A beautiful blue sky. Not a single cloud. An empty day ahead. Good weather forecast. Ok, maybe a bit too hot. I want to enjoy that time in the mountains, but I’m not exactly sure about what to do, or where to go. That last question quickly finds an answer: there is a bus stop not far, in less than an hour I could start hiking… but for what? A simple bivouac in the mountains (it is never really “simple”…), a photo hike, a summit….?
Often, I want to do it all, I want to squeeze as much as I can into my allotted time, maybe out of fear of wasting some precious minutes. This time, I managed to fit my bivouac equipment, some food, a book and a notebook, and a choice of photography equipment into a 32 L backpack. For once I’ll be light enough to hike at a decent pace, while keeping open the possibilities of those next hours spent in the mountains. It is just at the bottom of the valley I now live in: Mauvoisin Dam, a huge lake surrounded by stunning summits and a lot of smaller valleys, glaciers and wild gems. It is already the end of the afternoon when I start hiking, and I end up almost alone on the trail. As usual, I’m paying attention to the surroundings as much as I can. Here a chamois high on the steep slope, there the pasture with the awesome Hérens cows, further up those wildflowers or the old Gietroz stables. Or this amazing light on the Grand Combin upper seracs. I feel quickly rewarded by the first hour on the trail, and my goal for the day becomes quite obvious: reaching a lake, shooting pictures and trying to catch a good sunset one. One more time, I feel incredibly lucky to find a little grassy spot to set my mattress and my sleeping bag before admiring the colours in the sky and their reflection on the lake. I like to spend time at the end of the day, seated in the grass and simply looking around, simply being there. Trying to build as many details as possible into my memory. It is often there that I realize those minutes are absolutely not wasted, even if I can’t consider myself active. I set my bivouac a bit away from the lake, just to feel alone and enjoy the relative silence. Nearby, a group of ibex are playing in the cliff, banging their heads loudly, defying gravity even after the sun is long gone. I often read there too. I can focus on the words in my hands, then raise my eyes above the pages to check the changes before diving back into my story. As if the surroundings could bring a deeper sense to the sentences, or maybe anchor them deeper in my mind.
I slept like a log, deeply, waking up occasionally in the middle of the night to admire the fuzzy stars or the Milky Way. In the morning, I took my time to enjoy this comfortable bivouac. I had the vague idea to climb the summit above me. It is already late, but why not. I climb slowly, camera in hands, shooting lovely details, or meeting an awesome flock of white-winged snowfinches. Will I reach the summit? It doesn’t really matter, actually. It would be the icing on the cake, but the cake is already huge! I realized, a long time ago, that being in the mountains and enjoying the time spent there was enough for me. Of course, I like a good technical climb, a hike to a pass or a summit, as long as I can deeply enjoy being there. I don’t mind turning back, I don’t have a list of summits to climb anymore… How many times did I stop, sit, and enjoy the following 30 minutes watching a chamois grazing nearby, or simply staring at some details that are not part of my regular days, down in the valley.
That day, I almost reached the summit of La Ruinette. I turned back because the weather was changing earlier than planned, and too quickly. I will have to come back to visit that peak, and to enjoy one more time this incredible place. Frustration? Not even a hint of it! Or perhaps just a trace, for having to turn back one or two hours earlier than I would have liked. Maybe by making the choice of climbing La Ruinette, or by deciding to only shoot pictures, I would have been better at this single thing. But I spent less than 24 hours in the mountains, and it already felt like a great journey, as usual. Why make a choice? I like to just enjoy the moment, to feel that I’m there, far enough from the routine that every step becomes an immersion in a world I love.
