Le Chable – Cabine Du Mont Fort
We got up at 5:45 and hoped to roll out the door quickly to beat the poor weather forecast for the afternoon on a day we had to climb a vertical mile (1600 meters). As we got organized, Jennifer noticed that she did not have her rain jacket. As it is quite an essential piece of equipment our hearts sunk. As she realized that she left it in the bar the night before, fear came over us. The bar didn’t open until 6 PM. Even our hotel wasn’t officially open yet, so Jennifer waited like an expectant puppy at the door for someone to arrive. Since there was little I could do to improve the situation, I selfishly went back to sleep. I know, good husband. At 8:00 AM Jennifer came back with a smile and a jacket. The women from the hotel called the owner of the bar. He had been kind enough to grab it the night before and returned it to Jennifer.

While it was raining earlier, the rain had now stopped, so we hoped this was all for the best and hit the trail. We quickly go confused trying to navigate our way out of the villages. Once out, our directionality did not improve. To make matters worse, evil wet looking clouds. Then the rain came. A cold, wet, miserable rain. About ¼ of the way up we found shelter, a closed cabin of some kind that had a nice little covered stoop. Two other Haute routers were already there waiting out the storm.  Nacho and his girlfriend would cross our paths many times over the next week. We plopped down next to them, just as the rain stopped. I toweled off a bit, snacked, switched shirts, and we marched on.

At the half way point we reached a restaurant. A warm dry restaurant. We saw Jennifer’s British friends pulling out, the restaurant was too expensive for them. It was $13 for a bowl of soup, but it was an excellent bowl of soup and did I mention the restaurant was warm and dry. After refueling, I did a quick change into my rain pants and headed out the door. I picked up my pack and looked down the trail. We were totally fogged in and Jennifer had disappeared into the white mist. I called out to her and was surprised how close she was. We were indeed in a complete white out.

We climbed a trail that was a series of agonizing switch backs. Now if we could see the views, it would not have been so bad. However, we saw just clouds. Eventually, in a distance we could see a cabin. Hopefully, it was our cabin. As we approached, it played peek-a-boo, coming in and out of view. Each time we saw it, it got closer and closer. When we were almost there, the clouds started to clear and the cabin shined like a beacon. Once we got there, the clouds and rain returned. Safely inside the warm cabin, we didn’t mind quite as much.

The story continues...