Chamounix , the most famous town at the foot of Mont Blanc in France, the city of roses in The Little Prince and the birthplace of mountaineering in the world, was first climbed in 1786 by M.G. Pacal, a doctor from Chamounix, and Balma, a crystal quarryman. Since then, it has become a pilgrimage destination for mountaineers from all over the world. Riding through the fresh air of the mountains, my spirit and body were wrapped up in pure nature.
Horseback Riding Through
The hike from the town of Chamonix to the shepherd's hut of Florie is so refreshing, the valley is cool and pleasant in summer, the air is fragrant with the scent of pine trees and flowers, and the forest is occasionally crossed by a clear stream. At about 1000m above sea level, the mountain turns around and opens up to a corner of the small town of Chamonix, with mountain huts lining the meadows just below, while looking upwards to the year-round snow-covered mountains. By the time we reached the terrace of Florie's Shepherd's Hut and saw the iron-railed hut, hidden in green vines, we were all captivated by the blooming flowers that overlooked the valley.
While mountain climbing and skiing have always been traditional outdoor activities in Chamonix, we wanted to do something new and take a ride through the Alps on a horse. We found the owner's home near the town of Chamonix and were greeted on a wooden porch stacked with skis by a woman in riding boots and a plaid shirt, the hem of which was tucked into tight breeches, so svelte that no one could tell she was nearly 60 years old. Bebe was her Chinese name, a Shanghainese who had lived in the United States in her early years and then liked the place Chamonix to stay. Her husband, Lao Bai, who is French but fluent in Beijing, lived in China for many years as a French expert and now runs a ski school in Chamonix, teaching skiing in the winter. The two of them are like a couple living in seclusion in the Alps.
Bebe's stable has a dozen horses, ranging from regular horses for wild riding to top-notch horses for dressage practice, to pony horses for kids, just a little taller than a seven or eight-year-old. The stable's name is the familiar "Panda" and there's even a clumsy Kung Fu Panda statue. Bebe is a professional rider and practices for an hour or two every day. The well-trained horses were not available for wild riding, though, so we picked out a few ordinary horses and headed into the mountains.
The instructor is a local French girl who seems to be an outdoorsman with several skills here, she is an equestrian instructor in the summer and a ski instructor in the winter and loves the place and the lifestyle of soaking in nature all day. She led us on a ride along the mountain trails along the creek, mostly just a fast and slow pace, only letting go of the reins for a bit when we got to the flat mountain pastures, the instructor was very concerned about the stamina of the horses. The hills are dotted with wooded trails, and from time to time we encounter mountain bikers and runners on our faces, and we have to keep our horses reins tight and aware in time to avoid them.
From the horse's back you could see the towering mountains and the glistening glaciers just by tilting your head, even the broken ice formed by gravity squeezing the front edge of the glacier. Sometimes you also pass delicate villages where the sound of horses' hooves breaks the quiet of the village. Here the buildings are two or three storey traditional wooden houses with flowers growing in front and behind them, and the horses often like to come close and smell them.
Hiking White Lake
Horses have specific routes to travel and there are routes that horses are not allowed in, so we will have to hike to them. The White Lake (Lacblanc) is a stunning alpine lake hidden deep in the mountains, and we will hike along the gravel road at our feet towards the top of the mountain. Soon after we start, the wide gravel road becomes narrower, the gravel gradually gets bigger and more rugged. But moving up, the Alpine grandeur can already be appreciated at this certain altitude: a number of snowy peaks line the horizon, with multiple glaciers dangling like tassels from a notch between two mountains, gracefully stretching down the mountainside. The cluster of snow-capped peaks kept juxtaposing our hiking route on the other side of the valley, faithfully serving as a faded backdrop for the hikers.
Just as we were slogging along with our heads down in the hot sun, a rock goat gave us an unexpected surprise, standing so titanically on the cliff around the corner that we almost collided with it. Its long horns curved proudly against the blue sky, and its bulging eyes glared at our uninvited guests. But it seemed to have grown accustomed to the crowds, and after glancing at each other for a moment, it brushed past us and left us dumbfounded people standing there, slowly regaining our senses. The static plants were also as much a host to the Alps as the dynamic life, and as we gained altitude, a large number of alpine flowers appeared around us, mostly fuchsia, blooming in the low bushes, backed by the snow-capped mountains in the distance.
The road signs pointing all the way were clear, and after going over a small slope mixed with snow and ice, White Lake appeared before us unexpectedly. The lake in front of us was like a crystal clear sapphire, set in the earth, glowing brightly in the sunlight, and the overall mood was calm and poetic. If you go around to the other side of the lake, it is another scene: the beautiful and upright snow-capped peaks are reflected in the lake, creating a pure and tranquil atmosphere. The distant mountains and the near lake, the layers of distance and proximity all seem reasonable and harmonious. The majestic grandeur of the distant mountains under the blue sky, coming straight at you, and a touch of clouds lingering on top of the mountains, were layered and visually striking. I ordered a cup of coffee at the restaurant by the lake and indulged in the beauty of the lake and the mountains.