Courmayeur

Entranced by our beautiful weekend in Switzerland, we came to the conclusion that we simply must spend more time hiking in the Alps while weather still permitted.  To do so, we drove out to Courmayeur, a small Italian town right by the French-Italian border, to experience Monte Bianco, or Mont Blanc, which is the tallest mountain in Western Europe.  Even though it was warming up quite nicely in Novara, we knew that it would be at least a little bit colder in the mountains and packed sweatshirts and fleeces for our hike.

Driving into Courmayeur was beautiful.  Though we couldn't see very far due to the dense fog, mountains and hillsides would slowly materialize out of the haze, making for a pretty cool journey.

After a few hours in the car, we finally arrived in Courmayeur, got out of the car to eagerly breathe the fresh mountain air, and recoiled immediately at the freezing temperatures that met us.  This was not exactly what we were expecting.  We bundled up in every single layer we had available, and headed towards town for lunch.  Courmayeur itself was a beautiful and quaint town, definitely Italian but with visible French and Swiss accents everywhere.  We de-thawed in a rustic little cafe where we had cappuccinos and crepes (delicious), and set out again.

We took a small detour to buy Luke a Patagonia better sweater in an effort to combat the cold (which I can't complain about since I got to pile on all of his discarded layers), and finally found ourselves a hiking path.  It lead us through fields and tiny little towns, all of which were enhanced by the ever-present misty mountains in the background.

Weaving our way through a constant procession of Europeans running some kind of race (in which many of them were evidently in teams as they were decked out in matching costumes - we hiked past racers who were dressed as fur-covered animals, those who chose to don full body paint, a lot of really crazy hats, and some in three-piece suits).  Amidst the parade, we found ourselves here:

Electing to branch off and follow "the road less taken," we climbed alongside the mini-waterfalls until we came upon what appeared to be a dried-out riverbed, that now only housed a small stream.  Of course, we decided this was our new path.

As we climbed higher, it began to mist more heavily.  It was a really incredible feeling to be surrounded only by utter silence, beautiful scenery, and each other.

In the riverbed, Luke exercised some of his artistic photography skills with these amazingly vibrant leaves that were scattered about.  They way they held the water droplets and stood out so starkly against the rock was really beautiful.

This one below is my favorite.

At some point during our exploration, the mist turned to snow.  Despite progressively turning numb from the cold, it was really incredible to look out at the first snow fall of the year on the mountains. 

From the riverbed, we noticed a waterfall a ways away (which you can barely see at the bottom of the picture above).  Naturally, we decided to go find it.

Exiting the wide path of the riverbed, we continued alongside a stream.  And when I say alongside, I mean literally along the slope of the stream.  The climb got a little sketchy now and then, but we knew it would be worth it once we reached that waterfall.

That hooded figure who is barely visible through her twenty layers of clothing would be me.

Success! 

After taking a few minutes to marvel at the beauty around us and celebrate our victory, we cracked open a bottle of wine and attempted to enjoy it while sitting on a boulder that looked out into the mountains surrounding us.  Unfortunately, the dampness and the cold kept us from staying too long, so we began our decent, taking our wine "to go."

While most of the trees hadn't yet begun to turn, there would be patches here and there on the mountainside that were really striking and beautiful.

Tailgating along the way!

Exhausted from our climb and more than ready to thaw out, we stopped at a pub in town where we got a beer for Luke and a coffee with Bailey's for me (which literally turned out to be a huge mug of Bailey's with a small shot of espresso in it - probably a 5:1 Bailey's to coffee ratio).  It was hard to leave such a beautiful town, especially when our walk to the car looked like this:

We headed home with the heat on full blast, stopping in Aosta for a delicious dinner of much-deserved pizza and pasta.  I don't think we'll ever forget our frigid hike on Mont Blanc; it definitely taught us to always bring very warm clothing no matter what the weather says it will be, but mostly because of the incredible feelings of serenity and peacefulness that the mountain offered, eliminating any other feelings of stress or discontent that had previously consumed us.