Chasing the Tour du Mont Blanc

It started with a wobbly ladder for Anton Gaskell.

He’d be the first to admit that he wasn’t exactly the poster child for outdoor adventure, even when he joined his friends for a hike up Nagpatong Rock, a popular but modest trail in the Philippines. The mud-slicked ladders clinging to the rock face, the vertigo-inducing wind, and his own bubbling fear of heights, he was far from prepared. “At the top, I remember staring at my feet, trying not to think about being blown off–while my friends Aspen and Gosh were taking selfies,” Anton recalls with a laugh. “Then this woman in Chucks came over, patted me on the shoulder, and asked, ‘Ok ka lang ba koya?’ That snapped me out of it and after that I started to enjoy myself, even just a little.”

Getting back down was an entirely different story, involving rappelling and hanging off ledges he hadn’t signed up for. Yet, despite the terror, the experience left Anton exhilarated. He’d stumbled onto something unexpected: the thrill of testing himself against nature.

By the time he got home, he couldn’t stop thinking about the experience.

Soon, he was eating up every bit of hiking content he could find online and one trail kept popping up: the Tour du Mont Blanc, a 170-kilometer loop weaving through France, Italy, and Switzerland. It was massive, breathtaking, and completely out of his league—or so he thought. “People going out alone, walking for days with nothing but the sound of their boots on the trail. It looked peaceful, almost meditative, but also ridiculously hard. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

Before long, the “maybe someday” turned into “why not now?” and soon, what started as curiosity quickly became obsession.

For the Love of Silence

“I got obsessed with the idea of silent hiking,” he says. “These huge, multi-day treks completely alone. It looked absolutely ridiculous—but peaceful.”

“Ridiculously peaceful,” definitely an oxymoron outdoorsy-types would gravitate to.

While most people might watch a documentary on the Tour du Mont Blanc and think, wow, that’s nice—maybe one day, for Anton, it became a challenge he couldn’t resist, an itch he needed to scratch. The more videos he watched, the more plausible it seemed. He began to imagine himself on the trail, alone but undeterred. “What if I didn’t wait for the perfect time or the perfect group?” he wondered. “What if I just… went?” Two weeks and countless videos later, Anton had made up his mind. This wasn’t a “maybe someday” project. It was happening now.

“Don’t wait for the perfect moment,” he said, “just go. Even if it’s messy or imperfect, the act of chasing what you want is worth it.”

How Do You Plan For This?

Preparing for a hike like the TMB is no walk in the park (literally it kinda is–multiple parks). Spanning three countries and crossing multiple mountain passes, the trail is as much a logistical puzzle as it is a physical test. Rooms in mountain huts fill up months in advance, leaving little room for error. A delay in reaching a checkpoint could mean scrambling to find shelter. With bookings secured for September—when the trail is less crowded—Anton packed his gear and crossed his fingers.

“I didn’t study the map as well as I should have,” he admits. “I just thought, Eh, I’ll rely on the apps.”

Spoiler: he got lost.

The Push, The Pull, and the Food

Chamonix, a legendary French alpine town and the traditional starting (and end) point for the TMB, was where it all began. Anton was immediately struck by the mountains towering over him. “Videos don’t prepare you for how massive everything is,” he says. “It’s overwhelming in the best way. You realize how tiny you are—and how much you’re about to take on.” Though he’d trained for months, nothing could fully prepare him for the relentless ups and downs of the trail. His weighted-vest hikes and Philippine treks helped, but by the end of each day, Anton’s feet were wrecked. “I have plantar fasciitis, so every step became a challenge,” he says. “My legs were fine, but my feet were a different story.” There were days where he thought, “I could just take the bus back to Chamonix.” But he pushed on, and every other corner, every other kilometer was a reward.

Another great thing about it though and what obviously made it easier, was all the eating and feasting, the unexpected joy of “alpine dining”.

“You’ll be in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by mountains, and suddenly you’re eating homemade apple pie with ice cream,” Anton says. With mountain huts, family-run restaurants, and ski resorts scattered along the route, the culinary variety was a pleasant surprise. Evenings were spent sharing meals with other hikers, washing clothes, and swapping stories.

“Every refuge had its own vibe,” he says. “Some nights you’re laughing with strangers over drinks, and other nights you’re just enjoying the quiet.”

This Changes You

By the time Anton completed the loop and returned to Chamonix, he didn’t feel the grand, emotional release he’d expected. Instead, there was a quiet satisfaction. “I just wanted a steak, a beer, and a hot shower,” he laughs.

Still, the experience left a lasting impact.

“The outside world teaches you so much about what you’re capable of,” he says. “You learn to trust yourself, to sit with discomfort, and to appreciate the little things. You come out of it changed.”

For Anton, the TMB is only the beginning. Next on his list is the GR20, Europe’s toughest trail. “I’m nervous,” he admits, “but that’s part of the thrill. It gives me something to focus on, to train for.”

From shaky ladders to solo hiking across Mont Blanc, Anton has embraced the unknown—and found something extraordinary along the way.

Watch his amazing journey below.