Days 79 to 81: Stage 3 Begins, Hello Écrins!

Day 79: Swayed by Music and an Impressive Entrance into the Écrins

After a few rest days, the morning objective for Hugo, Roel and me is the same: hitchhike back up to the Col du Lautaret to begin Stage 3. Hugo has to leave from Saint Jean d’Arves, me from Briançon, and Roel from a small village near where I am, he went to see a friend this morning. Since we only have seven kilometres to do today, there is no rush, and I take my time. After a quick resupply, quick is a generous word because if you are starting to know me, you will know I always carry too much food, my hitchhiking adventure begins. It turns out to be a bit trickier than on the way down, and I manage it after four different lifts. One driver is a rafting guide and another is a hot air balloon pilot, which is so cool, I have never had the chance to chat with someone who does that for a living. With four rides in less than an hour, I feel like I am on autopilot with my travel story. The first question is always, “What are you doing in France?”, followed by “I’m hiking the HexaTrek”, then “The Hexa what?”, “It’s a hike across France on foot”, “All on foot?”, “Yes yes”, and so on. Sometimes the classic comes up: “But why don’t you hike in Canada instead? It’s beautiful there!” It is of course part of the hitchhiking adventure, but let’s be honest, it can get a bit repetitive.

When I arrive at the Col du Lautaret around 12.30 pm, Roel and Hugo are already sitting on the terrace of a small restaurant. Around 2.00 pm, we officially begin Stage 3, which will take us through the Écrins for about 160 kilometres, followed by Belledonne and the Vercors.

Less than one kilometre after we set off, I fall head over heels for the Écrins. At every turn, my face lights up at the colours and the sheer scale of the mountains. You feel tiny there.

For weeks, people have been warning us about how hard the Tour des Écrins is, saying this section would be one of the toughest of the entire HexaTrek. Yet these first kilometres feel quite easy, and I am absolutely not complaining. I imagine the difficulty will ramp up over the next few days.

We reach the refuge around 4.30 pm. Roel’s friends’ concert does not start until 7.00 pm, so we have plenty of free time, at last. The refuge is full of board games, so Roel and I play a game of chess, I will keep the winner a mystery, while Hugo borrows my e reader.

After a good dinner, it is concert time. It is a special moment and it will stay a wonderful memory for a long time. For one song, Roel joins his friends with the harmonica he carries on the trail. Two little children, about two years old, dance to the rhythm and steal the show all by themselves, making everyone laugh. The musicians play along, dancing with them too. This group walks from refuge to refuge with their instruments, putting on an evening performance for hikers with wide eyes, and even wider smiles.

After the concert, we head to our tents to sleep. I fall asleep quickly, but around midnight a bright light wakes me. It takes me a few minutes to realise it is coming from the full moon. The light is so intense it feels like daytime.

I step out of the tent, take a quick photo, and go straight back to sleep. Tomorrow, a big day awaits.

Day 80: Lakes, Mileage and a Goodbye

The next morning, I set off around 9.30 am, I admit it, far too late. Hugo has already been gone for at least an hour, but Roel is still here saying goodbye to his friends. The forecast promises a full week of sunshine in the Écrins. That makes planning much easier, no pressure about where we will pitch our tents over the next few days.

I start the day with Roel. Unfortunately, he feels just as exhausted as in recent days and he has decided to stop for a few days in Monêtier les Bains, only a few hours’ walk from where we are now. He will see how the fatigue evolves and then decide whether to continue through the Écrins, rejoin us later, or go straight to Stage 5. It is sad to know we are about to say goodbye, we have been a lovely little trio for weeks.

This morning, the views are dazzling, like almost every day on the HexaTrek. Except, of course, for the second half of Stage 4. We pass countless alpine lakes with colours ranging from turquoise to the softest pale blue.

On the trail, a park employee gives me a little briefing on patous, the livestock guardian dogs we are likely to encounter often over the next few days. They are trained to deter wolf packs attacking sheep. There have already been several attacks this season, so they are on high alert. Patous do not usually attack hikers, but you must be careful not to show any sign of aggression to avoid provoking them.

After an incredible morning, we reach a small village near Monêtier les Bains, where we meet Hugo again. We share one last meal together, the three of us. Hugo sets off a little before us, and after about fifteen minutes of walking, it is time to say goodbye to Roel. It is genuinely sad, we would have loved to keep walking as our little group for longer. I wish him good luck and carry on.

Originally, I wanted to do a twenty kilometre day and bivouac on the Col de l’Eychauda. But looking at the next few days, I realise the elevation gain is about to become brutal. It makes more sense to push on, especially since that col is a bit disappointing. The famous lake up there looks more like a half drained swimming pool. Charming.

So I keep going. I notice there is a refuge eleven kilometres further on, but the HexaTrek app says bivouacking is not allowed nearby. I decide to check anyway by calling the hostel directly. And bingo. There was a change of owner two years ago and he tells me there is a tent spot for just four euros, with showers, electricity and toilets included. Sold. The thought of a proper hot shower makes it an obvious goal for the day. I text Hugo, but I cannot reach him, his phone is on aeroplane mode.

It is already 5.00 pm and I still have more than eleven kilometres to go. Luckily, it is mostly downhill, so it should be manageable. I meet a trio hiking the GR54 and walk with them for a few minutes. They met Hugo a few hours earlier and are very curious about the HexaTrek.

Around 6.00 pm, I am seriously hungry. I still have a good eight kilometres left and I hesitate about stopping. Then, as if by magic, a few minutes later I spot a table sitting right in the middle of the trail. Right, that is a sign. The table is inviting me to stop, or it is just an excuse I invented to take a break.

Hugo keeps telling me that lucky things always happen to me on this adventure. Quick anecdote from Stage 4 so you can see what he means. I was walking with Alex and I said, “Damn, I’ll have to buy toilet paper, I’ve run out.” Ten minutes later, what do I find in the middle of the trail? A brand new roll of toilet paper. If that is not a ridiculous coincidence, I do not know what is.

Anyway, back to today. I sit at the table and start eating. A few minutes later, I see Hugo coming down the trail. He sits too, and I sell him on my bivouac plan, placing heavy emphasis on the hot shower included in the four euros, an argument that often convinces hikers to walk a few extra kilometres.

Hugo agrees. After dinner, we set off again together. This evening walk flies by and in no time we arrive at the refuge. The owner welcomes us warmly and shows us the bivouac area, which feels more like a campsite, there is even a proper wash block. Brilliant, and we are alone. To sum up: a private little campsite for four euros a night. A great deal. We congratulate ourselves on a big thirty one kilometre day, then head straight to bed.

Day 81: The Écrins Are Exhausting, Hugo’s Scare and a Quebec Accent

After yesterday’s long day, we set the alarm for 7.00 am. We continue towards Vallouise to resupply for the days ahead. I should mention that I am terrible at estimating food and I always end up carrying too much. Sorry, legs. This time is no exception and my bag feels incredibly heavy. With all the elevation gain planned today, it is going to be great fun. Sarcasm intended.

Around 10.00 am, again too late, oops, we finally get back on the trail, which passes by a camping area. At an intersection, we realise the path we are meant to take is blocked off with red tape saying do not enter. Right. I should mention this is not the first time we have seen a blocked section. Usually it is nothing serious, like a fallen tree, and we have been rebels from day one, ducking under the barrier. This time is no exception. We bend down and slip under the tape.

That is when we discover the true difficulty of the Écrins. After a few kilometres on a flat path that gives no hint of what is coming, a turn leads us into a climb so steep I have rarely seen anything like it. Here, you cannot go straight up, you have to use the crab technique, walking sideways. Obstacles are everywhere: stepping over a huge boulder, squeezing under a fallen trunk, and more. After one kilometre of hard slog, we understand why the trail is closed: the bridge that should have taken us across the river was swept away in torrential rain a few weeks ago. That will teach us to be stubborn. Or not.

I look at Hugo and he seems to be thinking exactly what I am: there is no chance we are turning back. I like the crab technique, but not enough to do it in reverse. So we look for a safer crossing where the current is weaker and attempt to ford the river.

I go first and apart from the water being freezing, everything goes fine. Then it is Hugo’s turn and he ends up with water up to his hips. I enjoy my small advantage of having long legs. Sorry Hugo.

The day is far from over. We still have two passes to reach, followed by a long descent. After a quick lunch, we set off towards the Col de l’Aup Martin. On the way, we pass an unstaffed refuge. Hugo, noticing a smell of manure outside, decides to keep going, while I step inside to cool down in the shade. The hut is lovely and it even has an upper floor with sleeping mats. Given how tired I am, that is enough for me to decide to take a nap. I make myself comfortable and drift off. In total, I stay almost an hour and a half. I set off again around 4.30 pm. Oops, I lingered a bit. Time to climb again.

The ascent is brutally demanding. Thankfully, the sun is a little less intense now and the heat is more bearable. In the final section, you must not slip. If you do, a long fall awaits.

After two sweaty hours, I reach the top. Starving, I take the time to make a sandwich. From where I am, I can see the second pass, about a kilometre away. I spot a shape in the distance and although I feel it might be Hugo, I cannot confirm it, there is no signal.

I reach the second pass quite late and I am surprised I still have not seen Hugo. I check for any signal and switch on my satellite phone. That is when I see several messages, including some from Hugo, worried about me. It is the first time I have taken a nap in the middle of the afternoon and since he thought I was right behind him, he feared something had happened. I reply immediately that I am fine. He answers that he is about a hundred metres below the pass where I am. I go down to meet him and we continue together to the Pré de la Chaumette Refuge. Given the late hour, we are alone on the trail and we enjoy a magical light on our way to the refuge.

When we arrive, I hear two hikers talking. At first I am not entirely sure, but very quickly I catch the Quebec accent. I turn to them and ask, “Are you from Quebec?” They look at me in a way that suggests it is definitely not the first time they have been asked that. In fact, it is probably the question I have been asked most often on this trail. They nod, and I blurt out, “Me toooooo!” Sorry for the excitement, but I had not met any compatriots in months. Hugo and I sit at their table and the conversation takes off. It is funny, I realise how much my accent and Quebec expressions have softened over the past weeks. It takes just these two Quebecers to bring my natural way of speaking back in seconds. We laugh, swap stories and spend a brilliant evening joking about the differences between French and Quebec expressions.

After a good dinner and a very long day, it is already time for bed. The Écrins are a constant succession of steep climbs and vertiginous descents, so it is best to rest as much as possible.