When the mountain calls; running the Tour du Mont Blanc Part 5
- Andy Hood
- Oct 24, 2023
- 8 min read
26 October 2023 | Race Reports
Day four promised to be another hot one, the morning air fresh, the temperate already warm. Despite the slight bump in the road that was Courmayeur my first 3 days had been more than I’d imagined it could be. Today, my 4th on the tour, would turn out to be another day of wonderful experiences. I would however make a decision today that could have derailed the run.
Writing this I am reminded of a meeting with a group of American hikers, I can’t recall exactly where but we were negotiating some large boulders, they up and me down. I was moving pretty quickly as the group passed and we exchanged the usual smiles and hellos. Toward the end of their group a lady stopped and asked me if I was running the whole way and we chatted for a moment. She asked why I was doing the tour, and I recalled my cancer story – this was met with about 20 very loud cheers, well dones all round and lots of celebration. Every interaction I had on the tour was positive, the trail elevates everyone to a friendly, caring, and considerate place.
Today would see me back in France and the opportunity no doubt to stand with one leg in Italy and the other in France, as I’d done on Col Ferret with one in Switzerland the other Italy. Crossing a border was fun and a sense of achievement came with it. I also felt naughty as I was dipping in and out of countries without being grilled by anyone at passport control.
My route mapping app said I was off to the famous Col de la Seigne today, this marks the crossing between Italy and France. Evidently there were more climbs to negotiate, I chatted with my legs, they reported all was good and we should make tracks.
What lay ahead, and unknown to me as the day started, was the best dinner on the whole tour, anything would have been an improvement over the night before but this as I would find out was to be a real treat.
I remember early in the day, before 9am, coming across a mountain cabin, I think it was Rigugio Elisabetta, the building, stone in construction as most are in the mountains, was immediately in front of a stunning glacier. The glacier taking a commanding position in the landscape and upon reflection now I wish I’d taken the trail up to it so I could touch one on my travels. This was one of the few regrets I’d have on the tour and next time round, as I will do this again, I will take these opportunities every time. Sometimes the moment was just not quite right, I was on good form and running well, deviating from my path didn’t seem right. I thought I’d come across these opportunities again but didn’t.
I’ll read to you the actual wording from today’s route in the mapping app, writing this I know I will have to brush up on my pronunciation as and when I record this race report.
From La Visaille, climb to the Col de la Seigne forming the border between Italy and France and descent to the Ville des Glaciers. Ascent to the Col des Fours and Col du Bonhomme before going down in the Val Montjoie and the Contamines village.
Today sounded great with climbs which will always give great views. A quick look at Strava now shows me I climbed over 6600ft today, my legs were still feeling strong and much of this I put down to not just the run training, but the strength work I started last year with my PT Steve, deadlifts, kettlebell lunges, Bulgarian split squats and many other combinations I’m sure he makes up as we go along, were all giving the legs a power akin to the electric motor in a hybrid. I’d reach a height of around 9000ft today and the day would present vastly different terrain from extremely remote, wild looking rugged mountains where I was near vertical at times, through to beautiful, lush green valleys.
Strava has a 3D function, combine that with a satellite map and you get a stark reminder of the challenges faced and the terrain covered. Looking back never fails to bring a smile, to remind me of forgotten moments, reinforcing that running in the mountains felt like home.
The trail up to Col de la Seigne was busy at times with mountain bikers, a popular day ride with the reward of an amazing view and mile upon mile of fast downhill on the way back to home. Most I noticed were electric bikes, not surprising when you look at the roughness of the trail and the steepness of some sections. I kept leapfrogging a father and son who were having trouble with the chain on one of their bikes, they’d pass me only for me to pass them a few minutes later as they battled with a jumping chain. And a gentleman who despite the assistance of the motor had resorted to pushing the bike up the steeper parts, we chatted in broken English each time we passed one another.
I remember being deeply happy that morning, my days were filled with new sights, interactions, and the joy of running. It was so far removed from my daily life where the large majority of my week is spent working, usually inside, computer inches in front of me. I’d never liked routine and not been a fan of being hemmed up in a building. Getting in a car, driving to an office, working all day, driving home felt like I was more of a sheep being herded around rather than living a life of exploration and adventure.
I guess most of us can feel like this at times, but today it felt more powerful. I’d turned 50 this year and had many reflective moments wondering if I am headed in the right direction or if there is a new path I should be forging.
Has the act of running made me happy? It’s certainly served up some moments of unhappiness, what runner doesn’t experience foot, leg or knee pain or succumb to injury, these are frustrating times. In contrast it has made me fitter, lowered my resting heart rate and given me a physique I am not averse to looking at in the mirror after the morning shower. Running on the trails around Mont-Blanc did undoubtably make me happy, giving me time and opportunity to appreciate so much of the world around me that I unconsciously filter out.
Gentle waving leaves of acre upon acre of blueberry bushes, birds soring high above snow-capped mountain peaks, the voice of the wind as it accelerates over the mountain tumbling down the other side, even the suns warming rays had a gentle reassuring voice. And internally I was aware of each breath I took and each beat of my heart. The million tiny sights, sounds and smells our minds block out as we focus on the big parts of our day, the stresses of travelling, work or pushing along the path where we believe happiness lies, a path littered with material belongings, the newest phone or TV, bigger and bigger houses and larger more expensive cars. I’d heard the phrase ‘be present in the moment’ many times over the last few years but it wasn’t until this moment I truly understood what that meant, to be present.
Col de la Seigne was busy with hikers stopping to refuel or admire the view. I found myself not stopping for long, being around that many people was not the experience I was looking for. I did stop for a few minutes watching the smiles and waving of Italian and French flags as people stood with one leg in Italy and the other in France as this marked the border. There was, for want of a better term, a washing line with fluttering flags of many nations. I made a space on the line, hung the orange tea towel over it and took a photo to send on to my family. The tea towel travels with me on all my adventures, it was found when clearing the house of my wife’s 103 year old grandmother after she passed. I now take it on adventures and photograph it as way to preserve her memory and to keep her travelling.
Tightening the laces of my Speedgoats I was ready for the downhill to La Ville des Glaciers. A very rocky, technical trail. Take a moment to look on Google Maps for La Ville des Glaciers to get an appreciation of just how remote a place this is.
La Ville des Glaciers was a spot where the day hiker could park up and enjoy a hike to Col de la Seigne, including by the looks of it many who arrived on a large coach. Unlike similar spots in the UK there were thankfully no candy floss stalls or sticks of bright pink rock with Col de la Seigne running through it. A stone built toilet block, rural French farm complete with farmer chatting about his chickens to some hikers and a rusty Renault 5 just visible under the years of growth that it had succumb to was the joyous sum total to this remote area. I stopped to check my water levels, thought I was ok with the distance ahead to cover and promptly started the next climb.
The trail rose at a reasonable rate, becoming wilder and wilder. Shortly after I’d left the farm, partly up the climb I realised my water levels were lower than was wise for the wild and barren nature of the trail ahead. I was too far up from the small farm to head back down and at this point I made a decision that could have derailed by run. I filled a bottle from a mountain stream. This can be unwise as you never know what is in the water, animal urine of faeces, chemicals used in farming or bugs and parasites. I was at quite an altitude and decided the risk was low, this was likely just snow melt from higher elevation. I took the risk, am pleased to report no ill effects and the water was among some of the best I have ever tasted.
The rest of the day would take me to Les Contamines, across bolder fields with herds of sheep, a stop at Refuge de la Balme for two of the largest homemade cookies I’d ever seen and finally a descent down a hard packed stone rutted lane that was hard to run on. I made my way along small country roads to the overnight stop of La Gelinotte, a historic looking wooden building which was far far greater than it’s awarded 2 stars. My room was lovely with a comfortable double bed, shower that admitably had seen better days and required you to stand an impossible angle to get the water. The window in the room opened overlooking beautiful gardens and green ski slopes beyond.
Dinner was fantastic. A mother and son team served up some of the best duck I had ever tasted followed by a profiterole dessert; two football sized profiteroles smothered in a rich chocolate sauce. I slept well that night.
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