Chamonix, France
Son gave me a wonderful Christmas present.
A night in a mountain hut in Chamonix and a hike on top of the world. I couldn't have been happier. Probably the best gift I have ever received.
Son currently lives in Chamonix, for he is a digital nomad. So he can live where he pleases. I wont say 'he is lucky', for he made it happen. All the best realised dreams come from personal endeavor. That much I do know.
The chosen hike involved a significant climb. I was worried that I wasn't fit enough. Son is not massively tolerant of slow people. He runs up and down mountains every week.
So for the last five months I have been doggedly trying to get 'mountain ready'. Following an exercise programme that seemed to involve one step back for every two steps forward I experienced different body pains after different exercises. Trying to balance progress with what my body would tolerate. Hiking up hills with a heavy rucksack on my back. Leg, arm and core exercises in the living room. I made progress, but altitude was something that I couldn't prepare for.
I did my best.
And so I arrived in Chamonix.
I nearly missed my flight due to unplanned underground delays and a 'body' on the line. My hiking poles didn't make the journey in their special tube. Hiking poles are too 'dangerous' to take on board as carry on. It was not an easy start.
But I arrived happily in the mountains. And the sun was shining.
Delicate clouds were drifting over Mont Blanc and the Glacier Bossons.
Mont Blanc and the Glacier Bossons
I had a day to myself before the big adventure.
Time to think about all the kit that I had gathered in my preparations for the hike and our night up the mountain. Sharing a room with strangers was the part that I was least looking forward to. I practised using my foam earplugs.....
For the first time in my life I had gathered together almost all of the recommended essential items for hiking in the mountains, plus a couple of luxury items that would permit me a shower if I felt the need.
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I didn't have a knife..... nor was I sure what I would use one for. Son had a knife. I had a bandage and some plasters......
We were fully equipped.
Time for a hike and a wander around town. Chamonix is a trail running mecca. While I was there it was a weekend of marathons; 90km, 42km and 23km, all involving many thousands of metres ascent and descent. The Mont-Blanc Marathon. Marathons for tough people.
The shops are full of trail running gear. To me it was a whole new world. Most appealing are the shoes..... joyfully coloured and light. No matter that they will be splattered with mud as soon as they go into action.
And then there are running vests with double water bottles that squish down as you drink, superlight clothes and anoraks, and superlight folding hiking poles. It is a world of specialised gear. One that I do not belong to. For I am just a humble hiker, with a normal, non collapsing water bottle and normal hiking poles.
I soaked it all up. And treated myself to a superlight sun hat.
trail running footwear
mountain marathon runners' kit
I practised hiking with my kit.
My hiking poles were delivered by courier by mid morning on day two so I was ready for action. I hiked on the opposite side of the valley, looking across to the location for our big hike the following day.
The remains of the winter snow were rain stained and dirty looking. Shorts and t-shirts were the order of the day. It was hot. Ice-creams were selling like hot cakes in town.
The view across the valley was spectacular.
I wondered why I was carrying so many clothes. I probably wasn't going to need my warm emergency layers.
Chamonix from Petit Balcon Sud.
And then the big day came.
After watching and cheering folk arriving back to the finish line of the 90km marathon our time had come.
Except that it didn't. One hour before we were due to ascend the mountain using the Aiguille du Midi chairlift, the lifts closed down for the day. High winds and a possible storm had arrived.
The top of the mountains disappeared into the clouds, and we had to cancel our outing. We looked up to see the Refuge du Plan de l'aiguille sitting tormentingly out of reach. So near and yet so far.
All that preparation and no way to get up the mountain to the starting point for our 'adventure'.
Refuge du plan de l'aiguille just to the left of the chairlift pylons.
And yet, strangely, it didn't matter. Not in the grand scheme of things. I really didn't mind.
Most of my enjoyment had already been had; in the anticipation and preparation.
I was in the mountains with my son. We didn't have to sleep with snoring strangers, and we were able to share a delicious cheese fondue with his friends.
And the following morning we approached the mountain by a different route, still cloud shrouded. We visited the Mer du Glace glacier with its ice caves carved out of the sea of ice.
protective sheeting against sunlight on the Mer du Glace glacier.
Having
visited the ice caves we climbed up the stony path on the hike that we
should have done, in the opposite direction, until we were immersed in
cloud. It was grey, damp, steep and rocky. Around us were wild azaleas,
pink and bright.
I never got to see the spectacular views across the valley, or to see Mont Blanc from the Aiguille du Midi.
But that is the nature of adventures. We cannot outsmart the weather, and not all goals are achievable. I tried to imagine the disappointment of going to Everest and not making the summit. Statistics tell me that of those who travelled to Everest Base camp in recent years about two thirds reached the summit. Which means that one in three people do not achieve their goal. I was surprised to discover that women are more likely to succeed.
Between 2006 and 2019 0.5% of women and 1.1% of men died during the Everest summit ascent/descent. It is a risky business.
Obviously my adventure was seriously tame in the grand scheme of things. The weather won on this occasion, but I am still alive, and the mountain will still be there on my next visit. I can try again.
Meanwhile son will continue to set himself big challenges, and I will continue to be happy to set myself smaller ones.
Having goals and setting oneself challenges is one of the keys to happiness. as discussed in the very last interview on BBC Sounds by Michael Moseley with psychologist Paul Bloom on 'How to Live a Good Life'. I absolutely agree; I have had so much pleasure preparing for this mini adventure. It is the journey, not the destination that matters.
And now I am busy thinking about what my next challenge will be, and looking forward to a week's hiking in Spain later this year.
I never got to see the spectacular views across the valley, or to see Mont Blanc from the Aiguille du Midi.
But that is the nature of adventures. We cannot outsmart the weather, and not all goals are achievable. I tried to imagine the disappointment of going to Everest and not making the summit. Statistics tell me that of those who travelled to Everest Base camp in recent years about two thirds reached the summit. Which means that one in three people do not achieve their goal. I was surprised to discover that women are more likely to succeed.
Between 2006 and 2019 0.5% of women and 1.1% of men died during the Everest summit ascent/descent. It is a risky business.
Obviously my adventure was seriously tame in the grand scheme of things. The weather won on this occasion, but I am still alive, and the mountain will still be there on my next visit. I can try again.
Meanwhile son will continue to set himself big challenges, and I will continue to be happy to set myself smaller ones.
Having goals and setting oneself challenges is one of the keys to happiness. as discussed in the very last interview on BBC Sounds by Michael Moseley with psychologist Paul Bloom on 'How to Live a Good Life'. I absolutely agree; I have had so much pleasure preparing for this mini adventure. It is the journey, not the destination that matters.
And now I am busy thinking about what my next challenge will be, and looking forward to a week's hiking in Spain later this year.
