Description of a long hike above and beyond Val d’Isère, one of the world’s most famous ski resorts, and a superb arena for dramatic summer mountain walking.
Exploring the walking routes around Val d’Isère in the summer brings you closer to the peaks you visit every winter,
and gives an understanding of the terrain you ski over, a glimpse of some of the other inhabitants of the region, and an appreciation of the mountains that tower over you. Rain in the valley falls as snow higher up, and looking at the surrounding mountain-tops you see which are the ‘big boys’ as they’re the ones wearing a new, white dusting of snow.
We had been in Val d’Isère for a week when we did our longest hike. We knew it required an early start so planned to catch the bus from the centre of the village to the hamlet of Fornet, saving a boring slog up a gradual incline on the tarmac. Sadly we missed the half-hourly bus so decided to walk. We should have waited. The 30-minute walk to Fornet didn’t use up much energy, but took precious minutes which we could have done with later in the day. We were rewarded at Fornet, however, as here you get your first glimpse of the Grande Motte, which pokes its head over the Tovière ridge, and it’s glacier glints white against the grey of the foreground rocks.
Here also the walk starts in earnest, ascending the path you can see in winter as you ski on the south-facing slopes of Val d’Isère, a horizontal gash in the scree with a faint upward tilt to the right, visible even when covered in snow, climbing endlessly up this vast craggy hillside. We found it as unrelenting as it looks - a steep slog from Fornet at 1950m to the Col de la Bailletta pass below the Tsanteleina at 2862m. The path is narrow, following the contours of the hillside, and occasionally crosses a tumbling stream where weary feet can be cooled. On and on you climb until, three hours from Fornet, you reach a grassy plateau by a tiny lake - the perfect picnic stop and a relief to be on something approaching horizontal again. The ridge looks close, but it’s a further hour across loose scree, with a scramble over a boulder-fall, until you reach the top and a large cairn and photographs. At nearly 3000m there’s snow on the ground, having collected in troughs in the landscape, which provides amusement for groups of hikers clad in shorts.
This side of the ridge feels like another world, a remote valley far from the pâtisseries and cafés of Val d’Isère. Far below is a reservoir and behind that stands the triangle of rock which is the massive Grande Sassière, one of the ‘big boys’ at 3747m. To the right is a wall of peaks and a glacier leading up to the Italian border. To the left, the path snakes down towards a distant, grassy plateau, eventually joining the edge of the reservoir. In this valley are eagles, lammergeyers, ibex and chamoix, living out an extreme existence.
We gradually lose height for a couple of hours, looking out for the faintest of paths which would take us back over the ridge and into Val d’Isère. It comes a good hour after we hoped. By now we’ve been walking for 6 hours, are looking forward to showers and cups of tea, and at first it feels as if we’ll just hop over the ridge and home, but it’s another long climb 600m up a steep grassy slope, following small stream. Above us, chamoix pick their way through loose boulders, which crack against each other noisily in this strangely silent wilderness. At the top the weather has changed - it’s raining, wintry, there’s snow on the ground and the wind is howling, unchecked, from one valley to the next. A herd of ibex bound up the rocks with ease, and stand picturesquely silhouetted, watching us.
From the top of this pass the path crosses a long, sloping, pleasant, grassy plateau, then plunges steeply downwards in a series of tight hairpin bends. At each hairpin you drop four feet, and on the path above you your walking companions’ ankles are at your shoulder level.
Here we find our first edelweiss, first one lone plant, then several clumps, shivering in the wind. The path becomes steeper, crossing not meadows now but pillars of rock. This knee-crunching, thigh-burning, descent takes two hours and drops you back in the fields behind Le Cret, the first hamlet of Val d’Isère itself. Suddenly you’re passing horses tethered in small paddocks, children walking dogs, and people wearing flip-flops enjoying an evening stroll.
We walk slowly back to our chalet, 11 hours after leaving it, 1650m of ascent and descent later, to a good bath and a well-earned meal.
