This is Part 2 of Will’s three part account of this incredible day’s walk. Part 1 here.
The donkey and I were at an altitude of about 1460m. The rocky path climbed steeply as it re-entered the trees. Another 700m along the track brought me out into the next open valley. In the distance, the horizon was dominated by the Aiguilles de la Pennaz.
The Col du Bonhomme was still hiding coyly behind the Aiguilles’ left shoulder – or right shoulder if they were looking at me. It looked grey and rocky up there, 900m above me, but the valley was beautiful and the going was gentler. The locals have grazing rights when the snow melts. This ancient practice is called ‘transhumance’ in France, and animals are still driven up into the high valleys in spring to enjoy the rich alpine pasture that follows the snow melt. The electric fence on my left was new but the tradition was old.
I should have noted the green knoll and tiny buildings above the first tree-line up the valley when I took that picture, but I was enjoying the best going of the day. The rise was modest, my pace increased, and I almost felt as though I’d found some rhythm.
The small buildings of la Rollaz passed quickly on my left; I passed 1600m, and the inevitable happened: the path re-entered the forest and arrowed upwards towards the next hanging valley. The path and I were aiming for that green knoll, but all I could think about was slogging on.
After the trees there was some steep rocky going. The brooding rock started to blot out the far skyline. The vapour trails overhead seemed in another world.
Having slowed again, I emerged onto that green knoll. Called la Balme, it is surely one of the most beautiful spots in the valley. To turn and look back and down over the way you’ve come is one of the great pleasures of walking in the mountains.
La Balme is the location of the Refuge de le Balme. The signs told me I was at 1706m. Perhaps the col was getting a little closer after all.
I was also now well into the Réserve Naturelle Contamines-Montjoie. This Nature Reserve is the highest in France and was declared in 1979. It extends in elevation from Bon Nant at 1100m to the summit of l’Aiguille de Tré-la-Tête at over 3800m. There are lots of aiguilles (needles) in the Mont Blanc massif. The reserve was created to show and conserve every aspect of nature in the mountains. Regardless of the climbing, I felt privileged to be walking through such a place and on such a day.
I’d covered 8km. David and Muz were still somewhere behind – they were certainly giving me a good start. I took a quick break, but the thought of the taxi at Les Chapieux weighed heavily, so I moved on.
The way became a steep, rocky track and the Aiguilles de la Pennaz towered overhead. So did a massive set of power lines, incongruous in this beautiful place.
We were walking up lateral moraines, left behind by glaciers long ago and now green and lush. Passing an electricity pylon, the valley opened up again, well above the tree-line. With the now-familiar easing of the gradient, I had time to appreciate the good condition of some busily feeding sheep behind temporary fencing at the edge of the track.
Inevitably, the track steepened again. I was well above 1800m now. After the Chalets de Joyet on the left, the high valley would open out into the Plan des Dames. At about 2000m I could expect to see a conical pile of rocks several metres high on the left. It’s said to contain the bodies of two Englishwomen who died in a storm.
The treeless ground tumbled about in unusual shapes. I was walking up alluvial fans and old moraines, covered in grass and mounded in strange shapes. Streams tumbled out of the ground cover and alpine flowers gave delicate splashes of colour: hard to appreciate when short of breath, as they sparkled in the sun.
I stopped at a small footbridge over Le Bon Nant, on the 1900m contour line. The Englishwomen’s grave was ahead, up a steepening spur. My feet weren’t sore, my knees didn’t hurt, I had no particular muscle aches, but the continual stepping upward was getting harder.
As usual, the view back down the valley was astonishing. I was drinking it in while muttering to myself about getting going again, when Muz and David turned up. After some complimentary words about how well I was walking and how it had taken them ‘forever’ to catch me, Christina and Brian appeared as well. It was immediately decided that we should stop for lunch on the next green knoll, before the final, steep 300m climb to the Col du Bonhomme.
I was so relieved at having a reason to stop for more than a couple of minutes that I forgot to pay my respects at the Englishwomen’s grave as I passed.
To be continued.
This story is part of our Walking, Hiking and Meaningful Routes series. Read more here.
William Monfries worked at the Federal level in education and training, corporate development and strategic planning. ‘Bill’ during his career, he has put that behind him and is a happy Will. He enjoys walking, cycling, both kinds of skiing, sailing and travelling with Marilyn, as well as reading and music.
[…] This is Part 1 of Will’s three part account of this incredible day’s walk. Part 2 is here. […]
Will, you are 2/3 of the way to a screen play. Can I suggest some plot twists. Will, the romantic lead, finally reunites with the Parisian heiress who stole his heart. Or, Will, the action hero, reaches his destination and completes his covert mission against Russian hakkers.