Snow Hiking

Over breakfast Thijs told me that he woke an hour before call-time, at 0600. Same as I. Anticipation? Possibly. It didn’t matter though, I felt rested. We enjoyed a quick oatmeal breakfast, changed into our hiking clothes and left the house at 0745. At the boulangerie we picked up croissants and in one bite I had confirmed what I already knew. They should not be allowed to bake croissants anywhere outside France. These ones were the real deal.

We hopped on the bus and got out a half hour later at elevation of 1200 meters (my buddies jested about my use of miles, telling me I’m back now, and should abhor to using the metric system again). We planned on hiking onto several peaks a little below 2000 meters today. It would be cloudy, with rain/snow forecasted for later the afternoon. We had no idea how long the hike would take, nor did we really care. We were just going to wing it.

We were preceded by a young man who bore a strong resemblance to somebody we knew back in the day in College, and dubbed him Martin. Martin trod on in front of us, with a very determined pace. We wondered if Martin did know where he was going, all by himself, alone in the snowy forest.
We hit our first road-bump after 15 minutes, as we stumbled upon a fork, lacking any signs or posts marking which was the right trail. We wondered which way Martin would have gone. Gino chose right.
So we went right.
For a good 30 meters.
That’s when the trail became so steep, that none of us seemed to make it uphill any further without eating snow.
So we headed back and chose left.
We wondered if Martin was laughing at us from somewhere between the trees.

I really enjoyed the first couple hours. It felt good to be outside. Our spirits were high, and we reminisced through telling stories of the good times we had in Utrecht and abroad together.
Every now and then we’d hike across a clearing in the woods and we enjoyed the sights of the surrounding ridges. The views were spectaculair, which made me appreciate the given that yesterday morning I woke in my own bed in the flattest country in world. Yet here I was today…
Yeah, the mountains are good.

I quoted a line by Robert McFarlane to the guys;

“People who climb mountains are half in love with themselves, half in love with oblivion.”

” Isn’t that the guy who wrote Family Guy? ” – Thijs asked dryly.

The final spur to the first peak left us exposed, the winds picking up significantly. We were post-holing like crazy in the deep snow, our feet pretty soon soaking wet. Upon the highest point that we deemed safe, there was a small scramble which would give us close to a 360 degree view. It took 4-5 different holds to climb up the snow covered granite slab, which left our hands numb. With the lashing cold winds whipping our skin, we snapped a few photos before heading down. We were pretty content on having climbed up as high as we did in good time though.

We were joined by two male skiers, and chatted a little with them in French. The friendly lads asked us if we had brought food with us for the way down.

“Oui“, I responded cheerfully, ” Baguette et charcuterie!”, which made them laugh. As if the idea of enjoying some nice Serrano, Salami and Chorizo in 5 feet of snow was anything short of ridiculous… We descended together with the 2 guys, who’d hiked up to scout for alternative routes off the mountain. We learned from them that we were nowhere near the intended peak we’d set out for.
Oh well…
They suggested us another “easy” route, which as we would learn later, was the one we’d been aiming for all along. We wondered if Martin was somewhere crying his eyes out with laughter over our clumsy attempts at crusading the winter landscape. We were still having fun though.
We discussed having lunch in the snow, or postponing it till later, possibly in the warmth of one of the local ski-restaurants. We opted for the latter.
And so we hiked on, towards Charmant Som, our second high-point of the day.

We broke out above tree-line around noon, making our way along the saddle, getting ready for the final climb. The winds had picked up, and were beating our now tired bodies relentlessly. The trail was flattened by the many tour-skiers preceding us, and at a slight angle it took a lot of focus and precarious footing to not slide down the slippery slopes. At this stage my phone had died from the cold, and our feet were soaking wet. We now eyed the dark clouds that had gathered in the not so far distance suspiciously. The people we encountered were all on skies, we seemed to be the only ones out hiking. We kept post-holing and made slow progress, growing more tired. My fingers and toes were numb, and though I wasn’t worried, I now was not really enjoying myself either. Ten minutes after passing a sign which stated we were approximately 45 minutes from the summit we took a halt. Raising our voices against the hauling winds we briefly discussed our approach. The decision to start descending was made quickly; we didn’t like the look of the looming dark skies, and the thought of post-holing for another hour and half with already freezing feet and hands did not appeal to any of us. I grew a bit grumpy now, and zoned back into my PCT-grind mindset, telling myself not to whine and just keep it moving, until we made it back into the shelter of the trees. As soon as we did, we found our voices and smiles again; we made the right decision. An hour later we were back at the ski-resort enjoying warm coffees.
We wondered if Martin had made it to the top of Charmant Som…

After getting warm and comfy in the shelter of the ski-resort we went to check the bus-schedule back to Grenoble.
No luck; almost 2 hour wait for the next shuttle down into the valley. We decided to try hitching. Thijs asked us how long we would wait for a ride before heading back into the restaurant to bide our time for the bus. I suggested no more than fifteen minutes.
It didn’t get to that. The 3rd vehicle driving in our direction pulled over! The friendly couple dropped us off within a 5 minute walk from Gino’s home. We coudn’t have been happier.

Back at Gino’s casa we feasted on a baguettes and charcuterie as we discussed the day. We had fun, and were all glad we decided to call it when we did. We’d spend a solid half day hiking through the snow and by the end of it were pretty shattered. Thankful for a hot shower, we settled in the welcome sense of relaxation which comes after a heavy exertion. Our faces flush from the being exposed to icy winds all day.

We enjoyed the rest of the afternoon hanging out, and walked over to a tiny bistro in the city-center to enjoy a wonderful dinner later that night.
Time to call it day now.
A pretty grand day.

At my gate I’ll always greet you
At my door you’re welcome in
There can be no transgression
As a means to an end

On the wind the wolves are howling
Helping arms are closed in fear
Helping hands are clenched in anger
Broken hearts beyond repair

Everything’s so great can’t get better, makes me wanna cry
That I’ll go out howling at the moon tonight

The Wolves – Mandolin Orange