Chamonix Sans Skis
Mont Blanc has more than one thrill up its sleeve
The first glimpse I got of the Alps was a dark, looming shadow behind rows of scattered homes. We were driving from Geneva, Switzerland to the small French town of Chamonix following the several hour ride on the TGV. It was around 21:00. If I hadn’t known better, I would have assumed the shadow in the skyline was an impending group of stormclouds.
We settled into our cozy hotel after finding some mouth-watering comfort food at a nearby restaurant. Our room embodied my vision of a ski-bum hangout; a large neon wall light, a cow-hide rug, a small tea set, and a balcony with a view that makes you look into the sky. And yet, we weren’t ski bums.
The next morning, we rose with the sun and prayed the weather would be perfect. We were set to paraglide around 9:00 and would take the cable car to Aiguille du Midi afterwards. This was entirely dependent on the very temperamental wind and fog, and we were anxious to get going. One look out of our balcony and any confidence we had left dissipated. The mountains were barely visible through a layer of fog that had risen through the night.
Fortunately, it began to clear and our appointment was pushed until noon. After a cozy morning in the hotel with hot coffee and bowls of fruit, we set off for our adventure. Unfortunately, studying abroad did not allow me to bring the best range of clothing. Considering I would soon be flying through the air, I had to pack on as many layers of possible. But the possibilities were not endless. I ended up with a strange mix between winter and spring clothing; thin gloves, a head wrap, a thermal shirt, a light sweater, a puffer jacket, leggings, and sneakers. The sneakers would quickly be regretted.
Once we were finally given the go-ahead for paragliding, everything moved very quickly. We packed into a tiny cable car with our tandem instructors and watched as they expertly maneuvered the ginormous paragliding packs onto their laps. We popped out onto snow-covered ground, and this is where the regret kicked in. In case you didn’t know, snow can easily get into sneakers and it does not feel good. We warily followed the instructors through a patch of fog and came into a clearing with a steep slope in front of us.
Within minutes of reaching our destination, we were strapped in, running towards the edge of the mountain, and flying through the air. Although we were, in fact, flying, it was not fast at all. Some might call it… gliding.
Even with the gentle speed, the cold still bit at my face. Thankfully I was given a buff to cover my neck and I had remembered sunglasses, but within seconds of taking them off for a photo, my eyes were watering. My ankles were also very cold, but that could have easily been solved by remembering that snow existed.
After landing in a clearing somewhere in the center of Chamonix, we headed over to the cable cars which would take us up Mont Blanc 3,842 meters. It was a relatively smooth, albeit crowded, ride to Aiguille du Midi with a brief stop halfway to change cars. As soon as I left the cable car, I could feel how fresh the air was. I quickly realized this was not only freshness, but that the oxygen is significantly thinner at that altitude.
With stupid confidence, I began walking at my normal pace, assuring myself the feeling would pass as I adjusted to the altitude. Once I began walking up stairs, the light-headedness hit me like nothing I’ve ever felt. I grabbed onto the railing and tried to get my bearings by breathing slowly and closing my eyes. I could feel my heart beating fast in my chest, and I’m still not sure if it was from fear or from my body trying to adjust to the new environment.
I later learned that this is called hypoxia and hypoxemia. Hypoxia is when there is a decrease of oxygen pressure in the air, and hypoxemia is when there is a decrease of oxygen pressure in the blood. The oxygen pressure is 65% at Aiguille du Midi. Our bodies are used to 100%, so it’s no wonder my body reacted the way it did. We decided to have a quick lunch at the cafeteria to relax and let ourselves adjust, and then we began slowly walking around.
Generally, I’d say I’m a pretty brave person. Aiguille du Midi tested my bravery. It has several attractions including the Altitude Zone, Espace Vertical, Espace Mont Blace, The Pipe, and the more terrifying Step Into The Void. In my own defense, I think this fear can be attributed to a comment I overheard regarding the slippers you are required to wear while “stepping into the void.” Someone said, “They just make you wear those so the glass doesn’t break. Shoes would destroy that.” I don’t know about you, but the thought of the glass, the only thing holding me above a 1,000 meter precipice, shattering moments before walking onto it does not sit well.
After walking around some more, we said goodbye to the quite literally breathtaking view and rode back to the ground. This day was completely exhausting both mentally and physically, but was equally worth it. And it was nothing some fondue and wine couldn't fix. Our dinner was the perfect, cozy end to a day in the Alps. Santé to 100% oxygen and melted cheese!
