The Confident Hiker

August 2024

The area of the Doubs is a magical one and I love to go back there in different seasons – with summer of course being one of the nicest, given that the river provides a refreshing coolness and the water even offers the option to go for a swim.

What I like equally as much is to find new paths to get down to the river and the one I chose for the hike with my friend Eva and my mother Sibylle was unexpected – in the best ways.

We chose Le Noirmont as our starting point and made our way from the trainstation to the edge of the village following the hiking sign direction La Goule. Right after exiting the village, we started to head down towards the river; an effortless descent through the forest and over small meadows until we reached a vast open area, where we were offered an unexpectedly stunning view down the valley and all the way over to France.

Shadows wandered over the green meadows and forests glowing in various shades of lush green and a lone spruce tree stood at the slope. It was like one of those paintings that you just can’t stop studying so as to make sure you’re not missing a single detail the painter drew.

Over a steep path leading down we marched through Le Creux de Gros Gipoux. Intrigued by the name, I tried to find a translation of this location (as far as I could find out, it is the name of the forest). “Le Creux” translates to “the hollow” and ” gros Gipoux” could translate roughly to “big field or pasture” – “champois” being a corruption of the french word “champ”. This would indicate that this area, now densely forested, has not always looked like this but was rather an open field. Nature is a very fascinating testament of change and adaptation in that way; and while us humans may struggle to accept new settings or circumstances, nature just continuously evolves and gets richer in history.

After following the asphalt road for a short while, we branched off onto a small trail downward. We were surrounded by a rich forest flora; the home to many mushrooms, plants and an abundance of moss. Those forest kingdoms always make me feel small but in the best way possible. Not insignificant but as if I am getting to grow with the branches, the leaves; as if I am part of this mysterious society.

Our conversations were just as inspiring as the area we walked though; and while we were philosophizing about life, teaching moments, change and the acceptance of change, we suddenly felt the need to pause as we found ourselves on an unexpectedly adventurous winding path next to high impressive rock walls bending over us and surrounded by towering trees. The sound of the river carrying all the way up from below us let us know that it could’t be much further down. The soft earthy trail lead us down to the river with ease. The further we came down, it was as if the flora slowly changed, adapting to a more humid climate.

Soon we stepped out from under the shade providing roof of the forest into warm bright sunlight, the Doubs peacefully flowing next to us, seemingly guiding us to follow it.

The path lead downstream along the riverside, halfway hidden behind the moss-covered branches that I came to associate with this area. It was as if the small gnarled trees were wearing elegant green robes, akin to the one I used to have as a little girl. Appearing to lean over the water, admiring themselves in the reflection.

The trail to Le Theusseret was an easy stroll along the river that took us about 40 minutes. Fellow hikers and bikers crossed our path, happy relaxed faces with content smiles. We continued our conversations while enjoying the refreshing cold breeze that came from the river and the slightly musky fishy smell of the water which always reminds me of a summer vacation and therefore has an instant relaxing effect on me.

The restaurant and hotel at Le Theusseret has been an absolutely magical place to me for as long as I can remember. A former sawmill and mill, the old building is whimsically located within the moss-covered rocks and next to a waterfall, the remains of a former power plant, which causes a gentle refreshing drizzle.

The restaurant not only offers good food (if you like fish, you can order trout straight from the river) but also provides five rooms for an overnight stay, which is something I still have on my bucket list.

We decided to stop for lunch. Sibylle ordered a beef tartare “de saison” which came with basil foam and homemade fries; Eva and me went for the risotto with summer vegetables and mushrooms enriched with Tête de moine cheese. While I am often used to simple presentation of food in restaurants on the countryside, there are (more and more) exceptions; such was the case here, recognizable by the simple and organic but elegant presentation of the dishes. Besides the nice appearance the seasonally themed meals were carefully prepared, nourishing and rich in flavor.

After a Cappuchino we strapped on our backpacks and continued our trail direction Goumois, our destination for today.

Those last 40 minutes lead again mostly along the riverside, over meadows and through small patches of forest until we reached the mainroad towards Goumois, which is a slightly uncomfortable part to walk but luckily doesn’t go on for too long.

Situated in a canyon-like valley, Goumois is a very little border village with a small population of only 80 people and was first mentioned in 1177 under the germanic name “Gamoensis ecclesia”. It shares its infrastructure with the french Goumois right across a bridge crossing the Doubs, which is a feature I always loved as a girl – the possibility to tell my mother, drinking her coffee in the restaurant: “I will be right back, I just quickly go to France”, running over the bridge and come back with the biggest smile on my face.

The strong migration of the village is visible: many houses are no longer inhabited and are in the process of decaying, the remaining structures disappearing under growing weeds. A fascinating if also slightly sad sight. The restaurant that I remember fondly from my childhood however is still there, well visited and always a welcome place to wait and have a drink or a refreshing sorbet before the bus to Saignelégier arrives.

The bus took us back up to the Franches Montagnes, high above the valley of the Doubs; driving by fields of sun kissed vibrant green grass and allowing a fresh breeze blowing though the open window as we filled the bus with our cheerful chatter and laughs and enjoyed resting our tired feet.

While studying the map for this post, I spent a lot of time looking for specific locations, trying to find their name somewhere, often to no avail. And it made me think about the places we humans name and the many places that remain nameless. Little meadows, tiny hills, forest clearings, viewpoints that can not be found easily on a map, books or the internet. They may not hold enough significance, not have a specific history nor be an important landmark to deserve a dedicated name but they may very well have that significance to an individual. I came to realize that not having names for places that have a particular significance to me is something I find somewhat challenging, without really knowing why. I was surprised how frustrated I got, to find yet another rock formation nameless on the map after having been there and stunned by the beauty of the view. Maybe I am frustrated because it feels like those places are undervalued or because I am scared I will forget about them and not find them anymore many years later or that they simply just don’t exist anymore.

But when I think about those special areas we visited during this hike – places I have been already so many times before – I realize, it is not the names of the spots I remember. It is the familiar paths, familiar views, familiar scents. Since my early childhood I have been coming here. Sometimes with a group of people, sometimes alone, sometimes with one other person. I have built snakes out of clay at the riverbank, drank coffee out of camping mugs in the shade of the trees and put my tired feet in the cold water after a long hike. I couldn’t name those trusted spots, but they are what holds history, my history to me.

During my hikes I must have encountered countless spots with no name. Instead of just another waypoint that you name when recalling your adventure, they become a fond memory, an image that keeps popping up, that you can describe so vividly, it’s as if you’re right there again. Like that one single tall tree standing on the slope of a hill that you admired with your mother and your oldest friend on a warm august afternoon hike.

And when I think about it, in the end that is how places gain that very unique und unforgettable and ultimately familiar significance, regardless if they have a name on a map or not. And that is, how we add our very own history to every path we travel.

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Details

Le Noirmont to Goumois

Difficulty: T1 (Hiking Trail) Length: 9.53 km Duration: 2:29 h Ascent/Descent: 118m/591m

Some more useful facts about this hike

• If you choose this hike off season (outside of summer) it is worth to check the opening hours of the restaurant in Le Theusseret, as they vary. From November to the end of March the the Restaurant and Hotel stay closed all together.
• The buses from Goumois to Saignelégier do not drive very often, so it is good to consult the timetables ahead of time. There is the option to hike all the way up to Saignelégier by adding another 1 hour 40 and about 500 meters in elevation to your hike.