It was my first guided hike of the 2026 summer season. Just hiking boots, no snowshoes. Of course, above 2,400 m we met some large snow patches, most of them firm enough to allow steady progress. On such terrain, there is always that occasional step where the snow just seems to disappear under your foot, sometimes letting you sink down to your waist. Tiring. But how enjoyable too. At that time of year the trails are quiet, and more marmots or ibex are showing than humans. It is simply pleasant to keep an even pace, just fast enough to feel the motion, but slow enough to casually talk with a client, a friend, or to dive into your own thoughts.
After autumn, this transition between spring and summer is probably my favourite time to enjoy a hike and a bivouac higher up, well above treeline, but not yet in the alpine zone. I like high meadows, covered with flowers, and the lazy moments spent just admiring them. It is even better with a camera in my hands and a good macro lens. Light can already be harsh around midday, but maybe that is just an excuse to take a break, sit down and let your eyes follow a ridge, climb up a glacier, or rest on the snow/rock contrasts around you.
The goal of that hike was a “photo bivouac,” which also means heavy backpacks full of goodies, sleeping gear and, of course, lenses, cameras and tripods. The effort won’t last too long with such weight to carry, but just enough to make you appreciate even more the end of the quest: the bivy spot. It needs to be dry and flat. A few years ago, thanks to a great mountain leader training, I started leaving my tent at home and a light tarp replaced it in my kit. And sometimes simply a good bivy bag.
That day, when we reached the lake, our goal, we quickly found a nice grassy terrace overlooking the magnificent lake, still partly covered with ice and snow. It was clear enough to mirror the surroundings. After a couple of tarp exercises to explain different setups, we decided to sleep under the stars: a good mattress, a sleeping bag or quilt (for me), and of course the bivouac bag to break the night’s cold breeze.
Photo bivouacs are not restful: you don’t sleep much, especially in June. Days are long and sunset is late. The light is good for two or three hours, and sometimes truly extraordinary for ten or fifteen minutes at most. Dinner generally comes after, in the dark, head full of the last images we shot. It is the end of the day, a good time to share thoughts or feelings about those long hours in the mountains. Nights can still be cold, so don’t be surprised if you wake up with a good frost layer on your gear. That is part of these micro-adventures, a perfect break from daily life, where we welcome a different kind of comfort, when the bare minimum finally feels like luxury.
