My ears perked up.
“…And coming up after the break: travel tips from Matt Lauer,” came the voice from the TV.
“Oh this could be good,” I thought.
It’s been a bit of a while now, but here’s what I remember of Matt Lauer’s travel tips.
1. If you think you’ll get hungry, pack a sandwich. This will save you a few dollars at the airport.
2. Buy 3 ounce bottles for your liquid toiletries and use your big shampoo bottle at home to refill when necessary.
3. Check in online before your flight so you can avoid a long line at the check-in counter.
And so on. Matt Lauer’s travel tips were basically a list of obvious, common sense tasks. One item that didn’t make his list but very well could have is this gem: Don’t go hiking in the Alps in your running shoes when there’s still snow on the trails.
I recently learned that one the hard way.
I met up with Guillaume, my French hiking partner extraordinaire who I traveled with for 3 months in New Zealand. I had mentioned I might be coming to France in June and wanted to hike, he responded with an invitation to the Alps as he wanted to scout out the trails he’d be running in a 104 kilometer race come August (not a typo, he’s actually doing a 104 kilometer race).
As was the case with our New Zealand hikes, we completely lucked out with the weather. We had sunshine and clear skies the entire time and missed the rains which had been omnipresent the days prior.
Before we even set out on our first morning, I was gobsmacked by the views of Mont Blanc and the surrounding Alps.
Shortly after we set out on our first morning, my legs were pretty gobsmacked, too. In the 6 months since leaving New Zealand, I’ve mostly been in cities and not terribly active. That’ll happen when you catch the flu which turns into a 6 week cold and then spend a month standing by the side of the road to watch cycling. I hushed the voices in my head that screamed, “What were you thinking?!” and concentrated on finding my rhythm. It was to my great surprise and relief when I finally looked at my watch and saw that we’d been going for a couple of hours and gaining some noteworthy elevation without breaking and while maintaining a solid pace.
I tend to hike fast–it’s just my natural pace–but I’m no match for Guillaume’s speed so my view is often of the back of him.
We paused briefly at the French-Swiss border for photos before carrying on into Switzerland. It was beautiful but there was a cold wind encouraging us to keep moving.
Note that the snow followed the border, too, sticking to the Swiss side.
Remember how I mentioned I was hiking in my running shoes? A few days before the hike, Guillaume and I had an email exchange that went something like this:
Guillaume: You have boots?
Me: Nope.
Guillaume: No, seriously. You have boots?
Me: Nope, seriously, I don’t have my boots here. Why?
Guillaume: There is a lot of snow.
Me: Is it dangerous if I’m in my running shoes?
Guillaume: Yes (wink emoticon)
Me: No, seriously, is it dangerous?
Guillaume: I don’t think so. No?
To Guillaume’s credit, he did borrow a pair of boots from a friend for me but after much deliberation, I opted for my shoes rather than risk spending 3 days hiking mountains with blisters.
It was smooth sailing until we made our way to a lookout called Croix de Fer. Much of the trail was hidden under several inches of snow. Guillaume went first and I was to follow in his footsteps. On 2 occasions, I spontaneously decided to explore the terrain with my backside (I have a bit of an on-again-off-again relationship with gravity) so Guillaume handed me his trekking poles and that was a tremendous help.
Leaving Croix de Fer, we hit something of a serious road block. The entire side of the mountain was covered in snow and on a very steep section, too. Handing me his poles, Guillaume told me to be careful. “Because if you fall here…” and then he made a gesture with his hand that started off like an airplane taxiing to pick up speed and then suddenly his gesture morphed into that of a plane nosediving and crashing. He added some explosion sounds for good measure.
We made it, just fine.
Descending into the village of Trient, we met a noisy herd of cows. I’ve seen cyclists win huge cowbells in races before but only when I heard half a dozen of them chiming away did I appreciate their magnitude.
From Trient, it was a short climb of a couple of hundred meters up to our stopping point for the day: Col de la Forclaz. At the summit was a convenience store and a hotel.
Since the huts don’t officially open for the season until the middle of the month, we had no alternative but to splurge on the hotel which, happily, included our dinner and breakfast. Normally when I hike the day ends with either a long drive or setting up a tent and then helping to make dinner, so it felt like a huge luxury to take a hot shower, spend 30 minutes stretching and doing yoga in the sun, and then eat a meal that I didn’t have to help with! The icing on the cake was the extra large bunk beds.
Hike details
Start elevation: 1,252 meters at Argentière, France
Finish elevation: 1,527 meters at Col de la Forclaz, Switzerland
Highest point: 2,201 meters at Aiguillette des Posettes, France
Lowest point: 1,231 meters at Trient, Switzerland
Hike time: approximately 7 hours