Report from February 24, 2026

Yesterday I met up with my new buddy Pierre, whom I’d met during that illegal powder day at Les Arcs four days ago.

He grew up here, so I just smiled, nodded, and followed him around all day.

It was crazy hot again and this was my 4th day in a row of wearing just base layers and shells.

Another secret spot with Pierre. Image: SnowBrains

We went straight to the top, dropped off the back, and saw no one. No one except two dogs on what appeared to be on a full-blown mountaineering mission.

Even Pierre said he’d never seen anything like it.

Just some village dogs out for an extreme alpine jaunt. Typical France.

Even the dogs are more hardcore out here.

Our first runs off the back were wide-open, orange-peel snow and pure fun.

We walked through a village and skied back to a chairlift because in France, you ain’t gotta hike much, there’s always a piste and a lift waiting for yas.

Pierre leading the way. Image: SnowBrains

From there, we headed back up to the top of the Aiguille Rouge (there’s a tunnel on the summit right now and Pierre said he’s never seen that much snow up there ever) and dropped into the formidable front side.

Not exactly my usual style. It was no-fall zone into no-fall zone into another no-fall zone, finishing through a tight exit gully.

But the snow was good, and to Pierre it might as well have been a mellow blue groomer.

Another short hike led us into my favorite zone of the day.

Chutes on chutes on chutes.

One even had a mandatory air with a straight-line exit onto a massive apron that felt eerily similar to The Chimney at Palisades Tahoe.

I was buzzing all day, snapping photos of the absurd lift-accessed terrain that had me drooling.

Of all the places we’ve skied on this trip — Serre Chevalier, La Grave, Méribel, Courchevel, Tignes, Val d’Isère, Sainte-Foy — I think Les Arcs is the one for me.

It doesn’t hurt that I’ve got a new buddy named Pierre who skis circles around me and knows every nook and cranny of this mountain.