A New Way to Experience the Alps
Skiing in the French Alps sounds great to a lot of people. But when the slopes get packed and the lift lines never end, it stops feeling special. That’s where ski touring comes in. You leave the busy pistes of the Three Valleys behind and head out on your own. I went on a trip like that with a guide named Jérémy Bigé. He knows these mountains inside out. We walked far away from the noise of the big resorts and found the real Alps again – quiet, empty, and wild.
A Wolf’s Trail in the Snow
We started the morning looking at some tracks in the snow. I asked Jérémy if they belonged to a wolf. He got down on his knees to check. “Hard to say for sure,” he told me. “Dogs stop and sniff around all the time. Wolves just go straight. They have somewhere to be.”
He pointed farther up the hill. More prints kept going in a perfect line. No turns, no messing about. We stood there in the cold, just the two of us and those tracks. It felt strange to think about wolves so close to places like Courchevel and Méribel. You can almost see the chairlifts from here, yet something wild is walking around at night.
Escaping the Crowds of the Three Valleys
I first skied the Three Valleys in 1998. Back then it already felt huge. Over the years I kept coming back. I knew every black run, every good lunch spot, every bar that played loud music at four o’clock. It was fun. Then one day it wasn’t. Too many people. Too many lifts. The mountains started to feel like a giant playground instead of real mountains.
A friend told me to try ski touring. You put sticky skins on the bottom of your skis. They let you walk uphill without sliding back. When you reach the top, you peel the skins off and ski down on fresh snow. No lifts. No crowds. Just you and the hill. It sounded exactly like what I needed.
The Peaceful Refuge: First Steps into the Wilderness
I spent my first night at Refuge de la Traye. It sits above the village of Les Allues, on the little road up to Méribel. You get there by snowcat or by skiing off-piste. The minute I walked in, the place felt different. Wood floors creaked under my boots. Someone was baking chocolate brioche – the smell filled the whole hut. No TV, no Wi-Fi, just a fire and a bunch of tired, happy people.
I had a sauna and a massage that night. Fancy, I know. But the best part was the quiet. For the first time in years the mountains felt far away from everything.
The Rigors of Ski Touring: A Test of Endurance
Next morning we started climbing. Jérémy moves fast. He once walked across the whole Himalaya – 1,430 miles in one go. I’m not that fit. My backpack got heavier every minute. My legs burned. We kept going for hours.
By the time we reached Refuge du Lac du Lou above Les Menuires, I could barely stand. The hut isn’t fancy like the first one. The beds are basic. But the woman who runs it makes amazing tartiflette, and she kept filling my bowl until I said stop. I slept like a rock that night.
A Steep Climb to the Pointe de la Masse
Day three brought a new guide, Nicolas Fressard. We headed up to Pointe de la Masse – 2,804 meters high. The snow wasn’t perfect. Some parts were crusty, some parts deep and heavy. Nicolas read it like a book. He picked the best line every time. The descent into Vallée des Encombres felt endless and empty. Not another person all day. Just us, the snow, and a few chamois watching from the rocks.
Pushing Through to the Final Destination
We still had one big climb left – almost 1,280 vertical feet to reach Refuge du Trait d’Union. I was running on fumes. Every step hurt. I kept thinking about quitting. Then I remembered something a friend once told me on a rainy hike in Scotland: just worry about the next ten steps. Don’t look at the whole hill. So that’s what I did. Ten steps. Ten more. Ten more.
When we finally walked through the door, the guardian handed me a bowl of sausage and lentil stew without saying a word. I almost cried into it. The hut sits high above St Martin de Belleville. From the window you can see the lights of the resort far below, twinkling like a different world.
A Wild and Unforgettable Journey
That trip wasn’t a normal ski holiday. I came home tired, sunburned, and blistered in strange places. My legs hurt for a week. But I also came home different. The Three Valleys will always have its perfect groomers and fast lifts. That’s fine. Millions of people love it. Yet now I know there’s another side – quiet valleys, wolf tracks, tiny wooden huts that feel like secrets.
Ski touring showed me the mountains still have plenty of wild left, even in the middle of Europe’s biggest ski resort. Sometimes you just have to walk a little farther to find it. I can’t wait to go back.
