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Travel on Trial: Rising to the challenge of the Night Snow Trail run in the French Alps

Travel on Trial: The Night Snow Trail
Travel on Trial: The Night Snow Trail

A friend with an eye for this sort of thing once told me I had the perfect body for middle-distance running. Five years later, still not really sure what she meant and staring down the shotgun of middle age with not a lot to show for it – bar a frozen shoulder and a hernia I’ve not told my insurance company about – I wonder if I’m too late to join the party. Pounding the pavement doesn’t appeal, but fresh air in beautiful surroundings on a meandering path, soft underfoot… it’s no wonder trail running has taken off quite like it has. But on snow? At altitude? In the dark?

Pleasingly, such a thing exists, high above the French ski resort of Les Deux Alpes. By the light of an almost full moon, the Night Snow Trail offers distances of 5, 10, 15 and 20km. The 10km looked perfect for an athletic bluffer such as myself. Apart from a 721ft ascent, it’s mostly downhill. What could possibly go wrong?

Very little, but the organisers aren’t prepared to risk anything, so on arrival there is the formality of acquiring a medical certificate. This is France, after all. Ticking “no” to every potential ailment, specifically ignoring anything that sounded hernia-related, I was ushered in to Dr Bernard for a quick once-over.

Travel on Trial: The Night Snow Trail
Travel on Trial: The Night Snow Trail

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“Your pulse is a little high,” he noted, puffing up the armband. “It’s all the lies,” I was tempted to reply. But, €40 later and with an apparently clean bill of health, I was good to go. As dusk began to fall, more than 500 runners gathered at the Oeufs Blancs lift station. This vintage gondola will be replaced in time, but for now it’s a delightfully retro journey up to the start line at 7,181ft.

Fresh snow had fallen most of the night before, and I saw men and women across a range of ages. They did, however, all look as though they had done this a lot. Or at least before. And they all appeared to be wearing more clothes than me. My lightweight waterproof and black merino polo neck from posh outfitters Iffley Road was part Milk Tray Man, part jazz musician, but would it be warm enough? I noticed others carefully pinning their race numbers to their tights so as not to puncture their expensive jackets, so I did the same.

The race organisers stipulate only that thermal tights, jacket, gloves, hat and head torch must be worn. Some people were holding running poles, which looked awkward to carry but potentially helpful in the soft snow. Possibly more effective would be the mini-crampons I had borrowed, but there was no time for prevarication; the klaxon sounded and we were off.

Exploding out of the paddock, it quickly became apparent that I had misunderstood the first part – it’s 721ft in vertical ascent, not distance. I settled into a jog, then a power walk and, finally, like everyone else, a slow trudge. Remember March of the Penguins? It was a bit like that. The best tactic is to find someone of a similar gait and walk behind in their footprints, because stepping uphill into soft snow is every bit as energy-sapping as you’d expect.

Travel on Trial:
Travel on Trial:

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I never quite established how long this section was – probably not very – but something even harder beckoned when it ended: breaking into a run again. This was a horrifying shock for the legs, but once they were convinced they were going downhill at last, it was actually quite fun. Everyone’s headlights shone like beacons (except for mine, which conked out while it was still daylight).

As the night came down, 500-odd torches created a marvellous snakelike glow, flowing down the mountain in an undulating ribbon of light. My fears of getting cold were unfounded; the gloves actually came off for most of the race. The snow cannons belted out a flurry of powder and we settled into a rhythm. I overtook some; some overtook me, but mostly I remained in the middle of the pack. Perhaps this is what middle-distance running means?

When the village came into sight, I vowed to throw off the glib shackles of insouciance and go all-out – but there was nothing left in the tank. I clocked in at about an hour, privately thrilled even to have finished. I felt I fully deserved both the beers my drinks tokens afforded. This is France, after all. Naturally, there was a hot meal too, and the bonhomie at the finish line was great fun. The most important thing to take is a running mate – there is much camaraderie and I missed having someone to share it with. I’ve vowed to come back for the 15km. But first, I need to get this hernia seen to…

EasyJet flies to Grenoble from £42 return. Private minibus transfers to Les Deux Alpes cost from £32.50pp with Ski-Lifts. Matt Hampton stayed at Le Souleil’Or, which has doubles from €107. Race entry is €15 (£12.50) for 5km and €25 for 10-20km, including post-race drinks, snacks and a hot meal (les2alpes.com).

Worth a try? | The Verdict
Worth a try? | The Verdict