A four-day trek in the Beaufortain

This trip was a little different from our usual travels. In July 2024, I set off without Sandrine or Victor, but with five friends, for a four-day trek through the Beaufortain massif in the French Alps.

The idea was to complete a loop starting and finishing in Arêches, carrying everything we needed on our backs. For me, it was also a first real experience of a multi-day mountain trek.

Even though we started planning several months ahead, two of the mountain huts were already fully booked. So the final plan became one night in a dormitory and two nights camping outside, while still having dinner and breakfast at the refuges. It was a good compromise: we could sleep in tents without having to carry four days’ worth of food and cooking equipment.

How to prepare for a trek

I prepared fairly seriously for the trip for about two months: some running, much more walking, less alcohol… I had also hoped to keep my backpack under eight kilos. Once the water was added, it was closer to eleven.

And because my usual camera was too heavy, I took a disposable Kodak instead, which gave the whole trip a slightly accidental 1990s holiday look.

The map follows our route over all four days.

And the first day immediately showed us what we had signed up for: around 19 kilometres and 1,800 metres of ascent.

We left Arêches at about eight in the morning, after a quick stop at the bakery, and began climbing through a forest still covered in morning mist. We passed livestock guardian dogs, crossed the Pas de l’Âne, climbed several cols and even found patches of snow, despite it being July.

Our first night in a refuge

By the evening, we reached the Refuge des Arolles.

Stéphane, Guillaume and I arrived at around six, just in time for a beer, a shower and sunset over Mont Blanc. Others arrived much later: Christian and Daniel had lost almost three hours on the snowy descents.

After lasagne and a night in a dormitory accompanied by plenty of snoring, breakfast brought an unexpected announcement.

Three of our friends had decided to stop. Stéphane, who had organised the trek, also chose not to continue if the original group was no longer together.

So from day two onwards, it was just Guillaume and me.

And that second day turned out to be the hardest: roughly 20 kilometres and another 1,600 metres of ascent.

We descended towards Lac de Saint-Guérin through roots and mud, climbed again to Lac des Fées, then continued towards the Cormet d’Arêches and finally the Col du Bresson, at almost 2,500 metres.

The final section was over rocks, and as I reached the top, two ibex were standing there watching me pass.

Our first bivouac

The Refuge de Presset was probably the most spectacular place we stayed.

Huge windows looked directly towards the Pierra Menta, with a small lake in front of the hut that was still partly frozen.

After dinner, we pitched our tents for our first night outside.

The next morning, I got up before Guillaume and found six ibex wandering quietly just a few metres from the tents.

Day three took us to the highest point of the trek, the Col du Grand Fond at 2,671 metres. On the way down into the Combe de la Neuva, we crossed snow for almost forty-five minutes, then climbed once again towards the Refuge de la Croix du Bonhomme.

Here we joined part of the Tour du Mont Blanc, so suddenly there were far more hikers and far more nationalities.

That evening, we shared a croziflette with Estonians, Spaniards and another French hiker.

Outside, thunderstorms were forecast.

A bivouac in a thunderstorm

We tried to pitch the tents somewhere reasonably sheltered.

It didn’t really work.

At around midnight, lightning woke me up. One of the poles in my tent snapped in the wind. I managed to improvise a repair, but because I had unknowingly pitched in a slight hollow, water started collecting underneath the groundsheet.

At one point, I felt as though my sleeping mat was floating.

The emergency blanket I had packed almost as an afterthought ended up insulating me from the water and keeping my sleeping bag dry until morning.

The final day involved another 23 kilometres, but this time the main challenge was descending: around 2,000 vertical metres.

We followed the Crête des Gittes, passed Lac de Roselend and its dam, and kept heading down.

After two days in wet shoes, my feet were covered in blisters, and during the last few kilometres my knee almost completely locked up.

A few kilometres before the finish, Guillaume went ahead.

A little later, I saw him walking back towards me.

He had taken the wrong path and accidentally added an extra loop to his day.

Eventually, we made it back to Arêches.

Six of us had started. Two of us finished.

And despite the snow, rain, broken tent, blisters and kilometres of climbing, what I remember most is the Beaufortain itself: the lakes, the high passes, the Pierra Menta, the ibex outside the tent in the morning, and that slightly addictive feeling of spending four days moving through the mountains with everything you need on your back.