Hiking diary - 4 months of independent crossing of the Alps

In the spring of 2024, three students joined the Lagoped Family before embarking on a journey that would mark their university years and their lives: crossing the Alps, in the footsteps of wolves. Story of their adventure, lasting four months.

The three of us, Jules, Joé and Joseph, meet up in Marseille. We have been working on this crossing project for a little over a year now and the preparation phase is coming to an end. Are we ready?

Not in the least. And that's why we're here in Marseille to dedicate the next month to the final preparations. On the agenda: buying all our audio-visual equipment to make our documentary, equipping ourselves with the necessary equipment for four months of hiking and bivouacking, contacting all the actors we'll interview along the way, and finally getting in physical condition for the crossing. (Spoiler: we've hardly done any sport during this month) All in all, we still have a lot of things to do.

So we decide to isolate ourselves for three weeks in the mountains. We start to gather the audio-visual equipment, the technical equipment, the clothes and to use them.

The departure is approaching, our patience is wearing thin and the desire to leave is becoming more and more felt. However, the weather and snow conditions are not favorable and force us to postpone the departure date. We will not leave on April 1st as planned, but on the 8th. So since patience is the mother of virtue, this allows us to equip ourselves at the last minute with snowshoes, DVA, shovels, probes and crampons, essential for the start of the crossing.

We arrive in Grasse, at Joseph's, the departure is set for two days and we are busy gathering everything, checking one last time that we have everything and above all tirelessly scrutinizing the BRA (Avalanche Risk Bulletin) of Mercantour and Hautes Alpes on Météo France. There are still more than 2 meters of snow above 2000m in Mercantour and it sometimes goes up to 5 in some massifs. The weather is uncertain and the departure date is pushed back again. We will leave on April 13, it is decided. Fortunately, it will not be a Friday and luck will be on our side during the crossing.

We then take advantage of the last days to sleep well, buy our first provisions and finally do our business. In the bag of the Transalpines, there is:

• Our Lagoped clothing for 4 months of crossing (Jacket, Down jacket, fleece, pants, leggings, shorts, t-shirt, hat, etc.)

• Our bivouac equipment (Tent, groundsheet, sleeping bag, cooking pot)

• Our audiovisual equipment (Camera and 2 lenses, Drone, portable batteries and other batteries, cables and hard drives)

• Our food (for 3-4 days of autonomy on average, the interval between two supply points) and our water

• Miscellaneous (headlamp, first aid kit, etc.)

Nice, 12 noon, the sun is beating down on the Côte d'Azur, the ISO 0°C is at 4100m, it seems like it's finally time to leave. Destination: Ljubljana. We should arrive in August if all goes well. Throughout this crossing, we will meet the people involved in the wolf issue in order to interview them and make a documentary that retraces our experience, on foot, on the path to understanding the problem of the return of the wolf to the Alps.

So we left carefree, almost in denial, on April 13th in 30°C and the sun at its zenith. After 18 km of our first stage, Jules was no longer able to complain, the bag crushing our shoulders and hips. Joseph then regretted Earth's gravity for the first and last time. Dried out from this day, we still wondered if this wasn't too big a project before falling asleep with our morale in Joé's socks, deciding to continue to see how far we could go.

The first days were intense. With an average of 18km per day and 21kg on our backs, our bodies were forced to adapt to this daily routine that would last for more than 100 days. Between sunny days, first snows and first actors interviewed, the beginning announced a beautiful color to this journey. And of course the Mercantour and its wild landscapes offered us beautiful surprises: chamois, deer, bearded vultures and even a wolf, the only one we saw in four months.

Barely having left Mercantour, the weather conditions worsened day by day and forced us on April 27 to turn back at the foot of the Col du Girardin, prey to a pea soup that did not reveal the slightest landmark. Forced to go around via Guillestre, the Queyras was short-lived and put our comfort and determination to the test. A few days later, the Thabor massif gave us no respite. Two days of non-stop rain accompanied us to the bottom of the Vallée Étroite, an obligatory passage to reach the Maurienne valley.

Savoie smiles at us upon our arrival, three days of great sunshine and unexpected encounters, sometimes warm, but always exciting. After the Maurienne valley, we switch to the Tarentaise valley and its ski resorts that are just closing. The mountain is empty, the winter shelters still open sometimes save us from bad weather, but not all the time. May 16, 9am, it is snowing heavily and a long day awaits us. And as the snow turns to rain, the hope of finding the Plan de la Lai refuge open disappears. It is 4pm, we are soaked and demoralized. That is when road service agents arrive to make installations. We chat with them and offer to take us back down to Beaufort, the night promises to be spoiled. So, we accept and here we are in Beaufort, a roof and a shower at stake, a chance that we cherish and that perks us up for the future.

We then arrive on May 18 in Chamonix for a week's break, but not a restful one: four interviews, a day of mountain pasture work, a day in the field to check camera traps and a detour to Lausanne to see friends for a day. This break is good before leaving France.

We left Chamonix on May 26, rested and motivated, the next day we had an appointment with OPPAL (an association that provides volunteers to farmers to scare away wolves at night) on the heights of Martigny to keep a night watch on an alpine pasture. An arrival in Switzerland that started a little too well... We had thought about it in France, but Switzerland confirmed it to us, the alpine landscapes are very anthropized, especially here in the Rhone Valley. So, we climb, we climb until we overlook it. But that was without counting on the capricious weather that finally made us understand that we had left in the wrong year. We accepted our fate and we went back down to Sion to continue for two weeks at the bottom of the valley along the Rhone, far from the recently whitened peaks. The Transalpines then took a big hit to their morale. Illness and vomiting in series, (ultra)urbanized landscapes and the food budget that exploded. Despite a few actors who punctuate our daily walk and bring us a new vision of the wolf problem, morale is low.

If you have ever been to Switzerland, you will surely know that you see a lot of mountains. However, the canton of Ticino has a special atmosphere, a wild atmosphere, with quite atypical vegetation and steep relief. Generally, the valleys are between 300 and 800m above sea level while the passes climb to 2000, 2100, or even 2500m and more. But despite very physical days, the canton of Ticino offered us incredible moments, based on Italian spoken language, unguarded refuges more luxurious than our homes and gourmet meals. With that we were able to forget the moments of hail and endless showers...

Large mountain pastures, small chalets, urbanized and rich valleys, and then tourists, lots of tourists. If you want to know where to find that, go to the canton of Grisons. After crossing the second Italian language, we discover the Upper Engadine, region of Saint Moritz. And while the weather is fine, breathtaking landscapes, we break a lens of the camera, which is also the one allowing to zoom. No time to think, we bounce back and order a new one. In the meantime, we move forward and use the other one which gives us nice surprises. Perfect to capture the beginning of summer and our beginnings in Italy!

What joy! We finally arrive in Italy! After two brief tastes, here we are. The sun, the €6 pizzas, and the €1 coffees (and not €4.50)... Joé and Joseph take advantage of our brief stay in Bormio to change their shoes, Joseph had a very damaged sole and Joé wanted more comfort for the big month we had left. Indeed, and this, for the first time during the crossing, we finally feel summer and with that the hope of additional comfort. So, we set off towards the Stelvio National Park, whose peaks mostly reach over 3000m above sea level.

But high altitude experience has its limits and on July 6, as we were about to cross the highest pass of the crossing (3000m), we made a series of mistakes: first we took the wrong pass due to not having studied the map, then we thought it would be wise to take the ridges to reach the right pass before realizing that the path was more like mountaineering than hiking. It started to rain, we were afraid and decided to turn back, but when we reached the point where the path to the wrong pass and the right pass intersect, we decided to try to cross the right pass anyway. Snow, crumbly rock, unstable stones and a 50% slope. That's what the path is made of (if you can call it a path), and all that at an altitude of 2900m with the weather getting worse by the minute. Once we reached the top, it was impossible for us to switch to the other side. So for good, we abandoned the end of the stage to return to the Arnaldo Berni refuge that we had passed at noon. On the descent, we were very careful, especially since fatigue mixed with the emotions still raw in our minds. Joé led the way and Joseph followed by several dozen meters. Jules stayed behind and began to slowly descend when a rock weighing several hundred kilos came loose under his feet. It rolled a little then fell in Joseph's direction. Jules just had time to shout to him: “JOSEPH! ROCK!” for him to turn around and move at the last minute. That same evening, we set up our tents next to the refuge, sheltered by the tiny roof of the chapel next to the refuge. This time, there was no more doubt, we had reached our limits. The worst day of the crossing could have ended much worse. We debrief for two hours before falling asleep, determined not to take such big risks again.

However, Joseph pays the price two days later and falls ill in Cogolo, where we stop for a day, before continuing towards Bolzano. We arrive there on July 13 and celebrate Joé's birthday at the same time.

We spend the 14th, 15th, 16th and 17th in Bolzano and the surrounding area to conduct several interviews with the leading Italian players and a field trip to an alpine pasture with the EURAC Research center. Filled with new knowledge and the desire to return to the heights, we leave the capital of South Tyrol, gateway to the mythical Dolomites. To the east of Bolzano is the Sciliar-Catinaccio nature park, and we quickly understand why. A white rock, steep cliffs and refuges nestled in the heart of its lunar landscapes. It is also the last time we walk on the snow and we are alone. The beauty of the Dolomites is earned, we understand that well, but I don't think that is the case for everyone. Here too, the tourists are in droves and concentrate at the road passes, leaving doubts as to their arrival. It's July 21st, the 100th day that we've been walking, 100 days of sleeping on a groundsheet, washing every third day, putting up and taking down tents. A hundred days is both short and long at the same time, 100 days represent at that moment, the ambivalence that we all share: the insatiable desire to finish and the tranquility of this daily life in the mountains. Despite everything, we continue to walk the Italian trails without meeting many people and having more than one warm encounter. We take in our bags the recipe for several Grappa, a typical Italian alcohol made by macerating plants in white grape alcohol. We also take away a lot of knowledge about edible and inedible mushrooms, about boletus, chanterelles, polypores, about those that we find at the edge of the paths and those that we have to look for for 4 hours leaving Jules all alone (like a little feeling of lived experience). But above all, we will take away the memories of these views and these intimidating mountains…

We enter the easternmost region of the Italian Alps: Friuli-Venezia Giulia. This is a region that we had heard very little about, whether for its cities and landscapes or for the wolf problem. Here, bears, lynxes and jackals mingle with the wolf and we don't really know which is the most problematic. This is a region that is very little touristy compared to the Dolomites. We come across a few bikers here and there on the trails, but above all, we meet locals who are always up for a chat, and what's more in French! We learn that a large number of Italians from Friuli and Veneto immigrated to France in the 1950s, at the time of the construction of new cities around Paris. Since then, several generations later, their children or grandchildren have returned here to Italy to live there or simply on vacation in their family home. The ambivalence between the desire to finish and the desire to enjoy this lifestyle has intensified in the last few days in Italy. Two days before crossing the Slovenian border, we tell our journey to a cow farmer, who welcomes us into his farm for an aperitif and to take shelter from the storm. He also speaks French, a very approximate French, but enough for us to understand each other. He explains to us that for years he has been collecting stories of the adventures of people who pass by his farm, and indeed, we see on the walls full of photos that people have sent him and we wonder if our photos will appear here too. The next day, we leave again, and thank him for his welcome. After asking us to send him a little story of transalpines, he greets us and says "Ciao ragazzi, in bocca al lupo". We understood at that moment the meaning of "ciao ragazzi" and why everyone was saying it. As for what happened next, he didn't wish us to end up in the lion's den, but rather good luck for the end.

If the Julian Alps don't ring a bell, imagine low, steep valleys surrounded by rocky, steep mountain ranges. It's easy to understand why we were wished good luck. The last day in Italy was long and tedious when we thought it would be short and pleasant. Our first night in Slovenia was also unexpected. With no water nearby, we decided to go and ask for some at a farm located on the map, motivated by the possibility of an interview. We got water, but no interview. Tired from the day, we set up camp in an alpine pasture next to the farm. And as we were getting ready to go to bed, two children from the farm came to see Joe to cleverly extort €3 from him. In fact, it is forbidden to camp in Slovenia, in nature parks, but also outside. To cut a long story short, we were breaking the law and the children knew that well. But Joé doesn't give up, and sends the children away without these 3 precious euros. We finally fall asleep, but are woken up a little abruptly at 6am, by the same children shouting: "GREMO! GREMO!", accompanied by the herd of cows. At the time, we didn't know if we were hallucinating the shouts or if they were doing it on purpose to wake us up. In any case, it was successful, but without displeasing us, the end is near, the weather is nice and the mountains are magnificent. We spent the following days going up the Soča valley to the small village of Trenta, departure for the summit of Triglav, emblem of Slovenia. But not being equipped for its ascent, we decided to cross the national park by the valley of the seven lakes, which ends with the large lake of Bohinj. A worthy end, punctuated by a swim to close these four months of walking. But the crossing is not quite over, we have to reach Ljubljana, where our last actors to interview are waiting for us. It is August 7th and the timing is a bit tight… So, we finish the small hundred kilometers by bus to reach the capital, avoiding the blazing sun and the 30°C of this beginning of August. Three interviews later and a memorable evening in Ljubljana, we are ready for the 13 hours of bus that separate us from Nice, the starting point of this adventure.

Palaiseau, 9am, it's the start of classes and the return to a much less physical but also much less calm daily life. It's also the return to life in society, to the excitement of social interactions and student life. And frankly, it took us a while to get used to it again. Oh no... There are two things that we quickly got back into: a shower and a good bed. We also quickly got back into the project after this month of break, to rest our heads. The last phase of the Transalpins begins now and will end in a year. This last phase is dedicated to editing our documentary. And without hiding it from you, there is a lot of work, maybe more than before leaving, we don't really know. In any case, what we do know is that we have 70 hours of daily videos and interviews to derush. These 70 hours will eventually become a 54-minute film. To do this, the three of us are working with Margot, our super editor who joined us for this last phase and who will be in charge of the final editing.

So, see you at the beginning of September 2025 for the first screening of our documentary, retracing our expedition and our understanding of the wolf problem by the stakeholders in our mountains.

Thanks for reading this!

Jules, Joe, Joseph