Mt. Blanc in the clouds and Vallee de Chamonix-Mt. Blanc
It’s ironic that winter has returned to the Haute Savoie a week before my Chamonix adventure ends. We’ve had decent snowfall with a couple of clear spells during which it’s been possible to enjoy it. It stormed hard all night and I enjoyed the sound of rain on my window, lulling me to sleep. The snow line also dropped to less than 100 meters above the valley.
I had big plans during one of the last sunny days to get out a last time on race gear. I even wore my suit. Seemed only proper. Besides, in the Alps you hardly get a second look. I wanted to link the Cols du Argentiere, Tour Noir and Chardonnay in a single, skimo sufferfest. I was a little late to get going and the day was going to be warm. Once at the top of the Grand Montet I took the deliciously exposed upper traverse down to the glacier. I say “deliciously” because passing under all those huge hanging seracs under Aiguille Verte and Les Droites feels so wrong and yet it cleaves off huge skiing time down low.
Looking back towards Grand Montet after descending to the Glacier du Argentiere
As usual, the little race sticks proved to be entertaining and generally fun. The early rise of my Hagan X-Race makes mixed conditions pleasurable. Once on the glacier, I stripped down to Lycra and donned the super fast Hagan mohair hides. After 30K of climbing at the Pierra Menta they are gliding well. It didn’t take long for the sun to become oppressive and I stripped the suit down around my waist and climbed to the Argentiere col bare-chested. Now I was getting the stares and even pictures from the incredulous Gortex-clad Haute Route aspirants.
Unfortunately, even though I was moving well, I’d forgotten how trashed the liners of my boots were after the PM. With the hot temps, my feet were sweltering and, with that, my heels were getting nuked. In spite of my ambitions, there would be no further climbs for me this day. I still managed to go from the top of Grand Montet to the Col du Argentiere in about 1:20. That was a full hour faster than my time when I first got here. Nothing like being acclimatized and on race gear to speed things up.
So, I ripped skins and headed down, enjoying a sprinkle of thickening powder at first and then dreamy corn for the rest. The cruise down the Glacier du Argentiere was painless, unlike the current state of the Vallee Blanche, which is nearly impassable on skis now.
Late Season Powder
After that glorious day, more rain and snow returned. Another clear spell had me back at Grand Montet for pure gravity riding. The powder brought out the crowds and I remembered, again, why I dislike lift skiing so much. At the mid station, the line for the tram was looking like an hour so I jumped on the gondola for a warm up. The skiing was fun, cut up powder. It’d gotten hammered the day before despite the crappy viz during the storm. I felt obliged to hit it from the top so I waited 45 minutes for the upper ‘pherique.
Once at the top, I immediately regretted not coming prepared to tour. It was beautiful up high and the Argentiere beckoned. But I simply skied the gradually thickening fresh snow down to the glacier and traversed back to the resort. It was good skiing but the sun was cooking it fast. It was all I could deal with. A coffee on the sun deck and a painless download on the tram had me back in town before noon.
Gym Time
Against my better judgment, I’ve refrained from hitting the weight room since I’ve been here. I’ve been able to do pull-ups and push-ups in my flat so that’s been good but my legs have suffered. I’m convinced that my leg program prior to the Pierra Menta is what allowed me to fire the descents non-stop despite spending no time on race gear and very little downhill skiing in general. 
Most people squatted best early in lifeI’m a huge fan of squats and leg training especially for aging athletes like myself. Occasional breaks aren’t necessarily bad but the return is always dreadful. It seems there’s no way to avoid the delayed onset muscle soreness that comes with resuming training.
It was with a certain amount of trepidation that I entered Chamonix’s Sport Centre, paid my 7 Euros and stepped up to the squat rack. The weight room was busy but, as usual, the particularly coifed French pretty boys were too busy admiring their biceps doing dumbbell curls to be bothered training their “wheels”, something you can’t see in most mirrors. This malignant issue is common in gyms around the world. The only thing worse is someone doing curls in the squat rack. I’ve been guilty of all it.
Guys love training their “guns” but squats suck way more. They’re hard, technically challenging to perform correctly but pay the most dividends of any exercise you can do. It’s an acquired taste. If I could choose only one exercise, it would be the front squat or the trap bar dead lift, a combination of a squat and traditional dead lift.
Trap Bar Dead Lift In terms of overall strength development, motor unit recruitment, physical benefits and anabolic hormone stimulation, nothing else comes close. I’ll leave the rest of this rant to a separate post.
So, I squatted, felt tomorrow’s impending doom and took a short jaunt up the Brevent hiking trail to top off the day. 
More precipitation is predicted for tomorrow followed by a final clearing prior to Friday’s return to the working world in AK. Maybe the three-col link up will finally go down. It’d be a nice book end to my time here.