Saturday, August 25, 2007

Rest Days in Chamonix

Friday and Saturday, August 24th and 25th, 2007

Initial impressions confirmed: Chamonix is a VERY nice place, even when one spends hours each day on conference calls :-).

For me Friday was occupied with errands (getting my new boots made Morton's compatible like my old ones, sending my old boots back home, getting a haircut, doing laundry, and so on), as well as wandering through the streets and various emails and calls.

On Saturday (today) I got up fairly early and by 8:45 was on the gondola heading up to the Aiguille de Midi (Russ wanted to stay off of his feet, and Sally seemed to regard any activity that would take more than an hour or two away from her rest day as being anathema!). Most of the next four hours were spent floating among and above peaks and glaciers and snowfields, marvelling at their beauty and also at the temerity of the little groups of people like ants trekking and climbing among them.

In addition there was plenty of time to wonder at the engineering and construction feats of the men who built the gondolas and cable cars that take one up to the Aiguille de Midi, and across to Pointe Hellbronner. At the latter, where you can look down into Italy, there was an exhibition with photos from the construction of the cable-car, as well as a display of minerals put together by a species of madman that I had up until now not known existed: the crystal collectors of Mont Blanc.

These guys scour the peaks and cliff faces, often above 3500m, looking for crystals of quartz and other minerals. In contrast the ultra-marathoners seem to me to be sane and sensible individuals. The photos of them at "work" were... sobering.

From nature pure at -4C on the 3840m Aiguille de Midi with views over half the Alps, it took a mere 10 minutes to come back down into the hot midday sunshine and culture and commerce of the town.

Folks: if you haven't been to Chamonix, and have no current plans to go there, you are making a mistake!

Tonight Thomas Bili and his wife Gabi join us for a couple of days hiking, and tomorrow the H2H continues on its toughest stretch: through the terra incognita, at least to me, of the French Alps down to Monaco. I'm looking forward to it!

Stage 48 -- Moede-Anterne to Chamonix

<reminder: photos now available at:
http://www.flickr.com/search/groups/?q=h2h&m=names
>

Thursday, August 23rd, 2007

After a night in which the rain on the roof (just over our heads) sounded like thunder, we woke up to a cloudless blue sky and a spectacular view of Mont Blanc over the ridge to our south.

We had a pleasant breakfast (as dinner had also been) chatting with a dutch couple who has been doing the GR5 (long distance hiking trail from North Sea to Mediterranean) bit by bit over the last 11 years. This year they have taken four weeks and hope to finish it. Since by my calculations they have only 19 stages to do, and also since in past years they have hiked up to 20 days straight (Sally blanched :-), I think they'll manage it.

The hike was absolutely lovely, through increasingly wild terrain with brilliant views on all sides up to the 2340m Col du Brevent. Local convection clouds at the pass prevented us from seeing Mont Blanc in all its glory, but once we had descended a couple of hundred meters we had a clear view. What an incredible location! The glaciers flowing down through the woods across the valley from us were blinding white in the sun, and the immense size of Mont Blanc was at the same time obvious and yet difficult to grasp.

At a restaurant at Plan Praz we stopped for a (second) lunch and looked through a telescope at the telepherique (gondola) up to the Aiguille de Midi: an astounding feat of construction. Chamonix is simply a place for superlatives.

We found our hotel quickly (Russ and Sally had been there a couple of days before on their boot-buying mission) and then I walked through the town for an hour (before dialling into a 4 hour conference call... connectivity does have its down-sides :-).

Chamonix is a lovely place! A mixture of shops and galleries and restaurants and sports outfitters and hotels, some in new buildings, some old, with an extensive and well-designed pedestrian area, and everywhere when you look up... those amazing views. A little like Provincetown, or Aspen, or anywhere else that has managed to devote itself to tourism without -- somehow -- losing its soul.

It was also full of people, in part, we quickly learned, due to the presence of some 500 or so competitors (and their accompanying supporters / family members) in an ultra-marathon that was to start the following day: 160km and 8900m up and down around the entire massif of Mont Blanc. Like I have said before: no matter what you do, there are others who are doing something even more remarkable (i.e., insane :-).

The decision to spend a couple of rest-days here was a good one....

Friday, August 24, 2007

Russell... Bloggyness

Stardate 1.49 as measured by a recently intercepted Romulan subspace transmission indicating imminent occupation of human occupied space somewhere in the vicinity of Chamonix and Mont Blanc. Whey-plagued intermittent blogger Grooyere reporting:

I would like to write of the poetry of mountains, of the incredible majesty of nature, of the intensity of the confrontation of the human soul with the timelessness of geologic formations, but I cant. I lack the forebrain to comprehend these wonders, due to lead ingestion as a child. Instead, I wallow in the sublime pleasures afforded by an internet caf (Le Bure@u !) with a view of a canal probably containing human effluent. If I crane my neck to the right, and really stretch, I can see the top of Mont Blanc through a grubby windowpane. Here, surrounded by other unwashed interlopers, I can finally relax and report on current events during the H2H marathon.

Speaking of marathons, in about 1 hour 52 minutes, the Ultra-Trail Tour du Mont Blanc (UTMB) will commence right outside our hotel window After months of hiking accompanied only by the voices inside my head, I realize that multi-personality disorder is no substitute for true commune with others, and I look forward to pushing my way through the pack of 2000 competitors, to the very front, whereupon I will collapse upon hearing the starting gun, letting a small squib filled with ketchup explode under my shirt, thereby becoming the first but not last casualty of this crazy race. I do this to hopefully dislodge a few competitors from their A-game, and perhaps let the Eddy the Eagles of this group get a few laughs. 100 miles through three countries, over (up to) 46 hours, up and down over 8900 meters. I have signed you all up for next years event and your training regimen should start ASAP, as this race is no pique-nique. Check it out at:

http://www.ultratrailmb.com/accueil.php

On the other side of the canal, competitors are making their way towards the starting gate. Such a fine collection of human flesh, bulging with time-flayed ultra-musculature, carrying backpacks of carbohydrate gels, dehydrated water, and perhaps a pizza or two, wielding hiking poles that will undoubtedly be used to stab nearby participants, this race of modified humans against the backdrop of the tallest mountain in Europe overwhelms even my sensibilities as to that which is proper, correct, and human. There are mutants amongst us, and I know now where they hold their moot. Never has cheese entered their diets, these poor ultrapeople. I proudly brandish my baguette laden with camembert as a badge of dietary courage, and the occasional mutant gazes at me with a mixture of disbelief, loathing, and perhaps a hint of envy?

Perhaps though, we h2h-ers are not unlike these ultra-marathoners? They cram into 46 hours the same sort of pain-induced limbic endorphin excretion that we currently stretch out over 4 months. The hormones blur ones ability to lay down memories of the pain, akin to childbirth, thus one gets up the next day and actually ventures forth again! I am an ultra-marathoner moving at a much much slower pace, obviously pregnant. This would also explain my inability to remember where we have been, where we are going, and what transpired between these two points. I have to refer continually to the website to figure out where I am. When asked, What are you doing here?, I inevitably must answer, everybodys gotta be somewhere. This engenders a few laughs, and sidetracks the question, which I cannot answer.

At the other end of the spectrum from the ultramarathon lies the sport of sumo wrestling. Im sure cheese plays a significant role in the average 400 pound Sumo wrestlers diet; thus, we have something in common. A love of dietary transgressions can only lead to greatness, and where should one use this greatness to ones greatest advantage?

Naturally, in the dohyo, the wrestling circle. My taken shikona, or wrestling name, is Massacheesey, and I hope to compete in Tokyo next year, perhaps working my way eventually up to the envied level of yokozuna ie. The Big Cheese. Sumo wrestling can be seen nightly on French TV thus cheese-laced dreams of semi-naked diapered wrestling must figure highly in the Gallic id. I knew there was a reason why french cheese calls to me, and this is it. Sumo wrestling

<and that was all... did Grooyere intend to write more but was unable to because of some arterial occlusion brought on by overconsumption of cheese, or did he write further pearls of wisdom that were swallowed up in the great sea of bits? We may never know....>

Russell... Bloggyness

Stardate 1.49 as measured by a recently intercepted Romulan subspace transmission indicating imminent occupation of human occupied space somewhere in the vicinity of Chamonix and Mont Blanc. Whey-plagued intermittent blogger Grooyere reporting:

I would like to write of the poetry of mountains, of the incredible majesty of nature, of the intensity of the confrontation of the human soul with the timelessness of geologic formations, but I cant. I lack the forebrain to comprehend these wonders, due to lead ingestion as a child. Instead, I wallow in the sublime pleasures afforded by an internet caf (Le Bure@u !) with a view of a canal probably containing human effluent. If I crane my neck to the right, and really stretch, I can see the top of Mont Blanc through a grubby windowpane. Here, surrounded by other unwashed interlopers, I can finally relax and report on current events during the H2H marathon.

Speaking of marathons, in about 1 hour 52 minutes, the Ultra-Trail Tour du Mont Blanc (UTMB) will commence right outside our hotel window After months of hiking accompanied only by the voices inside my head, I realize that multi-personality disorder is no substitute for true commune with others, and I look forward to pushing my way through the pack of 2000 competitors, to the very front, whereupon I will collapse upon hearing the starting gun, letting a small squib filled with ketchup explode under my shirt, thereby becoming the first but not last casualty of this crazy race. I do this to hopefully dislodge a few competitors from their A-game, and perhaps let the Eddy the Eagles of this group get a few laughs. 100 miles through three countries, over (up to) 46 hours, up and down over 8900 meters. I have signed you all up for next years event and your training regimen should start ASAP, as this race is no pique-nique. Check it out at:

http://www.ultratrailmb.com/accueil.php

On the other side of the canal, competitors are making their way towards the starting gate. Such a fine collection of human flesh, bulging with time-flayed ultra-musculature, carrying backpacks of carbohydrate gels, dehydrated water, and perhaps a pizza or two, wielding hiking poles that will undoubtedly be used to stab nearby participants, this race of modified humans against the backdrop of the tallest mountain in Europe overwhelms even my sensibilities as to that which is proper, correct, and human. There are mutants amongst us, and I know now where they hold their moot. Never has cheese entered their diets, these poor ultrapeople. I proudly brandish my baguette laden with camembert as a badge of dietary courage, and the occasional mutant gazes at me with a mixture of disbelief, loathing, and perhaps a hint of envy?

Perhaps though, we h2h-ers are not unlike these ultra-marathoners? They cram into 46 hours the same sort of pain-induced limbic endorphin excretion that we currently stretch out over 4 months. The hormones blur ones ability to lay down memories of the pain, akin to childbirth, thus one gets up the next day and actually ventures forth again! I am an ultra-marathoner moving at a much much slower pace, obviously pregnant. This would also explain my inability to remember where we have been, where we are going, and what transpired between these two points. I have to refer continually to the website to figure out where I am. When asked, What are you doing here?, I inevitably must answer, everybodys gotta be somewhere. This engenders a few laughs, and sidetracks the question, which I cannot answer.

At the other end of the spectrum from the ultramarathon lies the sport of sumo wrestling. Im sure cheese plays a significant role in the average 400 pound Sumo wrestlers diet; thus, we have something in common. A love of dietary transgressions can only lead to greatness, and where should one use this greatness to ones greatest advantage?

Naturally, in the dohyo, the wrestling circle. My taken shikona, or wrestling name, is Massacheesey, and I hope to compete in Tokyo next year, perhaps working my way eventually up to the envied level of yokozuna ie. The Big Cheese. Sumo wrestling can be seen nightly on French TV thus cheese-laced dreams of semi-naked diapered wrestling must figure highly in the Gallic id. I knew there was a reason why french cheese calls to me, and this is it. Sumo wrestling

<and that was all... did Grooyere intend to write more but was unable to because of some arterial occlusion brought on by overconsumption of cheese, or did he write further pearls of wisdom that were swallowed up in the great sea of bits? We may never know....>

Sally's triumphant return to blogging

Too long absent, I give you... Sally!!
----

Hello from Chamonix! Yes, we have made it more than halfway now and boy, is that good news! First, let me put to rest the rumor coming out of the green valleys of Vermont that I have been dispatched and nowhere to be found. Not
so. I'm still here.

Hmm, let's see...my last "blog" was some time ago. Laziness, I'm afraid. Ask all who know me. (My folks still think I'm
studying at the U of U.) Last posting was way back in FeldKirche or some such place. It's all a blur. The latest pair of boots, Italian, are doing pretty well for me now. I think that Russ has surpassed me in boot purchases!

As I write this, I am watching people going to the start of a
grueling 100 mile race that will start here in beautiful Chamonix and end, at earliest, 23 hrs from now, right in front of our hotel! Talk about crazy! They are all so...thin. Maybe the lack of physical substance has gone to their brains and lead to this obvious madness. I'm sure glad all I
have to do is hike for the next 40 some days!!!

Speaking of which, what is the Fundamental Motivation for this H2H??? Je ne sais pas. Ich weiss es nicht. No se. Non lo so. I don't know. Well, I think that our fearless leader has captured it most eloquently and insightfully (and has put up with my morning moods admirably!). I can add some things from my brain that cause a motivational drain....

It is true that it is very hard to know how one will respond to the many and varied trails and tribulations (trails...heehee) of this type of venture. I guess what I find the toughest
is that for me, I think doing 4 months of any one thing would become a bit tedious. I used to help guide river trips for the Outdoor Program at the U of U (greatest bunch of guys and gals!) and Russ used to ask why didn't I do it professionally if I liked it so much and the answer is pretty much the same as why I have found out that 92 days of hiking is too much for me. It becomes work. I like to separate work from my pleasures since I can't sing. (if I can't be a singer, all else is work...) I like variety. What can I say. I did go paragliding on our first 2 day rest period. That was new and different and very awesome.

I find that it is also the little things that pluck at my motivation: being stinky on most days, washing clothes on most days, having no real alone time, having to move on each day, no place to hang one's "hat" for more than a day or 2, eating out every day, not having enough time to just watch my garden grow, squatting on trails, packing the
monkey on my back each morning, etc.

But all in all it is a great experience and | know how fortunate I am to have this opportunity. I also think that things worth doing are not always "fun". In fact, I think to
expect to have fun and be happy on a daily basis for 4 months is not something that would ever cross my mind. I would expect to have a variety of emotions on any given 4 month period. If I'm happy, great, if not, well that is fine too. I am not particularly happy slogging up a steep mountain trail in the rain. But that is part of this trip. There are days, quite a few, when I wake up at 6:00am or so and no, I don't want to go out hiking. But that is part of the experience. As is all the beauty and all the fun.

It is true that other than finishing and getting in better shape, I don't have a strong motivation. But I have been on fairly friendly terms with "doing what I don't necessarily want to do" most of my life realizing that I am, at heart, a lazy and somewhat capricious soul. Which is why it is good to push
on. Just to do it. It's okay. I like looking forward to things as much as I like being still. Monte Carlo.... Provence.... Burma... Home.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Stage 47 -- Samoens to Moede-Anterne

<reminder: photos now available at:
http://www.flickr.com/search/groups/?q=h2h&m=names
>

Wednesday, August 22nd, 2007

Our plan to avoid the bad weather worked perfectly: no rain today! We started in fog and ended under clouds, but in between it was sunny and even a little warm in places. The fine weather also allowed us to savour the excellent views... in between vigorous bouts of hiking. This is the first day for a while that there were just the three of us, and I must confess that we didn't exactly amble. The result: 7.5 hours of fairly intense hiking with 1830m of climbing. I feel quite weak at the moment :-).

Perhaps in consequence, the inspirational well seems a little dry. What else is there to say about today? Well, we passed three donkeys serving as pack animals for a group of two or three English families. We had excellent crepes for lunch. We saw a couple of beautiful waterfalls. We couldn't see Mont Blanc from the Col d'Anterne because it was cloudy. We walked through a neat gorge between Samoens and Sixt. We have a little bunkroom to ourselves tonight. Russell's boots seem to be better for him than his previous pair. Tomorrow's weather is supposed to be similar to today's. I passed up an opportunity to have fondue for dinner tonight for perhaps the first time in three weeks (grin). Sally looks funny in her pink knitted hat (double grin), but still hikes faster uphill than I can (grin disappears :-).

And congratulations to Rochelle and Marcus on the birth of their son, Max!!

And I don't think I'll make it past 9PM tonight....

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

The first H2H poem!

From our Aunt Rosalind, who is doing yeoman's work boiling our prolix blog posts and multitudinous photos down to a manageable regular update for our grandmother, comes the following poem. Although the profusion of negative elements in her verse shows that she clearly has been overly influenced by Russell's blog posts... she has, as you will see, a way with words!

Many thanks....

-----

Well, what could I tell nanny about your blogs?
It was difficult, so many words, almost mind-blowing.
I think I got a bit confused when I told her.
Anyway, here goes!

Nanny… So how is their health?

They're hypoglycaemic…or was it anaemic?
They found a bloodsucker! ( in German "Blutzucker")
They're obsessed with their feet and the shoes that they wear
Scarce a day goes by when they don't purchase a pair!
Russell is especially agitated
He says that his have been amputated!
Ankles are twisted, remedies listed,
Chafing butts and infected toes
Are just a few of their reported woes.


Nannie Oh dear …but what are they getting to eat.?

That there is a clear and simple link
Tween what we eat and what we think
Is not known to them!
They worship the great God Cheese
Who wallows in foaming yellowish ease
At every stop upon their way.
They feast at his hideous fat-filled Altar
Till their hearts begin to stutter and falter.
Nothing can succour them and their kind
Till Switzerland is far behind!

Nanny… Ohhh! But are there some lovely views?

There are lots of lovely mountains
And black and frozen fountains
The Moench, the Jungfrau and the Eiger
(Or was it the Geiger??)
But here's a strange thought
They don't look where they ought
Something below holds their gaze
Base product of bovine ways
Occupies their every waking thought!
So my duty is to tell them this
"It's time for the sublime!
Stop thinking of grime!"


Nanny Dear me.. Surely there is lovely bird-song - and chimes of distant bells??

They talk so much of living in hell!
And blame it all on the poor cowbell!
Legions of cows pursue them all day
Till Russell swears there'll be hell to pay
And if this cacophony weren't enough
The Alpenhorns are doing their stuff!!
Calm and peace are what they seek
But seek this in vain on the Alpine peaks!!


Nanny Oh dear,, but I'm sure they are all enjoying being together?


Oh yes they're such a happy band
Like toddlers skipping through the sand.
No talk of stragglers falling behind
The Obergruppenfuhrer is much too kind
And what about their education
Re each and every nation
Their sovereign eyes gaze down upon?
Their leader guy in vain does try
His troops are proving study-shy!
Talk is of foot rubs and drogeries
Of chocolate bars and yet more cheese!
Such chat their Fuhrer must displease!

Nannie You tell me such a tale!
Like Jonah and the whale!!
I know they're all well
Despite the cowbell !!
Just send them my love
I'll forget the above!!

Fundamental Motivations

This is a bit out of the ordinary for this blog in that it is purely an exploration of the psychology of the three of us rather than an update as to what we are doing. However, it is about how we are doing, and there are, I think, enough of you out there who are interested in that topic that it is worthwhile posting. And as for the rest of you, you can just skip it!

The central question is how the experiences of the three of us differ from one another, or, to put it more simply: whether and why we are each having fun on the H2H.

It isn't an easy question to answer and each of us, I think, will have a different answer. I will give mine and also try to describe what I think has been going on for the other two, but I may very well be wrong. Russ and Sally, if you want to, feel free to post about if and how I have misunderstood you.

For me the answer is quite simple: yes, it has been fun. There have been some things that have not been fun (hiking in bad weather, interpersonal friction, some foot pain), but they have for me been definitely outweighed by all the things that have been fun. I get up each morning happy to hike; I have enjoyed almost every minute of every hike, even when the weather has been bad; in Russ and Sally I have two excellent hiking companions who are good people, as fit or fitter than I am, and with whom I get along far better than I would with almost anyone else; and most importantly I'm doing what I have planned and dreamed of for the last couple of years (my fundamental motivation). Add it all together, and yes, I'm definitely having fun.

For Russell, I think the answer is also yes, but with more qualifications. He has suffered more from foot and leg pain than I have, and he has also suffered more from the absence of the rest of his life (work, friends, home and what he does there), than I have. In addition, I think that it has taken him a while to identify a sufficient fundamental motivation (that which keeps him hiking day after day through good weather and bad), and I'll explain what I mean by this.

At first, I think Russell thought that the H2H would be a wonderful holiday He loves being outdoors, he loves exercise, he loves the mountains, and in addition he saw this as an opportunity to lose weight, reset his metabolic clock to age 21, and have normal sleep rhythms for an extended period for the first time in years (his work as an ER doc means that he works nights about a third of the time).

Furthermore he saw this as a chance to do something extraordinary -- something that he could be proud about for the rest of his life.

But what it wasn't was his dream. It was something I suggested that he thought would be a huge amount of fun to do with me, but he didn't take ownership of it in such a way as to make it his dream too. And that's absolutely OK, except that it left him without the same fundamental motivation that I have.

The problem is, Russell soon realized that the H2H isn't a holiday, at least not in the normal sense of the word as a time for relaxation when you can do what you want. It is an expedition, with all that that entails. For example, it entails doing what the "plan" (or perhaps more accurately, the expedition leader -- me -- decides) even when you don't feel like it and even when for you there would be other, better, options. It entails hiking some times even when the weather is awful, and even when you are in chronic pain, and even when you are tired and sick of hiking. It entails spending large amounts of time with other people who may be good people but are not your best friends, and who are also stressed and might at times irritate you (or you are irritated by them, which is not quite the same thing but which has much the same consequences). He discovered that an expedition is, frankly, a very difficult thing to do.

And in the face of this difficulty, I believe that Russ's original fundamental motivations began to crumble. He discovered that although he loves being outdoors hiking in the mountains, he doesn't love it enough to do it for several hours a day for five or six days a week and in the rain or when he is in pain. He realized that he could get most of the weight loss and metabolic reset benefits without hiking every day all day long. And as for doing something extraordinary: well, if you hike most of the time for four months across half of Europe, that is still extraordinary regardless of whether or not you walk every step of the way.

And so, as his original fundamental motivations crumbled, I think that it started to get more and more difficult for him to find the energy to get up and hike each day, particularly when the weather was bad or he was not feeling good.

However there was another motivation that I haven't mentioned so far, but that has, I believe, in the past couple of weeks become more and more clear to him: he doesn't want to let me down. He knows that doing the H2H is my dream, and that it would be difficult psychologically for me, as well as less safe, if I were to hike it alone. And underlying everything is that he loves his brother. And that, I think, has become his fundamental motivation. And I am truly moved and deeply grateful.

Pause.

So, does that mean that the H2H is now fun for Russell? No, not by itself, but I think it opens up the possibility of it being fun. When you don't know why you are doing a thing, or don't see a sufficient reason for doing it, it is very difficult for you to make the best of it, to find ways to enjoy yourself even in objectively crappy circumstances. I think Russell now knows why he is doing the H2H, and I hope that this (and various other changes, including a new -- fourth? -- set of boots :-) will allow him to enjoy himself more of the time.

And now to Sally. I think that Sally would also say that it has been fun, but I'm not sure. In many ways I believe that Sally has been travelling the same road as Russell: her initial fundamental motivations were I think similar to his, and have similarly and for similar reasons crumbled.

An additional difficulty for her has been sleep: she takes a long time to fall asleep and has difficulty sleeping if her room isn't dark. Since we have been sleeping fairly frequently in mountain huts, where night-time peace and quiet are the exception rather than the rule, and since it has been usually difficult or impossible to shut out the morning light, and lastly since we have been fairly consistently getting up early, she has been somewhat sleep deprived.

And, crucially, Sally doesn't have the same commitment to me that Russell has (and, by the way, there is absolutely no reason why she should). She does have that commitment to Russell, but for a couple of reasons this is a less satisfactory fundamental motivation for hiking the H2H.

First, she looks at Russell suffering (because of chronic pain), or not having fun (because the weather is bad), and she sees that it would be objectively better for him personally not to hike some days. Second, I think that she believes that the basis for his fundamental motivation is negative (guilt at the thought of letting me down), rather than positive (love), and so she thinks that he is doing what is bad for him for a bad reason.

The result: if the weather is bad she'll hike if Russell is hiking, in order to support him, but she doesn't like it at all and sees no other valid reason for doing so other than to support him (I think that she feels that if I'm dumb enough to go off hiking alone in the mountains, that is my business :-).

So, when the weather is good, as it has mostly been, then Sally is mostly having fun. But when it isn't, then she isn't. And I'm not sure that the good weather day good feelings are outweighing the bad weather day bad feelings in her overall assessment of her enjoyment or lack thereof of the H2H. I certainly hope they are, but I'm not sure.

I wish I knew of a way to help Sally find a more satisfactory fundamental motivation, but I suspect that I am not a good enough expedition leader for this.

Failing that, then the only way I see at present to make her feel better when the weather is bad would be to have us not hike, and that would require me either to abandon my dream of hiking the whole way from one house to the other, or to put that dream at risk (I talked about this at some length in the blog post from Oberstdorf, I think, but basically it boils down to the following: we have to get out of the high Alps before winter returns, and every day we delay increases the risk that we will not achieve this).

And I'm not willing to do this. I am willing to adjust our hikes when the weather is bad (i.e., by taking easier options or even cutting out a stage by taking a more direct route as we did a couple of days ago from Chindonne to Barme), but not to abandon or put at risk the dream.

As said, I may be wrong about some or all of the above, and maybe this is all just psycho-babble mumbo-jumbo that is way too complicated and unnecessary, but that is how I currently see it. Let's see if Russell and / or Sally set me straight!

And with that we return to our regularly scheduled programming....

Rest days in Samoens

<reminder: photos now available at:
http://www.flickr.com/search/groups/?q=h2h&m=names
>

Monday / Tuesday, August 20th and 21st, 2007

As expected the rain arrived on Monday morning... well, it was more like drizzle for much of the day, but after five straight days of hiking we weren't going anywhere anyway. Ioana and Lidia, looking at a forecast of storms and heavy rain and maybe snow in the mountain passes for the next several days, decided that they would skip the last couple of days to Chamonix and head back home. We bade them, with regret, adieu.

Before they left, however, the three of us went for a walk through the Jaysinia Alpine Gardens, a hillside botanical garden with several thousand varieties of mountain plants and trees from around the world, that was founded a hundred years ago by a former shepherdess who left her flocks grazing on the hillside where the gardens now are and left to find her fortune in Paris. In this she was spectacularly successful, founding with her husband what was to become one of the largest department stores in Paris: La Samaritaine. Quite a story.

After coffee and cakes at an excellent little Confiserie, Lidia and Ioana left with Michelle, who had come to pick them up. Russell and I then spent much of the afternoon trying to resolve our various hiking boot conundrums. In my case I was looking for someone to grind out a dell in the inner soles of my new boots (the old ones' tread having been worn almost completely away, leading to a noticeable increase in the frequency of my slipping on the trails!). However, I couldn't find anyone who was able to do the job so I'll have to carry the new boots with me to Chamonix and have them done there (I hope).

Russell was looking for his (fourth?) new pair of boots. He had discarded pair #2 in Montreux because they were too flexible and as a result his feet were hurting, but pair #3, which he had worn for the past five days, were too stiff and as a result forced his gait to change in a way that has been killing his knees (and feet and the rest of his legs, to a lesser extent). He was, however and unfortunately also unsuccessful: none of the five sports stores in town had any boots of an intermediate flexibility that would fit him.

In consequence today (Tuesday) he has gone off to Chamonix (in a car amiably lent to us by the hotel owner) to see if he can find a pair there. This is actually an extremely nice thing to do on his part for me. I'll explain...

It would have been easy for him to decide not to hike to Chamonix and instead to take another few days off. For one thing, his legs are still hurting, and for another, there are probably a couple of soggy days upcoming on the way to Chamonix, and hiking in the rain is no fun. But he says that he didn't come on the H2H to skip days if he doesn't have to, and that it will be safer for me if I don't hike alone.

He is an excellent brother and an excellent hiking partner!

Sally has also gone along with him, despite the fact that it is an hour's drive in each direction and that she was really looking forward to relaxing and reading a book. Must be love. ;-)

And that brings to mind the soap-opera cliff-hanger ending of a few posts ago: the differing experiences of the H2H among the three of us. But that's a longer topic that deserves its own post....

Stage 46 -- Barme to Samoens

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Sunday, August 19th, 2007

A very big day: after almost two months of hiking, we finally reached France! The weather was like the day before and the hike was neither particularly long (6.5 hours) nor particularly hard, but it was particularly satisfying. The first part, up to and over the Col de Cou, was lovely: a continuation of the previous day up the valley beyond Barme, then onto a ridge leading up to the pass, down into a wild valley on the other side and then up over a shoulder (the Col de Golese). Thereafter it was a little dull -- a road walk down into Samoens -- but as said, overall a very satisfying day.

Samoens is a lovely little town, with lovely old wooden buildings and a massive six hundred year old Tilleul (Linden / Lime tree) in the center of the square. Our hotel was a couple of hundred yards from the center, but nice and peaceful, and after showering and changing we walked back into town for a delicious dinner in a local restaurant. Cliches were confirmed: the food really is better in France than anywhere else!

Stages 44 and 45 -- Chindonne to Barme

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Saturday, August 18th, 2007

The alert readers among you will have noticed in my previous post that I got the stage numbers wrong when talking about skipping the Lac de Salanfe: the correct stage numbering is in the title of this post.

In the fog of my tiredness I also neglected to mention that Ioana rejoined us in Chindonne, and we had a merry dinner near a crackling fire in the restaurant that evening. The Alpage de Chindonne is a lovely building in a beautiful location with gorgeous views out over the valley of the Rhone. We were just about alone there because the weather had been forecast to be bad (although it turned out to be fine), and the owner said that many others had called in and cancelled. It is a difficult thing to run a mountain hotel, I think: either feast or famine... as we were to see in Barme.

We set off around 8:45, and it was a beautiful hike. Sally observed with pleasure that it was her kind of country, and Ioana said it was even better than the hikes she did with us through the Berner Oberland. The views on our left up to the dramatic peaks of Les Dents du Midi, and on our right down to and across the deep Val d'Illiez were tremendous. The weather was cool enough to make hiking comfortable, but not so cold as to be unpleasant. The trail was well-laid and relatively free of mud and cowpies. Lunch at the very basic Chalet d'Anteme under towering cliffs was surprisingly good. Tea and a tart at the charming Cantine de Bonavau were excellent and came at just the right time. We were, I think, all in very good spirits at 18:45 as we came over the last shoulder and descended into the hamlet of Barme... where we found what initially appeared to be chaos.

The Cantine de Barmaz where we had booked for the night seemed, particularly in comparison with the previous night in Chindonne, to be a seething mass of humanity. Kids of all ages bouncing on a trampoline and running around everywhere, most of the tables outside and inside full, and the whole attic for all intents and purposes a single bunkroom. Saturday night after a sunny day: it was clearly a feast.

Russell came down to dinner with a handful of Benadryl and cheerfully dire predictions for all and sundry. It was going to be horrible, he said. No-one would sleep a wink. All those kids running wild, and a baby just next to us. The worst night on the H2H, he predicted, with glee. The only thing to do would be to get drunk, stay up late until the masses had somewhat settled, take sleeping pills, stuff in ear-plugs, and then hope for a couple of hours of unsettled rest. So we set about carrying out his plan :-).

Dinner was copious and excellent, beer and wine were drunk, Russell, Sally and I downed our Bennies, and nevertheless, despite our best efforts, by 21:45, while everyone else, including the baby, appeared to be still as lively as ever, we were all yawning and ready to sleep. We went upstairs as, if not the first then certainly one of the early (attempted) sleepers. Sally, queen of earplugs, professionally inserted mine, and then -- mirabile dictu -- I fell quickly asleep and had an excellent night.

In fact, I fell asleep so quickly, probably as a result of the unaccustomed medication, that I missed out on great hilarity as Russell (dubbed "Deux Douches" by the kids as a result of his interaction with them earlier in the evening) orchestrated those same kids in coordinated waves of light-switching-off. Lidia and Ioana got fits of giggles at his antics and afterwards, relaxed and in good humour, they all slept better than they had slept in Chindonne the night before!