Luging in the Alpes ~ It's Not Just for Kids

There aren’t many places in the world where you can be at a sun-kissed beach lined with palm trees in the morning and then be in the rugged mountains knee deep in snow by lunch. Welcome to the Alpes-Maritimes region in the South of France. 

With some friends, I went luging in the Alpes on a beautiful January day, played like a child and had a blast! I don’t remember the last time I went sledding. 

When we started the trip, the temp in the car read 15°C (that's 59°F for you folks back home). By the time we reached our destination, just a couple hours later, the temp had dropped to 1°C (33°F). But the day was ideal – Brilliant blue skies, no wind, and peaceful. Those of you who like me grew up around snow know the kind of day I'm talking about. Snow is everywhere, but you end up skiing without your jacket, because it's too hot! 

We luged on three hills in all, but it was the second one that deserves mentioning. After warming up on a smaller hill, we trekked on over to a monster hill which I would've called a mountain for sure. There we found a bunch of serious (crazy?) people sledding. Philippe pointed toward the top and said, That’s where we were going. Eh?! Say that again? It was the mother of all hills, the black diamond, the Grand Pooh-Bah, the commander-in-chief, OZ. I felt pretty tiny, scared, and expendable. Wait a minute. Are those little kids sledding down that thing? OK, step aside people. 

With my luge (which is French for sled) in tow, I made my way up the monster, pretending I was full of confidence. Two-thirds of the way up, I stopped, turned around and said, Oh hell no! I felt like I was miles above everyone. Plus, at an elevation of 4,592ft I just felt higher up. The people at the bottom were dots to me. Little black dots. Red dots. Blue dots. And that little snow bank at the bottom is supposed to stop me? 

I’d like to say that my first run was graceful. I’m not sure who it was worse for, me, or the 4-yr-old that I punted into the air like a football. Poor little guy, never saw me coming, even though I was yelling “look out” in French, “Attention!!” Still he managed to be right there and BAM! Up in the air maybe 3 or 4 feet above my head he went. He then executed a perfect 360 midair, like a human pinwheel actually, arms and legs all straight out. He landed right back down on top of me. Ugh. Didn't see that coming. He wasn’t crying, but was clearly stunned into shock. 

Map of The Alps | lucky for me, I live inside the red!

Since neither of us was hurt, I found this to be hilarious, but held back my laughter long enough to say, “Je suis desolée” (I’m sorry) to the boy’s mother…even though it wasn’t my fault. It was a danger zone where she let him stand. Approaching Brige, Philippe and Alice, I was finally able to start laughing. “Tell me you guys saw that!!” Oh if we only had that one on film. 

The rest of the day was fun, and I managed not to send any more children into orbit. I was fast as lightening on my luge, which scared the bejesus out of me. I even managed to pass people going down the hill. Alice the kiddo had fun posing with snowmen, crawling in igloos, and luging with speedy gonzales here. 

Continuously walking back up the hill was a workout, got the pulse pumping. I’d forgotten how alive you can feel when playing in the snow. And I'd forgotten how much sledding can make your arse hurt the next day! 

On the field below us, Brige spotted 2 teams of dog sleds running through the snow. What a nostalgic sight. Neither one of us had actually seen dog sledding before. This was a great moment, and just made the day for me. Standing on that hill, looking around at the snow covered Alps, seeing people luging, skiing cross-country, downhill, and then to be lucky enough to see dog sledding, made me feel fortunate to be there, to be out in the snow...and the snow reminded me of home, Maine. It was a memorable day spent with good friends in a beautiful, wild and pristine Alpine region.

.