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Post a Comment. You have been warned. Will I get over these trail jitters? Will these sleepless nights end? Yes: today the tide turned. Our destination was the town of Courmayeur; his was as far as his feet would carry him until he stopped. Jim feasted on muesli, bread, jam, OJ and coffee. My appetite was definitely off, but I tried to consume some calories normally not a problem for me. We planned to get lunch mid-day at Rifugio Elisabetta. Our boots were still damp, as were our hiking clothes yes, we wore the same pants for 10 days but we expected to dry out as the forecast promised some sunshine. We were on our way by a. Every day begins with a climb and we will soon be enveloped in the mist. Goodbye Les Mottets! We climbed at a pace I could sustain and this worked extremely well, stepping purposefully and concentrating on steady breaths. I did glance around from time to time. Crossing this cascade got our attention. One misstep is one too many! We caught up with the clouds, making it even more important to stay close together. Like yesterday, we mixed in with a guided group and leap-frogged each other during rest and photo breaks. Hello Italy! As we began our descent, the clouds lifted up to linger around the mountaintops, letting the sunshine and blue sky take over. My spirits lifted as well with the revelation of the grand towering jagged peaks we had been walking past. Glacier NP, Grand Tetons where I sometimes felt like I was at the top of the mountains, here I realized that I will never be on a summit looking down, that the mountains will always be much taller than whatever elevation I may reach. Our friend Hai walking past remains of an old building the last we saw of him. The French-Italian border of Col de la Seigne has long been significant in relations between the countries, constantly guarded by a garrison that included the Barracks. The darkest time lived in these places is related to the Second World War, during which the Col de la Seigne was the scene of one of the attacks carried out by the Italian army behind a now beaten France by Nazi Germany. Even today are recognizable everywhere in this area the remains of the fortifications and shooting positions. The Barracks are now a museum and environmental education center called La Casermetta — a perfect spot for a break. Sitting high up on a shelf, Rifugio Elisabetta looked like a postcard. In fact, it is an iconic picture of the Italian Tour de Mont Blanc. At Elisabetta we met many TMB hikers taking a break out of the strong wind. Huge portions of veg for me with a Fanta orange, lentil for Jim with Italian coffee, and an enormous slice of cake for dessert. Can we have a Coke to go, please? They even had wifi. Another waterfall tucked into a fold in the landscape. More abandoned buildings. Looking down into Val Veni. Along the valley floor the TMB follows an old roadbed built by the Italian army. This is a look back over our shoulder. Can you see Rifugio Elisabetta? Majestic Mont Blanc is hiding in the clouds again. Lac Cambol. Fishermen at Lac Cambol. Glacier di Miage. Val Veni panorama - the tip of Mont Blanc above the clouds. The only thing that could possibly make this day better for Jim is — mountain bikers from out of nowhere! Southern face of the Mont Blanc range. The best view yet of Glacier du Miage. Staying on course as the TMB descended back down to tree line. Labels: Tour du Mont Blanc. No comments:. Newer Post Older Post Home. Subscribe to: Post Comments Atom.

A meeting of ways in Courmayeur

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I have been dreaming of running the Gran Trail Courmayeur Mountain Ultra since our last visit to the Alps two years ago in This year was different however — I had two more years of running and base miles under my belt, we would be in the mountains for a week before the race, and I was able to log a nice training block in May and June around the East Bay hills including a night-time Mount Diablo exploration. We arrived in Paris toward the end of June and had a wonderful week as always, even catching the amazing France v. I maintained some mileage and some shakeout runs, despite an oppressive heat wave that had all of Europe in its grip. Our next stop was down to the Dordogne, a region that we had not explored in our biennial trips. Our goal there was to check out the rivers and prehistoric cave art of the region. I kept running, again despite the record heat and humidity, and of course we kept eating. Croissants, bread, saucisson, delicious cheese, and yes, even some Foie Gras. And then, on the Friday morning eight days before the race, and three days before our launch for a family backpack in the Alps, I woke up with intense pain in all of the joints in my body. My toes, ankles, knees, elbows, wrists, and fingers all felt like someone was jabbing them with ice-picks. I literally could barely walk around, much less get out of bed. I freaked out, staying up into the wee hours of the morning on Google searching for my symptoms never a good idea and desperately asking for advice on Facebook also maybe not a good idea, but hey I do know some doctors and nurses! That coupled with being slightly dehydrated since getting off the plane and yes, continuing to run seemed to point in the gout direction. I did what any sane ultra-runner would do — I drank as much water as I could handle, swore off the meat, cheese, bread, and dairy, and started an infusion of mg of Ibuprofen every six hours. I was worried about the backpack but more importantly I was worried about my targeted race. I was hoping it was gout and that it would all get better, but was also struggling with the possibility that it was something like Rheumatoid Arthritis that I would be battling for a long time. The first few days I was in so much pain that I was literally crying on the descents, dreading every single time my foot came in contact with a slightly pointed rock. On Wednesday morning I could barely climb out of the refuge bunk bed, but I did, and I dragged myself to the nearby Chapel built into the rock for a come-to-Higher-Power moment. Perhaps I had under-estimated these mountains once again. Perhaps I needed to surrender fully to the powers at work and hope that I could indeed recover for an epic run in Italy just a few days away. Wednesday was my low point and the Mountain Gods must have taken a bit of pity on me as I felt a bit better in the following days. And so we walked down to the AM start from our hotel on Saturday July 13th, joining the steady stream of European trail runners that looked more like they were heading into battle than out to enjoy a fun run. K-tape liberally applied across their legs, trekking poles slung across their backs like arrows in a quiver — we were shocked at how seriously it seemed like the predominately male crowd was taking this event. After waiting in the crowded starting chute and trying to catch a few words in Italian we were off, running through the ancient cobbled streets of Courmayeur and desecending down to Pre-Saint-Didier. We were approaching this race as one of endurance, as the initial climb was miles and miles long. I had a goal in my head to finish without a headlight and to try to dip under 12 hours if we could keep moving along quickly enough. My real goal was to get the taste of a European mountain ultra, and start working on that uber low gear that I would need for my upcoming mile bid in October in Tahoe as well as when I eventually run UTMB. The climb was long and gradual and the views kept getting better and better. There were conga lines for sure, and we passed a bit here and there on the descents. We were hanging out in rear-mid pack but were climbing a bit faster than most and definitely descending faster on the technical stuff. The route was glorious, and we followed parts of the Tor des Geants route backwards, eventually connecting with the TMB at the Col de la Seigne, the border between Italy and France. My wife and I have a TMB fastpack attempt scheduled for August so this was also a reconnaissance trip for us to check out the Italian side of the trail. Crampons were part of the mandatory gear list, but we never actually put ours on as by the time we got to the snow fields there were nice steps kicked into the crossings. There were definitely a few points along the way where it would have been bad to slip, but we took our time and used our poles and felt reasonably safe. The trail was brilliant in that every time you thought you were getting to a col and topping out, it somehow kept meandering up as you gained a ridge and kept on climbing. We were relieved to meet up with a Glacierologist from England just speaking English for a bit was nice! Unfortunately, as he was describing the different deaths of the nearby glaciers, he assured us that we really were as fucked as a society as we imagined. I had some concerns about the aid stations hearing that sometimes they literally only served meat and cheese. While these were definitely items on the menu and high quality ones at that! I tapped into the Euro electrolyte tonic of flat Coca Cola and kept one of my bottles full of that at all times. We kept moving, we kept climbing, and eventually we passed through Maison Veille and knew we were finally getting close. We were on track for a sub 12 hour finish but of course had one more serious climb up and around the ski-slope before hitting the steep, dusty switchback descent into Courmayeur. We crossed the line in 11 hours 37 minutes, my wife super proud of her second ultra ever no one will ever say she picked an easy one! Post race we enjoyed the cafeteria grade pasta, melon, and prosciutto US take note: a post-race pasta buffet is a much better idea than a pre-race pasta buffet! I had a tiny bit of FOMO for not doing the longer race, especially as my body felt pretty good the entire day, but I absolutely know that it was the best decision. I would love to return and do the k some day but definitely think it would be a good idea to bring an English speaking partner and just plan on sticking together for the whole push through the night. In the end we got exactly what we set out for in the beginning — an epic, beautiful day in the mountains. The Euro trail scene is quite a bit different than in the States, and I learned a lot about what to expect and how everything unfolds throughout a race. Finally, we got a feel for the Italian section of the TMB and know a bit what we are in for when we attempt our fastpack in August. I highly recommend this for folks looking for a European Mountain Ultra without a qualifier or crazy lottery to get in! Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment. The France v. US game was a highlight of our stay in Paris And then, on the Friday morning eight days before the race, and three days before our launch for a family backpack in the Alps, I woke up with intense pain in all of the joints in my body. Leading the group down the Col de Salenton. They might think twice before signing up for a trip with us again. We had our work cut out for us for sure. Write A Comment Cancel Reply.

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