I almost didn’t go out today.
Every webcam in Chamonix looked like it had been dipped in milk. Snow stuck to the lenses, zero contrast, no definition. The kind of morning where everyone starts saying things like “might as well have a long breakfast” and “see how it looks later”.
Flégère looked miserable. Just grey on grey. Brevent had the tiniest glimmer of hope between snowflakes, enough to make the decision annoying rather than obvious.
The view from town (below) was a little ominous but showed pockets of sunshine.
So I went.
By the time I got to the top it was full whiteout. Proper flat light. No shadows, no horizon, no sense of pitch. The sort of visibility that makes even familiar terrain feel slightly unreal.
Crazy to think there’s an entire town and mountain in the picture below!
But honestly? I had a great day.
Not a big day. Not an impressive day. Just a really fun one.
I nearly didn’t bother
I stood there staring at the webcams. Lenses iced over. Grey everywhere. Flegere looked grim. The sort of day you talk yourself out of riding and convince yourself you’re being sensible. “I’ll rest up my legs ready for tomorrow”.
Brevent had one tiny patch that looked slightly less awful. That was enough. Sometimes you just have to pick something and go, otherwise you end up drinking bad coffee and watching snow fall from a window instead of riding in it.
So I went Brevent anyway.
Sources saved the day
As you’ve seen, the top was bruuutal. The only routes down from the peak are black runs. They’re pretty gnarly at the best of times, but the lighting was something else. No depth. No contrast. Just that weird floating feeling where the ground doesn’t quite exist.
I swiftly made my way down in search of better terrain.
The “Sources” run was the obvious move. It’s narrow and it drops into trees quickly. Trees give your eyes something to latch onto when everything else disappears. Poles, shadows, trunks, edges of snowbanks. Your brain relaxes instantly.
It’s a blue, technically. But on a day like today, it’s about as steep as I’d want to go when hauling ass in slightly sketchy conditions.
Why I like trees in flat light
Flat light doesn’t care how good you are. It humbles everyone. So it’s important to use natural features to your advantage.
As I already touched on, trees provide a visual reference point and are often still rideable in crappy lighting. They also block some of the wind and snowfall, which helps.
Plus in the trees, you stop riding fast and start riding deliberately. Short turns. Feeling the snow. Listening to your board instead of trusting your eyes.
I lapped it over and over. Same line. Same bumps. Same little surprises. That’s the gift of re-running the same laps in low visibility. You know what’s coming, so you can actually play.
What I was riding
For what it’s worth, I was on my Rome Stale Crewzer with Union Atlas Step Ons. Not because I was testing anything. Just because that’s what I had under my feet that day. Short, stable, happy at slower speeds and easy to mess around on when you’re lapping the same run and not in a rush to get anywhere.
The toeside bank
Regular readers know how much I freaking love runs with a side-bank on my toeside edge. There’s one down the right side of Sources that’s money if you ride regular. Just enough shape to work with.
I spent half the day riding up and down that thing. Toeside slashes. Little bursts of speed. Letting the board climb, stall, drop back in. It felt more like surfing than snowboarding for a while. I lapped that sucker for a full hour.
Pumping, side hits and messing about
When visibility sucks, you stop looking for big lines and start noticing small ones.
I pumped rollers like they were waves. Took little side hits that I’d normally ignore. Played around with butters. Nothing pretty. Nothing worth filming. Just riding.
That’s when snowboarding is at its best for me. When it stops being about progression and get’s back to the messing around.
Cornu was pointless
I gave Cornu a go out of stubborn optimism (probably my favorite run in Chamonix).
It was exactly as useless as expected. Wide open. No references. Just white on white on more white. A couple of people disappeared into the fog like ghosts and that was enough for me.
Sometimes the right decision is turning around and laughing at yourself for even trying. Back to the trees and toeside bank for me!
When the light finally showed up
Every now and then the cloud thinned just enough to let some light through. Not a view. Not a panorama. Just enough definition to make me feel brave.
Those moments were chaos. People suddenly charging into fresh patches. A couple of ridiculous turns. Then back into the grey.
They didn’t last long, but they were fun.
Why I’m glad I went
I won’t pretend there wasn’t a bit of smug satisfaction at the end of the day.
That quiet buzz of being wet, tired, legs cooked and knowing you made the right call while everyone else waited it out indoors.
It wasn’t an epic Chamonix day. No big lines, no views, no hero moments. I rode one run that worked, messed around, slashed a bank and played with the board.
But it was fun. Proper fun. Engaged, switched on, vibing-on-the-lift fun.
And honestly, even if it had been rubbish, a bad day snowboarding still beats a good day in the office (this just happened to be a really good one anyway).
So yeah. If you’re currently on a trip with questionable conditions and debating whether to get out there, get out. Just do it sensibly.
