Glaciers, lakes and waterfalls
It was another early start on day two of my Chamonix Trails Adventure. After another covert exit from the dorm and hefty breakfast, I left as the sun was rising over Mont Blanc. A pink halo of cloud crowned the summit against a startlingly blue sky. It was going to be a beautiful day.
This time I was heading to the other side of the valley to visit the Glace de Mer and run the Grand Balcon Nord up to Aiguille du Midi and Lac Bleu. I crossed town and headed to the bottom of Les Planards ski run. It struck me that this was one of the slopes that my friend and I had tried to snowboard down in 1995. I remembered the struggle to get on a button lift while standing sideways, getting stuck in a snowdrift and having to dig out my board, and crashing into skiers waiting in the queue for the chair lift.
This time there was no snow, just green grass. A narrow trail headed up the left hand side of the slope and the chair lifts swung weakly from the stationary cables like the last autumn leaves preparing to drop. Up, up, up the path climbed through dense pine forest. Iridescent larches with gilded leaves shimmered in the breeze. Birches and maples countered with glowing oranges and succulent reds. Autumn on the slopes is breath-taking and it was only just beginning.
Along the path I spotted clusters of large mauve daisies. These are Alpine Asters. Golden yellow buttercups sprung up and the occasional deep purple of the Gentiane. With the warm sun now rising it felt like spring despite the autumnal colours.
Patches of moss, like giant cushions covered decaying tree trunks, their sporophytes sticking out like alien antennas. Mushrooms were everywhere, from latte brown Chanterelles to creamy white cups and more red and white Fly Agaric. Eventually I climbed out of the woodland and onto hard, barren rock. The smooth, rounded surfaces worn down by ice and snow.
La Refuge du Montenvers is nestled on a ridge above a great chasm with views of the waterfalls Torrent de Bayer and Torrent des Drus descending the opposite side of the valley. This is the location of La Mer de Glace (Sea of ice) glacier. A hands and feet climb through gigantic boulders piled upon one another led me up the narrow paths clinging to the edge of the valley slope to a viewing platform.
The rock sides of the valley are a stripped grey showing where the glacier once used to stretch. It has shrunk significantly over the last 120 years or so, with a particularly noticeable reduction in the past two decades. It remains the largest glacier in France, and second largest in the Alps, but has reduced by a third since 1900 - the equivalent of half a million Olympic swimming pools of ice. It is still an impressive sight however, as its silvery tongue extends down from the mountain peaks. The early morning sun lighting it up and dazzling the eyes.
A short detour brought me up another steep ascent to La Signal Forbes with dramatic views over the glacier and Chamonix valley. This point is named after the Scottish Dr. Forbes, who discovered many principles of glacial movement by placing rocks on the glacier and measuring them from there. At 2200m it was tough going coping with the altitude, but I would stop from time to time to take photos and snack on fig rolls to keep me going.
The Grand Balcon Nord trail stretched out ahead of me and involved miles of wonderful trail running as I was able to open my legs up and speed along the stony paths on the flat. I passed many hikers here all with a smile, a wave and a friendly greeting. A few trail runners also passed by heading for the glacier. It was good to see people from the same tribe again.
I arrived at Refuge du plan de l'aguille and climbed up to plan de l'aguille cable car station which was thronged with day trippers. It felt strange after being alone for so long. I followed some of them further up the mountain to Lac Bleu. This small lake is a beautiful oasis. The glacial water is coloured a light blue by the algae and glacial clays. Set amid a tumble of granite boulders it reflects the mighty Mont Blanc on its still waters.
It was all downhill from there, but only in terms of the gradient. I was again able to run, at times skidding on the loose stones and leaping over tree routes as I zig zagged down towards Chamonix. The sound of water rushing through the rocks caught my ear and I was soon able to view the impressive Torrent du Dard waterfall as it cascaded almost a mile, from one pool to another, carving its way from the mountain peak to the River Arve.
Once the descent was complete I made my way back into the town and returned to the Lodge for a well deserved coffee. My trail runs were complete and, apart from twisting my ankle a few times, I had emerged unscathed. Spent, but happy. I had an appetite for more, but for now it was time for recovery and rest.
Unfortunately, there wasn't much relaxing to be done on the flight home when we encountered major turbulence and an aborted landing. People were reduced to tears and a paramedic was called for one passenger. Needless to say this cast a cloud over the weekend, yet it also reminded me of the unpredictability of life.
I'm sure we were never in real danger, but during such scary moments you can't help thinking that this might be your time. The thoughts that passed through my mind as I gripped the arm rests and our row all linked arms in support of one another, were of thankfulness for my life, for my family, for the weekend just gone. I was sad for those I would leave behind and all that I would miss. But I never for one moment felt I should have taken the safe option, or should in the future. The question what if I had stayed at home and not been on that flight? never came into my head. Living life this way would not be living.
It left me feeling that life is short and we never know how long we have here. All the better to make the most of every day. This may be planning a bucket list trip to Chamonix to run for a weekend, but it may also mean just being present with those you love, rather than on the phone, telling them how you feel, and recognising each moment as a gift.
This trip wasn't about the trails, epiphanies or even running. It was about gratitude for, and the appreciation of life's fragility and beauty.
