Lac Blanc to Trient: Hiking the Tour du Mont Blanc
This post covers section 2 of our clockwise hike of the Tour du Mont Blanc, starting in Lac Blanc, France and ending in Trient, Switzerland.
Start: Refuge du Lac Blanc, France
End: Trient, Switzerland
Mileage: 11.4 mi / 18.3 km
Elevation Gain: 2800 ft / 853 m
Elevation Loss: 6500 ft / 1981 m
Auberge: Auberge du Mont-Blanc
View full map on Gaia
This was a tough day, perhaps the hardest we encountered on our clockwise hike of the TMB. It wasn’t necessarily because of its physical difficulty, though many show trepidation at the section with ladders, but rather for the incessant downhill into Trient at the end of the day.
But the day started wonderfully enough: full sunshine, sweeping views of the mountains, and hot black coffee to wash it all down. Breakfast at Refuge du Lac Blanc was nothing to write home about. It was actually quite meager, a reflection of the hut’s remoteness. A few pieces of toast with butter and jam was the extent of it, and by 8 am we were off.
We descended from Lac Blanc along open trails and hiked under a cloudless sky, taking in the scenery that was on full display. Very quickly, about a mile after starting, we arrived at the famous ladder section.
When planning the TMB months prior, I read over and over again about how people found the ladder section dreadful. So dreadful that many people actively sought ways to avoid them entirely. For us, they sounded delightful. They were something new and challenging and uncommon to come across, and honestly, they weren’t bad at all. To be fair, we were going down them at the beginning of our day, whereas most hikers come the other direction and climb up them at the end of their day. That, my friends, makes a fair bit of a difference.
After tackling the ladders, I’d say that climbing down is physically easier and more mentally challenging, while climbing up is the opposite. When going down, you are constantly looking below—and sometimes that below feels like a long ways away. I see how this can be nerve-racking, especially if heights aren’t your jam. But heights aside, going down ladders doesn’t require much energy, just step-step-step and suddenly you’ve gone down a thousand feet, easy-peasy.
Hiking up, on the other hand, looked painful. This conclusion is purely based on the reddened, sweat-soaked faces of hikers we passed who were hunched over and heaving, looking like they’d rather be anywhere else on the planet than balancing on an old metal ladder attached to the side of a mountain. Their reaction was appropriate given that going up requires hauling yourself and a 20-pound bag up a series of vertical ladders that seem to never end. But as I said, we had a delightful time going down. Plus, by the time we reached the charming hamlet of Tré-le-Champ in the valley we’d hiked only three miles but had already descended 3,175 feet.
Tré-le-Champ is a quintessential French village. Narrow gravel paths are lined with stone buildings, each doused in colorful flowers while the sound of a creek lent a pleasant soundtrack to the whole scene. I wouldn’t have minded staying at Auberge la Boerne, a quaint spot overflowing with picnic tables and enough flower baskets that if you told me they were giving them away as party favors to each hiker that waltzed by, I’d believe you. This is all to say that Tré-le-Champ made a very nice rest stop. We took off our packs and settled in a small grassy area where TMB campers set up their tents and began to stretch. After a brief snack break, we filled up on water from the public spigot and bid the little village au revoir.
From Tré-Le-Champ, we made our way to Col du Balme, taking a slight variant through La Tour to get there. The official TMB route to the north was slightly longer with more elevation and, unlike our alternate path, didn’t look like it had a café along the way, which we desperately wanted. La Tour is a sneeze of a town but lo and behold, a café was open. We took a little lunch break and finally got our daily croissant fix before making the day’s climb to Col du Blame.
This part of the day was lovely as we hiked through grassy alpine pastures bathed in afternoon sunshine. It wasn’t easy but it was certainly beautiful and pleasant—if pleasant can be defined as climbing 2000 feet in just over two miles. The switchbacks were long and gradual and we took a quick breather at each one while simultaneously taking in the mountains behind us.
As we approached the crest of what I am going to call a “slope,” we were greeted by a medley of cows conducting a symphony with the hefty bells around their necks. (I say “slope” because the piece of earth in front of us was much being bigger than a “hill” but not quite a “mountain,” and honestly, what distinguishes them anyway? But I digress.) The cows on the slope/hill/mountain seemed to have little interest in us, as cows so rarely do, but a few of them had no problem hopping on the trail to remind us whose land we were on. We kindly stepped aside to let them pass and maintain their dominance. In the distance, not too far ahead, we saw a lone concrete building with bright red shutters, which we concluded had to be Refuge du Col de Balme—and our official crossing into Switzerland from France.
From the outside, Refuge du Col de Balme appears a bit austere but inside it’s a cozy mountain hut with light-colored wood covering nearly every surface—floors, walls, ceilings, you name it. We had a great lunch that consisted of an omelet, bread (always), beer (mostly always), and salad with beets—beets! We finished lunch and, it being 3 pm and still having about four more miles to cover, we carried on to Trient. And this, dear readers, is where the day turned into the hardest one on the TMB for us.
Initially, all was well. Pleasant, even. We began trekking from Col du Balme with towering hills covered in greenery behind us and a meandering valley up ahead. It was sunny, we passed interesting stone ruins, and all was fine and dandy. And then it went downhill—literally—from there, turning our hike into a brutal 2.6 mile descent through the forest to the edge of Trient.
The trail was without reprieve and filled with a maddening amount of loose rocks—not gravel or boulders, but loose rocks ranging from the annoying size of a fist to the infuriating width of an 800-page hardcover book. I had half a mind to throw them all off the mountainside, to kick them into forested oblivion with the ferocity and anger that simmered in my bones. I can think of few times I’ve been so angry at an inanimate object as I was at these endless, horribly sized loose rocks that rolled my ankles like they were rubber. But we trudged on; step, pole tap, step, pole tap, ankle twist, step, pole tap, ankle twist the other way, step, pole tap, step.
Then finally—finally!—the trees opened up and we saw the village of Trient ahead. I, for my part, made a beeline toward salvation: Auberege Mont-Blanc. We passed Refuge de La Puety, cute houses, and even a gathering of donkeys, but I had my eye on the prize and nothing—not even donkeys, which is saying something—could stop me.
Auberege Mont-Blanc is everything a weary hiking soul needs: clean multi-stall shower area, copious charging outlets, a patio, sunroom, good breakfast spread, bar, and plenty of places to sit and relax. They even had a designated stretching area with foam rollers! The only thing that I didn’t love about the auberge was the set-up of the dorm beds which were essentially three bunkbeds pushed right up against each other (at least this was the case for the 12-person dorm). If privacy and personal space is your thing, I recommend getting a private room.
For dinner, we had a feast of cheese fondue and curry. (After two nights in a row of curry, and what would be many more to come, I realized there is a particular penchant for curry on the TMB.) For dessert, I surprised Mikki with a birthday candle that the staff kindly placed in a slice of cake and presented to her. Then, much to my delight and Mikki’s utter dismay, 80 people began singing “Happy Birthday” to her in glorious, tuneless, broken English. There was a wonderful mumble of words where her name was supposed to be said and the song resumed with gusto for the last “happy birthday to you!” Was she embarrassed? Absolutely. But she was the recipient of a delicious slice of cake covered in almonds and chocolate while the rest of us had a soft sort of ice cream in the shape and color of the Swiss flag, so she couldn’t complain too much.
Earlier in the evening I had arranged it all with the bartender. Initially, I tried to ask for a candle that I could put in her croissant the next day (though later I would realize I didn’t have a lighter, so I’m glad this plan didn’t work out). Unfortunately, a little language barrier stood in the way of asking for a candle to use the next day. I tried in English, hopeful he spoke English better than I spoke French, which is a low bar considering I don’t speak any French at all. Alas, he did not, but bless his soul as he tried to find common ground.
“German?” he asked, excitedly.
“No,” I said, shaking my head.
“Italian?” he offered.
I shook my head again, no.
He seemed to be racking his brain for more options. “Portuguese?” he tried.
“No,” I said, embarrassed. How many languages did this man speak anyway?
“Spanish?” he offered.
“Si!” I said, nearly yelping the word for yes in excitement.
“Si, bien!” he said, smiling, yes, good!
My Spanish is middling but I know enough to get by and was elated that he spoke it, too. My mission for a birthday surprise was now underway. And then I stopped short, realizing I didn’t know the word for “candle.” So what came out of my mouth?
“Erm, feliz cumpleaños fuego!?” I ventured. Translation: happy birthday fire.
For a moment he looked confused, which is an appropriate response to being shouted at in a language that is neither of your native tongues. But then, to my delight, he smiled and said, “ahhh! Vela!” And the rest is history.