A leisurely lunch of gnocchi with blue cheese and pears washed down with a crisp white wine at the Chalet Val Ferret isn’t on the itinerary for the grizzled ultrarunners tackling the iconic of the best hill training workouts for runners. They’re missing out, because it’s quite possibly the best thing I’ve ever tasted.
I don’t want to do the chef a disservice but the flavours have undoubtedly been enhanced not only by the setting on the sun-drenched terrace with its sweeping views of the Mont Blanc Massif, but by the preceding hours of what our guide Stian Hagen confidently – and in my case, accurately – predicted would be the best trail running of our lives.
For runners tackling the infamously brutal UTMB, our lunch spot lies just past the 100km mark and they’ll pass it before climbing to the checkpoint of Arnuva/Arnouvaz just above us, where the menu centres around NAAK sports fuel rather than freshly made gnocchi. Many will be desperately chasing the checkpoint’s 6.15pm Saturday afternoon cut-off time with some 24 hours and 6000m elevation in their legs since their Friday afternoon start in Chamonix, and the prospect of a further 76km and another night on the mountains ahead. I don’t envy them. For our group of less extreme adventurers, the spot marks the end of our first day’s running on the Arc’teryx Alpine Academy’s Best of Tour du Mont Blanc trail running clinic. We’ve covered around nine miles with just shy of 1000m of ascent, and at this moment I can’t imagine anything could be better.
From the warm smiles and easy chat around the table you’d think we were old friends, but the group only met for the first time yesterday at our pre-clinic briefing in Chamonix’s Parc Couttet. The ‘Alpine Village’ set up in the Parc by Arc’teryx as the base for their Alpine Academy was buzzing with activity in Thursday’s late afternoon sunshine, the town’s mayor officially kicking off the long-weekend event, a tanned and sinewy crowd in performance outdoor wear checking out the action on the main stage, the stands offering Arc'teryx products for demo testing and the ‘ReBIRD’ upcycling workshops. The event is in its 13th year, set up by the Canadian outdoor brand with the lofty ambition of providing ’Alpine education, community, and a transformational experience immersed in mountain culture’. To that end the programme includes film premieres, concerts and athlete talks, but at its core are 80 clinics, covering a spectrum of mountain pursuits including trail running, trekking, mountaineering, climbing and photography, all led by experienced expert mountain guides and joined by sponsored athletes from the Arc’teryx stable, there to share their knowledge.
Our lead guide, Stian Hagen, is something of a Chamonix legend. He arrived as a ‘ski bum’ from his native Norway three decades ago and never left. The first foreigner to qualify as a mountain guide here, he has a deep knowledge of the area, the trails and mountain craft generally. He runs through our mandatory kit list, housekeeping and the route alterations he’s been compelled to make by the current on-mountain conditions and predicted weather. Our athlete, ultrarunner and 12th place UTMB finisher Martin Kern, will join us tomorrow. The rest of group has a roughly even gender mix and an international feel with Dutch, German, French, Canadian and Swiss represented. Ages span from late teen up to my 50ish years. There are some friendly intros, then we melt away through Chamonix’s early evening buzz to bank our respective early nights.
When early nights become early morning we regroup in the post-dawn chill. Incrementally deepening hues of blue above promise the sun is rising behind the mountains; the scent of coffee and anticipation hang in the clear mountain air.
We shuffle onto our minibus and wind up and out of Chamonix, then through the Mont Blanc tunnel to Courmayeur on the Italian side of the mountain. Bags are dropped, flasks filled, layers peeled and sunscreen slathered, then we begin jogging through the postcard streets of Courmayeur’s old town. The buildings soon disappear and we settle into an easy rhythm on a gently rising forest path, the air still pleasantly cool, trees shading us from the sun and effort tempered by the knowledge of harder miles ahead.
We cross a river, rushing beneath the bridge with the frenetic energy of the Alps’ summer melt, then as the path narrows and steepens I notice a sign confirming we’re on the Tour du Mont Blanc hiking route, the course for the UTMB. We’re moving in single file with a mix of slow running and fast hiking as the gradient ramps up; our pace just quick enough to pass the handful of hikers who’ve got out before us. Hagen leads, chatting about the route ahead and subtly assessing the group’s ability. Tucked in behind him I can’t help but notice his calves, which look like they’ve been carved by the same monumental geological forces that shaped the Alpine peaks and valleys around us. A fine advert for what decades of mountain running does for your gastrocs.
Martin Kern is in the middle of the group, chatting freely, exuding calm with an easy smile and moving with that fluid, effortless grace we all dream of. My lungs are fairly occupied with acquiring enough oxygen-depleted air to power my legs upwards but I find the breath to ask him about uphill technique. ‘If you don’t have poles, use your arms to help drive you and create momentum with the swing,’ he tells me. I’m conscious we’re not covering the ground at the pace he’s used to, but he assures me that even the top runners in the UTMB hike the really steep sections. But he advises not getting too settled in walking mode. ‘It’s best to try to break up the walking by running some uphill sections where the trail is less steep and less technical,’ he says. ‘It changes the demands on your body, shifting the stress to different muscles and helps you stay loose. Plus, mentally it breaks up the task and helps to keep your mind fresh… and when you start walking again you’ll be so happy!’
That I can swiftly confirm as true, but how about when it gets really steep? Place your hands on your quads for extra support,’ he tells me, ‘don’t place them at your hips or lower back as that creates too much pressure and can cause pain.’
It’s been hard to get a true sense of the elevation we’ve gained as the forest around us is fairly dense, offering views in limited windows through the foliage. Then the trail climbs out of the trees and we’re hit with the full panorama – back to Courmayear, the peak of Aguille des Glaciers in the west and Mont Blanc to the North.
After climbing over 600m in two miles, we pause at the Rifugio Bertone at 1985m to literally regain our breath and metaphorically have it taken away again by the views we’ve earned. Faces are splashed and flasks refilled from an outdoor tap we share with the early-rising hikers. Then the fun really starts.
Following the undulating roller-coaster trail along the southern slope of the Val Ferret, it’s as if we’ve died and gone to trail running heaven. The packed dirt has enough give to soften our landings and the trail is free enough from rocks and roots to allow faster, fluid running.
The ups and downs dictate shifts of gear, but the views remain unrelentingly magnificent. The granite peaks of the Grandes Jorasses and Dent du Géant seem to keep pace with us across the valley, while Mont Dolent towers ahead of us at the intersection of the Italian, Frech and Swiss borders. It’s hard not to slip into cliché – snow-capped peaks gleaming in the sun, the valley below verdant green, the river slicing through it tinted glacial blue and dotted with white water. It’s also hard not to shift your gaze from the trail ahead to the wider scene, but that’s still a risky business as I almost discover to my cost when my toe hits a rock I hadn’t seen coming.
Warning noted, I refocus on what’s ahead, which both helps ensure I remain upright and helps me notice the smaller scale wonders of the wildflowers dotting the hillside in a kaleidoscope of colours. The first person known to have covered a circuit of the Mont Blanc massif on foot – Swiss geologist and physicist Horace-Bénédict de Saussure, who trod an embryonic Tour du Mont Blanc route collecting plant specimens – must have had plenty to fill his journals.
During anther rifugio pitstop I chat to Daniel about the joys of the day so far and the challenges of training for the mountains in our similarly flat home cities of London and Hamburg. With us is Fred Mathieu, our second guide who has been hanging at the back of the group ensuring no one gets left behind. Fred’s got the rugged zen of the mountain man down pat and though he keeps his chat minimal he seems able to convey more via his facial expressions and his shoulders than you could fit into a phrasebook.
We’re soon rolling again, snaking in single-file over the bends and contours of the trail, the valley floor below to our left and the Mont Blanc massif rising beyond. The melting snow feeds streams of various sizes that flow across the trail – some can be hopped, others require a careful stepping-stone approach. After picking our way over one of the more significant streams, we sit for a few minutes to snack, rehydrate, the quiet punctured by the tinkling of cowbells and languid moos from the cattle on their summer pastures.
I’d like it to go on for ever, but after about six miles of the glorious trail above the Val Ferret, we start our descent into the valley. Dropping 1000ft in half a mile offers a close examination of our downhill skill, the trail twisting and turning down into the trees and throwing up roots and rocks to navigate at speed. My technique won’t be worrying Kilian and I’m overtaken by a few of the group, my fears of a collarbone-breaking tumble applying the brakes; my quads taking the strain of the unevenly matched battle with gravity. It’s a lot of fun though. Snatches of acceleration, near misses and missteps, and the sense of jeopardy and consequence mean the adrenaline is pumping all the way down to the valley floor. We regroup, confirm everyone is in one piece, then exchange smiles and make our way to the Chalet Val ferret where my gnocchi awaits.
Wonderful as it is, this wasn’t supposed to be our end point today. The original itinerary had us on higher altitude trails and overnighting at a refuge on the mountain, but Hagen’s recce confirmed the higher trails were impassible (for us at least) after late season snow-fall. So, the adapted plan has us heading back to Courmayeur after lunch. It’s undoubtedly less of an adventure, but a hot shower and refuelling on cold beer and Italian pizza softens the blow.
After the glorious sunshine of day one, we wake to foreboding gloom on the morning of day two. There’s a storm on the way, so we make tracks earlier than planned to bank some miles before conditions become too problematic. Cappuccino-charged, we head west over the swollen Dora Baltea river, past the base station of Courmayeur’s Skyway cable car to rejoin the Tour du Mont Blanc trail and start climbing up through the trees.
It’s much cooler today, misty air nipping the skin and no sun to warm us, but the climb is even steeper, with sheer steps and roots and rocks to haul ourselves over, so we’re soon shoving layers into backpacks. The sky is full of threat of the drenching to come, but by the time we reach the top station of the Dolonne ski lift at around 1700m, I’ve beaten the rain to it, drenching myself from the internal sweat tap. As soon as I stop the mountain air bites my soaked body and I’m keen to get moving.
We climb another 300m or so, above the trees now, on the open mountainside with its hibernating ski lifts looking particularly desolate in the pre-storm gloom. There are no hikers out to test their Gore-Tex, and the eerie solitude is a stark contrast to the buzzy atmosphere on the trails yesterday.
At rest stops we see the distance markers and signage from the UTMB, and I’m reminded of those runners who tackle this trail in infinitely more challenging circumstances. With my legs feeling a weary as I look at the KM76 sign at Checrouit Maison Vielle I try to imagine how it would feel to have come that far and still have another 100km to cover.
It’s all a little humbling but I don’t have long to dwell – our stops are much briefer today. There’s no lingering to soak up the views n ow hidden from us and Hagen is conscious we’re racing against the storm, focussed on shepherding us safely down from the higher altitudes before the weather exposes us to danger. He relaxes noticeably as we drop from the open slopes into a beautiful forest decent winding through the trees.
After being reminded that I need to upskill my downhill yesterday, I asked for some advice from Kern and I can hear his voice telling me to, ‘move like water on the trail’ to ‘imagine you’re a stream flowing down it’. It sounded a little spiritual, but it makes more sense now as I try to follow a line in synch with the lumps, bumps, twists and turns. I’m also trying to follow his advice to keep my body aligned and balanced over my feet and ‘to look a few footfalls ahead rather than always down at your feet so you can plan your route’. It seems to be helping. I feel a little looser than yesterday, perhaps not quite so heavy on the brakes.
‘Sometimes it’s better to jump over rocks or roots rather than manoeuvre around them,’ Kern told me. ‘It’s quicker, it actually uses less energy and puts less stress on the body, and you can stay more balanced an aligned.’ This is more of a leap of faith but I try to commit, hurdling a few smaller obstacles rather braking to weave around them. I feel lighter, my ground contact a little quicker and more nimble, perhaps there’s even a hint of flow… Then I catch a root, catapulting me into an ungainly almost-fall. Struggling to keep control I narrowly avoid a shin-high chunk of rock that would have cost me more than my pride. I just about manage to stay upright with bones intact, but there’s a fracture in my confidence and the brakes come on again. Though maybe not quite as hard.
Today’s weather-curtailed route means we leave the forest path to follow a mountain road back over the river into Courmayeur, completing our circuit of around eight miles and 800m of ascent as the rain falls heavier by the minute. There’s obviously no comparison between the two days on the mountain I’ve experienced and the 100 miles of the UTMB. That’s an undertaking so epic in scale I know it’s beyond me, but for someone with my limited mountain running experience this has been the perfect adventure – a way to step firmly out of my comfort zone and experience moving through these incredible mountains. Thanks to Kern, I’ve also learned a lot in a short space of time, boosting my trail technique and confidence. It’s definitely left me wanting more. Plans to return to the mountains are already taking shape as we minibus back through the Mont Blanc tunnel to Chamonix. And in the true spirit of adventure, next time I may try the Polenta.
Arc’teryx Alpine Academy
This year’s Arc’teryx Alpine Academy runs July 3-6. The Best of Tour du Mont Blanc clinic with Martin Kern is on July 4 and 5 (€359). This year’s route (subject to conditions) starts in the Val Veny valley and follows the Tour du Mont-Blanc trail up to Col de Chavannes and down Mont Percé, along to Col Checrouit and down to overnight in Courmayeur (14 miles, 1250m ascent)).
Day two heads up and along the panoramic trail of Col Sapin, descending into Val Ferret to at Arnuva/Arnouvaz (16 miles, 2400m ascent). Other trail running clinics are a two-day women only Best of Tour des Fiz (€359); two-day Adventure Trail & Bivvy With Phillip Reiter (€299); and one-day Trail Runing Intro With Florian Reichert (€69). chamonix.arcteryxacademy.com
Day 1 on Strava
Day 2 on Strava
