Temperatures continue to drop, traffic's becoming less and less and the cloud blanket in the valley feels like it's here to stay. Plenty of free tables in Chambre Neuf, Le Pub opening up later, Choucas closed, Cham Sud a ghost town. Flégère's shut, riding Le Tour feels like a distant memory and the Bellevue closes Sunday (26/9). It's almost October - Cham is quiet. People are downloading trailers for ski movies and re-reading trip reports and season diaries from last year. There's a nice feeling of expectation in the air as things begin to line up for winter.
Chamonix Activity Report: 26th September 2008
One of the things that I love about this place is that it never really stops. Sure, it's quiet in Chamonix now, but I'm positive that the Tarantaise or Three Valleys resort towns are more or less deserted, left to the cats & the rats before the seasonal November influx of low-landers with their high hopes.
It's easy to plant yourself in front of the DVD player about this time, begging much-viewed box-sets of Prison Break or Lost or 24 from long-suffering mates. Or playing Xbox Live until your eyes hurt. However, just because most of the lifts are shut doesn't mean there's nothing to do any more. The mountains are still up there; they're just quieter. A lot quieter, as we found out on a walk from Argentière to Lognan the other day.
We went up the Trapette couloir, which rises from behind Les Chosalets, and up the 47 switchbacks to Plan Joran. The climb took an hour and a half, and we were passed only by a pair of Spanish trail runners. Once at Plan Joran, we headed over to Lognan, the stark modern chrome and light wood of the midstation contrasting against the weathered midmountain moonscape around it, shutters down and devoid of humanity. We climbed up another few hundred metres towards the Point de Vue, from which you have an incredible panorama over the seracs of the Argentière glacier. It was here that we stopped for a picnic, watching the occasional serac crashing down onto the rock below us, hearing the whistling of the marmots in the air and gatching fleeting glimpses of the fat beaver-type animals scampering around the rocks. We didn't see a soul.
To get down, we headed over to the Lognan refuge and descended from there. The singletrack to the Pierre A Ric was beautiful - well worth a bike ride one day - but once we got onto the the Pierre A Ric itself we quickly regretted not going down the way we had come up. Walking down a rocky slope is rarely fun and never interesting - your eyes are glued to the ground in front of you, looking out for the next rock that's ready to slip out underneath you and break your ankle. You can't enjoy the views, it's murder on your knees and your toes are scrunched up and biting at the front of your boot. Thankfully, we reached Argentière without incident - six hours later, 1200m of vertical ascent and descent, legs burning, and smiling from cheek to cheek.
As we got back to central Chamonix, we had that glazed expression that I love seeing on people's faces here. The three-mile, focus-free, gaze-at-nothing look with the tell-tale small smile. The same expression that you see on mountaineers, mountain bikers, climbers, kayakers, snowboarders and trail runners in Chamonix all the time; that proud and slightly dumbfounded expression of just having made real the unthinkable. Look out for that expression next time you're around town, and I hope you get it on your own face soon.
Until next week!
