This year's Chamonix fairytale started immediately upon our arrival, when heavy snowing greeted us at the exit of the Mont Blanc tunnel. Chamonix was covered with 40 centimeters of fresh snow and we instantly started dreaming of the powder that was piling up on the slopes. We could not wait to decide which slopes to hit next morning. But it was still snowing heavily when we woke up. Still, we decided to draw some lines and hoped for the best – but many lifts were not working. We decided for Flegere, where we made a ride or two, and then used the connecting gondola to Brevent. There we found some waist-deep fresh powder and despite the fog had an amazing time. We split on the second day. Some of headed for Le Tour and some for Aguille du Midi, where we stopped at the middle station and skied down to the valley. Both groups enjoyed some wonderful powder.
The third day was the best one so far. We decided to go to Grandes Montetes. At the top we agreed to hit the couloir under Les Drus. We knew we would be the first to ski it, since there were no lines in the snow. Even for the experienced mountain guides this was an amazing experience. The powder was fresh and light, the sun was crawling up from behind the mountains and the complete silence surrounded the group of eight. Being there, surrounded by magnificent peaks, hiding under the white blanket, felt surreal. We felt the essence of freeride skiing and this day filled us with joy, awe and respect towards the mountains.
On the fourth day we went to the top of Aguille du Midi, again, to find nothing but intact slopes ahead of us. The line was not open for skiers in previous days, hence the scarcity of interest. The weather was slightly colder and windier than the day before, but this did not lessen the sheer luck we felt while skiing.
Looking back up from the valley, thinking about the slopes we hit first and the lines that we drew in the powder of Chamonix, smiles were still shining on our faces. And then we headed for a beer, thinking about marvelous lines to be drawn, like a thread that bounds us to this place.