Mt. Blanc

I arrived into Chamonix mid morning to find the place packed. It soon became apparent that something big was going on as I struggled with bumper-to-bumper traffic finally finding a parking spot some distance from the center of the city. I joined the masses and walked towards the noise – thousands of people cheering and most ringing cow bells. This was the finish for the North Face Ultra Trail Du Mont Blanc. This amazing race started Friday night for a 166 km (103 mile) circuit on trails and cross-country to circumnavigate the Mt. Blanc mountain range. In the process the competitors go through three countries (France, Italy, and Switzerland) and climb and drop over 9,400 meters (or 30,840 feet). To put this in perspective, Mt. Everest is a little over 8,000 meters (29,000 feet). The winner made it back in 21 hours! I was there mid morning Sunday as many bloody, muddy, battered, bruised, but delighted to have finished athletes from all over the world made their way to the finish line. It was a great festive and supportive feel to the finish line celebrations – not unlike the Coast-to-Coast for those of you reading this from New Zealand.

Watching the finish of the Ultra Trail Du Mont Blanc Race.

While these incredible athletes has run around the mountain, my desire was to climb to its summit. Mont Blanc or Monte Bianco (French and Italian, respectively), means white mountain. It is also sometimes known as "La Dame Blanche" (in French, the white lady). It is the highest mountain in France (and a point a few feet lower from the summit on the south ridge is the highest point in Italy) and in Western Europe. It rises 4,810 meters (15,781 feet) above sea level and is ranked 11th in the world in topographic prominence, a measure of the un-interrupted height of a mountain from base to summit. Mt. Elbrus in Russia close to the border with Georgia in the Caucasus Mountain Range is the official highest point of Europe at 5,621 meters (18,442 feet).

If you are a player (or fan) of baseball, then a visit to Cooperstown in New York where the sport was first played is a desired pilgrimage. Similarly, for tennis, to Wimbledon; for rugby, to Rugby School in England; and Springfield, Massachusetts for basketball. For mountaineering, Chamonix and Mt. Blanc are often considered the home of climbing. The peak was first climbed on the 7th August 1786 by two local Chamonix men, Jacques Balmat and Doctor Marie-Gabreil Paccard. After them many started using local men who hiked up into the mountains looking for valuable rock crystals to guide and assist in their bid for the summit. The Compagnie des Guides de Chamonix started to meet this need and is the oldest and largest mountaineer guide service in the world. Check out their webpage for a fascinating look at the history of both the mountain and its famous guiding company.
Of the five guiding companies in town I chose to visit the famous Compagnie des Guides de Chamonix. Their office is right on the main town square. I was asked a lot of questions about my climbing background, skills, and equipment. Then I was told that there might be a guide available and I could probably climb in the coming two or three days. I was instructed to be back at 6:45pm. When I showed up at this time I meet my guide Pierre. He was 50, looked in incredible shape, but said very little other than we were go at 7:45 tomorrow morning.

There are five main routes to the summit of Mt. Blanc. The most common is the “Gouter or Ordinary Route”. This route is often crowded. I wanted to try a more challenging route but especially less busy route. Pierre suggested at this time of year and for a one-day climb the Three Monts Route would be best. This route is also known as The Trois-Mont-Blanc’s (The Three-Mont-Blanc’s) route and the “Traverse of the 4000ers”. The guide book I bought states that the route is “extremely aesthetic but it is both technically and physically much more demanding than the Gouter Route or ordinary route”.

I bought my last minute supplies (ice ax, chocolate, bottled water – but forgetting sun screen which would prove to be a costly and painful mistake) on Sunday evening. I didn’t have the time or inclination to find a camping site so I parked my car in what looked like an unofficial free parking lot beside the school. It was a warm night so I just lay out under the stars in my sleeping bag and bivy bag. Morning brought a great sunrise over the peak I would soon be climbing. A 15 minute walk through town (a little weird to be wearing plastic climbing boots as people walked to work) to the cable car station.

A large number of other people, many climbers similarly fully attired with harness on even were already there. This is part of the attraction of Chamonix for climbing in that you can take the cable car right to the high peaks, climb all day, and return by cable car to the village for a meal in a nice restaurant and bed in a hotel. The cable car is quite some amazing piece of engineering. The Téléphérique de l'Aiguille du Midi, was built in 1955 and held the title of the world's highest cable car for about two decades. It still holds the record as the highest vertical ascent cable car in the world, from 1,035m (3,395 feet) to 3,842m (12, 637 feet). It travels from Chamonix to the top of a mountain peak called the Aiguille du Midi – an altitude gain of over 2,800 m (9,186 feet) – in 20 minutes. An adult ticket from Chamonix is €40 return ($57 US).

I bought my ticket (mountain guides gets to ride free) and we were on the first ride up of the day at 8:10am. We changed cable cars at the mid-station and onto the top station. The Aiguille summit contains a panoramic viewing platform, a café, and a gift shop. From the Aiguille another cable car (summer months only) crosses the Glacier de Geant to Point Helbronner at the Italian side of the Mont Blanc Massif. Point Helbronner is served with a cable car from La Palud, a village near Courmayeur in the Aosta Valley (Italy). The name "Aiguille du Midi" translates literally as "needle of midday". It is so called because the sun sits directly over the peak at noon when viewed from Chamonix.

We followed a footbridge across to the southern summit where a tunnel through the rock leads out onto the north-east ridge. In winter skiers use the same departure point for the famous The Vallée Blanche ski run which is an incredible 22 km (13.7 miles) long.

Following Pierre out onto the ridge.

This next section contains mountaineering terms you may not be familiar with – so click here for a helpful climbing glossary.  We put our crampons on, roped up, and headed down the very steep ridge. I’ve climbed a few places with what climbers call exposure (i.e., a big drop). But this was incredible with the sheer drop off on the right down the slopes of Aiguille Du Midi to Chamonix below. The drop on the left wasn’t as long, as a screamer (long fall) would eventually bringing you to a stop on the Vallée Blanche on the French/Italian border. But falling was not an option! So on safely down to the flatter area of the vast Col du Midi. This col (French word for pass) is almost like a huge plateau. Although it was heavily crevassed requiring a few big jumps to get across. Pierre barely slowed his pace as he leapt across but with me walking behind him I was a little anxious at times to keep up and yet be sure I had jumped far enough to clear the drop. As with many crevasses on a huge glacier, you could not see the bottom as it disappeared into a blue then black ice void. Sadly, a few months earlier the former Olympic gold medal winner in snowboarding Karine Ruby, and trainee guide fell in one these epic crevasses with her two clients, she and one of them died.

Crossing crevasses on the Col du Midi.

We passed by the impressive and famous rock climbing area of the South Face of the Aiguille du Midi and after crossing the col began the steep climb up the North Face of Mt. Blanc du Tacul. Some huge seracs in this section and the pace quickened even more so we could pass through this section that is not without objective dangers. Finally we took a very brief break having reached the shoulder at 4,120 meters.

Our first (brief) rest stop - looking back down across the Col towards Aiguille du Midi. 

Most parties do not actually go the final few feet to the peak of the two lower mountains passed on the way to the summit, and we carried on this tradition. Having gained all this height we now lost some as we descended the easy slopes towards the Col Maudit (4,035m). The North face of Maudit looked very steep from the Col.

The North face of Maudit.

The guide books grades this as PD+ with a 40 degrees inclination near the top. The step section had fixed ropes although Pierre hollowed at me not to pull on them (apparently, and I didn’t learn this until we were coming back down, he thought there were old and not trust worthy). A mixture of ice and rock made this section a bit sporty. Other parties both came up and down while we were in this section with there being no etiquette for waiting from what I could tell. What with the two old fixed ropes and the ropes of the other parties along with our own it became a confusing and little risky in my mind.

Pierre leading the second of the two pitches of mixed ice/rock on north face of Mt Maudit.

Having reached the Col du Mont Maudit at 4,345 meters we traversed along the south-west slopes to reach yet another vast pass – this time the Col de la Brenva at 4,303.

Heading towards the Col de la Brenva.

I had been asking Pierre could we stop for a break as I was hot and thirsty. In a little while was always the reply. Along the way as he bolted up some sections at a quickened pace the slack in the rope between us would inevitably go and he would shout back to me to keep up, or note that my technique on steep sections was poor. He had previously explained the essence of French climbing style is “economie”. I have been taught and it is drilled in my head to always have your ice axe in the uphill hand so should you fall you can then self-arrest. As we zigzagged up these steep sections he told me in no uncertain terms to stop changing ski pole and ice axe on each turn as it was slowing us down. Finally he steep off the trail and dropped his pack for a snack. The view up the very long slope towards the Mt. Blanc peak was hard to see as I was already getting pretty tired. 

The view of Mt. Blanc from the Col de la Brenva.

But amazing after just one minute of resting he was putting it back on. I had time just to take the photo above and grab a quick sip of water.  So I replied; “Pierre, no – I need more break”. He got a little angry and said “OK – one minute more.” I was so flustered by this that I forgot to take off my jacket. It was now late morning on a beautiful sunny day and getting quite hot. Once underway, I immediately knew my error would lead to overheating. I tried to wait as long as I could but after five minutes from our break I told Pierre I needed to stop to remove my jacket. He screamed “No”. I replied forcefully, “Yes – or I will dehydrate”. He stopped and as I removed my jacket he down climbed. He told stood just above me and said “you are a poor climber with bad techniques, you are lazy, and you have no will. If you stop again, we turn around and go down!” Well, I know my climbing technique needs more refinement and I guess I can be lazy, but lacking will – I don’t think so. This made me a little angry. I said nothing, stuffed my jacket in my pack, and said, “let’s go”!

Up the long sustained slope of the Mur de la Cote to 4,485 then past the Petits Rochers Rouges at 4,577 and then a group of rocks known as the Petits Mulets at 4,690. My legs were screaming and lungs straining to suck in air at that altitude – but I was going to show this Frenchman that this Kiwi/America climber does NOT lack will.

No more up! The peak of Mt. Blanc.

Then, quite suddenly the steepness eased and the summit ridge of Mt. Blanc was there, we had arrived at 4,808 meters (15, 774 feet). One solo climber joined us having arrived via the Ordinary Route. We topped out at 1:30pm having made the journey in a respectable 5.5 hours. The other climber took a photo of Pierrre and me then as he left, Pierre steeped off the windy and cold ridge for me to “savor the summit”.

Guide Pierre and me on top of Mt. Blanc.

“Savoring the summit” - Mt. Blanc at 4,810 meters (15,781 feet) .

The views were incredible. To the west down to Chamonix Valley almost directly below us, to the distant north the massive mountain of Monte Rosa and nearby the rocky spire of the Matterhorn in Switzerland. To the east the very steep drop off down the Italian side and way off to the south the blue of Lack Geneva. And all around me the famous peaks of the Alps. Even though it was my first time the view was funnily familiar as I’ve seen so many of these remarkable mountains in climbing books and magazines. It was truly a feeling of standing on top of the world.

Of course, having reached the summit we then had the long return. This route is demanding because in both going up and down there are sections of up and down. My legs were incredibly tired on the steep down slopes (I was actually faster on the uphills). I said to Pierre that I was pretty exhausted and was going as fast as I could. “I too am very tired” was the reply. I was sure we would rappel (abseil) the section with fixed lines and the other parties I seen decending had. But no, I was told to lead this section so he could stop a fall and was instructed to go down face first not my preferred down-climbing style.

Looking back up the steep section of Mt. Maudit after our descent.

Our desire to make it back before the last cable car looked in jeopardy. So about halfway back Pierre said that we would stay in the hut. We went all the way back but the last 45 minutes where a short side track took us up a steep slope to where the Cosmiques Hut sits on a rocky ridge.

Refuge des Cosmiques (Cosmique Hut) at 3,613 m.

Sign by the door of Refuge des Cosmiques.

This massive hut holds 145 and has a full time staff over the summer climbing season of cooks, cleaners, and front desk folks. The hut is run by Compagnie des Guides de Chamonix. This is a bit of a racket as camping on the mountain is prohibited so you either do an incredibly hard one day climb or make plans to stay. Climbers have make reservations (weeks if not months in advance). Pierre had called the hut on the night before we left and was told it was full but if there were folks who did not show they would hold the space – luckily there were two empty bunks. The cost was incredibly high in my mind – 50 Euro for me and 35 for Pierre (which I had to pay). In return we were provided with bedding (a small pillow and thick wool blanket) sleeping in tiered bunks three high. Also two meals, firstly dinner (soup with tome cheese – I had never heard of this cheese with a heavy rind but it is delicious), pasta, chicken, and breaded cauliflower. If you wanted water, well they charged you 5 Euro for a liter bottle. I drank two. Breakfast, at 7:30 after a decent sleep, consisted of bread, cereal, juice and a huge soup bowl of very strong coffee.

Dinner time at Refuge des Cosmiques.

We headed back towards the cable car. I felt great on fresh legs and it was a cool but beautiful morning. I joked with Pierre about how he had talked to me and asked if he had a psychology degree as he got a response from me that got a level of performance I wasn’t sure I was capable of making. He was a lot more reasonable and seemed genuinely happy in our success in reaching the summit – the 25th time for him. We reached the cable car and then quickly descended and were back in the village by 9:30. I paid him the money owed and we bid farewell while I went off to find a hotel to crash at for a couple of days.

Back at Aiguille du Midi - looking back up at Mt. Blanc.

I have had a few days now to reflect on this experience. I’ve climbed with several American (and one Ecuadorian) mountain guides and rate them all as excellent. They were kind, compassionate, and always put safety first. Was Pierre rude, mean, and willing to take un-needed risks or was he simply a French mountain guide? He comes from one of the oldest and rigorous guiding organizations in the world so he surely meets every requirement for being qualified and knowledgeable of the local Alps.  I believe he quickly summed up my strengths and weaknesses and then altered his attitude to get a desired level of performance from me.  Would an American guide do this – I don’t think so but then this is France. I have come to respect and admire Pierre for he got us to the roof of the European Alps and back down safely. And he provided me with not just another country summit (this brings my country highpoint total to 11) but an experience I will always treasure. Merci, merci beaucoup Guide Pierre.

Resting my blistered feet back at a hotel in Chamonix with the peak

that caused the sore feet (Mt. Blanc) seen through the window.

"Mont-Blanc and the Valley of Chamonix, and the sea of ice, and all the wonders of the most wonderful place are above and beyond one's wildest expectation. I cannot imagine anything in nature more stupendous or sublime."

 Charles Dickens, 1846.

To the Alps: Part II the Franche-Comté and Switzerland

Having crossed from the Burgundy region into the Franche-Comté I carried on in the general direction of the Alps. My guide books (I am using Lonely Planet France as well as The Rough Guide to France) suggested paying a visit to the villages of Chateau-Chalon and nearby Baume les Messieurs. In fact, Lonely Planet suggested that the first of these is probably the most picturesque village in the Franche-Comté Region, if not all of France. As you can see in the photo below; they were right.

Village of  Chateau-Chalon.

On down to the village of Baume les Messieurs which surrounds an old abbey and is located in a canyon.

This area of France is famous for steep valleys and flat plateaus above. The valleys end in spectacular cirques (or 'reculées' in French) and in some there are caves. With the heat approaching 37 C (which is about 99 Fahrenheit and unseasonably warm from what I could gather from the locals) I went on a 90 minute cave tour (where it was a cool 13 degrees C (55 F) inside). While not the biggest, deepest, or even most spectacular caves I visited (that honor belonging to Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico) I found the tour interesting. The guide only spoke in French but I was given a one page information sheet (laminated to save it from the water dripping off the roof) that explained the main features and history. Discovered in 1610, these caves were formed in the tertiary era thirty million years ago. A platform gave access to the cave some 20 meters up the cliff face. From there a long tunnel like passage opened on to 500 meters of galleries with some rooms with 30 to 80 meters high ceiling having unusual stalactites and stalagmites.

Entrance into the cave.

Up the steep road to reach the rim of the plateau then off across the country side which was now much hillier. Past the first glacial lake (Lac de Chalain) signaling I was getter ever closer to the Alps but the lake was again ringed by those expensive and crowded campgrounds. The roads now became increasingly twisty but they were magnificent for driving. A quick stop to hike to view Cascades du Herisson (an impressive waterfall). Then a great kebab dinner (these take away restaurants are really common in Europe and provide a satisfying meal) before finding another gem of a free campsite in a forest.

My morning routine is to brew up a pot of coffee on my gas camp cooker usually with a baget, some cheese, and salami type meat for breakfast. All the while my tent fly is drying to remove the night dew. Although not cold at night it has been getting cool and a very heavy dew forms before morning. Then a quick pack up (usually stuffing everything in the back of the car) and back on the road.

Today took me first to the town of Morez. This town is famous for eye glasses. Many large manufactures are headquartered here, there is a special school for learning skills for jobs in the optics industry, and the center of town houses a massive museum called Musée de la Lunette de Morez. A link to a little history on how this village in a step-sided valley in France became home to eyeware.

Leaving Morez I now entered into the mountain range (and province) known as the Haut Jura. Interestingly much of this range in part of a national park – with whole villages and towns included inside the park boundaries. I headed on my way passed fields filled with cows with their melodic clanging bells before reaching St. Claude, a town famous for diamond cutting and pipes (of the smoking variety). I paid a visit to the local diamond and pipe museum for my father’s sake (he is a jeweler and a pipe smoker). A few nights of camping had me seeking a room with a bed with a shower and I found a good rate and enjoyed the comforts of the hotel.

The following morning took me passed several ski areas and over the Col de la Faucille, a high mountain pass. I had not been paying attention to how much gas (diesel in this case) was left and now got warning beeping at me that I had only 40 kms left. My GPS showed me the closest was down the other side of the mountains across the border in Switzerland – 40 kms away. I made it with turning the engine off to coast down the hill where ever possible getting to the gas station with very little to spare. I then headed south along the lake shore to Geneva where I spent an enjoyable day wandering around the city. One of the principle tourist sites is an incredible water fountain called Jet d'Eau (or translated to Jet of Water).

Rainbow and the Jet d'Eau - Geneva.

After an amazing dinner at a small restaurant (a kind of huge salad with spiced chicken) I followed the main highway (again a toll road) towards Italy stopping to sleep in the parking lot behind the town hall in the town of Maglan. It was raining and quite late by the time I stopped so I just fully reclined the front passengers seat in the car and had a surprisingly good night’s sleep. The next morning I awoke to a clear sunny morning for a 45 minute drive into the most impressive range of mountains I’ve ever seen. I had arrived in the Alps.

To the Alps: Part I Burgundy

Having reached the source of the Seine River I now spent a few ways wandering across the French (and a little piece of Swiss) countryside towards my destination , Chamonix in the heart of the Alps. My first point of call as I passed through the Burgundy region (or Bourgogne to use the French) was a brief out-the-window look and drive-through visit to an amazingly scenic town called Semur-en-Auxois. Another hour or so south, partly on the toll highway, I pulled off thinking I could find a campsite (i.e., free) beside a lake showing on my map as Lac Panther. But I discovered that camping in France is a little different. They have these huge campsites for little RV/camper vans although, most people are like me are car camping. The cost for these camp areas (calling campings) are in the 14-20 Euro ($20 – 28.50) range just to pitch your tent. For this you get the security as these places are all fenced and have night patrols. They also come with swimming pools, recreations centers, and often a restaurant. All features I don’t really need or would use. Every inch of the lake shore was covered by a series of campings all trying to oust the competition in terms of the size of the pool, or the number of holes in their miniature golf course. So I did some exploring on back roads using my map and GPS and found a wonderful little campsite about half a mile along a grassy track leading off a country lane. There was no room for me to pull over so I hoped no cars or tractors would want past in the night and set up my tent in the dark. After a great night’s sleep I woke to find both sides of the grassy lane were covered with black berries (which I ate for breakfast along with my freshly brewed coffee).


It was then a short drive on into Dijon. I spent most of the day walking around this sizeable city of 150,000 visiting the market, a series of huge old churches, and an interesting museum called the Musée des Beaux-Arts of Dijon which has some amazingly carved tombs for early French Kings (you can see a picture of this by scrolling to end of the page under the Dijon link above). I made a special effort to see Eglise Notre Dame, a massive church built between 1220 and 1240. Major alterations were needed to the spire when in 1382 Philip the Bold (the King of France) captured a huge clock during one of his war campaigns in Flanders. Around the north side on the outside of the church (on a little lane called Rue de la Chouette) is a small stone owl (which is French is chouette) carved into the walls. It is said to grant happiness and wisdom to those who stroke it, so I joined the several other tourists and what appeared to be passing locals on their lunch break each taking our turn to touch the statue now worn smooth by countless generations seeking happy days.


With evening approaching I drove into the famous hills of the Côte-d'Or looking for a place to pitch my tent. This ridge of low limestone hills is blanketed with vineyards and is home to some of the most famous wines made in a country famous for wine. It was beautiful to drive through these little villages and up and down the valleys that bisected the ridge. But with no prospect of finding a campsite in such heavily developed land I headed through the amusing named village of Nuits-St. Georges and into what map showed was a fairly large forest. The Foret de Citeaux provided a bonanza of camping spots tucked into the woods and having found what I thought was the pick of the bunch I cooked myself a great BBQ dinner. You can by these one-time use disposable BBQ’s from gas stations. They come in a small box and all you need is a match to get them going. They even come with a bottle of water for dousing the hot embers. I had a feast of sausages of different types, fresh baget, accompanied with Dijon mustard bought earlier in the day.

The next day was a fabulous day of driving through the Burgundy country side. This was the sort of terrain that the location scouts for car commercials must seek out. Through flat farming areas vaguely reminiscent of the Canterbury Plains where I grew up in New Zealand, except for wonderful little villages all anchored by a historic old church. Across the mighty River Saône, although it is still quite small here compared to its size when it meets the River Rhone in Lyon. Shortly thereafter I passed out of Burgundy and into the Franche-Comté Region.

To the source of the Seine

The first major destination of this European adventure was to be the Alps. Looking at the map before I left the United States I saw that much of the distance between Paris and Chamonix (the most famous French town in the Alps) passed through country-side the guide books suggested had little to interest the tourist. That’s fine because I am not a tourist – I am a traveler. And a traveler can always find fascinating places to visit on any journey.

Leaving Notre Dame in the heart of Paris on Saturday afternoon (August 22) I headed south-east on a wonderful twisting, circuitous, and interesting route following the Seine River to its source. Notre Dame is on an island (Ile de la Cite) in the middle of the Seine in the very heart of this great city. A small Gallic town called Luteria was located on this island until being overrun by Julius Ceasar’s troops in 52 BC. Since then Paris has grown out from the island but the river is still very much the heart of the city. Interestingly, the name "Seine" comes from the Romans (who spoke Latin) when they Latinized “Sequana”, from the original Gaulish (who spoke Celtic) “Sicauna”, which means sacred river. The Seine is the second longest river in France (in case you are wondering …… the Loire is the longest). At Paris, the river is only 24 meters (80 feet) above sea level, but 446 km (277 miles) from its mouth in the Bay of Seine on the English Channel. The total length of the river is 776 km (486 miles).

A few years ago I visited Paris and explored most of the museums, churches, monuments, markets, etc, so I decided to get underway with my driving adventure. I started off heading the wrong way (on purpose) by going down stream as I wanted to drive past the other amazing sites of Paris that line the river (roughly in the order as I passed); the Pont Neuf bridge built in 1607, the Louvre, the Musee D’Orsay, and my favorite, the Eiffel Tower. I’ll never forget the sight as I drove along the river bank and looked in the rear-vision mirror and there was the Eiffel Tower. I then cut across the city on the Peripherique (just like a ring Interstate around US cities) experiencing some freighting driving etiquette, or lack thereof, to meet the river again near the town of Evry. Past the headquarters of the Renault Formula 1 team (more on this in a future blog) then to Melum followed by a short detour to Fontainebleau.

This small town is home to INSEAD "Institut Européen d'Administration des Affaires" – one of the world’s leading business schools. Yet, it is more well know for an amazingly vast chateau that traces its origins back to the 12th Century. But in the 1500s it was transformed into a royal palace that I think is the equal of the more famous Versailles. Every French ruler, from King Louis XVI to Emperor Napoleon felt the need to embellish the works of their predecessor and spent enormous sums of money on it. I did the tour with one of those audio guides pressed to my ear learning a great deal about its history. Then a wander through the beautiful gardens on a warm sunny afternoon. Check out this link for more information on the Palace of Fontainebleau


I rejoined the river after passing through the gorgeous town of Moret-sur-Loing which features in the paintings of many of the French Impressionists (Monet, Renoir, Sisley, etc). With the daylight fading I drove through the farm fields that parallel the river in its broad valley up to Bray-sur-Seine. I crossed the river and followed an unsigned dirt road heading off into a forest. It lead to a wonderful campsite that was exactly 10cm (6 inches) from the river bank. It was just dark as I finished pitching my new tent for the first time (I’d always recommend practicing setting up a new tent before you are being eaten by bugs at dusk in a strange country after this experience). In the morning I was thinking what amazingly good fortune to find a free and wonderful riverside camp spot. Then not more 500 meters away I saw the massive cooling towers of a nuclear power plant (I guess the forest was some sort of protective buffer area!). I bought a portable camp stove in Paris and brewed up a wonderful cup of coffee (hoping the river water wasn’t radioactive – talk about getting a buzz from caffeine). Then it was off following the river ever upstream.

My first campsite: Beside the Seine beside the nuclear power station.

 In a few kilometers (yeah it is great to be back using the metric system again) the river makes a big turn towards the south at Marcille-sur-Seine and I passed through a string of little villages before arriving into the city of Troyes. This historic city was a real unexpected joy to explore. Highlights included an amazing museum dedicated to the preservation of the tools of manual work (check out their excellent website here: Troyes Tool and Trade Museum) and the Cathédrale Saint-Pierre-et-Saint-Paul de Troyes which was home to the Order of the Knights Templar. Troyes is also home to the production for many French clothing manufactures, including Lacoste, and I visited a huge outlet mall on the edge of town. My French is pretty bad but I was able to translate roadside billboards announcing: “Troyes - Europe's capital city of factory outlet shops.” Then it was on for a few more miles before finding yet another idyllic camping spot right beside the river. A huge thunderstorm shortly after midnight both woke me and had me worried that the river would rise and flood me. Morning showed me I need not have worried.



On to Bar-sur-Seine where I bought the supplies for breakfast. The river gets noticeable shallower and this is in fact the highest point for commercial shipping. I carried on to a fascinating unplanned stop at Chatillion-sur-Seine. My guidebooks suggested I visit the museum holding the treasures of Vix. I was glad I stopped as the massive bronze krater (or vase) standing 1.63 m (5'4") tall and weighing over 200 kg (450 lbs) was definitely worth seeing.

Then away from the river for a little to visit a trio of historic sites: the battle site and Roman ruins at Alesia where Caesar beat the Gauls , an almost 1000 year abbey listed as a UNESCO Heritage site, and finally a beautiful Chateau.

Chateau de Bussy-Rabutin.

Just as the car clicked over 500 km (all but 0.1 done by me since leaving from Charles-de-Gaulle Airport in Paris!) I arrived at the source of the Seine River. This famous river starts as a cluster of springs lying 471 meters (1,545 feet) above the Atlantic Ocean into which it flows. The springs are located in a wooded area in a small valley. The place was a site for pilgrimage for the Gauls from the 1st century BC to the 4th century AD. In the 17th century, rich citizens from Paris became interested in protecting the area for its alleged healing powers. They put pressure of the Paris town council to buy a small parcel of land surrounding the springs and paid for a grotto to be built there in honor of the Nymph of the Seine.

Grotto with infant Seine River flowing from it.

The Nymph of the Seine in her grotto.

Amazing to think of this little trickle of water bubbling up from the base of the statue eventually flowing past all these historic places, through Paris, and on out to the ocean.

Straddling the Seine at its source.

So, my first chapter is complete and what an excellent adventure to begin. Based on how much fun this part of the journey was, I may start tracing famous rivers from mouth to source. Of course, it will have to wait until I’ve climbed a few more mountains. On to the Alps!

Bonjour from Paris

Bonjour: Greetings from Paris. The great adventure has begun.

My flight over from MSP was good, especially good as I got bumped up to first class. Through customs with my new US Passport (having become a naturalized US citizen just two days before). I collected my pre-ordered leased car and headed into Paris. The car is really nice but traffic is terrible (really scary being in nice new car as people come at you at great speed with horn going constantly. I think the French government should stop painting road lanes - they are just wasting paint as NO one pays them any attention).

I visited a huge outdoor market (called Marche aux Puces de St-Ouen). It was vast with what my guidebook says are 2,500 stalls selling everything. My only purchase was a beautiful French made silk neck tie for 1 Euro (and I am looking forward to the fact I will not have to wear it for at least 3 months). On into the city late afternoon and a brief visit to Notre Dame. The line for entrance into the cathedral was enormous so I paid a visit to the Kilometer Zero in the plaza which is out in front of the church. This point in front of the cathedral is where all road distances in France are measured from. I headed on south for about 30 kms where I found a cheap hotel (38 Euro) and have just woken after a wonderful 13 hour sleep.
Onwards for more adventure – thanks for checking in.