Birds were chirping, crocuses were peeping, and the sun bathed the valley in radiant rays. But winter still had a tight grip up high in the Rhône Alps. I stepped out of the helicopter and into the “safe zone” on a remote Italian mountain top.
And just as fast as I arrived, the helicopter lifted its tail and pivoted back down to collect the rest of the team. Exhaling back into silence in a near-drunken alpine stupor, I looked out over the Alps, reflecting on just how I got here.
I was invited to visit one of Eleven’s chalets in the small village of Le Mirior, 2 hours south of Chamonix, to take it all in. And there was a lot to consume. The food, the wine, the culture, from thumping après ski parties to the quaint village donkey that sounded my morning wakeup call. And up high on this remote, unnamed glacier, untouched spring snow yawning all the way to the Matterhorn and beyond, all for me to experience.
About Eleven Experience
Eleven is a global “experience” operator with lodging and chalets in some of the most spectacular corners of the world. Think Patagonia, New Zealand, Iceland, the Bahamas, and where I was, the Auverge-Rhône Alps on the French–Italian border.
Each lodge is uniquely designed, embracing local craftsmanship, access to each region’s unique food, outdoor bounty, and local knowledge to immerse you in a way you could never do on your own. In Patagonia, you might fish untouched streams. In France and Italy, you ski untouched powder.
It also handles all on-the-ground logistics, and, if needed, helps coordinate travel to and from each lodge. The attention to detail became clear even before I arrived.
The pre-visit form asked me a few questions. Some predictable: Any food allergies? The private chef will accommodate your diet. Others, less so: Are you arriving by private helicopter? Yeah, it caters to high rollers. From the kind of music you like, to the ability of skier or rider you are, they meet you where you’re at and make you feel at home.
Chalet Hibou (French for owl) is one of two chalets in the micro village of Le Mirior, France. The sister lodge, Chalet Pelerin (peregrine falcon), stands across the street. The setting is impressive in every way. Perched like their bird namesakes on the hillside over Sainte-Foy-Tarentaise (a slightly larger small village), the chalets overlook Mont Pourri, which you can appreciate from your private balcony, the hot tub, or cold plunge tub.
The road to the chalet is so rural, so snug, that during reconstruction it was cheaper to fly in the materials over driving them up by truck. (The roads are impossibly narrow, folding over each other as they ascend, requiring our van to make three-point turns up to the chalet.)
Chalet Hibou has seven guest rooms that can sleep 16 patrons, a sauna and steam room, massage room, gym, media room, and gear room with standup cubbies equipped with boot and glove dryers for every skier.
Three bars and a wine room fortify the chalet, including a bar off to the side of the gear room. It’s a great way to celebrate après adventure. A giant sitting room and dining room sprawl across the main floor, each with a grand fireplace and a backdrop of the Alps that makes it impossible not to cozy up with one of the historic books sharing the local ski and mountaineering lore.
Professional chefs prepare farm cuisine for breakfast and dinner, leaving you on your own for lunch. This is standard on trips like this, because you’ll likely be out in the field or in town near an eatery. Want to pack a lunch? Just let the chef know, and they will be happy to prepare a sandwich wrapped in parchment paper, artfully tied up with jute cord.
Meals are sourced from neighboring farms. Goat cheese, granola, meats, down to the hand-foraged génépi or chartreuse, your palate is washed in bright flavors of the Savoie region.
“Sounds nice. So what’s this gonna cost me?” Double-occupancy room rates start at $1,978 per night (three-night minimum) or can be bought out for an exclusive experience.
Paramount to it all is the experience. Inspired by the 1984 heavy metal mockumentary, Spinal Tap, Eleven takes it one past 10. Its North Star is an unfettered immersive experience that pitches it beyond a typical hotel or lodge, exposing you to an experience you would be hard-pressed to contrive on your own.
Even our three guides (included in the price) were local, growing up skiing, climbing, and paragliding in the valley. Our lead guide, Jean-Noël, has family roots in the Tarentaise valley that extend back 500 years. That’s local knowledge! And all of this translates to a sort of cultural ski exchange experience.
Mechanized Ski Touring
The joy of skiing the Alps is both on- and off-piste. While you can ski the local resorts (all seven in the valley), the real adventure starts behind the top of the lift, where a cornucopia of backcountry routes pours off in abundance.
Up the road, some 30 km from Le Miroir, nestles the ski resort Val d’Isère, one of the most iconic and prestigious ski resorts in the world. Sprinkled with a mix of Michelin-starred dining and more approachable boulangeries, a lively après scene, and the more-than-occasional G-Wagon, it’s a playground for both the rich and the adventurous. Dirtbag chic, if you will.
With vast swaths of steep off-piste to explore, Eleven took us up the lift to the top where we skinned up and over the “backside,” dropping into a slope so steep we harnessed up to rappel into the bowl.
We binged on a steady diet of powder turns and casual rollers that fed back around to an alpine road funneling us to the resort for a late lunch/pre-après. Because, after all, we were holding out for Cocorico — the true après ski experience.
While not adventurous by definition, Cocorico can be epic for the introvert. Beers flow freely by the fistful, live music belts out at high decibels, people dance on tables, gondolas slowly sway overhead, and paragliders drop from the sky, tilting their sails on currents into town. It’s a boots-on-the-floor, drinks-in-the-hand type of atmosphere that has you smiling from equal parts excitement and awe.
For a quieter day, Eleven brought us just across the Tarentaise valley to Sainte-Foy, a “small” family resort with 100km of green to blacks. Beyond the lift, the slope rises and extends over to the adjacent valley, and then into the high country, which remains covered in snow through much of April and into May.
Under a bluebird sky, we dispatched a lazy 10 miles of backcountry on skins in flannels, plundering backcountry powder like a murder of crows, occasionally interrupted with charcuteries served up on skis, and spying specks of lone skiers carving S-turns down neighboring peaks.
Even with our modern-day technology — a phone in hand and Google Maps — valleys and slopes quickly splinter off in vastly different directions. While it all feels so close, it’s just a missed col away from being so far. The local knowledge paid dividends, and we seamlessly caught secret stashes on steep slopes that drew down into the right forest road back to Le Mirior.
Heliskiing
I’ll end on the first day, an experience that branded a cortical memory so severe that I will never forget it. France is one of the most adventure-rich countries in the world. The Alps birthed alpine sports, and France has had centuries to hone the sport to a fine art.
Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, I thought I knew mountain sports. But France? It cranks it up in leaps and bounds. But not with heliskiing. It’s prohibited to land helicopters in the French Rhône Alps.
Eleven deliberately selected its French property for its proximity to Italy. While you can’t heliski in France, you can in Italy. Eleven knew you could take the French lifts up to La Rosiere and then drop down to the Italian border, where helicopters can take you up onto untouched powder in the Italian Alps. Boom. Problem solved and experience elevated.
With stable weather and a fresh layer of powder on the Italian side, we tossed our skis into the helicopter’s side basket and took a heli-bump to a small peak overlooking the impressive serrated south side of the Mont Blanc massif. We immediately descended a slope so steep that you couldn’t see the runout.
Most of the day was spent floating over untouched snow, practicing rhythmic powder turns until the angle reclined. We’d meet the helicopter for another summit shuttle and enter a cycle of ride and repeat.
Just when I thought my legs were burned out, I experienced a slice of time in a week of similar events that exemplified Eleven’s attention to detail and the pursuit of delivering the perfect experience.
After our third run, the helicopter picked us up and dropped us into the small Italian village of La Thuile, where we caught our van into town, dined on a five-plate meal of pasta and wine, chased by tiramisu (and more génépi). After lunch, the van promptly returned us to the school football field-come-helipad.
We didn’t take more than three steps out onto the field when the chopping roar of rotor blades erupted through the valley. Without breaking stride, we stepped inside our ride, buckled up, and were shuttled back to the summit within 5 minutes.
The event was so well-timed, so precise, so 1% of 1%, that I had to ask if this was normal. Was I getting special treatment?
No. Every guest gets the same treatment. That is, if you decide to heliski. Heliskiing is not included in the all-inclusive price with Eleven and is an additional option. Was it spectacular? Yes. Was it worth it? Yes, yes, it was.
Our team descended from the tip-top of the French-Italian border down into the valley that eventually funneled us into Le Miroir, where Eleven owns two additional properties. Refuge les Mollettes is a 100-year-old high alpine hut nestled in the valley just below the glacier. With a stocked kitchen and bunk room, it offers Eleven patrons a more rustic experience and is a launching point for tours.
Just down the road, closer to Le Mirior, sits Eleven’s Alpage. A stone barn-turned-idyllic outpost, it’s the perfect place to relax with friends over fondue, a full dinner, and wine to reflect on the post-heliski euphoria.
Parting Thoughts
Eleven is all about the experience — for many, a once-in-a-lifetime experience (that comes at a significant cost).
And I should be clear, this was my experience. Eleven would cater to your experience. Paragliding? Mountaineering? Ice climbing? Ice driving? Check, yes, sure, and for my Midwest friends, you betcha. They offer a variety of experiences to choose from to create your once-in-a-lifetime experience.
But they do it in a way that veers far from feeling snooty or stuffy (tainting an experience with a feeling that you don’t really belong). The Eleven experience feels genuine and authentic. To me, it felt like I was hanging out at a high school buddy’s place — the buddy who made it big in hedge funds or real estate and bought a chalet.
I felt entirely at home, comfortable kicking off the shoes and putting my feet up. The staff was friendly and curious to learn who I really was. I still stay in touch with the guides.
Unless you are one of those hedge fund managers, it’s unlikely that you will buy out the resort for you and your posse. It’s more likely that you will be indulging in the experience with others. Yes, I’m talking about strangers (gasp!).
This might have made younger me cringe, but I’ve surprised myself as I’ve aged. Perhaps it’s the passage of time, the loss of parents, or parenthood itself, but I genuinely enjoy meeting new people who share a passion.
I appreciate the sharing of knowledge with others. You bond through a truly unique experience and revel in sharing a secret that only you and that other person are privy to. The shared experience is an elevated experience.
Channeling my brother-in-law, who’s chomping at the bit to go do this himself, I hear his inner monologue scheming a week away from his family: “Can it be done on the cheap?” For sure — but with compromises.
Skiing in Europe is generally more affordable than in the U.S. My local hill is $80 for eight lifts and 65 runs. Sun Valley sets me back $250 a day.
Sainte-Foy, just across the valley from Le Miroir and recognized as the “locals hill,” on the other hand, costs $40 a day and has more terrain than Sun Valley. A day ticket at Val d’Isère costs $70 and opens up 300 km of marked ski runs. The reasons are multiple and worth another story.
I prompted ChatGPT to plan a ski week for me in Colorado versus a week at Val d’Isère. It’s nearly $5,000 per person to go to Vail versus $3,700 at Val d’Isère for the week — and that includes the flight to Geneva! Furthermore, Val d’Isère is just one of seven resorts in the region. Insane. I’ll take the Alps every time.
But going out on your own won’t arm you with the local knowledge without a lot of research. Like, what food is seasonally fresh? Which valley drops you back to the car? And what about access to that sweet refuge slumping cozily in the mountain meadow (or the bottle of génépi stored in its kitchen cupboard)? This is local knowledge that is hard to obtain on your own, and one of the major benefits of signing on with an organized tour.
Doing it on your own can deliver an easy eight (because, after all, it’s France). But to paraphrase Spinal Tap’s Nigel Tufnel, with their local knowledge and hospitality, Eleven will “turn it up to eleven.”
