Sometimes you choose to visit a ski resort for thrillingly shallow reasons: because bits of it are steep or deep or long; because of where it is; because of its reputation. At other times, the attraction is more subtle. The main factor driving my curiosity for the Jura Mountains: a growing affinity with small, community resorts – the kind of places where locals go to ski, that feel part of the culture and not somehow transplanted.
On paper, the Jura Mountains are France's best kept secret, and one of the least explored pockets of the Alps. Straddling the Franco-Swiss border, the Jura Mountains extend for a 250km arc from the Rhone to the Rhine. The ski route, which was first completed in 1978 (the year I was born), crosses the Haut-Jura regional park and follows much of the route of the world famous Transjurassiene ski race. Unlike the jagged peaks of the Alps, the landscape is more Nordic and rolling.
My plan was simple. I would ski a bit and eat a lot. My Grande Traversée du Jura (GTJ) starts in the Swiss town of St. Croix and ends 153 kilometers later at Giron, France.
Upon arrival in St. Croix, I carelessly and recklessly throw away my original plan (short taxi transfer to the trail head at Les Fourgs) in favour of the more adventurous option of following vague instructions from the Hotel owner to ski across Swiss snow-covered meadows to join the GTJ on the French border.
A short hike through town to the Col des Etroits and armed only with a tourist map, I am ready to depart on my cross-country skiing tour. After a shortly while the track splits, whereas the map shows just one route. I choose the left track simply because it does not cross a road (and there is no road marked on my map). After a little while further, the route begins to descend. The groomed piste then disappears and becomes a vague route on hard compacted snow. I am now picking up a bit too much speed on this descent. As I ski over and around all the bumps, a narrow road appears before me. I need to make a short, sharp turn to brake, but these are not the skis for that job, so I head for a part of the road that has a thin layer of snow. As I land from the small drop-off between the field and road, I realise that the road is covered in ice, not snow. I struggle to land and end up folded over looking between my legs at an oncoming red Swiss car. I try to scramble out of the way, but I have no traction at all. I resign myself to the inevitable skidding of tires and painful impact, but, to my surprise and relief, she simply squeezed past me. Is it wrong of me to question why she did not stop to see if I was OK?
On the other side of the road, I continue to follow the vague trial until it truly disappears. I take off my skis to hike up a narrow trial up through pine trees to reach La Gittaz Dessous. Here, with a weird mixture of happiness and anger, I find the correct trail and make up for lost time. I ski along the perfectly groomed piste, down through pine trees and across the gentle terrain to the border.
Shortly after crossing the border, I picked up the signs for GTJ to Les Hôpitaux Vieux. With navigation issues a thing of the past, I follow the well marked ski trail over a handy ski bridge to the snow-starved village of Les Hôpitaux Neufs. The GTJ ski trail continues gently over undulating terrain to a small ski town of Metabief.
Alternating through forests and clearings, used in summer as pastures for cattle, I join a network of trails where I begin to climb to the plateau of the 'Mont d'Or’, before dropping down to Longeville-Mont-d’Or for a well earned rest.
Distance: 32.5km
On paper, the Jura Mountains are France's best kept secret, and one of the least explored pockets of the Alps. Straddling the Franco-Swiss border, the Jura Mountains extend for a 250km arc from the Rhone to the Rhine. The ski route, which was first completed in 1978 (the year I was born), crosses the Haut-Jura regional park and follows much of the route of the world famous Transjurassiene ski race. Unlike the jagged peaks of the Alps, the landscape is more Nordic and rolling.
My plan was simple. I would ski a bit and eat a lot. My Grande Traversée du Jura (GTJ) starts in the Swiss town of St. Croix and ends 153 kilometers later at Giron, France.
Upon arrival in St. Croix, I carelessly and recklessly throw away my original plan (short taxi transfer to the trail head at Les Fourgs) in favour of the more adventurous option of following vague instructions from the Hotel owner to ski across Swiss snow-covered meadows to join the GTJ on the French border.
A short hike through town to the Col des Etroits and armed only with a tourist map, I am ready to depart on my cross-country skiing tour. After a shortly while the track splits, whereas the map shows just one route. I choose the left track simply because it does not cross a road (and there is no road marked on my map). After a little while further, the route begins to descend. The groomed piste then disappears and becomes a vague route on hard compacted snow. I am now picking up a bit too much speed on this descent. As I ski over and around all the bumps, a narrow road appears before me. I need to make a short, sharp turn to brake, but these are not the skis for that job, so I head for a part of the road that has a thin layer of snow. As I land from the small drop-off between the field and road, I realise that the road is covered in ice, not snow. I struggle to land and end up folded over looking between my legs at an oncoming red Swiss car. I try to scramble out of the way, but I have no traction at all. I resign myself to the inevitable skidding of tires and painful impact, but, to my surprise and relief, she simply squeezed past me. Is it wrong of me to question why she did not stop to see if I was OK?
On the other side of the road, I continue to follow the vague trial until it truly disappears. I take off my skis to hike up a narrow trial up through pine trees to reach La Gittaz Dessous. Here, with a weird mixture of happiness and anger, I find the correct trail and make up for lost time. I ski along the perfectly groomed piste, down through pine trees and across the gentle terrain to the border.
Shortly after crossing the border, I picked up the signs for GTJ to Les Hôpitaux Vieux. With navigation issues a thing of the past, I follow the well marked ski trail over a handy ski bridge to the snow-starved village of Les Hôpitaux Neufs. The GTJ ski trail continues gently over undulating terrain to a small ski town of Metabief.
Alternating through forests and clearings, used in summer as pastures for cattle, I join a network of trails where I begin to climb to the plateau of the 'Mont d'Or’, before dropping down to Longeville-Mont-d’Or for a well earned rest.
Distance: 32.5km
1 comment:
Alone 😱 glad it all worked out for you but seems a bit dangerous 🤔🙄😱😁
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