Start: La Thuille/Finish: Rifugio Deffayes, 9.5, +1033, -48
If yersterda'ys hike is anything to go by, today should take me 3.5 hours.
Out of town, into the forest and up to La Joux, a small cluster of buildings with a parking lot. At the height of the season there's a shuttle from town, allowing you to skip an hour on mostly paved roads. But I missed it by a few days. The trail to Cascate del Rutor starts here, a tourist attraction even at the end of August. It's a set of waterfalls, water coming down from the Rutor glacier. Each waterfall is more impressive than the other, with the third one requiring a 2-3 minutes detour from the trail. It's well worth it: the plentifulness of water is a fact of life here, and still the waterfalls make me stop and admire the strength of nature. The bridge across the water allows you to stand above the flowing river, the sound of water falling on rocks drowning out everything else.
At the waterfalls
Spending a few minutes marveling at the waterfalls, the trail then turns into a steady climb through the forest and into the marsh. I stop for an early lunch and a nap at Lacs du Glacier. It's perhaps the first time where I stop for a mid-hike rest and share it with many others picnicking.
I can see the green turning into yellow. Soon this will be brown, and summer will end
So far I'm completely aligned with the timing. But the nap makes me sleepy, rather than energized, and the last stretch, steeper than before, is difficult. I decide that the only way to handle my disappointed is a distraction. Knowing that I will shortly be at the hut, I allow myself to waste battery power and listen to a podcast. The intellectual banter of "no such thing as a fish" keeps me company for a while.
Rifugio Deffeyes is set halfway up a hill, below the Rutor glaciers. With the remaining day hikers finishing their drinks and starting on their journey down, I go exploring. Below the hut is Lago Inferior del Rutor, a small alpine lake, and a hill above is is that Cappella di Santa Margherita al Rutor, yet another tiny church in the middle of nowhere.
The hut is popular with mountaineers exploring the glacier, and even this late in the season it's half full. There's a rambunctious group of French men, a few Italian groups and a German couple with their seven year old son. They are sat next to me at dinner, and we strike a conversation mixing English and German. The child finds my very bad German funny (so do I), but we are able to communicate with some help from his parents. He is curious and inquisitive and I'm embarrassed by how bad my German is.
The chapel above the lake, the glacier can be seen on the left
It's early night for me, as tomorrow is an extra long day. I share a dormitory with a couple, the German family and a man on his own, each of us assigned our own corner of the room. I'm cold, so I grab a blanket from the pile on the bunk next to me. But then I think that perhaps with covid, I'm not allowed to use them - I've been hearing that in some huts they no longer provide blankets, though I myself have not encountered that yet. My brain latches on to this thought, and I spend the rest of the night feeling guilty, creating imaginary scenarios in which I'm told off for breaking the rules. I toss and turn, worried about disturbing my bunk mates . I chase sleep by counting my own heartbeats and I guess it works because I end up falling asleep, far far too late into the night.
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