Days 75 to 78: The End of Stage 2!

Day 75: Mont Thabor Will Have to Wait

At 5.00 am, the alarm goes off in the dormitory. As quietly as possible, Roel, Hugo and I gather our things and head to the communal kitchen area, the French term is salle hors sac, meaning a room where hikers can cook. Hugo and Roel exchange a knowing look, probably wondering why they keep agreeing to my slightly mad plans that involve getting up before dawn.

After breakfast, we start walking in the dark, our headtorches lighting the way. The sun soon rises and before long we are hiking in natural daylight.

We are about eight kilometres from the Mont Thabor Refuge. Ideally, we would have liked to bivouac there last night so we could start early for the summit. However, because of the unstable weather, the refuge was not allowing bivouacs nearby. Thunderstorms are not forecast until 5.00 pm, so even starting several kilometres away, we should have enough time to make it.

We reach the base of Mont Thabor around 11.30 am. Even at that hour, the clouds look threatening. Instinctively, I request the forecast via satellite on my emergency beacon, since I have no mobile signal out here. The report comes through quickly and I realise the forecast has changed: thunderstorms are now expected from 1.00 pm. Right, time for a group decision. Even though we could reach the summit before 1.00 pm, we would then need to walk another eight kilometres along an exposed ridge. To avoid the summit, which is an alternative route on the HexaTrek, there is a standard path that avoids the ridge walking. For me, the choice is clear. Knowing both my fear and the real danger of being high up in a storm, it is not worth risking your life for a view. There will be other views. Roel quickly agrees with me. Hugo hesitates longer because the summit really mattered to him, but in the end he decides to follow us and come back one day to do the ascent.

Even though the standard route is less exposed, I do not want to hang around. We do not even stop for lunch and we head straight back onto the trail.

The sky grows darker and darker. For me, hiking with this thunderstorm fear is complicated. It is hard to separate phobia from instinct and logic, and to know when there is real danger. I have to push my limits and set the fear aside because I do not want it to stop me from doing what I love. I try to shove it into a corner of my mind. I really do. But it is exhausting.

The standard route also climbs onto a ridge, which I did not know. Stress and adrenaline give me wings and I climb quickly, pulling well ahead of Roel and Hugo. From the top, I shout that I am carrying on without waiting because I am too scared.

Over the next hour, I overuse my satellite beacon, requesting the forecast four times. Good news, the storms have been pushed back. Still, I hate walking in that state. I am panicking. I feel like crying. I cannot wait for the forecast to stabilise again so I can properly enjoy the trail.

I finally reach the refuge around 2.00 pm. I let out a huge sigh of relief and my body loosens. I realise that since 6.00 am, I have barely drunk one bottle of water, eaten nothing but a few pieces of chocolate, and taken only one five minute break.

I spend the next hour rehydrating, making a proper meal and resting my legs. Around 3.00 pm, Roel and Hugo arrive. We ask the Drayères Refuge for the latest forecast and they announce more storms for 5.00 pm. Hugo and Roel suggest continuing on to a small shelter four kilometres from here. For me, that is a no. Enough stress for one day. I am safe here. I tell them I will meet them tomorrow at the end of Stage 2 at the Col du Lautaret. Because yes, tomorrow we finish another stage.

Roel and Hugo set off around 4.30 pm and I settle into a bivouac near the refuge. Tonight’s plan is Young Sheldon, which I downloaded earlier. I watch a few episodes and then quickly fall asleep.

Day 76: Stage 2 Ends at the Col du Lautaret

The next morning, I set off smiling. The sun is out and there are no clouds in the sky. I rediscover that joyful sense of freedom on the trail, light mentally even if my rucksack feels like it weighs three tonnes. After gaining about 400 metres over a few kilometres, the views become magnificent.

After a few hours in these stunning landscapes, I spot a hiker in the distance who reminds me of someone. He seems to think the same about me and after a few seconds I realise he is a 2023 HexaTreker I have been following on social media for months. He looks at me and says, “trek by trek?”, my Instagram name, and I recognise him: his name is Hugo. It is funny to meet purely by chance in the middle of nowhere. We chat for a few minutes, then each continue on our way.

I gradually approach the Col du Galibier. Normally, the app warns that the trail is extremely hard to follow because it is not waymarked. However, since a trail running race is taking place here tomorrow, small orange flags clearly mark the route. Lucky.

I start up the path when a familiar ache appears in my Achilles tendon. It is as if my body knows it is the end of a stage today and that I will soon take a few rest days. Almost like it is already on holiday and hidden pains suddenly come out. The same thing happened at the end of Stage 4, with my arches. Stubbornly, I had pushed through, refusing to hitchhike the last kilometres of a stage. Result: four days of forced rest with the beginnings of plantar fasciitis in both feet. I promised myself I would not repeat that mistake, so, a little bitter, I decide to hitchhike to avoid the climb up to the Col du Galibier.

A couple of restaurateurs pick me up almost immediately, and they work at a restaurant right at the top of the col. Talk about a coincidence. They generously invite me in for a coffee. As we drive up, I spot Roel climbing on foot. He looks like he is suffering on the steep ascent. I feel a bit rubbish for skipping that section, but I do not regret my decision. Health first. I still need my heels for another 1,300 plus kilometres.

In the end, around 1.00 pm, the three of us arrive at the Col du Lautaret, marking the end of Stage 2. We are all delighted to have completed another stage. Only three more for me, and four for Roel and Hugo.

We enjoy a well deserved drink at the top. Roel and I decide to leave the trail for three days and rest in Briançon, which has more shops and campsites than the col itself. Hugo, meanwhile, needs to go in the opposite direction to meet a friend.

So, hitchhiking begins. Roel and I get there thanks to the kindness of three drivers, the last one even drops us directly at the campsite. Hugo, on the other hand, has to take eight different cars to reach the village where he is meeting his friend.

In the evening, we have a burger at the campsite restaurant with another HexaTreker we meet in Briançon, as well as a few hikers doing the GR5. We do not stay up long, we are completely exhausted. Luckily, tomorrow is a rest day.

Days 77 and 78: Well Deserved Rest

Since last night, we have been staying at a small campsite close to Briançon. I make the most of my day off with a proper lie in and plenty of treats.

For weeks, I have been dreaming of a salad with watermelon, feta, cucumber and mint. Hugo and Roel know this well, as about 80 percent of my trail conversations revolve around food. So today is the day I make it, to celebrate our static day, because between us, carrying a watermelon on the trail is not exactly ultralight.

Roel and I quickly realise just how drained we are from the past few days, to the point that we start wondering whether we have caught a virus. But there are no other symptoms besides fatigue, so it is probably just exhaustion.

Since we have two rest days in a row, we book a massage to loosen our tight muscles. It feels unbelievably good between stages.

In two days, we will head back up to the Col du Lautaret and do a short seven kilometre day to reach a refuge where Roel’s friends will be giving a music concert. They go from refuge to refuge and in exchange for a bed and a meal, they perform in the evening. I cannot wait to hear them play.