Day 12: Col du Balme, France - Returning to Hiking Adventures of the Past

Wednesday, July 12, 2023

Chamonix, France

We start every morning by eating breakfast together on our travels.  Not only does this save money, but it gives us a chance to connect, calibrate, and collaborate on the day's activities. 

Since coffee isn’t always easily accessible in some places, we make our plans around visiting a cafe before heading out on our adventure.  I may have mentioned that I am somewhat… picky when it comes to coffee.  It wasn’t always this way.  But I’ve left that life behind me and in the words of the character Ego from the Pixar film, Ratatouille, “I don’t like [coffee]. I LOVE IT.”  So, my family has to put up with my caffeine snobbery and follow me to the best espresso in town.  

Today, the best coffee place was recommended to me by some of the ladies at the Tourist Office.  We stopped by, “Moody”, which has an ironic label, because it acutely characterizes our family before we have coffee.  After we reached equalization and utopia, we were ready for our adventure.  

We walked to a bus stop and took the bus South, following the path I had taken with my father exactly 10 years earlier.  It was in 2016, my dad and I traveled to Chamonix to start the Haute Route, a 110-mile trail that took us over the French, Swiss, and Italian Alpine mountains for 12 days. That experience rocked our world. And it all started in Chamonix, France.

I was taking my family on that same path but without the exhausting pain of hiking for 8-10 hours a day.  On the first day of the experience in 2016, we started the hike in Chamonix and rode a bus to the start of the trail.  In the present, my family and I were riding that same bus, heading to a small mountain village called, “Le Tour”.  My dad and I had hiked through this town 10 years earlier and I was now walking those same streets with my family, as I retold and relived those past memories.  

Hans and Bob, Le Tour, 2013

Some of you may be thinking— Hans, did you drag your family all the way to France to show them your past hiking adventures?  Actually, it wasn’t my idea.  Since Jonas was born, he and my dad, Bob Tullmann, would spend time together and one of the common stories Bobu shared with Jojo, was the story of Col du Balme.  Photos on Google Home displays, our hiking photo book, and stories from Grandpa made an impression on Jonas.  Months before planning this trip, we asked Jonas where he wanted to go if he could go anywhere in the world.  He said, “Col du Balme”. 

So here we were— at the very place from the stories Jonas was told since he was a toddler.  Since Jonas has a hiking capacity of about 5-10 minutes before breaking down, we opted to climb the slopes with a cable car.  When my dad and I had approached the daunted slopes of this mountain valley, we had passed by the cable cars and hiked the whole way to the ridge.  

I recounted to my family the arduous climb a decade ago.  My dad and I had stopped halfway up.  I had to nurse blisters on my first day hiking in heavy hiking boots, while my dad took a short nap, both of us were exhausted by exertion we had trained for, but were not prepared for.  Overhead, there were people in cable cars, quickly ascending the mountain with ease, while weary hikers rested from climbing.  

Bob, Le Tour, 2013

Hans, Le Tour, 2013

Bob and Hans, the trail to Col Du Balme, 2013

Now, I was the one in the cable car, looking down with my family, on memories from long ago. The pain, a distant recollection…

After the first cable car, we got off and took a short walk to a ski lift that would take us the rest of the way.  This was our first time boarding a hanging bench, with a lap bar, but overall, exposed, as we rose to dizzying heights.  Alina thought the experience was exhilarating.  

We got off at the top of the ski lift and started on a gradually uphill trail to the ridge, where Col du Balme was waiting for us.  The grassy mountain surrounding us descends into the expanding valley of Chamonix, giving us a gorgeous view.  However, foggy clouds were drifting up the valley, obscuring our route and destination.  

We walked the windy path, admiring the alpine wildflowers.  After about 15 to 20 minutes, we arrived.  Col du Balme is a mountain ridge and boundary of France and Switzerland.  There is an engraved small stone pillar that marks the country's bounty and Jonas sat on it.  Patches of snow surrounded us on grassy mountaintops, giving us a view of the French valley on one side and the side valley on the other.

Another landmark is a mountain Cabane, an alpine hut where hikers can purchase a meal and bed for the night.  Day-hikers can enjoy drinks and food in the afternoon, without dedicating hours of sweat and effort to reach this doorway between nations.  We opted to sit inside and enjoy a beer and apricot tart.  Hikers lounged inside and outside the cabane, a transition in their own travels.  There are Swiss flags and maps all over the walls.  I can trace the journey my dad and I took so many years ago— we had stopped at this very cabane after hours of toil on the mountain trails.  But this was only the halfway point for my dad and me back then… before we took a wrong turn… 

I retold the story to my family.  A scary story, as Jonas puts it.  My dad and I couldn’t find the correct route from Col du Balme down to the village of Trient.  We took a wrong path that cost us 2 hours of daylight and almost our lives. 

Bob, deciding which trail to take, 2013

Our false trail led us over a steep snowy bank, one slip could take us down the mountain in a heartbeat.  The trail took us to a very thin ridge, steep slopes dropping hundreds of feet on either side of us.  We thought it was the right way, but after an hour of carefully navigating a jagged, rocky trail, we found the end— a deadly panorama overlooking unknown mountains and valleys.  A metal cross had been erected in memorial of hikers who had died on the trail.  

Hans, capturing the wrong trail, 2013

We had turned back to Col Du Balme, discovered the correct trail, and descended into the village of Trient late into the night.  We hiked for 11 hours for about 12 miles and ascended 4,701 feet in altitude.  It was only the first day of hiking, but it almost ended the entire expedition.

Back in the present, we were playing Uno in the comfortable dining room of Cabane de Col du Balme, as these thoughts drifted through my mind.  I was thankful my family didn’t have to experience that pain and fear…but at the same time, I felt sorry they couldn’t share the same experience. 

We ended our time with a race between Jonas and me to a snow bank, similar to the one my dad and I encountered.  There he tasted the snow and attempted a snowball fight with Dad. 

Before leaving, we FaceTimed my dad to share the experience with him, even if from a distance.  

We hiked the trail back to the ski lift to make our descent back down into the valley.  A herd of mountain cows bid us farewell, with clanging bells and mild curiosity.  

The ski lift was windy on the way down, so we bundled up in layers.  We transitioned to the cable car to complete our trip down the village of Le Tour.  

On the bus back down into the valley of Chamonix, Jonas slept.

We got off the bus close to Super U for some more food shopping.

As we made our way through the busy streets of Chamonix, we decided to splurge and enjoy gelato, Europe’s original version of ice cream, except, exponentially Superior to American ice cream.  

There.  I said it.  

Sorry, not sorry, it’s the best.  

We enjoyed our gelato, rode the bus home, and ate dinner.  Typically we don’t have dessert before dinner, but… when in Rome OR close to it, you adapt.