Close to the Mercantour,
two superb alpine hikes
Nice hinterland,
the Cougourde and Lake Trécolpas
From St-Martin-Vésubie going up the Boréon valley, you reach an upper car park after having climbed a track by car.
From this parking lot at 1670m, very frequented in June, a superb hike will take us to the Cougourde refuge then to Trécolpas lake, under a constant sun.
In total, a vertical drop of 500m (nothing short of an achievement).
Higher up, from the foot of a very wide open slope, a chamois passes in the distance. The first of our stay, barely noticed.
With the clearings becoming more frequent, the panorama opens onto superb landscapes towards the peaks of Cougourde and Pas de Ladres.
The first discreet clumps of rhododendrons begin to appear, then bloom.
The initially sunken path rises quietly in a small balcony through a sparse forest, skirting the torrent, which it crosses several times on well-maintained wooden bridges.
A small detention close to departure forms a tiny lake limpid.
Through the rocks, at the same time as the forest becomes sparse, the slope becomes steeper, the torrent impetuous.
From time to time, steps have been carved into the rock for the convenience of the passer-by.
Finally, here is the modern Cougourde refuge, on a quiet plateau, at the foot of the mountain in the background.
Short break at the refuge. The young host identifies animals with strong and beautiful horns with ringed relief who quietly approach the refuge but stay a few tens of meters away: they are female ibex, used to coming to pick up the remains of food pier from the terrace of the refuge (to be avoided, however, in the recommendations specific to the Parc du Mercantour in which we are).
Males do not deign to descend from their arrogant heights; they leave to the girls, small horns, this vulgar and flabby ease of eating ...
We won't see them at all, anywhere.
Here is the Cougourde itself, really in the shape of a massive squash, mighty spur rounded like Rio's sugar loaf, everything of gneiss say geologists.
With to his right on the way up other peaks with a more acute profile, peaking at 2600 or 2700m.
Then the path descends through the intense ruby-fuschia of the rhododendrons, more dense towards the lake of Trécolpas.
Before climbing again a narrow path on a balcony, sometimes through an animated gravel, or crossing a torrent which widens down the slope, and which little by little one would hear here rustling.
Often, having reached some corner, glorious perspectives suddenly open up on the summits of the south-east.
On its hollow flat at the foot of the massif, the green water of Lake Trécolpas is crystalline, at the foot of the promontory of a huge rock that forms a peninsula.
Magnificent landscape of this circus in the total calm swept by a small wind, under the stretched shreds of snowfields at the foot of the cliffs.
The time for another beneficial break, it is now the rather steep descent towards the valley.
We find the torrent below, then the path taken to the ascent.
In the discreet shade of an overhanging rock, a barely startled chamois a few meters from our path is resting.
Our 2nd chamois, this time observed from closer.
Nice hinterland, the lakes of Prals
Another day, this time going up the Vésubie valley which turns into a torrent, and no longer that of Boréon, we climb by car to the beautiful cul-de-sac site of the Madonna of Fenestre.
For the IGN, “fenestre” here means “end of the earth” rather than “window”, even if the pass could constitute a “window” towards the other Italian side.
On its balcony plateau, the sanctuary, at 1904m, is at the foot of the highest peak in the Maritime Alps, Mont Gélas, which rises to 3,143 m.
There from behind is therefore the Fenestre pass at more than 2400 m, through which one of the salt routes to the west since the Middle Ages.
The sanctuary of ND de Fenestre
In 887, the Benedictines build a chapel named ND of Grace. The Saracens in foray over here from the coast the also destroy dry.
The sanctuary and its chapel are rebuilt and serve as a hospital in the 13th century under the tutelage, it is said, of Templars .
Then it depends on the abbey of Borgo San Dalmazzo ( Italy ) under the dependence of Nice cathedral.
From 1388 (dedition of Nice to Savoy), it is the best passage and refuge for travelers Between Nice and the Piedmont speak Fenestre pass .
Burned down several times until the 19th century itself, sometimes looted, the sanctuary was rebuilt and restored at the end of the 19th century.
It is part of the last territorial fringe Italian to be passed back to France in 1947.
It is said that he Also owes its durability to its robust architecture which resists snow drifts and strong winds from the pass corridor during winter.
Our hike will be limited to the ascent by tag 361 to the west to the lakes of Prals (tag 366) then return by the same path, for a total vertical drop of about 440 m (not a feat no more).
There more than elsewhere, we will perceive all the assets of the Mercantour Park, another sanctuary, secular this one, the one mountain animals.
Once you have crossed the entrance next to a well-kept planter where edelweiss flourish, the chapel, soberly decorated, with ceilings and arches of a beautiful blue tone inspires serenity.
The polychrome Madonna behind the altar (the altarpiece) would be in cedar of Lebanon and would date from the 14th century. The altarpiece itself appears to be from the Baroque era
After an almost horizontal stretch of route which enters a forest with clearings, the climb takes shape along the valley of Prals.
We surprise one or two chamois which suddenly appear and continue their abrupt cavalcade towards the thicker undergrowth. A few seconds, the throbbing pulsates of the dread of the brutal tumbler.
The start of the hike is below the Fenestre plateau, along the road, with no real place to park the car properly. While he would have enough, lazy that we are, to start rather from the plateau above, where is fitted out a very large parking lot.
In these open spaces rich in beautiful grass, here are finally, in addition to the placid cattle, the other symbolic animals of the national park of Mercantour created in 1979, chamois with elegant arched horns and burrowing marmots.
For wolves, you have to visit Alpha Park above Lake Boréon and for male ibex at the most extreme heights.
We will not see either (locked up) or the other (outside of our very under-trained physical capacity and whose asymptote is approaching its limit day by day).
Then the path climbs along the stream which runs down the valley, gradually discover the undergrowth, to reach an immense sloping plateau which widens out and is no longer bounded except by the peaks of rock dark curly of short grass, whose surrounding ridges are still young.
The circus at the bottom holds the small lakes of Prals.
There on the gentle slopes of the plateau graze or sleepy, ruminating cows with clarines on the thick grass, dotted with beautiful clumps of rhododendrons.
Note with what concentration each of the two cattle below is looking at a different peak.
As for them, the marmots are completely discreet here: never a whistle of warning.
They do not perceive visitors as a danger, unlike those we hear, often without even noticing them, on other sites in the Savoy Alps. North.
So much so that, sometimes, we only see them at the last moment at less than 10 meters, almost under our feet, after having searched for them for a long time in vain.
They then flee without haste or else observe us with curiosity in an almost indifferent immobility.
Happiness for the observer.
All efforts to protect flora and fauna bear their fruit here.
In total freedom and left to their own devices under surveillance, the animals have instinctively learned, after several generations, that they have nothing to fear from visitors.
So much so that the chamois in small groups frolic at a respectable distance (20 to 40 meters) and approach closer, curious.
A mother is sometimes accompanied by her young already very adolescent.
The very hollow path rises in a small balcony in the middle of sparse shrubs and small fir trees, unrolling at their foot wonderful clumps of rhododendrons mixed with gentians and the gold of buttons.
Other paths then meander through the grass; one, which we will not take - retrospective regret - goes up to the pass.
On its crest a few silhouettes of hikers stand out contemplative, before they rock on the other side to close the loop.
Then, turned into rubble, it takes a steeper slope before falling onto the plateau of the cirque at the foot of which several small lakes reflect the clarity of the sky without brilliance. blue.
The lakes of Prals.
on the way up
on the descent
There, in the soft grass, a well-deserved break, before coming back down soon.
In this perfect calm, a curious chamois comes to pay us a furtive but peaceful visit, without haste, a few meters away.
Then, slowly rounding us, grazing here and there, he proudly walks away for us to offer his best profile; with consummate art, he takes advantage of rhododendrons between which he passes with a sober grace, which make him like an assert, raising his perfect and long imp horns.
Even the chamois are boobies.
Then it is the descent, by the same path, where we again meet chamois and marmots, now familiar, who recognize us and challenge us mockingly: "ha! Ha! Not even went around up there !!".
We reach the car just before a short, heavy downpour, so rare during our stay.