La Thuile
Among the Waters
Water is precious; in the mountains, it often seems endless and inexhaustible. Yet alpine lakes and the permanent snowfields that feed the torrents are under threat. Our great-grandparents likely never imagined otherwise. For them, water was the foundation of an entire agricultural economy: it quenched the herds, made the grass grow, filled village fountains, and powered small mills grinding flour.
The torrent is inseparable from mountain life. It’s clear, cool, and swift waters provide the soundtrack to many walks; its habitat shelters fish, birds, amphibians, and numerous other alpine species.
Today, water is also associated with disasters — floods and landslides causing serious damage to infrastructure and disrupting roads and services. The land feels more fragile; humanity has left marks that upset a centuries-old balance, which, even in the past, included catastrophic events. The frequency and severity of today’s disasters are the legacy of years of careless management and intervention.
Hydroelectric micro-plants represent a positive way in which humanity harnesses water. From old irrigation canals and small mills, we have advanced to modern plants with turbines and conduits producing clean energy.
Even meadows are now watered by automated sprinkler systems. The grass grows tall, and hay can be harvested in abundance. The cows that produce milk for the Aosta Valley’s Fontina DOP rely on hay — strictly local hay!
Santa Margherita and Deffeyes Refuges
The glacier guarding La Thuile has an unmatched allure — the aura of things becoming rare. And we know perennial ice is destined to vanish.
Its name is dual and equally valid: you’ll see it as “Rutor” in Italian and “Ruitor” in French. Some old topographical maps of the Sardinian kingdom listed variants like Rhutor, Ruitord, Rutors. According to Robert Berton, a scholar of Valdostan toponymy whose holiday home in La Thuile is now a museum holding a remarkable collection of Valdostan crafts, the origin of the name comes from Ruise (glacier or expanse of ice in Franco-Provençal patois) and Tor (a peak, a rocky spur in Celtic) — together meaning something like “a rock rising from the ice.”
On its western flank is clearly visible, even from a distance, the pyramid of Grand Assaly, alongside a curious monolith about twenty metres tall known as “Homme de Tachuy” or “The Sentinel.”
The ascent to the glacier is accompanied by the meltwaters feeding the torrents, amplified by rocky drops of the three waterfalls that plunge over 400 metres.
Despite a significant phase of retreat — over about forty years — the glacier still covers around 9 km² (about 8 km in length). The head of the Rutor lies at 3,486 metres and has been a destination for climbers since the mid-19th century, when many Alpine peaks were first conquered with very modest means.
Mountain-oriented development led the Turin section of the CAI (Italian Alpine Club) to build, in 1887, the Santa Margherita hut on rocks overlooking the Rutor lake; it could shelter 10 people but was abandoned for old age around 1910. CAI then built another refuge in 1923, about forty metres upstream of the previous one, which was destroyed by fire during the Second World War (1944-45). Rebuilt again by CAI, it was inaugurated in 1964 as “Rifugio Albert Deffeyes” in memory of the famous Valdostan mountaineer and politician. Recently the refuge has been expanded and modernized.
Lake Verney: Sacred Atmosphere
For the Salassi people, high-altitude lakes such as Lake Verney and Lac Longet were sacred places, central to daily life and rituals intended to ensure prosperity and protection. The Salassi knew every nook and cranny of these mountains, having adapted to life here since time immemorial, following the retreat of glaciers that opened the land to human settlement.
The clans inhabiting the region constructed roads to facilitate the movement of people and livestock. During festivals such as Beltane and Samhain, the entire valley would gather to pay homage to the gods, seeking a fruitful summer or a benevolent winter. The skilled Salassi builders combined careful selection of materials with an understanding of gradients to create passable routes. Yet, without abundant water, life here — grazing flocks and cultivating the land — would have been impossible.
Victorious Salassi leaders would offer the swords of defeated foes to Graio, the god of war and stone, casting them into the lake from their canoes as a token of gratitude.
Their very appearance was thought to ward off enemies: they were tall, with sun-kissed dark skin, dressed in animal hides and adorned with colourful garments and imposing helmets often decorated with the heads of boars, eagles, bears, or wolves taken in the hunt. At times, coins, bracelets, or amulets were also cast into the waters, seeking the Great Mother’s aid for healing or invoking abundant fish to feed their children.