The French Alps have a way of making everything feel smaller. Not only the villages scattered across the valleys below or the narrow trails winding through the mountainsides, but also the things we tend to carry with us every day.
Deadlines. Notifications. Expectations.
The constant urge to move faster. Somewhere among the peaks above Saint-Roch, those things gradually lose their importance.
Last week, Yana and Janneke travelled to the French Alps to take part in Le Pilgrimage, a multi-day trail running experience that brings together runners from around the world for several days of movement through one of Europe's most spectacular mountain landscapes.
Officially, the journey covers more than one hundred kilometres and thousands of metres of elevation gain. In reality, those numbers quickly become secondary.
What remains are the people, the places and the rhythm of the days.
Each morning began around a table covered in maps, route profiles and coffee cups. The day's route would be discussed, brevet cards stamped and weather checked one final time before everyone stepped outside and disappeared into the mountains. There was a sense of anticipation, but not the nervous tension that often surrounds races. Nobody was concerned with rankings or finish times. The goal was simply to keep moving forward.
"It's not a race. It's a journey."
And it felt exactly like that.
The days unfolded slowly, despite covering long distances. Conversations drifted between subjects before disappearing into stretches of silence. Climbs arrived without warning and often lasted longer than expected. Water bottles were refilled from mountain fountains. Lunches were eaten sitting on warm rocks overlooking valleys that seemed impossibly far below. Occasionally somebody would stop, not because they were tired, but because the view demanded attention.
In the mountains, progress is rarely linear. Some sections invite you to run freely across rolling trails, while others require patience, careful foot placement and a willingness to slow down. There is no point fighting the terrain. The mountains always decide the pace. The sooner you accept that, the more enjoyable the experience becomes.
What stood out most was how quickly life became simple. The priorities of each day were remarkably uncomplicated: follow the trail, eat enough, drink enough, look after your feet and enjoy the company around you.
Small comforts became meaningful. Cold water from a village fountain. A shaded bench. The first meal after a long day outside. Taking off a running vest that had been worn for hours under the alpine sun.
The photographs capture some of those moments. Route cards being stamped before another day on the trail. Conversations around a wooden table inside an old refuge. A brief stop on a ridgeline while the mountains stretch endlessly into the distance.
Yet photographs rarely capture the feeling itself. They cannot fully show the quiet satisfaction of reaching a high pass after hours of climbing, or the sense of connection that develops when a group of strangers spend several days sharing trails, meals and experiences together.
That may be the real purpose of Le Pilgrimage.
Not the distance covered or the elevation gained, but the opportunity to step away from normal routines and immerse yourself completely in the present moment.
To spend several days focused on little more than movement, nature and human connection.
By the end of the week, nobody seemed particularly interested in the statistics. Instead, people spoke about the mountains. About the conversations. About the refuges. About the moments they would remember long after the soreness disappeared.
And perhaps that is what makes journeys like this so special. Not where they take you. But how they make you feel while you are there.
Thanks to:
Janneke Scherpenhuyzen - @jannekescherpenhuyzen
Yana Strese - @running.yana
In this look
Engineered to complement - refined pieces in balance.
