My eyes slowly open with the sound of the quick-fingered Tabla players of India, ra-ta-ta-ta-ra-ta-ta-ta, drumming away on my tent with an ordered chaos. I was still in the middle of a storm. This gave me some time to simply sit and relax, and it also gave me time to realize that although my camera batteries have been holding up strongly to the last 6 days without a charge, my SD card (my camera’s storage space) was full! This quickly gave me an uneasy feeling in my stomach, as I knew that my SD card was completely empty upon arrival, which made me think that I either must delete moments that I captured from the first 6 days, or forego capturing any more video or photograph for the next 4 days. What a decision! After flipping through my contents, I decided that I could afford cutting a large period of a time-lapse I made of myself while climbing the Roches Merles two days before. This freed room to take photographs for the day, and as I was approaching Les Houches today, I had hopes that this common start-point of the trek would have stores where I could refill my supplies and possibly obtain an SD card. With these positive thoughts in my mind, I made breakfast, ate breakfast, and then lied back down to wait for the storm to pass.
I awoke the second time to a gathering of dew drops hanging onto my tent, basking in the morning sunlight. Altogether, what a great sleep that was! Truly, all night I could hear the glacier ice shifting in place as if it were rolling over to get comfortable; all the while the percussionist of the sky pattered away softly atop my tent while a beautiful cellist bowed the trees. I couldn’t have dreamed it better. I crawled out of my cocoon, put on my shoes, and peaked my head out of the tent. There I was, surrounded by beauty, surrounded by gorgeous nature as far as my eye could see. No where could I spot another trace of man. The Bionnassay glacier shined in the distance, while brush and trees gently swayed in the morning breeze. Up ahead, fog rose from the depths of the valley I would soon meet.
I began to take down the tent, shaking off the water collected by the storm and laying each piece on the crescent moon shaped rock to dry, if only a little, my pack always was heavier after a storm. I wiped the tent down a bit with a towel I had handy, and then tied the towel on the back of my pack to dry as I hiked for the day.
As I was enjoying breakfast, a group of three came upon my campsite, soon to descend down the large climb I made yesterday. They commented how it seemed that this campsite was perfectly made for me, and I agreed while telling them about how great it was to have slept there last night and relaying the story about the Bionnassay glacier. Soon enough, I was ready to begin my walk for the day, and as I started the descent, I couldn’t help but keep the Bionnassay glacier in my peripheral attention.
Soon I was headed down through tree-covered terrain, I could hear the powerful river beside me, but I could not see it. It seemed as though I was walking down a maze blazed by the path of least resistance, filled with turns and funnels, all covered by a permanent fog.
According to the map, a “Himalayan style” suspension bridge was to take me across this river, and when I got there, I was not disappointed in what I saw. The bridge stretched across the roaring river, hanging as it seemed by an iron thread above a portion of the river that flew off the edge of a cliff and reformed below. I paused at the beginning and took in all of the surroundings, and then I began to walk across, only to pause in the middle and feel the suspension inherent within the bridge. The second half of the walk I played with the pressure under my feet, as if I were in a jump-house bouncing back and forth on the bridge. With the beautiful white-noise sound of the river below, it was quite the experience.
According to the map, a “Himalayan style” suspension bridge was to take me across this river, and when I got there, I was not disappointed in what I saw. The bridge stretched across the roaring river, hanging as it seemed by an iron thread above a portion of the river that flew off the edge of a cliff and reformed below. I paused at the beginning and took in all of the surroundings, and then I began to walk across, only to pause in the middle and feel the suspension inherent within the bridge. The second half of the walk I played with the pressure under my feet, as if I were in a jump-house bouncing back and forth on the bridge. With the beautiful white-noise sound of the river below, it was quite the experience.
Upon crossing, I noticed the path darted off to the left, farther down and farther away from the river. I was a bit disappointed for a moment because after hearing the river for so long I was finally given a glimpse of its beauty, but it seemed as though now I was set to walk away from it once again. This brief encounter did not satisfy me, so instead I did a bit of bushwhacking up to the right. I had to utilize a bit of rock climbing to lower myself onto the portion where the river met the shore, but after doing so I was right there next to it in all of its glory.
As I had not had an opportunity to refill my water since embarking up the climb yesterday, and I still had quite a ways before arriving in Les Houches, I thought this would be a great opportunity to try out my Sawyer Mini Water Filter (you can find the review: here). I took out the Sawyer pouch, filled it up from a flow that I could reach alongside a large rock, screwed on the Sawyer Mini Filter and it was ready to go! It really is as simple as that. Now, unfortunately, the Sawyer pouch is only 0.5L (16oz) which is not a lot of intake for a thirsty hiker like myself. Being as I didn’t want to stand there and squeeze pouch after pouch into my larger water pouch, I took a look up at the Bionnassay glacier and thought: if that isn’t pure water I don’t know what is! I proceeded to fill up my entire pouch with the icy glacial water, wrapped it in a jacket, and placed it into my pack. I was ready to continue now.
After a while longer of navigating the trail I came to a crossroads, and perhaps it was because I was drinking parts of itself but the Bionnassay glacier was calling to me. The situation however stood like this: the path to the left took me onward to Les Houches, the path to the right took me in the opposite direction of Les Houches, but in the direction up toward the Bionnassay glacier. At this point, I have completely embraced my intuitive movements… I turn right.
The path is offset from the one I was just walking down, but certainly it was parallel in some respect, as if I were going back to where I had just came from. It seems after I made this decision the weather started to turn; a dense fog rolled in which severely limited vision. Soon I came to a large open plain as it began to lightly rain, it contained perhaps 8 or 9 large cows or bulls and amazingly… a horse! This horse had a beautiful white mane and tail in stark contrast to its light brown coat. What is the horse doing with them? It was an odd sight.
I continued onward and I began to now climb upward, it was soon after this point where the light rain turned into an absolute downpour. Learning from my past experiences, I was quick to pull out my compact umbrella to shield myself from the brunt of the water. The path continued higher and higher, and if I gazed back, I could see the plains with the magical horse and the river flowing downward as I carried part of it back up to its source like a salmon heading home.
Yet, unlike the salmon, I was not meant to live in water, and yet here I was, in the middle of millions of streams of water pouring down on me from the heavens. I truly was in a storm; thunder began to shake the sky as flashes of light flickered amongst the fog canvas, and more so, the rain began to turn into hail. When in such a situation, there comes a certain amount of comfort in having a shelter nearby or knowing that a potential shelter is close at hand, at the moment I had neither. I had been weaving my way up the mountainside for a few hours now, and by my account there was no sense in retreating back down in attempts to get to Les Houches, which would be at least 4 hours away. In my current direction I had hope since the initial sign post hinted at a refugio at the top near the glacier itself, and my map appeared to show me that I could make a round-about way to Les Houches from there, or I had planned to find one if not. So with this all being said, it did not seem like going backwards would be my solution, but continuing upward, soon to be coming to a ridge line exposed to the sky did not seem like a good idea at the time either. Therefore I propped myself up against a rock, placing my umbrella on top of the rock as some sort of makeshift roof, and though it may seem like a great idea in writing, it did not really work too well. The rain was relentless and paired with chilled gusts of wind. I was soon both cold and wet. I decided that I was no safer sitting here like a garden gnome than I was hiking up to the glacier, in which I would at least have my warm blood pumping through my body once again. With these thoughts in mind, I pushed onward.
It seems again the weather adhered to my decision. The storm quelled, a light drizzle was present, but after the storm it was perceived as simply pleasant. The fog however had not gone away, and climbing higher only increased its potency. I was no longer on a path, but simply walking in the most direct upward direction. Amazingly enough, I passed a couple, we exchanged perhaps smiles at another being at such a place at such a point in time, along with the proper bonjournos. I did notice that the guy had a backpack, but the girl did not. This made me think that either there was indeed a refugio at the top of this mountain after all and they were hiking down from it, or that they had done a day-hike from Les Houches to the glacier and were now trekking back. I was left to ponder this as I continued upward, sifting through the fog. I wrote in my journal: “I cannot see anything through this fog, correction!, I see an outline of an Ibex”. And there it was... a lone ibex appeared, and we both paused, both unsure in entirety what we were gazing upon. I managed to take a few photographs as I crawled closer to him, until finally the invisible trip wire was set, and he turned and went on his way, and I mine. A little while later, as I blinded walked higher, I stumbled (almost literally) upon a crossroad sign: <— Le Nid d’Aigle (Eagle’s nest) / Bionnassay glacier —> … At this point, I could not even see the refugio, so I decided it did not make sense to walk another who knows how far for shelter when the place I wanted to get to all along was in the opposite direction. I set out once again to the right.
Amazingly enough, the weather was cooperating beautifully and the fog began to lift just enough to grant me a magnificent front row seat to the glacier. I was alone up here, besides another pack of Ibex that were also taking in the view. I made it. I was right there in front of the glacier that I slept under, whose water I was drinking and had on my back; it was powerful, and beautiful. Spires seemed to grow out of the top like dragon heads rising from a long slumber. Within the dirt and rock, amongst the fog, I could see the pure blue heart of the glacier pulsating.
After some time, I headed toward the Eagle’s nest. Upon arriving, I noticed there was a group of 4 people sitting around a table, I opened the door and inquired if they would mind that I ate lunch inside, only, I did not intend to buy lunch but eat my own. They understood and graciously invited me inside. The relief from the elements was comforting, I was able to defrost a bit and determine what my next move would be. Some deliberation later, I inquired if they knew how I could attempt to make it to Les Houches. Some of them laughed, now understanding that I did not make it to the Eagle’s nest like people usually do. This is when I learned that some 200 meters farther down the road a train makes its final stop, cutting through the mountain itself and bringing people up here to view the glacier and soak in the view atop this mountain. I was absolutely stunned. They then told me that the very last one down leaves in 7 minutes, and on this train two of people currently sitting were operators. The two soon rose and headed out the door while saying I was welcome to come along if I wished. In saying this, of course, they were not waiting for me. I decided not to second guess coincidences like this, and I quickly packed my bags and ran out the door, thanking the owners for the temporary shelter. Jogging down the trail I caught up with the other two just as we approached the small station. I saw that there was a ticket booth but with no one in it, I don’t remember exactly but the price was very pricy. I don’t know if it was because I met these two or what the reason was, but I simple walked onto the train while everyone else got their ticket checked. I decided it would be smart to stay close to these two. As we began the journey downward, I realized that this train itself does not stop in Les Houches. Quickly I had to communicate to the others what my intentions were and come up with a plan to get me going in the right direction. They debated whether I should get off on the next stop, or the one after that. A last second decision had me jumping out of the door, and now here I sat at another tram station, one stop from Les Houches, all alone.
I approached another ticket window and this time unfortunately had to pay for a ticket down one more stop, however, this was very inexpensive compared to the amount for the total journey I would have had to fork over. She informed me that the next tram wasn’t for another 30 minutes or so, and I took this time to try to communicate to her that I really really needed to find an SD card for my camera. I was in the middle of attempting to explain to her what an SD card was when I heard a voice from the side emerge out of a forest trail: “I can give you one. I always carry 4 with me.” I’m not sure, but perhaps my jaw dropped. “WHAT?!” I both thought and later wrote in my journal. Not only was this voice a seeming God-send, but it was coming from the guy of the couple I passed back on top of the mountain a few hours ago! We laughed as we found out we both thought the other was French, and then found out that he is from Canada, and she is from Japan. Chase and Natsuki. He quickly pulled out an awesome 32GB card (which I still use today) and gave it to me no questions asked. I think it would have stayed like that too if I didn’t insist that I give him some cash for it. How amazing, I thought. This Universe is a beautiful place. Not only did it turn out that they would save my day SD-card-wise, but they both turned out to be some of the coolest people! I was able to know this because just then another stormed rolled in which stopped the tram service and placed us at a decision whether to hike down the rest of the way or wait out the storm inside. I think because we had a good initial connection and we all had been walking all day through storms, we chose to just take this time to rest inside and talk. It is funny how much you can talk after not talking for almost two days. As I said, we all seemed to mesh right away. I do believe, some of the best things happen when traveling without a plan.
Soon enough, the weather let up enough to let us go down on the tram. It turns out that Chase is working at an adventure-resort in a nearby town called Argentiere, while Natsuki, his girlfriend, is visiting from Japan. They took me to a local place which they said makes the best bread. I particularly welcomed this as I had just finished eating my bread that I bought at the farm house a long three days ago. Better yet, because it was so late they had half-priced bread and sandwiches. I bought a sandwich which I ate immediately, and two small loaves of bread which I packed. We talked a bit more as we ate our food and waited for their bus to Argentiere. At this point, I was unsure of what my plan would be. I suppose I wanted to find somewhere where I could set up my tent being the rain had let up for now. In any case, I first planned to get a new canister of fuel as mine was running very low and I would not cross another store for the remainder of my journey. After we said our goodbyes and exchanged contact information, I went to do just that.
This town had a few adventure stores that were still open, and I walked into one and easily purchased a new canister while leaving my old one there for anyone who may need it. After all, Thi and I once did a 5-day trek in Patagonia using only a mishmash of partially-used canisters. I also inquired about places to camp with the store clerk, she told me that there wasn’t really anywhere that I could legally camp around the town… but if I were to pack up first thing in the morning there was a park about a kilometer down from here. Being the park was in the general direction I had to walk anyway, I decided to go check it out.
Once I began walking again I found my groove, partially because the ground was pretty flat now, and partially because the weather was superb compared to what I endured earlier. I did look at the park, but that was about all I did as I walked pass it without so much as slowing down. I was now headed into Parc Merlet, a forested area on the way to the next destination.
A series of switchbacks soon had me headed uphill once again. I passed a group of 3 going the opposite direction and inquired if there were any good camping spots up ahead, they said they did not know, but that I shouldn’t go too much higher as the area began to become steeper and there would be less chance to find a flat area to camp. I kept this in mind but simply could not find my spot. A few times I went off trail because I thought I saw a good area, once in fact I was all but unpacking when I noticed the immense amount of ants crawling under me. I kept climbing. Then, finally, as dusk began to set I found a beautiful spot amongst a broken down stick house. It seemed as though someone once lived here. There was the perfect camping spot. Raised with runoffs for water on every side, a small clearing gave me a view of the forest below, and I had a bit of tree cover above as well. I could not have been happier as I set my tent up and crawled into it. What a day.
A series of switchbacks soon had me headed uphill once again. I passed a group of 3 going the opposite direction and inquired if there were any good camping spots up ahead, they said they did not know, but that I shouldn’t go too much higher as the area began to become steeper and there would be less chance to find a flat area to camp. I kept this in mind but simply could not find my spot. A few times I went off trail because I thought I saw a good area, once in fact I was all but unpacking when I noticed the immense amount of ants crawling under me. I kept climbing. Then, finally, as dusk began to set I found a beautiful spot amongst a broken down stick house. It seemed as though someone once lived here. There was the perfect camping spot. Raised with runoffs for water on every side, a small clearing gave me a view of the forest below, and I had a bit of tree cover above as well. I could not have been happier as I set my tent up and crawled into it. What a day.
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This is the seventh 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
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
Thanks for reading,
Eric
