Mountains! Mountains! (And moochers)

The Mont Blanc Moochers have been excited by the thought of walking in the Mont Blanc (referred to from here as “MB”) region since late last year when we planned it a the top of the Kangaroo Point cliffs, though we are not over-optimistic about the level of fitness of we four mature ladies. Hence the Facebook Messenger group name. 

Brisbane’s hottest-ever summer made the enthusiasm hard to maintain but we sweated around Mt Cooth-tha and the Springbrook Circuit just enough to feel it was worth putting on hiking boots. 

And here we are 6 months later flying in from Milan (see previous post), training in from Venice via Vevey, and driving in from... (was it Milan too Wendy?) to a dinky chalet outside Chamonix, meeting the rest of the Exodus random walkers group and John the tall calm guide, all ready to hike our hearts out.

Bad weather looms for the next week so we mooch at top speed down to central

Chamonix and catch a late afternoon cable car in two heart-stopping swaying lurching stages to the top of Aguille de Midi (the Midi Needle), Chamonix’s show-off peak. 

Step off into low oxygen, bright sun, blazing whiteness. We are wobbly, air-sick, excited by 360 degree views of sheer snow slopes, toy towns in the valley and a vista of peaks that goes on and on.

The next day the local bus takes the team to the north-end of the valley to Le Tour, then the Chalets de Charamnillign (sp?), and through the cloud and rain to the windy top of Aiguillette (“Little needle”) des Possettes via a very welcome coffee stop. Over the top in the rain and cloud and wind to the train home from Montroc to “Cham” as we learn to casually call it.

The third day, minibus to Les Houches, along a logging road in increasing cloud to a welcome refugio with nuclear strength coffee, to reach the Col de Voze to see the train that was meant to reach the top of MB - but never quite did. We see edelweiss (cue terrible “Sound of Music” renditions).

Stormy day comes next - but not before we have got to Courmayeur in Italy and walked from a wooded grove up a flower popping coloured slope of iridescfent beetles, catkins and two types of gentian. Highlights of the day include Italian hot chocolate that has the consistency of melted tar, distant marmots and melting snow drifts that make a drama out of a simple creek crossing. 

(Not much hiking on the “rest”day but we love the cog and rail train to the Mer de Glacé glacier, glimpses along the valley and heights, and the ice blue subterranean radiance of the Grotte des Glaces - ice drippy clear walls, blue-green-turquoise corridors.)

Ah, at last we get the day we deserve: the temperature drops and at the south end of the Cham Valley we breathlessly stomp higher and higher to the Aiguillettes des Houches and de Brevant. The Alps spread before our eyes from the ridge to the Massif to beyond Aguille de Gouter, Dome de Gouter and the three-peaked de Tacl, Maudit  to MB. Hot sunshine, cold air, distance and height before the gaze.

The last day comes too fast, but it is a good one. Public bus to Argentier to mooch along zigzag pine needle padded trails, past lichen and boulders, a tatty ibex, listening to for birdlike marmot calls.

To the top of the ridge leading to Aiguillette Rouges and its iron-leaking rock but instead traverse west along lovely paths that cross gravelled streams, and scree falls and snow banks. 

We Moochers are continually passed by runners and fit people with fancy gear but we don’t care because we have walked the best bits of the Mont Blanc circle and for me it is time to turn the circle for home.