Ensō : A Walk around Mont Blanc --- The Journey Home

Ensō: The Journey Home

I awoke with the knowledge that today would not be spent on the trail, and my time here tucked away amongst the trees in the mountain ranges was soon coming to a close. I had just completed a journey filled with rich experiences and moments that will live on in my memory for all of my life. 

My car-share was to pick me up in a few hours the nearby town of Chamonix. It turns out that Chase and Natsuki were also headed out of town, and instead of walking there we shared the morning train together for the short trip to Chamonix. We said our goodbyes, and began to look forward to staying in touch every once in a while. 

Chamonix was a bustling town, tourism filled the streets and I could see in the distance chairlifts taking eager spectators up into the mountains. I found myself a grocery store and began to stock up; my eyes unable to control their wandering from all the things offered to me at once. I packed my basket full of fruits, meats, cheeses, and chocolates, as well as some more chocolates, sausages, and a bottle of wine (recommended by a local) which I would bring as gifts for my parents whom I would see in two days time. How crazy is that? Here I was in a grocery store in the shadow of Mont Blanc, that same day I would be back in Tübingen, the next I would be in Milan, and then on to California… seemingly a world away from the wine aisle. 

In any case, I found myself a nice spot on a bench and began to watch the people go to and fro while enjoying stuffing myself with fruit and bread and cheese and chocolate. I had quite some time there, soaking in the sun, reading a bit, writing a bit, and in the midst of all of this I once again looked up, surprised to hear my name. A few of the Aussies were walking by! Are you kidding me? I’ve seen them now 3 times. What a crazy world; what a beautiful world. 

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After some time it was time to go get my ride share to Geneva. She was a quick talking, high energy person who was engaging the whole car ride. She even told me about this International Exhibition that happened to be in Milan this year, Expo 2015. I thought since I had half a day in Milan, I would check this out. I suppose the only catch was that she actually couldn’t take me to Geneva, but only to a city about 40 minutes away. Bummer, I thought. Yet, time was on my side, my train back to Tübingen wouldn’t be until much later, and I easily found my way to Geneva by a public bus for under 5 euros. 

Geneva was truly a city. Something which I was far removed from at this time. I decided to simply weave my way into the train station, make my place on a bench and read and eat for the few hours until my train arrived. The ride back consisted of more of the same, and soon enough, I was back in Tübingen. 

Tony had asked if I wanted to meet up, knowing that I had to go to the airport around noon the next day I initially hesitated as I still had to unpack and then repack for my 2 week trip home to California, but I decided to go over in any case. Naturally, he asked about the trip, and being as the only ears I have told about it so far were the pages in my journals, I began to unfurl a J.R.R Tolkien re-enactment of my every movement. Hours later, in the early morning, I finished the recap, which consisted of one day of full details and then eight days of outlines with highlights for the sake of time. It was truly amazing how well I could remember everything. There must be something about motion and memory, I could recall my day through time so easily by tracing my movements from when I woke to when I slept. My entire trip went on in this fashion, like a thread, lacing around the mountains and through the trees, creating a tapestry that I will forever cherish. 

—

I decided to simply crash on Tony’s couch that night, and took an early bus back to my place in the morning. I quickly repacked my bag with what I needed, as well as an additional bag of things I no longer needed and wanted to leave at home. Then I was off to the airport and to Milan. 

I arrived mid-day, and would be spending the night in Milan before taking my flight home. Sometimes this was the price to pay when getting your flights for the minimum amount of airline miles and a few dollars. If you know how to do it right, it turns into quite the layover. First things first, I got myself an amazing gelato from one of the reputable places in the city, lines out the door also helped confirm what the locals were saying.




Then I was off to the Piazza del Duomo, of which I heard about in an Advanced Neuropsychology course during the topic of Spatial Neglect. This was so cool to see in person after visualizing the study 6 years ago. Spatial Neglect is a very interesting phenomena, someone who has it would be essentially ‘blind’ to say, the left half of the world. There are different types, some people would be blind to the left side of say every object, whereas others would be blind to the left side of a central reference point. Now, when I say they are blind, they aren’t really blind… in fact, their visual systems are perfectly intact and functioning. The idea is that some relay which assigns importance and attention to the things in the visual field is broken in some way. Meaning, that if you took a man who had eaten only the right half of his plate of food and pointed out to him that there was food still on the left side of the plate, he very well might give you a surprised “well I’ll be darned!” and go on to eat it. It truly is a weird thing. Anyway, the study in 1978 by Bisiach & Luzzatti in the Piazza went like this: they had two subjects whom they asked to imagine and report the features they saw when they were standing on the steps of the cathedral that is at one end of the Piazza, nearly all of the features mentioned were ones that would have been to their right from that viewpoint, and very few things on the left were recalled. When asked to imagine standing at the opposite end of the square, facing the cathedral, most of the features they mentioned were ones on the other, previously neglected side, which was now to their right. Presumably, the patients were forming a mental image of the Piazza, as viewed from the specified location, and attempting to read off the features around it from their imagery. Clearly knowledge of features on both sides was in their memory (formed before the neglect-causing-event occurred) but they were unable to access all of it normally from their imagery. And here I was! Gazing out from those very steps. Pretty cool.

Next on my things to do was to go check out this international exhibition, “Expo 2015”; the theme was “Feeding the Planet, Energy for Life”. Each year a different country from the 170 participating countries hosts the Expo with a different theme, the last one in Milan took place in 1906. In any case, I made my way there through a series of metro stops, luggage in tow. This latter comment proved to throw me a curveball. It turns out that the Expo does not have a baggage hold, and there were no hotels or businesses or anywhere that I might leave my luggage, trust me, I tried. Now, I wouldn’t mind taking my luggage with me throughout the Expo, it wasn’t much… yet, they minded. It turns out that the bottle of wine and food I purchased for gifts were no-go's. They wouldn’t let me in, and after asking the ticket people for a third time if I could leave these things with them, I left the Expo grounds. Alas, this gave me a bit more time to wander around the city, which is never a bad thing. After a while, I made my way back to the airport, where I would be receiving my 5-star sleeping accommodation. I found a nice spot on an upper floor reserved for offices and away from the hustle and bustle of the airport, blew up my sleeping mattress, and drifted off to sleep until my morning flight, dreaming of sweet California sunshine…



My flight was passed through a series of naps, punctuated by beautiful sights out the window. One of which, I like to believe, was of the alps that I had just walked along. There they were, in all of their splendor, waving to me from above the clouds.





Soon, I landed in Miami. I had 4 hours until my final flight back to California. I suppose I was still energized from my walk, as I ran out of the airport in search of the metro. I flew along the metal rails into the heart of Miami, and began to explore.


My first adventure was found in that of an empanada hand made by the friendliest Venezuelan lady in Miami. And oh my was it a delicious adventure. I think I had 3.

 

Filled with energy, I continued walking along the streets, taking in the sights until a sign claiming they had the world's best pie beckoned me in. The shop was run by a local firefighter who in his spare time loved to bake pies. He was in fact in the shop at the time, and I spoke to him a bit about how he got started and which was his favorite. He told me that key lime was his first pie he ever made, and there was a piece of it sitting right there in front of me, well it was in front of me, and then I ate it. A nice dessert. I figured that the pies would last the plane ride home, and also picked up pieces for my parents.



With a full belly, I had to make my way back to the airport, sliding in just in time for my flight. I settled into my window seat, watched the sunset, and closed both my eyes and this chapter. When I woke up, I was home.

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This is the tenth post of a series of 10 from the Tour du Mont Blanc trek I did in August 2015.
Thanks for following along!

For more adventures, writing, photographs, and even video go to my website: www.InTentsAdventure.wix.com/Explore

If you have any questions or comments, feel free to reach out to me!

Also, if you are interested in using one of my photographs, please reach out to me!
Thanks for reading,
Eric

Ensō : A Walk around Mont Blanc --- Day 9 of 9

Ensō: Day 9

I was one of the first to awake from the 22 person bed and make my way downstairs. I took down my rainfly and a pair of socks which I had left to dry overnight and packed them away in my bag. Since this was to be my last day, and a long one, I decided to inquire into whether I could purchase some bread. Generously, they brought me some sliced bread with jam and honey. I added my jar of peanut butter to the spreads and as I felt the food translate into energy, I enjoyed a great start to my day.

As I was finishing up breakfast, a lady sat next to me who was now starting her second day on the trail. She told me that she had overestimated herself, and being her first day was my long trek upwards yesterday, I could understand her concern. I offered words of encouragement -and since she did not necessarily have to fit the trek in within a certain timeline- we looked at the map together and began to plan a manageable route for her to take. After some conversation with her, I decided it was time to continue on my own way. 

I took my dishes into the kitchen, and also asked if they would mind filling my thermos with hot water so that I could have some tea for the journey. The lady running the refuge took my hands and gave me the most genuine smile, she said I was very “simpatico” and followed that with “very, very nice”, and told me I was welcome back any time. I felt that she considered me family. I wish I could have transcribed her eyes onto paper as she said these things, filled with love and understanding, these great character compliments raised my spirits and gave me such a positive outlook as I said goodbye to my friends at Refuge de Bellachat.

I walked over to the shed, slipped on my damp clothing, and stared directly at the mountains across who seemed to curiously peak out of the grey sky as if they gingerly slumped off the morning fog like a blanket, but then decided to sleep in the warmth of the clouds just a little longer. Yet, these mountains were the ones I had walked across in the days past, todays adventure would take me higher into the mountain range and across the spine to L’index. 

The path weaved upward and upward, I could make out the next few sections through the fog, but nothing farther. A light rain accompanied me throughout the day. The terrain became completely rocky, with patches of green grass holding together the stones like glue. I walked upward for some hours before reaching a small lake, on which raindrops created an endless supply of concentric circles.

Some time later, I reached the top of the mountain. Here a plateau gave sight to countless rock towers which offered their way of guidance. I followed them and soon came to the entrance Réserve Naturelle Aiguilles Rouges, which although had a sign, did not change the landscape. I wound around the mountains like a string, cloaked within the day. All I could see was the trail just in front of me, I could see my immediate steps, and what awaited in the next few steps. The rest of the day was vacant, ready to be imbued with future experiences.

At times, the trail led through lush grass in which wild flowers sprouted; others it gave sight to extraordinary things; still more it seemed to disappear completely at times, only beaded with cairns pointing the way; always it showed itself slowly, offering itself in the way a fern unfurls;  infrequently I could see beautiful and powerful jagged mountains contrasted against the pure backdrop; in its pockets rich grass hung draped with crystal pearls. The trail hugged the mountain, wrapped tightly on its side, providing a narrow ribbon on which to follow. Soon, I found myself face to face with a larger cairn on Col Cornu, it was adorned with a sign: Lacs Noirs was close.

See the small pink circles? That's the trail...

Steeply I followed a trail down into the unknown, the layer of fog hovered just over my head, at times dipping below and encompassing me in its sea. Then, as if all at once, the trail was gone and in my sight was a mirror of water. I felt compelled to go directly toward it, climbing down rock faces and traversing the terrain as if a moth to a flame. I approached a small rock wall and simultaneously my sight of the Lac was occluded. I knew it was close, waiting patiently just on the other side. Carefully, I selected a route and ascended. And there it was, just down below a deep grey harbored a glacier blue. As I continued to get closer, its size stayed hidden from me as if the water stretched and blended into the horizon. I sat on a rock and gazed outward, eating the rest of my food that did not have to be cooked. 

From my map, I saw that there were more Lacs nearby, and being without a trail I decided to simply walk along the border of the water in front of me. The path was not set, and my feet brought me over small streams and weaved me between smaller collections of water sat deep in the hillside. The Lac was endless. I skirted a rocky outcrop which tumbled into the edges of the Lac.  I soon found myself on a thin peninsula of rock, in the distance a marmot cry shrieked and echoed as if a chime was struck. I looked up to the empty grey sky, around to the rock and water which covered my view, and realized that I was completely by myself. My footsteps and the subtle shifting of my pack against my jacket, my breath and the slow lapping of the dense air against my ear were the only sounds in this world. Truly, at this moment, no one knew where I was.

I soaked it in, I could walk in this direction forever it seemed, but the path began to become overtaken with water. My feet were soon completely wet throughout, my boots not withstanding the elements in which they were in. I circled back, retracing some of my steps to the cairn, nearby I freshly saw a bright yellow dot: the way the L’index. 

I began to climb up the stones, picking each step and diligently connecting the dots. I knew I was climbing higher into the fog as ridges of mountaintops once again appeared, their summits protected by a pack of ibex. Respectfully I continued onward, the ibex watching my every step, understanding if I knew what they did. Once I passed, they skipped away like a rock across a lake, while ahead of me rose a set of iron bars attached into the crust of the rock. My feet found positive ground as I crafted my way up. I was now at L’index, and the other side is where the rest of my route resided. 

—

In the next hours I would walk across ridges of mountains, following them upward and then back down to the foot of yet another climb. My energy was waining. I had not eaten a proper meal since breaking the fast with the bread in the morning, my mid-day stop was but a snack. I slugged forward, my eyes following every foot I stepped. Then I saw them: gummy bears! Three sat directly on the rock, while one hung suspended within a bed of water bejeweled grass. I scooped the latter one up and placed it on my tongue as I continued to slot my way up the mountain. It was one of the most delicious things I had ever tasted. The sugar rushed through my body as if pure energy. Up ahead, I could not believe my eyes, two more laid patiently on the rock. Again, I retrieved these gifts which helped me gain the strength to make it to the top. I turned back and gazed at the beautiful mountain lined sky, knowing that this may very well be the last time I’d be on these ridges for this journey. Poetically, my second and final camera battery closed its eyes sent my camera to reflect on its 9 days of experience. 

—

Once I reached the ridge line, I could not see very far in front of me, but a sign for Le Flégère pointed up a gradual dirt road. I followed it and soon I could hear the working of what sounded like a chair lift. My visibility was virtually non-existent, the sound was so powerful now that I found myself walking toward the origin. Empty chair after empty chair wheeled around the base. I walked up to them and a man approached me, surprised, and inquired what I am doing. I asked him about the best way to get to the path to Tre-Le-Champ and Argentière, as at this point they were in the same direction. I had not yet been able to check my messages to determine whether I would be camping or staying with Chase and Natsuki. The man said that I would simply follow the chair lift down these large dirt roads, which will become ski routes in a few months time when they will be covered in snow. He told me that there would be another station for yet another chair lift farther down the mountain. Being unenthused about walking down roads under a chair lift, I inquired if I could ride this one to that station, he said I could, but I would need a ticket and pay 22 euros. I looked at him in disbelief, almost laughing at the situation. I asked simply, “Can I just ride it for free?”. He told me to wait, walked into his small office, came back out and let me onto the lift. Within seconds, I began to descend through the wet sky on a metal wire. I was beginning to become drenched with water, I pulled out my umbrella and placed it in front of me like a shield. The cold metal chilled me, and I simply waited for the ride to reach the destination. 

Upon exiting the chairlift, I found myself at a slightly bigger station which contained a bathroom, and a small café for snacks and recharging. I went inside and saw that there were places where I could charge my phone. I also saw there was food. I purchased two sandwiches, a bag of chips, and a bar of chocolate. Refueling while recharging, I took off my wet socks and boots and let them do whatever sort of drying they could outside under a small roof. My phone soon had enough power to turn on, and it greeted me with a place to stay in Argentière. After finishing up my food, I asked the man who was working how to get to Argentière. He told me in broken English to continue down this road, and when it splits, to take the right path. I thanked him, bought one more bag of chips, and then reluctantly put on my wet foot ware and hoped I would take the right path.

I followed what seemed to be ski routes for some time, stuck on the right hand side, and then came to an entrance into the woods. I darted inside and instantly began to descend. The trail crossed small wooden bridges and was completely emerged in the forest. A crossroads appeared; left to Tre-le-Champ, right to Argentière, only the right path had an additional sign, though in French it seemed to be indicating they were felling trees. I decided that no one would be felling trees at this time and in such weather and proceeded to Argentière. 

It so happens that the fog did not reach its way down here, and I could soon see the rooftops of the small city. My path then changed from one of dirt and rock and grass to one of asphalt. I felt overwhelmed even in such a small place, people sat outside eating, or walking from here to there. I saw a church tower and a bridge and walked toward them, thinking they would be good markers. I found myself sitting along side of a river, taking my shoes off, and waiting to have contact with Chase once again in order for us to meet. I had written him a message describing where I was. Meanwhile, a man walked by me, I decided to inquire whether or not he knew of the place where Chase works. He did, and gave me direction on how I could get there. I decided to write Chase another message telling him I would go to his work. Standing outside the building, I got a reply and I soon saw Chase running down the street toward me. We greeted each other, and then he told me that he is in a bit of a rush because it is the time of the day where he can eat for free at his work, and him and Natsuki were doing so, and then asked if I minded they finish their dinner. There was no problem at all, I went across the way to a small shop in which a man who may or may not be from Turkey and I immediately started an enjoyable bartering process. Outside his shop he had a box of oranges, which appeared to me to be completely overpriced. I jokingly asked if that price was for one orange or for the whole box. He chuckled and told me to come inside. Inside of his shop he had an array of cheeses and meats and oils and probably many other things I am failing to remember. I do remember everything being too expensive for my taste. I mentioned this to him and he then began to talk about this chicken he had, which was the last one for the day that he could not sell, and he would give it to me for say 16 euro. A deal, he said! I looked at it, and in all fairness that might have been a deal, but I talked him down to 7 euros with the old, hey this is what is in my pocket trick. He told me he accepted, but only on the condition I don’t tell people the deal we just made, this was a once in a store-life kind of deal. We laughed and shook hands, and he gave me a chicken and a stack of napkins. I found a spot outside and feasted like I hadn’t in days. 

After we had all eaten our dinners, Chase and Natsuki invited me inside. Graciously, they showed me where I could take a shower and where I could store some things for the night. Chase then inquired whether or not I would be up for going back over to his work, where we could all have a drink and talk. I obliged and we went to try a beer that Chase found particularly good. In all honesty, it was a taste I was not yet prepared for, but we took a seat at a table and chatted for some time while in the background someone was having a party, after all, he worked at a resort. Nine days may not seem like a long time, but being away from such things for nine days certainly highlights different aspects of them when one returns. After this drink, we all decided to call it a night. Back at their place, we spoke for quite a while into the night, and then ended it with a Japanese anime playing on Chase’s laptop. Of which, I must admit, I can recall almost nothing. My eyes blinked slower and slower, and soon, like my camera, it was time to rest. 

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This is the ninth post of a series of 10 from the Tour du Mont Blanc trek I did in August 2015.
Check back within the week for the next post! 
For more adventures, writing, photographs, and even video go to my website: www.InTentsAdventure.wix.com/Explore

If you have any questions or comments, feel free to reach out to me!

Also, if you are interested in using one of my photographs, please reach out to me!
Thanks for reading,
Eric

Ensō : A Walk around Mont Blanc --- Day 8 of 9

Ensō: Day 8

The rain came and came. I certainly did not have the proper tent for this weather, the rainfly worked perfectly, however the moments in between taking off the rainfly and taking the poles out to collapse the mesh tent and fold it would leave the inside vulnerable for at least a good 30 seconds, and that is if I were working at NASCAR pitstop speed. However, it seemed like this is what I was going to have to do. I decided that I would pack everything up inside of the tent and be ready so that if a brief quell came I would burst out of the tent and strip it down as fast as possible. I played the movements out in my mind; first I would have to take the tie-downs up, and as I rotated around the tent I could simultaneously unclip my rainfly, next would come a quick folding of it, popping the poles out of place, then folding the tent over so that the rain wouldn’t go through the mesh but instead hit on the bottom, I would then fold the tent and place it inside of the rain cover fold then stuff it into my stuff sack, and lastly I would collect the poles and pack it all away. Well, the idea was there but the rain was not letting up. I decided that I should use this time to modify my water pouch, I had with me the Sawyer Mini Water Filter, which has a 0.1 micron hole system to filter bacteria from water. I read online before my trip about how one could place this in-line on a water pouch, so I took out my multi-tool and hoping that it would all work out: cut my hose. I plugged in the Sawyer to both ends, and lo and behold I now had an in-line water filter! Great! This took some time, and after some more time, after eating and a bit of reading, I decided that I would count to 60 seconds and if the rain let up during this time at all I would explode out of the tent and tear it down, and if it didn’t let up, well, I would leave the tent anyway at the 60 second mark. Around the 30 second mark I heard a brief respite from the storm, and as planned, I burst out of the tent and began to take it out with pre-orchestrated movements, saving me quite a bit of time and therefore wetness. After it was packed away, I took another moment to grok where I slept the night before, and then headed onward and upward through the forest canopy. 

Soon I came to a sign which described the route I still had to walk in a bit more detail. I saw there was something like a wildlife zoo up ahead, it wasn’t exactly on the route, but it wasn’t exactly out of the way either. I was studying a route to go along the zoo while still in the right direction when I heard “Eric?!”. Hearing my name was certainly not something I expected, and I turned around to see Nasuki! She decided to take the day to explore this very wildlife zoo as Chase had work that day. We chatted briefly, wished each other well and then went on our separate ways. 

I dove into the forest and climbed higher and higher, keeping a visualization (and a photograph) of the route that I planned to take. A bit later, I found the fence line for the preserve and began to walk alongside it. Many animals were out grazing in the field, soaking in the nice drizzle the storm had amounted to. Then, almost expectedly, I see Nasuki again! We say hi, I took a photo of her with a moose in the background, and then once again we went our separate ways. 

I walked for some time through this forest, coming across various via-ferrata type portions, winding upward and upward through switchbacks. Being as my technique to string the switchbacks together and walk directly up had worked before, I tried it again. This time, however, things did not pan out so smoothly. I didn’t find the trail again for quite a long time, and when I did find it, I was a bit disoriented as to the direction I should go since the whole time I was within trees, turning back and forth. I decided to go left, but after about 5 minutes, I had a sinking feeling that I was going the wrong way, so I simply turned and began to walk in the other direction. 

It turns out this was a good decision, and I soon got one of my first sights out of the trees toward where my destination resided… way up the mountain. The trail hugged the mountainside weaving in and out of the forest, sometimes with chains to hold onto for the less sure-footed. Soon I came to a rushing stream that came from somewhere up above, and simultaneously two people emerged going in the opposite direction. I inquired about how far along the next water source would be, and they said it took them well over 2 hours to get to this point and they had been walking steeply downhill. I thanked them for the information and then proceeded to give my newly designed water pouch its first test run in the wild!  

The water was icy and delicious, and gave me a good pick up to keep trekking up this mountainside. The trail carved itself along, giving amazing wide open views of the backs of mountain ridges I had come from the day before. It seemed as though the trail would go forever onward, I had already climbed up a brutal 1200 meters straight, and as I went on, the storm began to pick up once again as well. Fog and rain began to encroach on the trail. I was thoroughly soaked, dripping even. Just then, a small refuge popped out of the skyline, and I sought it out to enjoy some lunch and dry conditions. 

Looking back on the trail...

The hosts of Refuge de Bellachat were a sweet lady and her hired help of two young guys, perhaps 16 and 21 years old. I asked if it would be okay to come in and have lunch inside, they obliged and told me that I could leave my wet things in the shed next door and to change into dry clothes before coming in. I did so but told them that I had no other change of pants, they chuckled and invited me inside. I took a seat at a booth in the corner and began to read and write a bit. They kindly gave me hot water so that I could brew some tea that I had with me, and I ate the rest of the bread and cheeses that I had with me as well. These things were very comforting.

My plan was to just defrost a bit, and then get going again, but in looking at the map and at the time, the reality that I would not be able to complete the entire circuit set in. The reality that my trip would not be a circle, but somewhat of an open “C” with many squiggles going to and from the main line. This is where the title of my story comes in: Ensō. The concept expresses when the mind is free to let the body create, and it is a practice by which one draws or paints in a fluid stroke the shape of a circle. Two things can occur: one would be that of a circle, complete and closed, to practitioners this would symbolize perfection in the sense of Plato’s perfect form, while an unclosed circle on the other hand allows for movement and development. It is said to relate to Zen practitioners “wabi-sabi” or the beauty of imperfection. It were here where I recognized that my circle was that of the latter case, it won’t be closed, it wasn’t perfect, but it certainly was beautiful and I have developed so much through the experience of making it. In time, perhaps my perfect circle will come, but for now, I am very content with the circle I drew. I wrote in my journal: There is something about the trail, something about walking… it’s simple, and in its simplicity it is beautiful. Put one foot in front of the other, over and over again, you will see beautiful things, adventures await…” 

I was taken out of my thoughts with another unexpected occurrence. Michelle, Jess, Nicole, Sarah, and Rossy (the Australians/New Zealander) came into the refuge to seek a reprise from the weather outside, which had turned even worse. What are the chances of that? They were hiking in the other direction when we first met on my second day! We chatted for a bit, and they had a bit of hot drinks and food. In the midst of this, one of the two workers came and asked if I wanted a spot to sleep as there was only one left. Upon hearing this, the Aussies suggested that I take him up on it as there wasn’t another shelter for some time and the weather outside was clearly dreadful. So, I did. I was able to give a bit of money just for the shelter, instead of purchasing dinner and breakfast as well. With this decision made, I headed briefly upstairs to lay out some of my items to dry and collect what I wanted with me for the rest of the evening. I went back down with a pile of books and journals. The Aussies soon headed out, and we said our goodbyes once again. 

As dinner time approached, the area I was in began to fill with people and hanging wet clothes crowded amongst a single wood-fire heater. The lady nicely asked if I could move to another table to make room for the people, of course I did, but the set up was now a bit funny as the tables were in the shape of a horseshoe, and I was alone at a table at the top of the horseshoe with maybe 10-15 people on each side of me. A group consisting of three generations was directly to my left, and somehow the idea came to them and they asked me if I were a professional athlete. I laughed and said no, and we talked a little bit and then resumed our own activities. To my right I could hear the distinct German language, so when the opportunity presented itself I spoke with them a bit as well. There were some nice people in this hut tonight. Dinner came out, consisting of a variety of delicious looking things, though I did not gaze on them with envy because I was able to secure a bit more hot water and poured that into my pot with some potato flakes and went on happily enjoying my simple meal. Yet, much to my delight, one of the two guys brought me out a big bowl of Bolognese Spaghetti! MY OH MY what a treat! The others finished their courses, and another was brought out that resembled omelettes, and soon thereafter I was being offered what the others couldn’t eat: a platter filled with at least 5 portions from my left, and another platter with a portion on my right. I ate as much as I possibly could, being sure to sincerely thank the offerers. Lastly, dessert came out, and the same happened once again. It seems I was the only one who truly brought an appetite! :) I wrote two different things about this in my journal: 1) Peoples generosity is pleasing and encouraging. 2) I am so full. And happy. 

Throughout the meal I planned what I would do on my final day of hiking, day 9, as day 10 would (hopefully) consist of me finding a way back to Geneva and then taking the train to Tübingen, where then I would board a plane early the next morning to the USA for a visit home. With this in mind, I had an epic, all-day hike planned that would take me well up into the ridge lines crossing glacier lakes and via-ferrata mountain sides. One of the two guys, who I wish I remembered his name, helped me with coordinating another “BlaBlaCar” (ridesharing) from Chamonix to Geneva! So, my plan after all the hiking was to end up in Argentiere, where Chase lives, because from there I knew I could easily make my way to the larger town of Chamonix. I managed to send Chase an email just before my phone died asking whether if I did end up there, if could I sleep on his floor. I hoped to somehow charge my phone for a few minutes and check for replies the next day. If that didn’t work out, I had a location where I would be able to camp that was nearby, I could make this decision tomorrow. 

Feeling grateful for my night, I helped them clean up, and wrote a few more entries in my journal before heading in for sleep. I’ll leave you with two of them: 

“One thing I’ve gathered from this adventure is that it feels so good to have your items and mind in order. Organization is such a joy. I love knowing exactly where my items are within my backpack. I love the confidence that comes with being able to address and speak to any person who crosses my path because I am so comfortable with myself and I intend to be as patient and helpful as humanly possible to each soul that may cross my path.”

“Remember, this trek is not about walking from one spot, making a circle, and arriving back at that spot. It is about the journey, the experiences, the people who you have met and the ones who you have helped on their way, whether indirectly or directly. It is about how much you grew, how you challenged yourself, how you came to terms with your own fragility, with your own humanity. It is about the mountains, the trees, the rivers and streams, the waterfalls, the glaciers, the wind, the rain, oh, the rain, and also the sun, the trail under your feet, and knowing, that through it all, for the entire journey, the trail is always under your feet… finding out where the trail leads is your responsibility, it is your opportunity.” 

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This is the eighth post of a series of 10 from the Tour du Mont Blanc trek I did in August 2015.
Check back within the week for the next post! 
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Thanks for reading,
Eric