Sabbatical - 8/13 - Warm Up Hike
On my first full day in France with the REI group, we had a tune up hike that set the pattern for all the days to follow.
First, we get up quite early and had breakfast at the hotel.
Then we gathered our hiking gear and met in the lobby. On most other days we'd also bring out luggage down to the support van, but for this first day we were coming back to the same place.
We'd pack our lunch from a quite impressive buffet of sandwich fixings, fruit, trail mix fixings and assorted other snack foods. I always made it a point to grab some French candy bars, although naturally I didn't write any of the names down.
From there we'd either start walking, or take the van to the starting point for that day.
This first hike was a tune up hike in one of the national forests hugging the valley walls outside Chamonix. This was a chance for everyone to get acclimated to the altitude. Unspoken but understood was that this was the tour guides opportunity to see what kind of shape everybody was in on a hike that had many ways to bail out early. Unfortunately, that option would end up being needed.
The hike was quite steep. We ascended the walls of the valley under a clear and nearly cloudless sky, with Mount Blanc making for quite the view on the other side of the valley. Despite our early start the temperatures quickly rose to the mid 80s, and I was soon quite thankful for the patches of shade from the trees.
As it turns out, despite my relative youthfulness relative to the group as a whole I was soon near the end of the line. This was partially because I stopped to look at the view and take pictures, but mostly because I was very slow compared to the other hikers. It didn't help that most of the other hikers had had many opportunities to train at altitude and were better acclimated than I was. Fortunately, we weren't in any particular hurry and I settled in at the end of the line, next to the guide who was serving as tail end Charlie.
Ultimately this decision not to push it to the front of the line was to cost me half a day of hiking. One of the women in the group, Karen, started having some difficulties breathing and fell toward the back of the line. The rear guide, Claire, called a quick stop to give her a chance to catch her breath. I hung back as well, assuming that she was just having some trouble with altitude. Unfortunately, Claire decided that this woman was having serious enough problems that we should turn back. The rest of the group had already moved out of sight, so Claire asked me to come back with them instead of closing the gap because of the multitude of different trails in the area and the high potential for getting confused.
The upshot is that we turned around after only two or so hours. We passed a chalet on the way down, which in this context means a small restaurant in the middle of the park that serves drinks and sandwiches. We'd see a lot more of those in the coming days, all privately operated. Karen continued to have difficulty, and just past the chalet a doctor who was hiking with her daughter checked her out before letting us continue. We met up with a cross road, and the guide and the driver took Karen off to the doctor after dropping me at the hotel.
Since the rest of the group was gone, I took a shower, tended to my aching feet and read two books from the hotel's swap pile: The Cuckoo's Calling and The Quiet American. My hike had been cut short, but the upside was that I was well rested for the next day when we'd officially start the Tour de Mount Blanc. The tour guides and the driver were very apologetic and seemed surprised that I wasn't upset about missing the rest of the hike, but even if I'd been comfortable figuring out the trails, someone had to go with Claire to make sure Karen made it down the mountain.
The rest of the group returned quite some time later, and I joined them for dinner at a local restaurant that specialized in the foods of Savoy, which is the region where Chamonix is located. I had a delicious cheese soup, and as you'd expect the wine was very, very good. After dinner I went back to the hotel, prepped my gear for the next day and went to bed. Thankfully, this was by far the hottest day of the hike. I don't think the temperature got into the 80s again, and only rarely made it into the 70s, which was much more tolerable.
Karen was ultimately diagnosed with a previously unknown heart issue of some sort despite having been fully medically cleared by her own doctor prior to the trip. She subsequently spent much of the rest of the trip riding in the van and only took shorter day hikes from there on out, usually on downhill stretches.
Photos six through eleven in this set are from August 13.
First, we get up quite early and had breakfast at the hotel.
Then we gathered our hiking gear and met in the lobby. On most other days we'd also bring out luggage down to the support van, but for this first day we were coming back to the same place.
We'd pack our lunch from a quite impressive buffet of sandwich fixings, fruit, trail mix fixings and assorted other snack foods. I always made it a point to grab some French candy bars, although naturally I didn't write any of the names down.
From there we'd either start walking, or take the van to the starting point for that day.
This first hike was a tune up hike in one of the national forests hugging the valley walls outside Chamonix. This was a chance for everyone to get acclimated to the altitude. Unspoken but understood was that this was the tour guides opportunity to see what kind of shape everybody was in on a hike that had many ways to bail out early. Unfortunately, that option would end up being needed.
The hike was quite steep. We ascended the walls of the valley under a clear and nearly cloudless sky, with Mount Blanc making for quite the view on the other side of the valley. Despite our early start the temperatures quickly rose to the mid 80s, and I was soon quite thankful for the patches of shade from the trees.
As it turns out, despite my relative youthfulness relative to the group as a whole I was soon near the end of the line. This was partially because I stopped to look at the view and take pictures, but mostly because I was very slow compared to the other hikers. It didn't help that most of the other hikers had had many opportunities to train at altitude and were better acclimated than I was. Fortunately, we weren't in any particular hurry and I settled in at the end of the line, next to the guide who was serving as tail end Charlie.
Ultimately this decision not to push it to the front of the line was to cost me half a day of hiking. One of the women in the group, Karen, started having some difficulties breathing and fell toward the back of the line. The rear guide, Claire, called a quick stop to give her a chance to catch her breath. I hung back as well, assuming that she was just having some trouble with altitude. Unfortunately, Claire decided that this woman was having serious enough problems that we should turn back. The rest of the group had already moved out of sight, so Claire asked me to come back with them instead of closing the gap because of the multitude of different trails in the area and the high potential for getting confused.
The upshot is that we turned around after only two or so hours. We passed a chalet on the way down, which in this context means a small restaurant in the middle of the park that serves drinks and sandwiches. We'd see a lot more of those in the coming days, all privately operated. Karen continued to have difficulty, and just past the chalet a doctor who was hiking with her daughter checked her out before letting us continue. We met up with a cross road, and the guide and the driver took Karen off to the doctor after dropping me at the hotel.
Since the rest of the group was gone, I took a shower, tended to my aching feet and read two books from the hotel's swap pile: The Cuckoo's Calling and The Quiet American. My hike had been cut short, but the upside was that I was well rested for the next day when we'd officially start the Tour de Mount Blanc. The tour guides and the driver were very apologetic and seemed surprised that I wasn't upset about missing the rest of the hike, but even if I'd been comfortable figuring out the trails, someone had to go with Claire to make sure Karen made it down the mountain.
The rest of the group returned quite some time later, and I joined them for dinner at a local restaurant that specialized in the foods of Savoy, which is the region where Chamonix is located. I had a delicious cheese soup, and as you'd expect the wine was very, very good. After dinner I went back to the hotel, prepped my gear for the next day and went to bed. Thankfully, this was by far the hottest day of the hike. I don't think the temperature got into the 80s again, and only rarely made it into the 70s, which was much more tolerable.
Karen was ultimately diagnosed with a previously unknown heart issue of some sort despite having been fully medically cleared by her own doctor prior to the trip. She subsequently spent much of the rest of the trip riding in the van and only took shorter day hikes from there on out, usually on downhill stretches.
Photos six through eleven in this set are from August 13.