Chamonix - Part Deux

Just as perfect as Sunday was for skiing, Monday was equally imperfect, but deceptively so. From the valley where our hotel was, it looked fine - not sunny, but not raining either. We hurriedly ate breakfast and began the journey to get to the mountain (which is quite a workout itself). We decided to try another mountain that was rumored to have a variety of runs, including nice wide ones for beginners. We finally arrived and once in the gondola on the way up, we saw the visibility diminishing right before our eyes. Hmmm. The gondola took us about halfway, then a chairlift took us the rest of the way. Here is a picture from our chairlift:



Ahhhhhhhhh! We had never been to this mountain before and we could barely see 15 feet in front of us! Ascending in the chairlift we heard the skiers beneath us, but when we looked down, all we saw was white. Kind of eerie, kind of exhilarating at the same time. We decided the best strategy would be to take the easiest trail we could find, stick close to the marker poles, and Pat would lead (supposedly slowly). Off into the abyss we went! Looking back at it, I can say it was fine, because all’s well that ends well, right? But while we were trekking (it would not be fair to call what we were doing skiing) down that mountain it was freaking scary! At some points there were other people around, but most of the time it was just the two of us and whole lot of whiteness. There were parts that had marker poles on both sides, but one part only had marker poles on one side and I sure did hug that side! But suddenly I was going kind of fast toward the other side and was afraid I wouldn’t have room to turn, so down I went. When Pas asked why, I said “I think that is a cliff and I didn’t want to go over!” I know he was rolling his eyes underneath those goggles, even though I couldn’t see it. Here is a picture I took of Pat to show you all just how little we could see:



Halfway down we had decided that once (if) we made it to the gondola, we take it all the way to the bottom and just go home. This was not fun at all and kind of scary. But by the time we made it to that point, we realized that it had not been that bad and maybe we should give another go. The second time was much better! We were still literally in the clouds, but we had a little more confidence about where we were going, we found another (easier) path, and we found a rope pull part of the way down. And we were pretty much the only people on the run! No lines and no people to maneuver around (which was the really unnerving part about the first run)! It was like we were on an exploration expedition! As you can see from this picture, we found the humor in the situation:



So we kept doing the same run over and over, a little faster and more confident each time (i.e., Pat was leaving me in the dust!). And then all of the sudden, in the blink of an eye, there was light! And we could see! IT WAS AMAZING! For the first time, I truly understood the Biblical verse from Genesis, “And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.” I wish I had a picture to show you (and for our scrapbook), but within a blink of an eye, the white abyss had engulfed us again. That brief lightness gave us the hope that if might come back and perhaps it would stay a bit longer next time? And it also gave us a glimpse at the run we had been skiing from memory. I have to tell you that my instincts were correct. When I meet up with Pat at the rope pull the first thing he said to me was “I guess you were right, you didn’t want to go over that edge!”

It ended up being an amazing day, but in a totally different way than the day before. We did several more runs and stopped for a chocolat chaud (me!) and then did a couple more before we headed home for the day. Our grand finale dinner at La Taverne awaited us!! This time we were a little more indulgent (we needed to celebrate our triumph over the weather!) and ordered the fromage fondue and a filet de beouf. Yum! And the filet came with frites! I have to admit, it made for delicious “cheese fries”!

The next day was cloudy again, so we opted to return our skis and walk around Chamonix to soak it up before we left. It was an amazing weekend and first skiing experience for me. Pat admitted that the scenery was beautiful and the town rightfully boasted fabulous “après- ski”, but I think he was still harbors loyalty for skiing in the great American West. I loved the international feel in Chamonix, it made the idyllic setting seem like more like a fantasy. But my main question regarding future ski trip destinations: Colorado might be the best skiing in the world, but do they have fromage fondue???