□ Placeholder: 08 — A hike that did happen
Hello from 2,352 m above surface.
It’s 9 PM now and I am holing up in a mountain refuge nearby Lac Blanc with 3-4 other walkers. But I am not supposed to be here. Let me explain.
When I arrived in Chamonix — a small French town at the base of Mont Blanc — this morning, I had a few short hikes in mind for the next couple of days. Lac Blanc and the La Jonction were two of them. Lac Blanc is a a glacier lake that sits high above the valley, directly across the Mont Blanc Massif. La Jonction is a spectacular ridge between two huge glaciers that flow from Mont Blanc. In my fair amount of research, I had found these two be slightly more approachable than other hikes in the area aka to be done as one day hike. For our first “short hike” we picked Lac Blanc.
After a quick lunch in the city centre — around 1PM — we started our ascend. Conveniently the trailhead wasn’t too far from the city centre. During the day, the weather seemed to be on our side, but luck wasn’t. Almost all major ski stations were closed till December. This meant walking all the way up and down. No shortcuts possible with the gondolas. Google Map showed the walking distance to be little more than 10 km. According to the app, it wouldn’t take more than 3 hrs to walk each side. 3 hrs of walk didn’t seem like a big deal. Weather forecast showed twilight till 8 PM so we could easily spend an hour so by the lake and be back in light.
Keeping all this in mind we started the descend. Things seemed going according to the plan for the first hour and then after that they weren't. What we didn’t keep in mind — or at least didn’t understand — was 1,305 m ascent (and descend) involved in each side of the walk. Chamonix sits at 1,305 m. Lac Blanc was 2,352 m. We had to gain (and loose) 1,317 m in altitude.
With every passing minute the walked seemed more challenging than before.
Two hours into the walk, we started looking in bad shape. We were not even close to half of the way up. My friend decided to return and I was left alone with about 200 ml of water and a few energy bars.
After three hours, I still had about 600 m of ascend left ahead of me. Each step seemed like a strenuous effortful action. Around the same time, I saw many walkers descending the same path. I asked one of them, how far was Lac Blanc. In thick French ascent one of them replied: “Well, about 2 hours... IF you walk fast.” It was a big “if.” I was running out of breath every 50m or so and I had already run out of water.
A snail would have beat me if there was a crawling competition. On top of all these unfavourable conditions I had not only to make it to Lac Blanc but also return latest by twilight — 8 PM — if I cared for my life.
All of my little tricks that I employed in the long walks like this had ceased to work. i.e., counting steps till 100 and making a 10 sec break; Humming 90s Bollywood song in my head; Focusing on the sound of my footsteps in all its entirety.
The only trick that still seemed to work was imagining what I would do once I got to the top. I kept imagining how I would offload the backpack near the lake, refill water (from the lake) and eat a bar of Snickers sitting by the lake.
I walked and walked a bit more, trying to put one foot ahead of another. I was now 30 mins away and was able to hear my thumping heartbeats. Not with excitement but because of physical pressure. There was no breathing creature as far as I could see. It was scary and soothing to hear my heart do the thing that was necessary to keep me alive and walking. The watch showed the heart rate in the “extreme aerobics” range. I kept reaching for my empty water bottle only to be reminded that the water had lasted hours ago.
In my head I was rehearsing the worst case scenario — I might have to walk an hour or so in the pitch black. And the walk was anything but dangerous. Strenuous? Sure. But not life threatening. I thought of using the flashlight as my guiding anchor. It all made sense in my desperateness to see Lac Blanc.
In those final 30 mins I had lost the sense of clarity. I couldn’t quite tell WHY was I doing that in the first place? Why choose voluntarily suffering over the affordable luxury — sitting down in a cafe and indulging in cup of hot coffee and a box of macrons? WHY make yourself suffer in such desperation?
The map showed 9 more minutes and it felt ecstatics to see the estimate in a single digit for once and first.
As I crossed the final hill and looked up, I saw not one but two blue water lakes nestled directly across from the Mont Blanc Massif. Weather was sunny and clear so the peaks and it’s reflection in the lake was surreal. I tried to run to the lake but couldn’t. I paced around the lakes as fast as I could. The terrain was mostly flat — quite a luxury after climbing for so long. Looking at the views that this lake offered made it look all worth it. And then it also made sense. And I thought... this is WHY.
I didn’t offload my backpack as I had originally imagined. Instead, I noticed a mountain refuge on a side of the lake. I went inside and found a counter. I fumbled that sounded something like: “Bonjour! Can I get something to eat and drink please?” I don’t know what the reply was. I went outside and sat in one of the chairs placed. The relief. Limbs still intact. Heart still pounding but this time filled with joy of having made it. A few moments later, the lady offered me a crêpe and a bottle of water. I handed her a €10 bill and gulped down a litre of water just like that. I checked the watch and see 6:30 PM. That’s no good, I thought.
It’s only been a few minutes until I had arrived and I was still pouring the tranquillity of the surroundings directly into my eyeballs. Now it was time to get moving and then something happened.
I decided to break my introvert shell and initiated a conversation with a fellow walker. I asked him what his plans were for the day. He said he’s going to stay there for the night. I assumed he would be pitching a tent somewhere. Before leaving for once and all, I went inside the refuge to the same counter to thank the lady for the tastiest water I’ve had in my life. I thanked her and said it must be nice to live here soaking in the views day in and day out. And she responds: “You can do that too!” WHAT!
She said I can stay for the night if I want, have dinner and breakfast the next morning. This would cost me €55. It seemed like she was kidding. What luck! But apparently she wasn’t. Walkers stay in the little dorm for the night. I checked my purse and had €40 remaining (of course they didn’t accept cards because no electricity, duh!). For that amount she agreed to allowed me to stay for the night and also have dinner. She showed me the dorm where backpacks and shoes weren’t allowed. I had to get slippers from her and store my backpack in the basement. I found a bed where nobody’s stuff was on it. And kept my precious water bottle on it. Apparently that’s how you mark your territory in the mountain refuges of Italy, France and Switzerland.
I settled in my bed and thanked the luck lords. What did I do to deserve this? Oh right! I walked for 5 hours! I must have been delusional to think that I could still walk for 3-4 more hours on the way back. And the worst, I was this close to doing it.
At 7, a 3- course dinner — nay, a 3-course, hot and delicious dinner — was served in the the common area. Briefly a few of us talked for a while and retired to their beds. I decided to stay a bit longer and now I am writing this story in the same empty common area, in a candlelight. It’s not romantic but rather serene. The silence of nothingness is soothing. I don’t remember the last time I heard my thoughts and the click-clack of my keyboards in tandem so clear. The silhouettes of the mountain peaks can still be traced through the windows in this dim moonlight. It’s quite warm inside but the outside temperature must be around 2-3°C. There’s no way to check, and I won’t bother.
So that’s the story of how I ended up where I wasn’t supposed to be in the first place.
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Next Day
I woke up at 6 by the sound of nothing. Freshened up and took another walk around the lake. The water seemed stiller than the evening before which made the reflection of Mont Blanc Massif even more prominent.
I will be walking for the next 3-4 hours before I come across the civilisation. I didn’t wait for the sunrise because that would’ve meant walking in strong sunlight. On my way down, I did see the sun rising behind the peaks in the usual, glorious fashion.
While walking on the exact same trails, but this time in the opposite direction, filled my heart with a sense of accomplishment. It kept reminding me: this is why we put through what we put through. To feel. To feel the joy of having done something. But more importantly, to feel.
Last night, even though I wasn’t supposed to be there, I felt like I belonged there.
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I realise it was a bit of too much (1,800 words!) of narcissistic hodgepodge. But I thought I had to get this out of my system before I forgot any of the details and what better place to share my own little story (mostly involving me) with people I know. In any case, any and all feedback is more than welcome. And with that I leave you with few postcards from the trail:
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Until next time,
K