ALL IN: Countdown Chamonix

The 14th edition of the Arc’teryx Alpine Academy returns to Chamonix-Mont-Blanc 3 – 6 July, 2025 for four days packed with alpine education, inspiration, and community. This time last year, the impending Academy inspired Arc’teryx skier Tonje Kvivik to get fresh with her knee rehab, ditch the stationary bike, and pedal from Kristiansand, Norway to Chamonix, France. All she needed was her own gumption and a custom bike-packing set-up. Sure, the idea was a bit out there… but that’s often where the big revelation lies.

Enjoy this year’s Academy, however you choose to get there.

Day 1 – Denmark

On the boat from Norway to Denmark, I make a decision – I post my goal on my Instagram story. I’m all in now.

The terror is instant. Now, if I fail, everyone will know. But injury has taught me that perfection is an illusion. Allowing people to see that I do try, and fail hard, lots of the time, might be liberating. 

I step off the boat, take my first pedal strokes, and freedom washes over me. Denmark is flat, the sun is shining, and wildflowers line the roads. The wind hits my face, and I start laughing.

But 40km in to the day’s 160km target, my legs start to cramp. Then, at 9 p.m., 50km from my stop for the night, rain starts pouring. At 1 a.m., when I finally arrive at my Airbnb, I am drenched. After five hours of riding in the rain, I’m nervous to check my bags. They are dry! A silent thank-you to the Arc’teryx team – repurposed jackets have still got it. 

Day 2 – Finding Flow

In the morning, I can barely walk. My bum is sore and my shoes are still wet. Arc’teryx Academy starts in nine days. I put on a podcast and get locked into an episode about how trying too hard actually makes you perform worse (https://podcasts.apple.com/no/podcast/why-trying-too-hard-can-backfire-on-you/id1028908750?i=1000657710197).

Why didn’t I know this? And it’s science!

Day 3 – Big Miles 

The sun wakes me up. I bike to a coffee shop, order a cappuccino with honey, and listen to another Hidden Brain episode, on slowing down. The host admits he used to listen to everything at 1.5x speed.

I glance at my phone-I’m literally doing that right now (https://podcasts.apple.com/no/podcast/hidden-brain/id1028908750?i=1000648366238). I always do that. I switch to normal speed, and test it out.

Later, biking through a field, wind moves the grass like ocean waves. I feel so present I tear up.

Day 4 – Lost in the Dark (Again)

Everything is smooth – until 11 p.m. 20 minutes from my Airbnb, I see a river, without a bridge. Just a boat. With no lights. Google Maps has betrayed me. The new route adds 35 km and will get me there at 1:30 a.m. a full detour south, then back north. I laugh, because what else is there to do?

Then Google sends me into a pitch-black field, and a deer almost runs me over. I’m in the middle of nowhere, with no service, and I am more scared of the dark than I knew. My Airbnb room looks like a haunted house. Horror films start like this. Honestly, I am terrified.

Day 5 –  Fireflies & Fear

Uphill and slow through a forest, in the dark. Lights flicker in the trees, like glinting eyes, reminding me of last night’s killer deer. I scream, but it is a thousand fireflies – nothing we have in Norway or Canada. My heart beats too fast for a long time. I push on for four more hours, promising I will not make myself bike through the dark again. I really do not have to make this harder than it needs to be. The fear finally fades as I’m sailing down a winding mountain road, wind rushing past me. The sense of freedom returns.

Day 6 – Frankfurt, Biomarkts & Espresso

A new day, a new Hidden Brain episode. I’ve probably listened to 15 of these podcasts already, and they just keep inspiring me.

Today feels easy. Uneventful in the best way – no near-death experiences, no getting lost in the woods. Just smooth roads and a steady rhythm. I feel like I could go forever. That is, of course, until I push past 210 km, my legs break out in a heat rash, and my eyes turn bloodshot red again.

Day 7 – Germany, France… Then Germany Again

Biking next to the canal. Fresh, cool air. And a thousand mosquitoes. I make my way into the southern wine country of Germany. I’m getting there. The thought of making it fuels me, but my body is exhausted. I keep pedalling.

Day 8 – Switzerland!!!

My bike is shifting weirdly since I fell over with clip pedals while trying to eat cherry tomatoes at a crosswalk. Super friendly mechanics fix it, but warn me there’s a thunderstorm rolling in. I have my tent, so I get climbing over the pass and the rain starts. Another podcast to keep my mind in check-The Paradox of Pleasure (https://podcasts.apple.com/no/podcast/hidden-brain/id1028908750?i=1000620624332). After listening, I tell myself: This ride was worth it. This whole trip was worth it – I can’t believe I did not know this either. 

Switzerland has won a FIFA World Cup match. People are flooding the streets, waving Swiss flags, screaming, laughing. Their energy is infectious. I’ve never felt such a connection to so many strangers as I have this entire trip. 

Day 9 – We are getting there

I love Switzerland. After months of rehab keeping me grounded, it feels so right to be back in the mountains.

At the top of the last climb of the day the view is like a scene out of a movie. Vineyards on one side, dramatic mountains on the other. It’s beautiful. I could keep biking, but remember: if you speed through everything, you miss the small treasures.

So, I stop. I get a burger. I watch a FIFA match and take a breather. Tomorrow is the big climb. Only 86 km to go.

<pullquote> If you speed through everything, you miss the small treasures.

Day 10 – Chamonix

This doesn’t feel real.

Could I actually do it?

I start pedaling, trying to let go of expectations. The climb begins. It’s hot, steep, packed with cars. But it doesn’t feel as hard as I thought – because the end is in sight. After a couple wrong turns, I look up -two Norwegians are waving their arms, cheering.

It’s Norwegian freeski legend Stian Hagen and his son Alex. I stop, confused. Wait. I did it? They confirm: It’s all downhill from here. I want to cry: No. Way.

The final descent is something I’ll never forget. Wind in my face, pure joy in my chest. I cannot stop smiling. Welcome to Chamonix-YEEES!