Trans'Alpes: 21 days of skyrunning across the Alps
- Olivier_EMOTIONALPINE
- Nov 15
- 6 min read
July 10, 2022, 3:30 PM. I leave the shores of Lake Geneva for an adventure that will continue to inspire me long after my return. The goal? To reach the Mediterranean by trail running, taking circuitous routes. Off-trail, I should say, since the spirit of the Trans'Alpes is to run as close as possible to glaciers, scree slopes, and forgotten ridgelines.
Competitions never really appealed to me. Yet, the spirit of adventure and a love of the Alps shape my life. Like a magnet, I've been drawn to the mountains since my Mediterranean birthplace. I've also fulfilled a few mountaineering fantasies: climbing the Matterhorn, the most beautiful mountain in the world, skiing Mont Blanc, discovering the joys of rock climbing, and exploring the Pamir Mountains in Central Asia.
But the truth is, what makes me happiest, by far, is running through mountains. Soaking up the scenery and being in motion, minimalist. Without any interfaces with the mountain, you feel a deeper connection to it.
Completing a Lake Geneva -> Mediterranean crossing by trail via the Trans'Alpes therefore represents the quintessence of what thrills me: Autonomy, the absence of superfluity, terrains as technical as possible, nights in refuges, not forgetting sunsets galore... And the Mediterranean of my childhood as a horizon.
The first few days: Trail running, but chill.
Leaving Lake Geneva in the afternoon, my plan was to stop for the night at the Dent d'Oche refuge, which overlooks the lake from a rocky outcrop and offers a truly memorable view. That's my idea of aesthetics. It's rather strange; from the very first kilometers, I feel like I'm on a classic trail run, something I do every day. The only difference is that I don't know the terrain, and the sweltering heat makes me stop at every water source "just in case."
This first stage did not disappoint me. So much so that this moment, and the Chablais massif, will remain a highlight of this crossing.
From the very first kilometers the next day, I was surprised by the technical nature of the terrain. It was going to be difficult to make good progress on this stage. I could clearly see the valley below where I was supposed to be going, but evidently the route creator had chosen exposed ridges rather than the traditional GR trails.
This is just a prelude to what awaits me. In reality, this day will be rather "easy" compared to the next 20 days.
In the following days, I stop whenever I feel like it for a nap in the alpine meadows, a swim in a stream, or a Coke on the terrace of a mountain refuge. I have no time constraints, and I don't see this adventure as a challenge.
In fact, messages like "good luck with your CHALLENGE" exasperate me (even if I appreciate the intention). It's as if everything in the mountains, and especially in trail running, has to be about performance and conquest, and I'm put in this box where I don't recognize myself. Sometimes I feel like the people around me don't understand that I do things for what they are: because it's beautiful, because I'm happy up there, and because I run for the movement.
However, at the end of the first week I realized I had never covered so many kilometers and so much elevation gain in such a short period of time.
Mountains and friends.
While this type of adventure may seem solitary, I remember that the most beautiful moments are those that were shared.
I'm thinking in particular of the evening at the Col de Balme refuge . This refuge, located right on the Franco-Swiss border, offers one of the most beautiful views of Mont Blanc. It's run by Henry, whom I've known for years. In fact, it was with his son, Pierre, that I first reached the summit of Mont Blanc. I could have slept at home in Les Houches, not far from there, but going back down to the valley was out of the question. It would have been like stepping out of this parenthesis, out of this immersion in nature.
So, some of my closest friends joined me at the Col de Balme for the evening. I wasn't expecting so many people to make the trip, as many were in the middle of their work season.
A little further on in Tignes, Jean-Baptiste will join me for three days of running on the Haute Route. JB is a high-mountain guide (check out his website for your vertical adventures), and particularly skilled at climbing. I must admit, having him come to assess the technical difficulty of the terrain myself was a real pleasure!
In fact, when JB joined me, my body was still adapting to this continuous effort, with quite a bit of pain in my feet. The support was greatly appreciated!
My brother also joined me in the Queyras for an evening at a gîte. Thanks to him for bringing me new shoes!
One might have thought that the sharing would also extend to the hikers encountered along the way? Absolutely not! Over the 21 days of the trek, I only met four people doing the same route. That's with the exception of those I shared meals with in the mountain huts.
In the end, not so peaceful after all.
I am very grateful for everything that happened to me during this crossing of the Western Alps.
It was as if everything was perfectly in place, without a hitch, allowing me to fully experience this adventure. I was always able to book my nights in mountain huts almost at the last minute. Except for the Refuge des Merveilles, in the valley of the same name in the Mercantour National Park. I knew this hut was incredibly popular. It was the last one before the sea. So I tried to book in advance... only to end up getting the last available spot for a two-week period! The problem? I still had to traverse the entire Queyras, Ubaye, Argentera, and Mercantour mountain ranges from north to south. That meant covering 255km and 17,500m of elevation gain in one week, on terrain so technically challenging that it would be impossible to organize a trail race there.
And you know what? It went really well. It's amazing how the body adapts, sometimes beyond what logic would dictate. I still don't understand how and why my body never felt like it was overexerting itself during that last week. (I do have a theory, though: the insane amount of calories I consumed at each refuge or village I passed through, combined with the previous two weeks which allowed my body to adapt.)
Practical information
For those wondering how such a crossing can be organized as a trail run, without logistical support, here are some answers:
For overnight stays: In mountain huts, then.
For food: Dinner was included in the price. During the day, packed lunches were ordered from the refuge the previous evening and supplemented with food from other establishments encountered along the route, whenever possible. Chocolate bars and peanuts were purchased in the few villages we passed through.
For hygiene: A shower every evening (the shelters have been modernized) and laundry at the end of each stage. The ritual.
What equipment? A highly optimized 8-litre trail running bag: Everything was there to get through storms at altitude.
Any unexpected problems? Yes, the water filter's threads broke in the first few days. I ordered another one online and it was delivered to a shop I was passing by. I also got sick, which forced me to take a day off work.
What distance / Elevation gain? 650km and 45,000m+ But honestly that doesn't mean much on this type of terrain.
Key moments
The first sunset at the Dent d'Oche refuge
The climb to the "Pas du Taureau" from Switzerland, towards the Dents Blanches, where I truly understood the spirit of this Haute Route (although in retrospect, it was far from being the most technical part).
Friends are coming to the Col de Balme!
And my brother's towards Abriès
The start of day 19: 10km in 4h00 without taking a break, all those rocky sections were becoming ridiculous.
The "Crest of Glaciers" in the Mercantour
All those moments of happiness in the mountains, brought about by the chaotic atmosphere of the route and the landscapes. Impossible to choose a particular moment, it's the whole experience.
The last summit before the sea, in memory of Patrick BERHAULT
Conclusion
I hope this experience will encourage some to rethink trail running as a discipline that pushes towards Adventure with an A. Trail running is not just about data and race numbers, it is above all a connection between oneself and the mountain.
Feel free to contact me or leave a comment with any questions or remarks about this Trans'Alpes trip. And if the adventure appeals to you, I can share my experience, organize and ensure your safety so you can experience unforgettable moments in the mountains!
For example: The Grand Tour of the Chamonix Valley by Trail
Good run!
Olivier, Trail & Trekking Guide
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