col Ferret in the hope that
Take Two
Abby and Brent atop the Grand Col Ferret - for the second time - with the Italian Val Ferret in the background we might be able to enjoy the views we had been starved of the day before.
On this occasion fortune would favour the brave, for though the high peaks were largely lost in the clouds, the whole of the Italian Val Ferret (and beyond it the Val Veni, leading all the way back to the Col de la Seigne which we had crossed five days earlier) was cloud-free, enabling us to look back over the entire Italian section of the Tour du Mont Blanc. Joined by Abi, who had also decided against her better judgement to add the extra 7km round-trip to her day, we spent the best part of an hour atop the pass gazing out at scenery that we had been denied access to for virtually the entire duration of our stay in Italy; before finally turning tail and striding back down into Switzerland, where Catherine had gone off ahead nursing an upset stomach to get a head-start on the route to Champex.
With various guidebooks describing the walk down-valley as being more 'pastoral' than 'spectacular', there was a school of thought amongst some of our fellow hikers that this equated to 'boring' - which, as
Heading Downstream
Soaking up the sunshine and serenity, somewhere between La Fouly and Issert I pointed out to my companions, is not a word I would ever associate with landscapes in Switzerland. And while some might have been content to save themselves a couple of hours' walking by taking the bus from the town of La Fouly (6km below the farm of La Peule) to Issert a further 10km away, none of our little 'fellowship of the trail' had come all this way to take a bus through one of the most scenic corners of the Alps; and after the gloomy weather of the preceding week we all (with the possible exception of Catherine, who had to nurse her weakened body down the trail) thoroughly enjoyed the long-overdue opportunity to stroll along at an unhurried pace through a bucolic valley, where herds of contented cows shared space with small villages crammed with quaint wooden chalets.
A particular highlight of the day (in addition to the delicious rösti that both Abi and I had enjoyed for lunch in La Fouly) was the narrow balcony path that contoured across the western flank of the valley, with the rushing river of the Drance de Ferret hurtling downstream far below us. Unfortunately it was on this stretch
Cliff-hugging Trail
Abby and Brent leading the way towards Champex of trail that my health issues of the previous day reared their ugly head, and I was suddenly wracked by crippling stomach cramps that threatened to derail an otherwise glorious day; but drastic action was taken just in time to avoid a rare case of 'spontaneous digestive combustion'. Thankfully Brent and Abi (with whom I'd been walking all day) had gone off ahead by this point, so they were none the wiser until I eventually caught up to them on the hour-long climb from the valley floor at 1055m to Champex-Lac (1486m) towards the end of our 30km day. It was here that we each went our separate ways, with Brent joining Catherine at the local campground; Abi continuing a further 3km along the following day's variant route to her overnight stop; and yours truly pressing on another 2km along the next day's standard route to my pre-booked refuge... where I had the pleasure of indulging in my first meal of fondue for the trip!
My penultimate day on the Tour du Mont Blanc offered the final high-level variant, over the Fenetre d'Arpette at 2665m (the equal-highest point on the trail). But this would require double the amount of
Valley Views
Above the treeline in the Val d'Arpette height gain for the day when compared to the main route over the Collet Portalo at just 2040m. When combined with the fact that I still wasn't feeling 100% and that the vast majority of other hikers staying at my refuge were taking the lower route due to the possibility of showers, I was leaning this way myself all morning. But as I shouldered my pack and took a final look out the bedroom window, the blue sky proved too tempting to resist, so I decided to throw caution to the wind and tackle the high route - which according to my guidebook was the most difficult pass crossing of the entire trail. Which way the rest of the gang would be going I had no idea, given that we'd all scattered the evening before to separate lodgings - though it seemed likely we would all be reunited in Le Peuty later in the day.
Starting the day with a glorious walk alongside a rushing 'bisse' (water race), the trail emerged from the woods to strike out across a broad meadow in the lower Val d'Arpette. After this the valley soon narrowed, with both the slopes on either side
Intimidating Climb
Boulder field leading to the final slope beneath the Fenetre d'Arpette and the gradient of the trail itself soon steepening considerably. Eventually I caught sight of the pass - a mere dip in the ridge between jagged peaks at the far end of the valley - as the trail continued to steepen. Each time I stopped for a rest and checked my position on my offline map the gradient for the remainder of the climb had increased (from 25% to 30% to 33%) until I half-collapsed against a large rock after crossing a nightmarish boulder field - where fresh blood splashed across a rock served as a warning against the dangers of slipping - to find myself staring straight up at the most daunting of sights, as the trail switch-backed up to the pass gaining 240m in just 580m at a whopping 40% gradient!
Stopping every few minutes to get my breath back, I finally emerged on the narrow crest of the ridge to be greeted by the startling sight of the Glacier du Trient spilling from a broad snowy bowl nestled between high peaks to my left - its icy tongue reaching down towards the valley it once carved out, even as the reality of a rapidly-warming climate condemns
Pointed Peak
Atop the Fenetre d'Arpette, at 2665m the equal-highest point of the Tour du Mont Blanc it to a slow-motion retreat back towards its birthplace. Adding to the surreal nature of the scene was the arrival of a hunter with a freshly-killed chamois draped over his shoulders (explaining the four gunshots I had clearly heard about an hour earlier), whose obvious pride in his achievement stood in stark contrast to my feeling of disgust at the senseless killing of a wild animal. But my sense of elation was soon restored, as was my bond with both Abi (who had arrived at the pass before me) and Brent (who arrived soon after). I should have known that these two hardy hikers would choose the scenic route!
But if I thought that our hard work was done for the day now that we'd reached the high point, I was to be sorely disappointed! Dropping from the pass almost as steeply as it had arrived, the trail wound downhill whilst hugging the right-hand flank of the valley at a consistent 20% gradient for the next two hours, rarely allowing us the opportunity to stride out freely and ensuring that our knees copped just as much of a hammering on the way down as our calves and quads had
Glacial Valley
View over the upper Vallée du Trient from the Fenetre d'Arpette done on the way up! Only when we stopped for a break at a strategically-placed picnic table beside a locked shepherd's hut overlooking the glacier did I have the chance to relax, and it was a tired and weary version of myself that finally arrived at the Refuge Le Peuty (just outside the village of Trient) more than three hours after leaving the pass.
Taking advantage of the hut's bar/kitchen that remained open throughout the afternoon, I had no sooner checked into the upstairs dormitory (located in an old haybarn with blessedly high ceilings) than I was tucking into a delectable burger - having been unable to get lunch along the way due to a complete absence of refuges or restaurants along the variant route - washed down with one of the best iced coffees I have ever encountered... followed by a second one just for good measure! As hikers slowly filed in from both routes, it came as no surprise to discover that Catherine too had chosen to cross the Fenetre d'Arpette, despite still feeling off-colour. We might not have scaled Mount Doom, but our little trail fellowship had proven its toughness by following the road less travelled;
Sleepy Town
The quaint little village of Trient, with its distinctive pink church and despite nursing sore legs we had all been adequately rewarded! And not just by the burgers and iced coffees.
Leaving Le Peuty in the company of Abi the next morning - with Brent having decided to take another variant that led back up the Vallée du Trient - we faced yet another steep, prolonged climb; though nowhere near as arduous as that of the previous day. And with conversation to distract us - a rarity for me - we seemed to gain height more rapidly than ever, so that within two hours of starting out we had arrived at the Refuge du Col de Balme (2191m), just ten metres short of the French border. For me this would be the final hut atop the final pass leading to the final country - not only of this hike but for my whole European summer - as I was booked on a flight back to the UK from Geneva the following day. As Abi and I prepared to leave in the company of Catherine and Ann (the Dutch woman I had met near the start of the walk, with whom I had been regularly reunited throughout the past ten days)
The Rocky Road Ahead
On the climb to the Col de Balme we couldn't help noticing the familiar form of Brent materialising from the mountainside, having knocked off his alternate trail faster than anticipated.
And so our little 'trail family' was reunited for the final time, as we tackled the super-scenic two-hour descent back into the Valle de l'Arve. With the familiar sprawl of Chamonix and its neighbouring villages occupying the valley floor, and the various peaks and spires of the Mont Blanc massif rearing up between a succession of impressive glaciers, the hour-long traverse between the Col de Balme and the peak of Aiguillette des Posettes (2201m) was as scenic as any section of the route before it; while I had the added bonus of being able to trace some of the route from my previous walk on the Tour du Ruan across the deep trough of the lower Vallée du Trient. But after a final lingering break to soak up the views and snap a succession of summit selfies, it was time for us to negotiate the steep drop down towards Tre-le-champ at 1417m.
And while the rest of the group might have been debating how and when to complete their circuits in Les Houches in the face
The Final Frontier
Looking back at the Refuge du Col de Balme (2191m), sitting atop the pass beside the Switzerland-France border of a threatening weather forecast for the next couple of days, I had no such worries as my loop came to a close at a nondescript wooden cross in Tre-le-champ - the same anonymous location where I had first joined the Tour du Mont Blanc almost two weeks earlier. A final triumphant picture taken by Brent (with Abi watching on) and a hug and handshake later, I was on my way back to Chamonix for a celebratory pizza and pints at the Big Mountain brewpub; while wondering if any future trip could possibly compare to my 'Summer in the Mountains' of 2023. Yet for all that I'd already seen and done, I still had three weeks back in the UK to look forward to before my return to Australia at trip's end... and I still had the Brisbane Lions' preliminary final against Carlton to get excited about in 36 hours' time!
post-script:
After heading out to Geneva Airport two hours early to use the airport's free WiFi to watch the first preliminary final - which saw Collingwood progress with a nail-biting 1-point win over the Giants - I was up at 7am the following morning at my friend's house
Happy Hikers
Summit selfie on the top of Aiguillette des Posettes with Ann, Brent, Abby and Catherine in Harlow, England to watch the Lions play in the penultimate game of the season, marvelling at the chance to watch the action on a full-size television screen instead on my phone's tiny screen for the first time in more than three months. Then the unthinkable happened - despite playing on their home ground where they'd not been beaten all year, the Lions conceded the first five goals of the game to trail by 30 points inside the first quarter. But the fighting spirit and ability to overcome adversity they've displayed all season long came to the fore once again, and by half-time they had inexplicably hit the front. It was a lead they would never relinquish. Brisbane 79 v 63 Carlton.
In seven days' time they would be playing in a Grand Final, for the first time in 19 years. Just when I thought my summer couldn't possibly get any better, there was a chance it might be about to do just that.
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MikeandHelen
Mike & Helen
Epic hike
Thanks for the detailed descriptions of an epic tour du Mont Blanc - it sounds like an awesome walk with an almost endless highlights reel. Great story telling!