The words you’re about to read are written by Olivia Mullan - an avid climber and trail runner with a deep love for the outdoors. Olivia doesn’t just focus on the peaks and trails themselves; she’s always searching for the people’s angle, the human stories that shape our connection to wild places. Through her writing, she brings these perspectives to life, inviting readers to see the outdoors not only as landscapes to explore, but as spaces where people, experiences, and stories come together.
A Dirtbag’s Dream - My summer in Chamonix
Paragliders circle above my head as I traverse a ridge 2,500m up. I hear their whoops of appreciation over their early morning flight. Holding my safety rope is a girl I befriended last night over a beer. Chamonix is the collection of extremists I was promised - and I love it.
This summer, I went to Chamonix for adventure. As an enthusiastic trail runner and climber my plan was simple - get as many experiences whilst spending as little as possible. The trip would be rounded off with the UTMB Mont-Blanc hosted in the town. It was a month of gruelling tinned foodstuffs in an enviable setting.
New Routes, New Heights – My introduction to granite
To start the trip, we needed to get adjusted to the granite slabs of the region. Friend, Anastasia, and I relished the easy access of valley-floor crags as within a few paces you could have dark, almond-shaped blocks looming above you. As quickly as we approached, we were humbled by French climbing grades. But, bruised egos were remedied with unbeatable crag-side camaraderie. Within days our gaze had begun to focus on the massif that shrouds the valley floor.
Alpinism had been on my bucket list for years and I took my first tentative steps at Aguilles Rouges, specifically on the Crochues Traverse. I acquired an enthusiastic Czech girl from a bar to accompany me on this three star route. Taking the first lift from PlanPraz, Marcela and I approached the start with the novel sound of marmot shrieks. Via an easy trad climb we gained a view of Col de Salenton. We then traversed the ridge line towards Lac Blanc navigating mountain goats and sheer edges.
Days later, a chance encounter with five members of the German Alpine Club would bring me over the Swiss border. With Anastasia headed back to England, I was invited to even out their numbers. After being given cryptic coordinates, I hiked the two hours to meet part of the group for a two day bivouac next to Glacier d’Orny.
The excursion proved to be one of my most trying endeavours, with -3˚C nighttime temperatures, limited food, and definitely no showers. In one instance of airy exposure, I recall letting out an unrecognisable scream into the one-hundred metres or so below me. Undoubtedly, being awoken in the night by the sound of rockfall will not be something I forget too soon.
Atmosphere and Inclines - Chamonix’s trail running scene
Bad weather brought new adventures and, with the UTMB Mont-Blanc approaching, Chamonix came alive with trail running enthusiasts. I got to know some of these rocky trails alongside local runners with can-do attitudes and a deep love for calf-eating incline.
The unifying effect of trails was striking during UTMB with the crowd’s rallying cries and beating of panelling filling the town. Tom Evan’s cool triumph and the mood of the crowd, for me, epitomised all that I loved about Chamonix.
Between judging the extent of brake failure to scaling pillars of rock, Chamonix was my self-described ‘Dirtbag’ dream. One could never be bored of its views, and certainly never bored by the people it drew in. Extreme sport has an undeniable synergistic effect.
