Rain, Ruins, and Alpine Trails: Hiking Into Courmayeur on Day Five
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.
Navigating the unstable terrain with sore knees made progress slow, and a sudden realization hit me: I desperately needed a bathroom. Fortunately, the bus station in the city center came to the rescue. With a sense of relief, I stocked up on cash and snacks before heading uphill to the town square. From there, I gazed over the valley, marveling at the village houses and mountains beyond. Courmayeur's streets were lined with luxury shops, wine tasting rooms, and high-end restaurants, a stark contrast to the rugged mountain trails just behind them.
I reunited with Barak and Neta, whom I had met three days earlier, and we walked together until the first mountain ascent outside Villair. Rain began to fall, alternating between cooling drizzle and steady sheets, making the trail slippery and the rivers along the path challenging to cross. I didn't mind, the sound of rain on leaves has always been one of my favorite hiking companions. At Rifugio Bertone, 650 meters above Courmayeur, I took a break and snacked while waiting for Barak and Neta, enjoying the panoramic views of the Aosta Valley.
The high passes of the day, Col Sapin and Pas Entre-Deux-Sauts, were deemed too dangerous under the worsening weather, so we took a flatter, safer route to our final Italian refuge. Even on mostly level ground, the trail was muddy and slick, forcing us to scramble over waterfalls, rivers, and ruins along the way. I paused at the ruins, imagining the people who had once called them home, before making a final push over a short, steep incline to our destination.
The evening was a mix of exhaustion and comfort. I endured my second cold shower, learning the hard way that late arrivals mean less hot water. Dinner was a chance to reconnect with familiar faces from Les Houches and meet new hikers along the way. Outside, the clouds blanketed the mountains, obscuring the stars, but the day's sense of accomplishment and camaraderie made it a perfect alpine evening.