How did I find myself here?
When my friend Thomas asked me what I thought about trying to complete the legendary 170km Tour du Mont Blanc (TMB) in 6 days, I happily (and blindly) volunteered. I loosely follow professional trail running, so I knew that the world’s best could complete the trail in under 20 hours — 6 days should be no problem!
As a lifelong connoisseur of Type 2 fun, I was also confident that even without proper training, I could always drag myself over the mountains using sheer willpower. In the end, that was technically true, but it wouldn’t have hurt to be better prepared for the immense physical and mental challenges that awaited me. Thankfully, the TMB’s ridiculous wealth of beauty was enough to give me the motivation I needed in my toughest moments.
What follows is the story of our journey—a testament to adventure, endurance, and the simple joys of exploring the world on two feet. Over six unforgettable days, my companions Thomas, Natalie and I traversed stunning alpine passes, navigated challenging terrain, overcame permanently wet socks, and found peace in the rugged simplicity of life on the Tour du Mont Blanc.
If you’d rather dive into the practical side of things, find out How to Build the Ultimate TMB Fastpacking Itinerary!
Day 1: Baptism by Altitude
We started our adventure with a quick breakfast before hopping on the morning bus from Saint-Gervais-les-Bains to Les Houches. By 9:00 a.m., we were taking pictures beneath the iconic archway marking the start of the Tour du Mont Blanc. The imposing summit of Mont Blanc towered directly above us, making a final attempt to intimidate us into going back home.
With a final adjustment of our packs, we set off running. The sunshine was excellent motivation as we quickly left the charming village behind. After ascending through some gently sloping farmland, we found ourselves marching up the grassy pistes of the local ski area. At Restaurant La fré mi near the top of the slopes, a breathtaking panorama of Mont Blanc was the reward for winning our first uphill battle.
From the top of the ski area we meandered down into the peaceful Bon-Nant (meaning ‘good-natured’) valley. Passing through tranquil forests and over mountain streams, we descended toward the major town in the valley, Les Contamines. Knowing this was the last proper settlement for a few days, we stuffed our packs with local cheese and salami.
Les Contamines sits at 1100m altitude, and from there we still had to tackle another 800m ascent before we could rest for the night. As we climbed, my hip flexors were protesting loudly and catching my breath was becoming more of a challenge. I started to realize that the Tour du Mont Blanc might be much more demanding than I’d imagined. Thankfully, the Refuge des Prés eventually came into view, nestled on a spectacular, isolated plateau. Grateful for hot showers, a few stretching sessions, and hearty food, we crashed into a well-deserved sleep.
Day 2: Full of Highs and Lows, Literally
At sunrise, we dragged our stiff bodies out of bed and onto the rocky trails ascending the Col du Bonhomme. After shaking off the morning haze, we were treated to jaw-dropping views and our first taste of alpine wilderness. Lingering patches of snow even provided some ammunition for a minor snowball fight.
As we crossed the Col and descended towards the Ville des Glaciers, the wilderness transitioned into wide expanses of alpage. If I wanted to eat grass all day, these lush alpine meadows would be my idea of paradise. The hundreds of cows in the area clearly agreed, creating a cacophony of clanking bells as we moved past.
Despite the earlier sunshine, the climb to the exposed Col du Seigne offered only rain and icy winds. I would have obviously preferred my welcome to Italy to involve a warm bowl of pasta. Fortunately, sheltered under a rocky outcrop, our packed lunches were almost as satisfying. We even had curious marmots observing us as we devoured our sandwiches, waiting to pounce on the crumbs.
By now we had finished two big climbs and were happy to coast down into the beautiful Vény valley. Naturally, we still had to pull our exhausted legs up one final ascent. As we neared our refuge, I stopped to plunge into a trail-side lake.
Thankfully, the freezing water left me fully refreshed for the final jog to La Maison Vieille. While I fondly remember the dinner that evening, those memories are somewhat poisoned by a sleepless night caused by a terrible breakout of swimmer’s itch. It seems I shouldn’t have jumped in that lake after all.
Day 3: Over the Misty Mountains
We woke to the patter of raindrops on the roof. This was theoretically the easiest day on our itinerary, but persistent rain and growing fatigue offered a test of our resolve. As we slid down the muddy trails into Courmayeur, we were ready for some Italian creature comforts. The fragrant espresso and freshly baked focaccia we found in town were exactly what the doctor ordered. We nursed our coffee, enjoying the warmth of the café and hoping the rain would eventually subside. However, we eventually resigned ourselves to the fact that today we would have no choice but to get wet.
Courmayeur soon disappeared behind us as we made our way up a crumbling road back into the mountains. As the road narrowed into a dirt trail, it grew steeper, and soon we were sweating under our rain gear. As we continued upwards, we entered dense clouds of fog that obscured everything around us.
The eerie, mist-cloaked landscape muffled all sounds and gave us a heightened sense of isolation. The only signs of life visible in the gloom were the faint silhouettes of cows on distant ridge lines.
Our destination, Refugio Walter Bonatti, offered a sharp contrast to the bleak weather. Despite crowded dormitories and damp clothing, our spirits soared as we basked in warmth, exceptional food, and lively conversation.
Day 4: A Struggle in Switzerland
We stumbled out of the refuge the next morning, grateful that the fog had disappeared. Instead of endless clouds, we had a stunning view of the Frébouze Glacier, clinging on to the side of Mont Blanc. We started the steep descent down to the valley below while watching helicopters run supplies up and down the mountainside. Although I had acclimatized to a certain level of fatigue over the last few days, every step now sent pain coursing through my legs. Of course, I was to blame: muscle failure when moving downhill is the result of inadequate training.
Thankfully, that pain morphed back into the usual discomfort associated with climbing mountains as we scaled the Grand Col Ferret. After taking a moment to enjoy the fantasy that I was completely fine, we made our way into Switzerland. Every step downhill tested what was left of my willpower, although the postcard-perfect village of La Fouly did a lot to lift my spirits.
Walking through the Swiss countryside on a sunny day made me feel like I was wandering through a dream. The mountains looked like they were polished by a professional soldiers with nothing else to do, and the grass really was greener on the other side. It’s either that, or I was starting to hallucinate.
Either way, the long trek through the valley to Champex-Lac was grueling, but I knew the hardest part was over. We indulged in cheesy Swiss comfort food and sleep came easily.
Day 5: Taking the Scenic Route
The day started with some disappointment after locals warned us about lethal weather conditions in the Fenêtre d’Arpette. Thankfully, this section of the Tour du Mont Blanc is very forgiving about last-minute route adaptations. We navigated to our backup route, and there were no regrets as we were soon surrounded by panoramic mountain vistas. A chance helicopter landing brought even more joy to my inner child as we walked past the Alpage de Bovine restaurant on a high plateau.
As the day went on, the confidence I felt under the arch in Les Houches starting coming back to me. Sure, my legs were still in pain, but our goal was tantalizingly close and nothing could stop me now. With an extra spring in my step, we marched down the trail to Trient and back up the countless switchbacks to the Col de Balme. There, directly on the French border, we stopped for tea in the charming Refuge du Col de Balme. With that, we had enough warmth in body and spirit to make the day’s final push feel easy.
At Refuge La Boerne in Tré-le-Champ, we discovered a cozy haven with an architectural style that I can only describe as ‘hippie tree-house’. We enjoyed huge portions of lentil curry and salad, which was a welcome change from the usual heavy mountain fare. I could feel a palpable sense of anticipation about reaching the end of the Tour du Mont Blanc, which made for a lively evening of conversation and storytelling around the dining hall.
Day 6: Excessive Rain on our Parade
Over breakfast, some fellow travelers and a forecast of non-stop rain put another difficult decision in front of us. They warned us against taking the first high pass due to treacherous winds, so we started on a lower-altitude route. This seemed to be the right choice, as the wet conditions made for slow progress even with the added shelter of the forest. Regardless, with the first temporary sign of clearing skies, ambition pulled us upwards again. This would turn out to be the wrong choice, as the mountains have a way of dealing with overconfidence.
From the moment we turned uphill, we were forced to learn a few hard lessons. The first was that the human digestion system is fragile – and certainly not equipped to manage a high-fibre vegetarian meal after days full of carbs, meat and cheese. After several urgent breaks in the bushes, we had another lesson about trying to predict mountain weather. Thick fog and dangerous footing forced us to turn back from the Col du Brévent.
Apparently, we deserved even more punishment for our aspiration, because the skies opened up completely as we came within 10km of the finish line. The trails became more puddle than dirt as we slogged through the relentless downpour, squeezing the last of our strength. Yet as flooded tracks gave way to asphalt roads, adrenaline took over and we couldn’t help but to break into the fastest run of the entire adventure. Crossing the finish line at the familiar archway felt euphoric—a testament to our perseverance and friendship.
That night’s celebratory meal was deeply gratifying, and lentils were gone from our thoughts as we tore into heaps of meat, cheese and potatoes.
Reflections on Fastpacking the Tour du Mont Blanc
Our fastpacking journey around Mont Blanc wasn’t just physically demanding—it tested our resilience, physical strength, and camaraderie. Between the gorgeous views and comforting refuges were moments of genuine struggle, a good reminder that an adventure is not really about the destination, and instead is better defined by what you can learn about yourself along the way.
Our time on the Tour du Mont Blanc was a once-in-a-lifetime experience that will stay etched in my memory. In several decades, I’m sure I’ll bring it up to brag about my physical accomplishments from more youthful years, but I don’t need to wait another minute to give full value to the profound life experience it offered me.
“It’s not the mountain that we conquer, but ourselves.”
Sir Edmund Hillary