On These French Ski Slopes, You’re on Your Own

I found myself dangling over Trifides because, for years, I had heard rumors of a traditional French village all but bypassed by time that lay at the foot of a crowd-free mountain where powder lasts for days. I’d heard it was a place where skiers linger over bottles of Burgundy and plates of duck au citron at lunch, then step into climbing harnesses and rappel into runs.

During a week in La Grave in late February, I would discover it was all true. On my first night, I met my guide, Pelle Lang, 55, a former Swedish military sniper turned mountain guide, at the Skiers Lodge, his 33-person hotel and guiding service on La Grave’s main street. Over dinner, lamb topped with Dijon mustard sauce, he told me what to expect.

“At other resorts, the mountain adapts to the skier,” Mr. Lang said. “Here the skier adapts to the mountain.” And…

Read the full article at nytimes.com…

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