Swiss Ramblings

In this blog post I'm going to both describe my final few days of travelling through Switzerland as well share some additional facts on the history, geography, and culture I learned along the way. And I'll conclude by offering my final thoughts on this country I've very much enjoyed (no make that loved) exploring.

 So, I left off last time in Grindelwald after my great day among the mountain giants at Jungfraujoch. I drove back into Interlaken where I fueled up the car with diesel and upon leaving the gas station promptly backed into a large rock denting and scratching up the paintwork (on the car that is – the rock was just fine). I drove on around Thunsee (Lake Thun) to the City of Thun with the setting sun making the whole scene look worthy of a scenic calendar. Leaving the main highway I turned north along little country roads finding another gem of a camping spot in a forest beside a hiking club hut. Next morning it was about an hour's drive into Lucerne. The trusty and increasingly dog-eared Lonely Planet guidebook describes it thus:
    Recipe for a gorgeous Swiss City: Take a cobalt lake ringed by mountains of myth, add a well-preserved medieval Old Town, then sprinkle with covered bridges, sunny plazas, candy-colored houses, and waterfront promenades.


I was about to find out that this is a pretty accurate description of this wonderful city of just 60,000. Parking the car in a huge underground complex on the edge of the city I immediately happened upon a camping store when emerging to surface. This was most fortunate as I'd run of gas for my camp stove that very morning (resulting in barely drinkable lukewarm coffee) and discovered that my spare blue canister is of the wrong kind to fit my stove. With new gaz (that is the brand name not another typing error from me) bought I wandered off into town and came across a huge market. A real odd mix of junk and expensive antiques. I really wanted a genuine old Swiss cow bell, but the cheapest small ones were about 50 CHf (Swiss francs are today roughly equal to US dollars) which, although tempted, I couldn't quite manage. So I made do with a photo. But I did indulge with a "flashback to the 80's" purchase of a couple of CDs from the Pet Shop Boys, so I'll be jamming in yodeling country.

The Lucerne Saturday Market where I said 'Nein' (no) to the cow bells but 'Ja' (yes) to "West End Girls".

On into the heart of the city where there was some sort of farm-comes-to-town festival happening with lots of animals, demonstrations, and samples of local produce. I bought a great sausage and dense but tasty piece of bread for lunch – and it came with an additional 2.00 deposit for the paper plate. I was given a little plastic token that when I took my dirty used plate back I was refunded with my 2 franc coin – I'd love to know what it was all about and why.

Lucerne lunch – with my 2 CHf refund token for a paper plate!

Having mentioned the Swiss currency twice in the above paragraphs I'd thought I tell you some more about their money by way of a little history. You may wonder why their currency is written as CHf and not Sf (for Swiss Francs). Well, the abbreviation for Switzerland is CH – here is why. When the Romans rolled into what is now Switzerland they found a bunch of Celtic tribes including the Helvetii. Having conquered all the locals, they rubbed salt into the wounds by calling the territory Helvetia. After the decline of the Roman Empire and almost a thousand years with Frankish rulers from Germany and the Burgundians from France (laying the foundation for the division between French and German speaking Switzerland that exists today), the self-ruling Cantons (like states but more the size of large US counties) began to join in a Swiss Confederation. Rather than giving preference to either of the dominate languages they used the Latin - Confoederatio Helvetica. So it is CH that you see of car license plates, in internet addresses, and on their currency. Swiss francs are divided into 100 centimes (which just to keep you on your toes are called Rappen in German speaking Switzerland). They have a 5 CHf coin which is huge and heavy and a tiny small coin which is 50 centimes (with the 20, 10, and 5 centime coins being larger than the 50 – go figure). Notes come in 10, 20, 50, 100, 200, and 1,000. Being a nation famous for banking, it seems that big notes are preferred. My 200 CHf request from an ATM gave me just one bill. But it was no problem to change it – in fact the women in front of me at the camping store bought a 50 CHF jacket and paid with a 1,000 bill.

Ok – enough of history and foreign finance for a while. Lucerne is famous for some interesting sites and I now visited the three that sounded the most intriguing to me. First stop was the Löwendenkmal (The Lion Monument). This amazing sculpture commemorates the some 800 or so Swiss Guards who were massacred in 1792 during the French Revolution. The French King relied on a regiment of soldiers from neutral Switzerland for his protection. On the 10^th of August 1792 the Revolutionaries stormed the Tuileries Palace where the King and family were living. After fighting off the Revolutionaries the King ordered the Guards to stand down. Ever loyal they did, and 600 were instantly killed that day and other 200 later in prison (mostly by guillotine).  One officer of the Guards happened to be home on leave in Lucerne during this time, and thus survived. He committed his life to creating a memorial for his fallen colleagues and began to collect money from local citizens. After 20 years of fund raising he commissioned the monument of a lion dying of wounds in a cave, design by the Danish sculptor Bertel Thorvaldsen and carved during 1820-21 in an old disused standstone quarry not far from the edge of the city.

The Löwendenkmal (The Lion Monument).

The monument is dedicated Helvetiorum Fidei ac Virtuti ("To the loyalty and bravery of the Swiss") and these are the words you see above the den. The dying lion is portrayed impaled by a spear, covering a shield bearing the fleur-de-lis, symbol of the French monarchy; beside him is another shield bearing the coat of arms of Switzerland. The inscription below the sculpture lists the names of the officers. When visiting as part of his around the world tour, Mark Twain proclaimed this to be: "the most mournful and moving piece of stone in the world."  It is hard not to agree.

Next stop – the famous bridges crossing the Reuss River. The most famous is the Chapel Bridge (Kapellbrücke), a 204 m (670 ft) long wooden bridge originally built in 1333, although much of it had to be replaced after a fire on August 18, 1993. Partway across, the bridge runs by the octagonal Water Tower (Wasserturm), a fortification from the 13th century. This tower has previously served as a prison, torture chamber, watchtower, and treasury. Inside the roof of the bridge are a series of paintings from the 17th century depicting events from Luzern's history. The tower and the bridge are Lucerne's trademark and form one of the most photographed monuments in the country.

The Kapellbrücke Bridge, Lucerne's most famous landmark.

A little down river was the Spreuerbrücke or Mill Bridge which alos zigzags across the Reuss. Constructed in 1408, it is now the oldest original covered bridge in Europe. It features a series of medieval-style 17th Century paintings of scenes related to the plague by Kaspar Meglinger. The entire series is titled Dance of Death. With each scene portraying various conditions of men and women infected with the plague: priests and warriors, princes and men of learning, the young bride, the devout nun, the lawmaker, the hunter, the miller, even the artist himself, all depicted at the mercy of The Black Death, with his mocking smile.

Painting of the plague on Lucerne's 1408 Spreuerbrücke or Mill Bridge.

I then carried on with the art theme – although this one a little less macabre. The Sammlung Rosengart is regarded as Lucerne's blockbuster cultural attraction. The Rosengart Collection was originally the private art collection of father-and-daughter Siegfried and Angela Rosengart. The collection, housed in an old Swiss National Bank building, comprises well over 200 works by 23 different "Classic Modernist" artists. These include 125 works by Paul Klee and some 50 by Pablo Picasso. Other artists represented include (in alphabetical order) Bonnard, Braque, Cézanne, Chagall, Dufy, Kandinsky, Laurens, Léger, Marini, Matisse, Miró, Modigliani, Monet, Pissarro, Renoir, Rouault, Seurat, Signac, Soutine, Utrillo, and Vuillard. Angela Rosengart was a close personal friend of Picasso having modeled for several of his paintings. As close friends and among the few exclusive dealers in his work, they often had 'first pick' of his outstanding paintings and sculptures. Complementing the collection were over 200 photographs by David Duncan of the last 17 years of Picasso's life with his family in their home near Cannes, France. This was an incredible collection, and unlike many of the other more famous European art museums, it was about the right size so you fully appreciate the works rather than feeling over-whelmed.
Leaving mid afternoon I drove around the northern shore of Vierwaldstättersee (Lake Lucerne) to the town of Kussnacht ,where a house beside the lake was flying a New Zealand All Blacks flag. Then to Schwyz – home to the original copy and most important document in Swiss history, the Charter of Federation signed by the Cantons of Nidwalden, Uri, and Schwyz in 1291. On the Hauptplatz (main town square) the Rathaus (town hall) had amazing murals painted in the 1800s depicting scenes from the Battle of Mortgarten.

Town Hall with its amazing murals in Schwyz.

Schwyz, a town of 14,000, is also home to Victorinox – maker of the Swiss Army pocketknife. Click the link to find out how the company got its unique name. I drove past the sizeable factory on my way to Brunnen. This spectacular town is located at the junction of two lakes (Lucerne and Uri). Paralleling an incredibly scenic road I headed onto Aldorf, where William Tell is reputed to have shot the apple of the head of his son.

Statue to William Tell in Aldorf.

Then a 50km torturous route up the wind-swept Klausenpass at 1,948 meters followed by a steep drop down to the towns of Linthal, Rüti, and Glarus. The last being interesting in that two-thirds of the town was burnt in a disastrous fire in 1861. The re-building left a mixed legacy of graceful mid 19^th century buildings with the older very solid timber rural houses still showing some of their fire scars. At nearby Näfels I turned to follow the shores of the Wallensee (Lake Wallen) stopping for the night at a great hotel in Filzbach. Unusually, the price of the room came with the evening meal and breakfast. I was the only person staying at the hotel overnight. At the beginning of my trip every hotel was close to full, then as we head into autumn and everyone else is back at work I am often one of very few tourists in many of the places I visit and stay.

Next morning off around the lake, through the funny sounding town of Flums, then over a bridge crossing the Rhein River and out of Switzerland for a few days. I'll do a separate post for my enjoyable three days in the little country of Liechtenstein.

So, picking up the Swiss story again on the morning of September 15th, I stopped to take a picture of the white painted line on the road that marks the border of Liechtenstein and Switzerland and then in a flash I was in Fläch. The next town after that was Maienfeld. Johanna Spyri (18827-1901) wrote the story of Heidi basing it in the countryside around the town. The locals even renamed a little village nearby Heididorf which does a roaring tourist trade on everything Heidi related (which is a little crazy when you consider she never lived there because she never existed). Through a town with the great sounding name of Bad Radaz, apparently a favorite holiday destination for Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford.

I carried on through Chur, Domat, and Trin (which are also all rather cool names for towns I think). Then through the famous trio of ski towns (although increasingly well known for snowboarding with the Burton Open held each January) of Flims, Laax, and Falera. Next and more sizeable town was Ilanz and I arrived on cattle auction day – which was fun to watch for awhile.

Watching the cow auction in Ilanz.

I couldn't work out what language the locals were speaking, it wasn't on of the three commonly heard Italian, French, or German - it turned out to be Romansch. This language (from the Rhaeto-Romanic language family) is spoken by less than 1% of the Swiss population but since 1996 it has been recognized as an official national language which should play an important role in guaranteeing its preservation and promotion. Should you find yourself deep in these valleys of Graubünder Canton, the only place this language is spoken, then it might be helpful to know that hello is allegra.

I now turned south and stopped my frequent breaks for photos and exploring as I had an important appointment to keep – and you know the Swiss, they tend to be punctual. In Lucerne I picked up a brochure of a hot pool complex that looked simply amazing. It is connected to a very expensive hotel and they offer accommodation and spa packages. They then release a select few day passes – for the following day, in a rather complicated reservation system needing a European mobile (cell phone) as I discovered. So, I had the helpful woman working at the Lichtenstein Youth Hostel make the call to inquire about a reservation for me when I got back from my hike. So right on time at a few minutes before 11 am I rolled into Vals.

To say this place was fantastic is not really doing it justice – in fact I don't really know what words to describe this incredible experience. In 1983, the village of Vals bought the Therme spa with the hotel: today the Hotel und Thermalbad AG company is 100 % owned by the Vals community. It was a fairly typical layout with several hot pools of different temperatures but the community wanted to upgrade the facility. The architect Peter Zumthor, from Haldenstein in Graubünden, was commissioned to build a new spa which was opened in 1996. The rectangular construction with stacked walls of Valser Quartzite quarried only two kilometers from the pools used 60,000 stone slabs to create a true work of art. Please do check out this website, click on the link at the top called "Spa" then look at the pictures of the various pools.

At 42 CHft was easily the most expensive swim I've ever had. But the whole ambiance of the place was magnificent. I stayed for 4 hours – emerging thoroughly relaxed and with extreme prune fingers. I began the rehydration process by consuming vast amounts of Valser water. This mineral water, from the same complex of springs that feed the pools, is bottled at a huge plant in the small town and you find it throughout Switzerland.

Valser water from Vals: I tried the natural (still), classic (with gas), and two interesting flavored varieties: pear and mint, and the more acquired taste of rhubarb and mint.

I retraced my route back to Domat, passing through many tunnels, including the amusing named Crap Sés Tunnel (crap means 'peak' in Romansch).

Then south to Thusis and shortly thereafter I tuned off the main road and found a great campsite beside a power station (the name of which was Kraftwerk Solis). Next morning up and over the Julier Pass (quite high at 2,284 meters/7,494 feet) and then down the other side and shortly into St. Moritz. Twice the host of the Winter Olympics (1928 and 1948) and annual host for summer and winter vacations of the rich and famous. I wandered around town amazed at the huge number of very high end shops (the full range of designer brands for all luxury goods were here). I bought a $125, 000 watch – just checking to see how carefully you are reading. It does make me wonder who goes on holiday and decides they will buy a new watch – at that amount of money! Looking in the real estate agents windows was equally amazing – houses in the 10 million CHf range were pretty common. My contribution to the local economy consisted of two postcards and a great poster for 3 CHf, then I headed on my way. Then through three amusing named towns; Zuoz, S-chanf, and Zernez.

In a nation that I feel almost all looks like a national park I was amazed to find that there is only National Park – called "Swiss National Park". I paid a brief visit to the information center in the town of Zernez to peruse the exhibits. The park was created in 1914 and spans 172 sq kms.

I drove through the heart of the park somehow ending up in the middle of a vintage car rally. These were mostly British cars (Bently, Jaguar, Rolls Royce, etc) in a rally that started that looped around Switzerland. This brought back lots of memories of my childhood cruising around New Zealand in my Dad's vintage Austin. I followed one of these cars and before long – there were two opposing unmanned guard shacks indicating the border with Italy.

Following a vintage car out of Switzerland and into Italy.

So, my time in Switzerland has come to an end. The drop-dead gorgeous scenery never gets old. I felt at times as if I was driving through the scene on the lid of a box of Swiss chocolates. The people I meet were nice – quite reserved but still friendly, helpful, and genuinely glad that you were there to see their country that they obviously love. I will have to think about returning to ski these magnificent mountains – the size and variety of resorts, and even the smaller ski areas, is mind boggling. It was also interesting to see where alpine tourism was born, and with more than 200 years practice, the mountain towns have catering to international visitors down to a science. But, I believe that to understand a place, its history, culture, and people, then you have to look to the land. And Switzerland with her verdant valleys and snowy peaks, raging rivers and tranquil lakes, deep forests and quaint villages is an amazing land.

One final interesting antidote. In the German speaking part of the country the way they say thank you is interesting – and provides another glimpse at the Swiss way of doing things. I had my German phrase book but what people would say to me was not in there. Then, in Lucerne a bought a great little book called the Xenophobes guide to the Swiss. This series of little books are useful, interesting, but mostly amusing (The Guide to the Kiwis makes for fun reading!). It explains that for the majority of the country German is the dominant language. However, they speak a version or dialect known as Schwizerdütsch, or Schwyzertütsch. It is a spoken language only and for writing they use High German (Swiss German is reportedly as different to High German as Dutch is). So, when saying thank you, rather than danke, (thanks) which they think is too German, the Swiss say merci (French for thanks). But then to avoid being mistaken for French speakers they add very much in German. However, it is not the High German vielmals, but rather the Swiss-German version without an 's'. As the Xenophopes guide states; "The result is very odd, very bilingual, and very Swiss."

So, merci vielmal Swizerland for an incredible adventure.

Swiss Glacier Days

After spending much of the past two weeks trying to stay out of crevasses as I climbed the two highest mountains in Western Europe, I now found myself deep within a glacier, for two days in a row. The blue ice, the penetrating cold, and the noise of dripping water and creaking as it ground its way downhill will forever remain in my mind. But before I tell you the story of how I ended up in a glacier let me back up a little.

I left Zermatt still a little torn over my decision to leave the Matterhorn for another day, but I know in my heart that I made the right call. I caught the train down the valley and headed off to Brigerbad – a huge thermal pool complex.

After two long hard days of climbing soaking in the hot water was bliss. Although, I decided to be a kid and also rode the water slides – they were among the fastest hydro-slides I've ever been on. Another really neat part of the complex was a pool called the "grotto". You can see a picture of this on the far left of my photo of their entrance sign. The grotto was like an artificial cave with the hot water flooding up through the floor. The overall setting of the pools literally surrounding by mountains was amazing.

Then onto Brig – a city of 12,000 sitting beside the Rhône and Saltine Rivers. In fact, the name Brig comes from the word 'bridge'. It also sits at the base of the Swiss side of the Simplon Pass that crosses over the Alps to Italy. I drove by a really interesting building (I was too long soaking in the hot pools to pay it a visit) that my guide book said was the Stockalperschloss. Apparently, a guy by the name of Kaspar von Stockalper (born 1609 – died 1691) got super rich by dominating the Simplon Pass trade routes. He had a palace built for himself in 1651-61. It is somewhat unique in its architectural style with the three towers and their onion-like domes. It is now owned by the city and houses a museum.

The Stockalperschloss in Brig.

I visited the local supermarket just before closing time then drove up into the hills seeking a camping site. I followed steep and twisty roads that must have been the old highway before the new tunnel was built through the mountain in the 1960s. There were many "Camping Verboten" (i.e., no camping allowed) signs so I thought my tent on the ridge beside the road would be too conspicuous. So, stealth camping took a new turn as I pulled the car off the road to create an area between the car and the metal crash-barrier. I fired up another of these portable BBQs and had a feast of different types of sausages (one of my favorite meals). My guide book said this area of Switzerland is famous for hunting during the autumn/fall and that you should capitalize on opportunities to try the local game meats. Therefore, I was delighted to find wild boar and deer sausages (the meats mixed into a single sausage) at the supermarket. I had to laugh out loud though when opening the packet I saw that the wild boar was 5% and the deer 38% with the rest being beef. And about the local flavor, well the package said that the deer was farm raised from New Zealand.

Sunset from my sausage BBQ location above Brig.

But the views more than made up for any sausage disappointment (they were still excellent by the way). Watching the sun set over down the Rhône Valley while the shadows crept up the surrounding peaks was a real treat.

 Close up view of the last light – no filter on my camera by must be a lot of haze for this bright orange color.


Hardly any cars came by in the night which meant I had a good sleep, just using a ground sheet, inflatable mat, and sleeping bag. I do have to put in a plug for the sleeping mat I am using. It is the ExPed by Outdoor Research. It is inflatable with a bizarre hand pump (but about ten pumps and you are done) and contains down feathers for warmth. Best sleeping mat I have ever used.

Sunrise over my bivy spot beside the road.

Well rested I returned to the valley and followed the Rhône towards its source. I drove through a string of villages (collectively known as the Goms) that all had beautiful geranium-bedecked timber chalets and onion-domed churches. One of these towns was called Lax.

The local tourism board markets this town with the slogan: (Re)Lax. Not quite sure how you go about promoting one of the other towns I drove through along this same valley.

 The guidebook suggested taking a cable car ride (well actually two) from the town of Fiech. I have been amazed at the sheer number of these incredible engineering marvels as I have traveled through the Alps. Both the French term téléphérique and German seilbahn are the more common names in Europe. These are different systems than the gondola systems found on North America ski resorts as there are only two cars – one coming up and one down which you pass in the middle.

Leaving the quaint village at 1050 meters (3,445 feet) above sea level we travelled (about 50 hikers, climbers, but mostly day trippers going to look at the view) jammed standing up in the car to an intermediate station. Then onto the second line emerging at 2,926 meters (9,600 feet) at a peak called Eggishorn where the view down to the Aletch Glacier is simply incredible. Be sure to click on the Eggishorn link and check out the panorama link. The site of a 23 km (14 mile) long glacier curving beneath your feet is hard to comprehend. This is the largest glacier in Europe and it covers more than 120 square kilometers (more than 45 square miles). A couple of photos trying out wide angle view feature on my camera – one looking north towards the famous peaks of Jungfrau and Mönch at the glacier headwaters and the Aletschorn (4,195 meters/13,763 feet) right across from where I'm standing. The second photo is looking downstream towards the terminal. Almost all the area captured in my photos is covered in the UNESCO World Heritage site.

I did a really enjoyable hike/scramble to a rocky peak to eat a picnic lunch with one of the most amazing views I've ever experienced. The excellent interpretive display panels had pictures that clearly showed how this glacier has receded – a trend I would see repeated. Check out this great website where you can see for yourself the change in the Aletschgletscher (Aletsch Glacier) in just over one hundred years.

Back down and back on the road as I continued up the valley. A quick but interesting stop at a tiny village called Niederwald (only about 20 chalets), hometown of Cäsar Ritz (born 1850 – died 1918), founder of the luxury hotel chain. He and his wife were buried in the church cemetery that had interesting wooden carved tombstones.

Tomb markers, including the Ritz's, in Niederwald.

Reaching the town of Ulrichen I turned east and began the steady and steep climb up to the town of Gletsch and then up the switchbacks to Furka Pass.

The Furka Pass road.

I didn't go all the way to the summit but stopped at the large building, a hotel, on the left side of this photo. I parked here and paid my 5 Euro fee for an opportunity to be inside a glacier. The Rhonegletscher (Rhone Glacier) is located here. It is fascinating to visit for a number of reasons. Firstly, this is the source of one of Europe's great rivers. Secondly, every spring for the past 100 years the owners of the hotel have hired miners who dig a tunnel into the glacier and it becomes a major tourist attraction. Lastly, the Rhone is one of the most rapidly declining glaciers in the Alps. Check out this amazing website for an animated view of just how much it has retreated. Experts believe it will be completely gone by 2100.

The Rhöne Glacier. The tunnel is covered with plastic to stop the sun from melting off the roof, and dropping large chunks of ice on tourists.


The walk into the glacier was a little eerie. The deep blue color of the ice is startling. So too is how hard and dense the ice is. Glaciers are formed when massive accumulations of snow and ice occur at faster rates than they can melt. The combined weight of years of snow compact into rock-hard ice that gravity slowly takes off downhill. As I have experienced with my climbing, the movement of glacier is easy to see. The crevasses that form on the surface are a result of different parts of the ice sheet moving at different speeds. As a glacier moves it is grinding against the underlying bedrock. The creaking sound of a glacier is a little freaky when you are on their surface – it is downright scary when you are deep inside. Still, this was a fascinating experience.

Deep inside the Rhöne Glacier.

I carried on now crossing the Grimsel Pass and into the Bernese Oberland Canton. An overnight stay in a dorm room in a scummy hostel in Interlaken before heading the next day up to the town of Grindelwald. The Lonely Planet guidebook says: "If the Bernese Oberland is Switzerland's Alpine heart, the Jungfrau Region is where yours will skip a beat. The scenery stirs the soul and the epic beauty strains the neck muscles." I could not agree more. The top attraction is a train trip to the Jungfraujoch. Again, Lonely Planet provided helpful information is suggesting that: "Sure, everyone else wants to see it and yes, tickets are expensive, but don't let that stop you. It's a once-in-a-lifetime trip that you need to experience firsthand." They were not kidding when they said expensive – the train ticket was 162 Swiss Francs (that is $157 US Dollars, $169 Canadian Dollars, €107 Euro, £97 British Pounds, or $222 New Zealand Dollars). I think I have the currency of all my family and friends reading this covered.

One heck of an expensive train ticket.

The Jungfrau Railway is sometimes called the pioneer of all mountain railways. It climbs an amazingly steep grade from Grindelwald at 1,034 meters (3,393 feet) up to Kleine Schidegg where you change trains for the 7km long tunnel through the rock of the Eiger and Mönch to reach the highest train station at 3,454 meters (11,333 feet). The tunnel was opened in 1912 having taken 3,000 men some 16 years to drill.

Map showing route to "The Top of Europe".

On the way you pass beneath the Nordwand, the North Face of the Eiger. This is a legendary rock face and climb in mountaineering having first been climbed in 1938 (and the resulting book called The White Spider is a must read for any arm-chair alpinist). The train stops for five minutes at Eigerwand and Eismeer stations where windows have been cut into the rock providing an amazing view out.

The Nordwand, the North Face of the Eiger.

The train stops for five minutes at Eigerwand and Eismeer stations where windows have been cut into the rock providing an amazing view out.

On and up still in the tunnel before reaching the top where there is the Sphinx weather station, restaurants, and souvenir shops. But again, my guidebook had an excellent suggestion. It said if you cross the glacier (the top of the Aletsch Glacier) on a prepared path you can reach the Mönchsjochhütte (an alpine hut) where you can lunch with climbers psyching themselves up or recovering from tackling the Eiger or Mönch. I felt a bit silly walking along the prepared path in a T-shirt and running shoes as walked passed climbers in full gear. But it was worth it – check out these views.

On my way to hut – looking back at the Sphinx weather station. Note the tunnel bottom right where you access the glacier.

The view down the Aletsch Glacier, previously I'd been on the summit of the rock pyramid (just below my right shoulder). The bird is an Alpine Chough.

An easy walk back downhill passing lots of folks gasping for air trying to reach the hut (the signs said 45 minutes but I did it in 15 - guess all these days at altitude have paid off).  One of the other attractions (thankfully included in the price) is the "Ice Palace" – a series of tunnels and sculptures carved in the ice. Yes – the floors are slippery in case you are wondering.

Another day up high in the Alps – but this time it was an incredible train journey that got me there rather than hours of climbing. Even though I've never been to the Alps before there is a degree of familiarity to these peaks having spent years reading mountaineering books and climbing magazines. These really are magnificent mountains. It troubles me to see firsthand the rapid decline of glaciers – global warming is for real! It is also a little odd to experience these magic places with crowds of others (some 2 million people visit Jungfraujoch each year). But I will never tire of these incredible views and being in the realm of the mountain gods. So, the price of the train ticket was totally worth it! I left the glaciers and high snowy peaks making a somewhat rambling cross country way out of Switzerland. That story will be my next post.

To the top of Switzerland: Dufourspitze

With slightly sore legs after my "best run – ever" the night before I headed over to the Zermatt Alpine Center after breakfast. "We have guide for you – he will meet you today at the Monte Rosa Hut at 6:00 pm". And just like I was off on another epic climbing adventure in the Alps, this time for an attempt on the highest mountain in a country famous for mountains. In Switzerland the highest peak is known by two names: Monte Rosa and Dufourspitze. Technically speaking, the correct name is Dufourspitze, which lies in the Monte Rosa Range within the Alps. Wikipedia explains the origin of the two names:  

The mountain was renamed Dufourspitze (French: Pointe Dufour, Italian: Punta Dufour) by the Swiss government on January 28, 1863, in honor of Guillaume-Henri Dufour—a Swiss engineer, co-founder of the Red Cross, and army officer who led the Sonderbund campaign—following the completion of the Dufour Map, a series of military topographical maps created under the command of Dufour. Before 1863 the summit was simply indicated as Höchste Spitze (in German, meaning highest peak); indeed it was even labeled this on the Dufour Map. The Italian name Monte Rosa comes from a local dialect and means Glacier Mountain.


It was suddenly all go to get organized. I bought a round trip train ticket to Täsch where my car was parked to get my climbing gear. Back to Zermatt and the wait for the shops to open. In much of France, and so far all of Switzerland, shops are open from 8:00am – 12pm. They then close to either 1:30 – 2:00pm and stay open to 6:30 or 7:00pm. Finally the supermarket opened at 1:30pm and I bought a few chocolate bars and three liters' of water. Then I caught another train – this one somewhat special.


The Gornergratbahn is a 9 kilometer long railway climbing from Zermatt (which is at 1,604 meters above sea level/5,262 feet) using a third cog rail to reach Gornergrat at 3,089 (meters 10,135 feet). On the way the train passes through five station, a couple of which have hotels but all of them leading to incredible hiking. I was instructed to ride only to the second to last station. But, about mid way up the spectacular route I realized I only had a vague idea of the location of the Monte Rosa hut where I was to meet my guide. I therefore stayed on the train and was able to buy a good topographical map from the souvenir shop at the terminal station at Gornergrat. Then I caught the next train down for one stop and disembarked at Rotenboden (2,815 meters/ 9,235 feet) – it would be foot power from here on to reach the summit at 4,634 meters (15,207 feet).

Getting off the train at Rotenboden with my first view of Dufourspitze behind.

What with the delay from the supermarket and the map purchase I was a little behind on schedule for getting there promptly by 18:00 hours (6:00pm) as I had been instructed given it is a three hour walk from Rotenboden Station. You can see from the photo above that I'm running almost 40 minutes behind. So, I fair had the pace on – although the scenery around me made this very difficult as I kept stopping to admire the view and take photos.

 View of the Matterhorn (with a peak called the Riffelhorn in the foreground)

just ten minutes into my hike.

After about ten minutes I reached a scenic overlook where I joined many others taking a picture with the Matterhorn behind the similarly shaped Riffelhorn. Reaching a trail junction heading into the valley I found almost all the day hikers had disappeared. This was simply magic hiking country, and in perfect weather. After a couple of kilometers I spotted two ibex not too far above me. Ibex are a type of mountain goat with huge curved horns. They were extinct in Switzerland, due to hunting, by 1650 but about a hundred years ago someone poached a couple from the Italian royal herd. In 1920 the descendants from this pair were released for the first time back into the Swiss mountains and today some 12,000 inhabit steep terrain up to 3,000 meters. Although they are hard to see and tend to climb higher on ever steeper and rocky slopes to avoid human contact, so I felt lucky to see them.

Ibex grazing.

Ibex perfectly positioned on the ridge for my photo - thanks mate.

Near the end of the trail was a stone cairn, or perhaps chorten would be a better word, complete with Tibetan prayer flags flying.  What an incredible place to have your prayers blowin' in the wind.

Could be Nepal in the Himalaya.......

No wait - it has to be the Swiss Alps.

The trail dropped fairly steadily until I reached the glacier. I had been assured at the Alpine Center that even though I would have to cross the glacier on my own it was safe as by late summer all the crevasses were open, easy to see, and therefore, easy to avoid. I was told there were flags and markers showing the safest route across to reach the hut. Yet, this is still a glacier and walking on one solo and un-roped is not something I've ever done. I put my crampons on and headed across a very rickety bridge spanning a huge crevasse then spent almost one hour walking across the deeply cracked surface.

Across the bridge and onto the glacier.

Shadow self-portrait as I cross the crevasse. 

Water was running in little streams in parts but after an initial mix of rock and frozen dirt it was mostly very hard ice. The surrounding view helped take my mind off what still felt like a dangerous situation. The trail between the flags traversed some pretty narrow ridges alongside wide open, yet very deep, crevasses. In one crevasse I dropped a huge rock – I counted to five as I heard it rattling down between the ice walls – but I never heard it hit bottom. Not a place to fall in!

Watching my step as I follow the flags across the

Gorner Glacier (the 2nd largest in the Alps).

Finally the trail across the ice reached rock on the far side and it was about a 30 minute grind up the steep valley walls to reach the hut.

Up the fixed ropes over incredibly smooth glacial

polished granite on the last part of the trail to the hut.

Having reached the hut (only ten minutes late) I checked in, sat down for an excellent dinner, and met my guide Karl. He is 23, originally from Austria, but spends about three months each summer guiding in the mountains around Zermatt. We found out we were on the summit of Denali/Mt. McKinley in Alaska just a month apart earlier this summer. Karl also told me of his recent climb of the Trango Towers in Pakistan. He shared how he and his team of four other Austrians were 45 days on the rock – and climbed a new route for the first time. When I asked him if this made him the youngest to successfully climb the Trango Towers – he replied most modestly – "yeah, probably." This climb puts him among the elite climbers of the world.

Monte Rosa Hut.

The hut was pretty full – maybe 50 people of whom about a quarter were embarking on Dufourspitze in the morning with the remainder having just returned or shortly to depart on many of the other surrounding peaks. This hut was amazing by New Zealand standards – a full restaurant and a bar with beer on tap (apparently all supplies are flown in by helicopter). Also, very different from all other huts I've stayed in – they supply you with bedding (sheet, blanket, and pillow) so no need to carry a sleeping bag.

Home for the (short) night.

After a great dinner of pasta, some sort of tasty meaty patty with accompanying thick gravy, it was off to bed knowing I had to be up at 1:45am. It is always hard when you have an alpine start. I'm always excited, a little apprehensive, but above all, worried I'll sleep through my alarm. A wonderful sunset looking out the hut bedroom window down the glacier to the Matterhorn was an incredible ending to a great day and hopefully, a sign of an equally amazing day to follow.

Sunset view out the hut window - WOW!

Up as scheduled, breakfast at 2:00am followed by a quick gear check from Karl, and it was out into the cold mountain air at 2:35am. We were the first party organized and away which was nice. A tough first hour up through the polished glacier rock then huge boulder fields of the old glacial moraines. The underlying rock of the mountain, indeed the entire massif, consists mainly of granite and when the glaciers have receded from an area the rock is as smooth (and slippery) as a granite kitchen counter. Right at 3:30am we reached the first snowfields leading to another glacier so it was on with the crampons and we roped up. Karl used an interesting rope system where instead of the usual 'Figure 8' knot tied into the harness his rope had a sewn-in loop which simply clipped into my locking carabiner. I should also mention that the Europeans are big fans of short roping (the distance between the guide, who usually leads on all but steep sections during decent) with probably only three meters between climbers. They all swear it is safer this way.

Once onto the glacier itself I was glad we were roped – whatever the system. This was a nightmare of deep, connected crevasses and a maze of narrow snow bridges between them. When we steep onto many of the bridges they gave a loud crack – almost rifle sounding. But Karl assured me if I stepped where he did all was safe. It was kind of heart-in-mouth climbing for a while though. Finally across the glacier the slope steepened and we were on much safer snow and ice as we made our way ever upwards. The light of the moon was sufficient so we could turn off our headlamps and we both commented that the enjoyment from moments like this are a big reason of why we both climb.

Then a most curious thing happened. As I experienced on my climbing in Ecuador, the coldest time of the day is about an hour or so before sunrise. The temperature dropped greatly and Karl asked if it was this cold on Denali summit day. Neither of us had anything like these frigid temperatures up high on Denali. With all my clothes, heavy gloves, and woolen hat on I was still bone chillingly cold. Then I suddenly began to have great trouble with my vision. If I rested all was fine – but once plodding uphill everything went blurry and I could see (at least I thought I could) the trail of Karl's footsteps bordered on either side by that bright orange plastic fence stuff they use around road construction sites. I wasn't sure what was going on but was concerned it may be altitude related and spoke to Karl about this. He suggested it was more likely the cold ("maybe your eyes are freezing" he cheerfully offered as an explanation). He said we would go for 30 minutes and then re-assess the situation. After half an hour of really struggling to see – and just as the first rays of light arrived, I was suddenly fine. A most bizarre episode in a way and one I'd be glad never to repeat.

First light.

Then the real fun began. I didn't know this at the time – but Karl wanted to do a traverse of the peak (up one route and down another). Apparently he only does this when guiding a single client "with OK skills" as he described my ability. With two climbers (which by the way is the maximum ratio for guiding on this mountain) he uses the route we would come down for accent and decent. So, across a huge bergschrund (these are like a crevasse and occur where the weight of a slope literally pulls the ice and snow away from the mountain – leaving a deep crack to be crossed) then onto a steep and icy ridge. It takes me a little while to get used to the fact that I need to put all my faith in my feet as I climb steep slopes like this. The front points of my crampons were barely biting into the ice, yet I felt totally secure. The ice was fantastic and we made fairly good progress. Then having reached the top we continued along a knife edge ridge of rock. The view back down the valley to sunrise on the Matterhorn is something I'll never forget.

Sunrise on the Matterhorn through my zoom lens. This is about as little snow you will ever see on this famous peak. Late summer it is mostly a rock pyramid – and five days later on August 19^th it got blasted white by the first storm of the season. Main climbing route is the Hörnli Ridge on the far right.


This took all of my concentration, especially in one place where a bronze plaque was attached to the rock. I asked Karl what it said (the writing being in German) – he said a guide and two clients fell and died here! I was climbing at my limit for rock climbing, except we were doing it in crampons and at 15,000 feet. Again, Karl was really instructive giving suggestions on hand and foot placement and all with a very supportive tone.

Karl giving instructions as we work our way along the ridge.

The orange/blue rope is an old fixed rope.

Then one final and very steep slope to climb with an almighty drop to the right leading straight to Italy.

The final slope to the summit.  If you fall to the right

you will end up in Italy (although probably not in much

condition to enjoy it though!)

Shortly after 8:30am (six hours from hut to summit) we stood atop Switzerland. We dropped off the very top (so technically we were now in Italy) to get out of the wind and enjoyed a 20 minute rest looking out across the Alps. Karl pointed out all the famous peaks, and usually highlighted the various climbing routes while I took dozens of photos. The actual summit is graced with a large metal cross.

On top of Switzerland - Dufourspitze at 4,634 meters.

Karl, the master guide on the summit  - his 4th on this mountain.

 

A number of plaques were on the summit.

Not sure I agree with the quote....oh, hang on, I get it!

Yeah, now I agree whole heartedly.

View from the summit - across to Liskamm (4,527m)

and Mt. Blanc (just right of center) in the distance.

View from the summit across the many glaciers

to the Matterhorn - its summit some 200 meters below Dufourspitze.

Leaving the summit we traversed the ridge for a while dropping a little elevation as we did. It was incredibly narrow with a huge drop-off on either side. In typical under-stated fashion Karl said at one point "Attention here please" – then added that a French guide and his client had fallen to their deaths here just four weeks ago. That kind of news got my full attention!  Then we dropped into a steep couloir (an open, steep gully usually containing ice or snow) and did five pitches of rappelling (abseiling) to get down to a col or pass below.

Karl rapping the first pitch - not too steep.

Looking down from my belay station after the second pitch;

now a lot steeper.  Note the three climbers at the bottom who

are waiting to climb up.

Finally down at the col the view back up what we had just come down was impressive. It made me prefer the traverse route Karl had selected as I sure would not want to climb up that couloir – despite the presence of some big old fat fixed ropes.

Looking back up what we have just come down.

Then the long plod downhill in ever warmer temperatures was underway.

The long march down - always heading towards the Matterhorn.

Looking back up towards the summit. At this point while taking a quick break Karl used his cell phone to call his girlfriend who works in a hotel in Zermatt. I found the whole thing pretty funny thinking we were in the midst of a rugged alpine wilderness experience and he calls his girlfriend to say hello. We had a good laugh over this.




The never ending downhill trek continued – now re-crossing the glacier. The good thing about climbing at night is that sometimes you can't see all that much terrain about you. However, now in the full light of day the tortuous and twisty path through the rotten ice of the glacier was daunting.

Trying to find our way through the glacier.

Then back down the polished rock slopes with my knees really sore. I am finding as I get older that the downhills are tougher than the uphills. Hour after hour, in plastic climbing boots slowly giving me blisters, is tough and my pace tends to decrease while the need for rest breaks increases. Some interesting rock formations though helped pass the time.

These huge rocks are called 'erratics'. They were carried here by the glacier, and once the ice melted off (in this case some several hundred years ago) they remain precariously balanced. Actually, with thousands of tons of rock it is quite firmly in place.

Finally almost back but time for a quick look at the almost completed new Monte Rosa Hut.  This state of the art alpine hut has received a lot of publicity while I've been here as I've seen TV programs, maganize articles, and brochures (all in German of course).  Above is the link if you are interesested in learning more (and you can read German - or French).  Or even better, a link in English is here (thanks Lou).

The new  almost finished Monte Rosa Hut.

We were shortly back at the old hut and the boots came off at last. I bought Karl and I lunch, he selecting spaghetti for the carbs, and me rösti, a Swiss specialty that is shredded potatoes fried in butter with fried eggs on top – yum. We sat in the sun enjoying the food and being stopped. We were the first party to leave and the first back making the round trip in 11 hours. Karl gave his honest appraisal for me climbing the Matterhorn. He thought I'd have no problem going up but my pace down Monte Rosa concerned him as the Matterhorn is 10 hours of decent on very steep rocky terrain with huge drops off. My legs were really sore after the five hours of down we had just completed – I couldn't imagine that just being half way. So, I decided upon my return to Zermatt I would cancel my Matterhorn reservation for a guide but will consider taking Karl up on his offer to climb with him at other places in the Alps after three weeks when his contract in Zermatt will be over. Apparently, I am in good company as I read that when visiting Zermatt in 1894, the young Winston Churchill insisted on an ascent of Monte Rosa rather than of the Matterhorn, not only because of its superior height but also because the guides' fee was substantially less.




I gave Karl a tip and bid him farewell. He was staying in the hut to meet two clients (and he would start the climb to Dufourspitze all over again in just 12 hours). I had to retrace my steps back down across the glacier and all the way back to Rotenboden to catch the last train by 6:00 pm. It was a long, hot hike with sore legs and blistered feet. As soon as I was off the glacier not only did the crampons come off but so too the plastic boots. This trip may be my last in plastics – I think I am finally convinced of the benefits of the new synthetic (crampon compatible) boots my buddy Seth has been raving about.

Back at Rotenboden a little sun burned, tired,

but having been on the peak over my right shoulder just 10 hours earlier.

Despite the unbelievable views from the train I just could not stop myself from falling asleep after 16 hours of hard climbing and hiking. I went to the Tourist Information Center and was helped by a young guy whose sister has just married a Kiwi. He made a couple of calls and found me a cheap hotel room close by and within the hour I had showered, eaten, and was asleep.




The next morning I paid a visit to the excellent Matterhorn Museum, built underground right in the heart of Zermatt.

The Matterhorn Museum, built to resemble the mountain.

One of their featured exhibits is the infamous rope that broke between Edward Whymper and four of his party after the first successful summit of the Matterhorn on July 13, 1865.

Probably the most famous broken rope in mountaineering.

But they also had an interesting exhibit on Dufour and the peak that now bears his name.

Photo of Guillaume-Henri Dufour.

Museum exhibit showing where I'd just been.

Seeing this exhibit really brought home the accomplishment of the past couple of days. Just a week after Mt. Blanc I had climbed the second highest, and far more technical, peak in the Alps. I had enjoyed great weather, had my confidence restored, and felt I probably climbed at my very best. You never know who will come into your life and when – but I am very thankful for meeting Karl. He was an exceptionally nice, kind, patient, and above all, skilled mountain guide. I hope we climb together again my friend.