Conditions Report
Report from Sunday, January 12, 2025
We had plans to ski a classic 6,000-foot descent in Italy from Hellbronner but the mountains squashed those for us.
Avalanche. Morning before. Fucked up the whole run.
SO we had to pivot our plans.
A few of our party wanted to backtrack and ski some south-facing runs into Italy—a few of which I had already done.
BUT one chill Finnish man named Antti said he was going to ski back to Chamonix via Vallée Blanche.
I raised my eyebrows behind my goggles.
Vallée Blanche is a world-renowned off-piste ski route located in the Mont Blanc massif, connecting Chamonix, France, and Courmayeur, Italy.
When conditions are right, it descends 8,858 feet (2,700 m) from the Aiguille du Midi (12,605 ft) to Chamonix (3,419 ft).
Conditions were not exactly right; we only skied 4,000 vertical feet or so as the remaining section is rocky and grassy as hell due to low snow coverage.
Because of Global Warming, it’s rare nowadays to ski the entire run from the top to valley bottom.
Sometimes, though, it is possible—but just not today.
Traversing the Mer de Glace glacier in the Mont Blanc massif, it offers breathtaking views of peaks like Grandes Jorasses and Aiguille Verte.
Skiers navigate granite spires, crevasses, and seracs, requiring intermediate to advanced off-piste skills, a mountain guide, and essential safety gear.
Open mid-December to early May, with optimal conditions in February and March, it features routes like the Classic and Envers.
Because it was Sunday and I had nothing better to do, I resolved to follow Antti down into France on one of the most famous off-piste runs in the world.
We opted for the classic route.
The run was seemingly endless; an hour went by and we were still skiing down, it seemed.
The snow was great—soft, cold powder, and a bit tracked.
Skiing on the glacier amongst giant seracs of neon-blue ice is something I will never forget.
Although not the steepest or most challenging, this was easily the most scenic ski descent I’ve ever had to privilege of completing.
I followed Antti, who served as my guide through this polar terrain, all the way down to the gondola station at the bottom of Vallée Blanche.
At the bottom, he told me how he’s personally seen the height of the glacier drop almost 200 feet since he first came here 20 years ago.
Climate Change is a bitch.
From there, we took the gondola, then the scenic train (incredible!), straight to the Moo Bar in Chamonix, which was open for lunch (Note: this is different than in Italy, where almost all restaurants are closed in the middle of the day).
There we enjoyed a beer and a plat du jour (plate of the day) with some friends.
I got the duck and Antti got the veggie option.
The carrot cake was the best I’ve ever had in my life.
The espresso was great, but it’s better in Italy.
Fat, happy, and tired, I took an unreasonably enjoyable stroll to the train station amongst the high peaks of Chamonix.
I hopped on the bus and I was back home in Italy in 30 minutes.
The day may have started off uncertain but that’s alright—there’s nothing beautiful about certainty.
Following a random Finnish man down into another country led to one of the most gorgeous ski descents of my life.
A taste of the unexpected led to a wholesome day in the mountains, a full stomach of delicious French food, and a heart at ease, if only for today…
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