A Winter hike in the alps, 31/10-11/1 2026

31/1 — Saturday 

Realizing that the weather will be fantastic this weekend, I decided to go hiking. With no specific plan or preparation, and no car (not even a license at the moment, long story), I decided once more to go to Chamonix. The night before I did a last minute pack: tent or no tent? Should not be that much snow, I’ll bring it. Then today I woke up at 05:00 and took the local bus towards Geneva from where I planned to take a flixbus to Chamonix. One small problem, however, as I tried to book the ticket, while on the local bus, I found out that the morning flixbus was fully booked. Start thinking … 

There is a Swiss Tour bus leaving earlier that I’m technically not supposed to be in time for, according to the local bus timetable. But this early in the morning traffic is moving along nicely, and the French (and the French Swiss) do not wait if early. So I made it to the Swiss Tour bus with 10 minutes to spare. It is nice when things turn out better than planned. 

Shortly before 8 am, I’m in a grey and cold Chamonix, where is the promised sun? From Chamonix I hike to Les Houches — I planned my route while on the bus. 

From Les Houches I start climbing towards Refuge de Tete Rousse. My idea is to scout the Gouter Route for a 2027 solo (?) ascent of Mont Blanc. Shortly after leaving Les Houches I cleared the fog, ah, there is the sun I was promised. And with that, in combination with going uphill, four top layers become one. 

At around noon, I’m hiking in full summer weather.  The sun is almost scorching. I just lay in the grass basking, eating cheese. But shortly after winter arrives. As I continue, I’m hiking along the north face, and the sun stays behind the mountains and the snow here is deep, and shit.

The snow is loose on the flats such that one easily steps down between the boulders hiding beneath. A good way to get hurt. But on the slopes the snow is ice hard, it is almost impossible to kick-out steps to walk on. Luckily somebody had hiked here before the snow froze and I can use their footsteps. 

After a while I caught up with 2 local guys who had the same plan I did. But they are turning back. The amount of snow had surprised them, usually it is not this much. And like me they did not have crampons. I decided to continue to Cabane des Rognes by following in the footsteps of someone who clearly had hiked with crampons, but luckily had left deep enough footsteps for me to use.

At Cabane des Rognes it is decision time. Continue to Refuge de Tete Rousse, stay here, or go down to Refuge du Nid d’Aigle. While I was basking in the sun making tea, six people came down all wearing crampons. I have to buy a pair for next year. Given that I’m quite happy with the day already, and not having crampons, I hiked down to Refuge du Nid d’Aigle planning to sleep in the winter room and hoping to meet some nice people. There were no other people around and I got the whole place to myself. I wrapped up the afternoon on the wooden deck, watching a spectacular sunset before turning to my book as night fell early at 17:30.

This was the first time in a long time I hiked in boots. I at least had enough foresight to know that there might snow. But not the foresight to leave the tent at home. Feels pretty good with boots. And I might as well get used to it. Next season there will be a lot of mountaineering. 

1/11 — Sunday 

I’m exactly sure what to do today. Simply walking back to Chamonix would make for a very short hike. But at the same time there are not many reasonable alternatives. So in the end, I decided to walk back to Chamonix. 

After morning tea, I set off down towards the clouds in what would be a rather interesting decent. This not being the north face, there was much less snow, but it was icy. As I had almost cleared the icy parts, after some not very graceful scrambling, I met a young lad on his way up with four dogs and a rifle slung behind his back. As I continued descending into the fog towards a plateau, I saw his fellow much older companions, they let the youngling make the slippery climb, lined up along the trail ready to take the shot. It definitely feels like an appropriate time to hunt in dense hiker territory, when the area is covered in fog. At least none of them were drunk, which cannot always be said about the Swedish hunters. 

At Bellevue the sun penetrated the fog and I stopped for breakfast before continuing to Chamonix. To Chamonix I took the slightly longer forest road that runs north of the river. After 2 kilometres, with zero pre-warning, the trail was closed due to the risk of rockfalls. I decided to adopt the French “to not give a shit” attitude (when in Rome) and continued. 

In Chamonix I strolled around a bit in the town square, buying cheese, while waiting for the bus back to a surprisingly windy Geneva.