European AlpsTour duMont BlancSep 2nd - 13th, 2018

I've hiked before in the Andes while doing the Torres del Paine in Patagonia and San Jose de Maipo outside Santiago, Chile, both climbs of around 600 meters. But nothing prepared me for hiking into, up, and over mountains. My second trip to France brought me to Les Houches, a quaint village perched above a valley. Arriving late the night before, I was immediately thrust back into backpacking mode, and dinner at a local auberge set the tone for what lay ahead. Seated with a table of mostly French-speaking hikers, I felt an instant camaraderie; we were all here for the same reason: the Tour du Mont Blanc...read more.

Day two of the Tour du Mont Blanc pushed me to heights I'd never reached before. The hike up to Col de la Croix was brutal, and the pictures I'd taken didn't even capture the steepness of the trail. Today was a mix of walking, scrambling, and pulling myself over rocks and boulders, testing every bit of strength and endurance I had. The day began with a descent of 750 meters into Les Contamines, winding through twisting roads and trails. I even got lost twice trying to find the town center, but the charming streets and quaint architecture made the detours worth it...read more.

Reaching the top of the Tour du Mont Blanc highpoints is a surreal experience. At the Col des Fours, 2,665 meters above sea level, nothing but mountains surrounded us. The pedestal marking the highest point gleamed with ice, and the valley below seemed like another world entirely. Today promised a marathon of hiking, but first we soaked in the views and shed our outer layers to enjoy the crisp alpine air...read more.

I started the day eager to hike toward the Col de la Seigne, but a lack of research quickly reminded me that mountains don't always follow your expectations. Instead of a simple descent, the trail cut straight across the face of Mont Tondu, a technical traverse filled with slippery clay, boulders, steel cables, and chains. Every step was a challenge, forcing me to balance, scramble, and trust my trekking poles, while constantly scanning for cairns and double yellow trail markers to stay on course. By the time I reached the final vertical climb to the col, the feeling was not just relief, it was pure triumph. I had pushed myself and emerged stronger for it...read more.

The day began bright and sunny as I descended toward the skiing town of Courmayeur, transitioning from sandy trails to paved streets. Most of the hike took place under the forest canopy, offering glimpses of ski lifts and paths on the surrounding hills. Along the way, I passed an abandoned house tucked deep in the trees, its crumbling floors and holes in the roof telling silent stories of a life long gone. I couldn't resist exploring, marveling at the eerie beauty of forgotten spaces before continuing down the trail...read more.

The morning began under a blanket of clouds as I left the Rifugio, with Mont Blanc teasingly hidden from view. The trail took me past several abandoned buildings, and I couldn't resist exploring each one before descending along the zig-zagging path through the valley. Clumps of evergreens lined one side of the trail, while the stark gray cliffs of rockslides towered on the other. At a quiet river, I paused to snack and enjoy the gentle sound of rushing water, a rare moment of solitude before the ascent to Rifugio Elena...read more.

Today began with a bit of adventure before the hiking even started. A backpacker we'd met at Maya Joie had told us about a massive waterfall just past La Fouly, and I was determined to check it out. Leaving town, we quickly found ourselves in the forest, descending toward a river crossing before continuing north toward the waterfall. What seemed like a gentle path revealed itself as steep and slippery with morning dew, but the payoff was breathtaking. I scrambled carefully near the base of the falls, feeling the spray on my face, and paused to savor the raw power and beauty of the cascading water...read more.

The day started under perfect blue skies, with sunlight streaming through the trees as I hiked through the woods in the early morning. There's something magical about walking through a forest with light filtering down in golden beams, it makes every step feel deliberate and slow. Since I had explored parts of the trail the night before, the first 30 minutes were easy, giving me time to enjoy the scenery and prepare for the bigger climb ahead...read more.

We bid farewell to our hostesses at Refuge du Peuty, thanked them for the unforgettable dinner and music, and set off for the final Col of our trek. I surged ahead of the group, hiking through the tree-covered trail, where the receding village and valley floor were hidden from view. Once I broke above the treeline, the vistas returned in full force: mountains plunging dramatically toward the valleys below, dotted with pink wildflowers and abandoned houses...read more.

Everyone warned me about the ladders, claiming they were the scariest part of the trip, but with the alternate route closed due to a landslide, there was no avoiding them. The morning sun peeked over the mountains as we left Tré-le-Champ and entered the woods. We steadily climbed, navigating tree roots and rocky outcroppings, including the massive Aiguillete d'Argentière monolith, a rock the size of a two-story house that had long ago fallen from the mountain's peak...read more.

I thought today would be a leisurely three-hour hike to the last mountain refuge of the trip, but I was quickly proven wrong. I started out slowly, strolling under ski lifts and along gently sloping forest paths, enjoying the crisp morning air. The trail soon challenged me with steep boulder fields, each with dizzying drops below, far more intimidating than anything I had encountered so far. The pictures hardly do the scale justice...read more.

The last morning of the trek was bathed in a stunning orange sunrise, which I tried to capture in every photo as I descended the mountains. Ibexes kept me company along the way, adding a touch of Alpine magic. On my path, I passed the imposing Le Christ Roi statue, a sudden and awe-inspiring sight rising from the valley floor. Crossing the final river and passing the train station, I felt a sense of completion: the journey that had begun days ago now behind me. My hiking boots and backpack were no longer black, but coated with the dust and dirt of countless mountainsides...read more.