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Published: July 25th 2018
Lofty Peaks
View of the Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau from the SefinenfurggeTwo years ago, on my last trip to Europe, I had attempted to hike from Engelberg all the way to Leukerbad (about 130km in all) through the heart of the Swiss Alps, along a section of the multi-national Via Alpina trail network. Unfortunately though, having successfully crossed three reasonably high mountain passes (the Jochpass, Grosse Scheidegg and Kleine Scheidegg) on my way from Engelberg to Lauterbrunnen, I was then forced to abandon my attempt to cross by far the two highest passes on my route – the Sefinenfurgge at 2612m and the Hohtürli at 2778m – due to bad weather. While I was then able to complete the final leg of my through-hike from Kandersteg over the Gemmipass and down into Leukerbad, this left a gap of about 25km, stretching between the town of Mürren (above Lauterbrunnen) to the north-east and the Oeschinensee lake (above Kandersteg) to the south-west – both of which I had visited on day hikes before turning back the way I had come.
So from the moment that Linda and I had decided to return to Europe (to attend her brother's wedding, amongst other reasons) in 2018, I had been eager to return to Switzerland in
V-Shaped Valley
View of the Kiental from the Sefinenfurgge order to hopefully complete my mission from two years earlier. Unfortunately the timing of our holiday meant that I would be having to tackle these two high passes several weeks earlier in the summer than on the previous trip, meaning that snow cover could most definitely pose a problem. And unlike on the Jochpass, Grosse Scheidegg and Kleine Scheidegg there are no roads, railways, chairlifts or any other from of mechanical aid available, making both the Sefinenfurgge and Hohtürli much more remote destinations (with much loftier elevations) when compared to their more famous, tourist-heavy counterparts to the north-east. On the bright side however, if I could make it up to either of these passes, the dozen or so companions I might have to share the experience with - all of whom would have to have climbed at least a thousand vertical metres on foot to get there - would ensure a much more peaceful experience than the hundreds (if not thousands) of tourists that pour out of trains atop the Kleine Scheidegg at regular intervals throughout the day.
So after attending Linda's brother's wedding in Mannheim on the Saturday (and consequently missing out on a seven-goal shoot-out between France
Dramatic Backdrop
View of the Blüemlisalp towering above the farm buildings of Burgli and Argentina in the World Cup – which up until that point I had barely missed a minute of!) I said farewell to Linda and jumped on a train to Interlaken in Switzerland, from where I could continue on to Mürren to pick up from where I had left off on the Via Alpina two years ago... or at least that was the plan, until just an hour before my inter-city train to Interlaken was due to arrive I received an e-mail alert from Deutsche Bahn to say that my train had been cancelled! As it turned out the train was actually still running, though only as far as Basel on the border; and rather than watching the world fly by from the relative luxury of a reserved seat on a super-fast modern train with free on-board WiFi and efficient air conditioning, I was left to suffer through a considerably slower ride on a much older vintage of train that had none of the comforts that I would otherwise take for granted – especially in Germany of all places!
And if I thought my first world problems were over upon arriving at the central station in Basel to find
Tourist Town
Street scene in Mürren, with the western wall of the Lauterbrunnen Valley in the background an inter-city train to Interlaken waiting on the adjacent platform, I was in for another rude surprise... for after taking my seat and immediately connecting to the train's on-board WiFi, I was soon to hear the first of many announcements (all in German) that the train's departure would be delayed due to 'technical difficulties' in our carriage! “Not to worry - they'll sort it out soon enough”. Or so I thought. Until after waiting for more than twenty minutes for the fault to be fixed – during which time I was completely in the dark about what was going on (both figuratively and literally, as the lights in our carriage had been turned off!) - I suddenly noticed all of the other passengers gathering up their belongings and forlornly leaving the train... and eventually came to the realization that by now this service had also been cancelled!!!
Eventually though I did manage to find a train that was in proper working condition to take me to Interlaken, and from there headed up into the mountains with a train to Lauterbrunnen, a cable car up to Grütschalp and a ridiculously-scenic mountain railway to Mürren (the exact same route that I
A view worth waking up to!
Outside the Mountain Hostel at first light the next day had taken ten years earlier, incidentally) where a mad dash eventually yielded the prize I had been searching for: a pub showing the World Cup match between Spain and Russia, which incredibly would end with a surprise victory to Russia after a penalty shoot-out! With two hours to kill before the next match, I then followed the stunningly beautiful walking trail down to Gimmelwald (as I had done on BOTH of my previous visits to Switzerland, in 2008 and 2016) from where the massive proportions of the Jungfrau mountain opposite can best be appreciated, with the view stretching all the way from the mountain's base on the valley floor (at around 860m above sea level) to the peak at 4158m – that's more than two vertical miles of rock, snow and ice! A few more cold beers, another two hours of football, and another improbable penalty shoot-out later, I was finally able to rest my head, full of hope for what promised to be a beautiful sunny day to come (the last one for a while, according to the weather forecast) on which to tackle the first of my nemeses from two years ago: the Sefinenfurgge.
I wasn't to
Rise and Shine
Riding the early morning cable car from Gimmelwald to Mürren be disappointed. Rising at 6am the next morning to be greeted by a glorious, cloudless sky, even the fact that I'd only slept for two or three hours (anticipation and excitement for the day to come having left me lying wide awake until at least 3am in the morning) couldn't dampen my spirits! By 7am I was on the cable car heading back up to Mürren (at 1638m), and ten minutes later I was back on the Via Alpina at exactly the same spot that I had turned back from two years earlier. No sooner had I left Mürren than the views started opening up, with the main wall of Berner Oberland peaks stretched out before me – from the Jungfrau to my left all the way to the Breithorn dead ahead – and an intermediate ridge topped by the Gspaltenhorn soon poking it's way into the view from my right. As the trail ducked it's way in and out of small patches of forest, it felt as though I was playing hide and seek with these mighty peaks; until I emerged from the towering pines for the final time at the hanging valley of the Schiltbach, where the farm/hotel
Wildflowers and a Wall of Mountains
A lush meadow of wildflowers on the lower flanks of the Sefinental buildings of Spielbodenalp sat at the base of a steep-sided rocky peak - which I then had to huff and puff my way up and around on a painfully long series of switchbacks!
Having stopped to regain my breath after this brutal climb, I soon rounded a bend to emerge high up on the sides of the Sefinental – the twisting valley that would ultimately lead me all the way to the pass. Pressing on through a carpet of wildflowers that would surely be paradise for bees and butterflies alike, I was eventually stopped in my tracks by a small herd of cows coming from the opposite direction, who had clearly decided like me that the flowers were far too precious to trample underfoot, and were therefore sticking to the same half-metre-wide trail that I was on! While I tried to remind them that the Via Alpina was designed for human use, they were having none of it – and quite right too, given that in all likelihood the trail was probably created by cows in the first place! One by one they slowly passed by, until at last I was able to continue on my merry way... only
Hikers Haven
The Rotstockhütte, cradled in a valley beneath imposing peaks to then be shaken from my reverie five minutes later by the sound of thundering hooves coming from behind me, at which point I promptly turned around to be confronted by five young bulls charging headlong in my direction!
Like a gang of juvenile (bovine) delinquents they advanced on me, snorting their outrage at my intrusion into their territory, until they were only a few metres away. By this time though I had decided to call their bluff, and so after stopping to watch their aggressive snorting display – an obvious attempt at intimidation – I then took a couple of steps straight back towards them... and wouldn't you know it, suddenly this little posse of tough guys weren't so tough after all! I couldn't help letting out a chuckle as they scattered in all directions and headed for the hills – their resemblance to a group of teenage humans was inescapable! We really aren't that different at all, cows and humans! And just like my bovine protagonists, I was in need of a pasture in which to rest – which in my case took the form of the Rotstockhütte, a hiker's haven sitting in the centre of the
The Object of my Exertions
First glimpse of the Sefinenfurgge - the low notch in the craggy ridgeline above valley at 2040m, with the imposing cliffs of the Hinderemhorn rising up immediately behind it.
From there the trail swung around to the left (south-west), before climbing more steeply into the narrowing upper reaches of the Sefinental. Eventually I caught sight of the headwall at the end of the valley, littered with snow patches and curving up at an ever steeper angle; and there, dead ahead, lay the object of my exertions: the Sefinenfurgge, a low notch in the craggy ridge over which I had to pass if I wished to continue on down into the Kiental on the other side. With half-a-dozen or so barely-discernible hikers already standing atop the pass, it was only too obvious how they had gotten there; for the 'trail' could be seen zig-zagging it's way straight up through the snow, and presumably most – if not all – of my peers had benefited from the use of that almost-obligatory Swiss outdoor accessory: hiking poles. The one accessory I didn't have the luxury of! Well, that AND proper hiking boots...
Nevertheless, I hadn't come all this way - and lost all that sleep - just to turn around and give up when the
A Gift from the Gods
The strategically-positioned rope that aided my climb to the Sefinenfurgge going got tough; though with no travel insurance policy to speak of (nor have I ever had one) simply 'throwing caution to the wind' would hardly have been the most prudent approach either! So after tying my food bag to the top of my backpack to ensure I would have both hands free, I set off slowly up the scree- and snow-covered slope, trying at every possible opportunity to get off the snow and back onto the scree! And then just when it became clear that I would have no option but to climb the rest of the way up a steep snow chute, there snaking it's way down towards me in the snow was a fifty-metre-long length of rope, which had been secured to a large boulder just a few metres below the crest of the pass. My saviour! Lunging forwards and upwards with the desperation of a drowning man clutching at a life raft, I grabbed hold of the rope and said a quiet prayer of thanks to whomever it was that had secured the rope at such a crucial point of the climb. I smiled to myself, took a deep breath, and proceeded to haul myself up
Proud Moment
Atop the Sefinenfurgge at 2612m the final incline one step at a time – trusting my hands on the rope far more than I could ever trust my feet in the snow! And soon enough, I was at the top – 2612 metres above sea level, and nearly a thousand metres higher than where I had started the day in Mürren. Damn it felt good.
From the pass a final view of the Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau standing in profile could be had looking back to the north-east, while ahead to the north-west lay the Kiental – down which I would be heading all the way to Griesalp, 1200 vertical metres below. But as challenging as the climb up to the pass had been, it was actually the descent on the other side that I had been most nervous about, thanks to the warning in my guidebook that “Descent on the western side of the pass is both steep and tricky... Caution is necessary here, for a fall could have serious consequences”. Thankfully though my first sight of the route ahead laid my mind to rest, as the steep drop from the pass was facilitated by a seemingly endless series of timber steps, with
Steep Descent
The almost endless series of timber steps leading down from the Sefinenfurgge a fixed cable running alongside for support – punishing for the knees though this may be, at least there would be no danger of slipping and falling. And so I was able to soak up the views from atop the pass knowing that my safe passage down to Griesalp was virtually assured – especially given that the storm clouds forecast to close in later in the day had still not yet materialized.
As expected my descent into the Kiental was enjoyable if uneventful, with the looming bulk of the Blüemlisalp massif towering above the head of the valley off to my left providing the scenic highlight of the afternoon. It was a sobering thought to know that if I were to complete the following stage of the Via Alpina in the coming days as I hoped to, it would be over the shoulder of this hulking mountain that I would have to pass – with the Hohtürli lying just over 800 metres below the Blüemlisalp's three highest summits, and a full 1400 metres above Griesalp. And while I couldn't quite make out the Blüemlisalphütte - which sits just above the Hohtürli at 2840m - on the ridgeline above, there
Lush Valley
The Kiental valley leading to Griesalp was no mistaking the fact that this would be an excruciating climb. Of course it didn't help that unlike the climb to the Sefinenfurgge, which had been spread out over almost four hours of hiking - during which time I could only ever see the next few hundred vertical metres of climbing to come - I was now confronted with the entire climb from valley floor to ridgeline above in one succinct, if intimidating, view.
But this would be a problem for another day – and not the following day either, for aside from the weather forecast for the next few days being less than favourable, I had made a firm commitment to myself beforehand that if I did make it over the Sefinenfurgge to start with, I would most certainly require a full day's rest to recover from that ordeal before contemplating the next stage over the Hohtürli. My foresight turned out to be just as accurate as the weather forecast, for upon arriving in Griesalp at 2:30pm in the afternoon – just half-an-hour before the heavens opened and the first rains started to fall – my body immediately started crying out in agony, with all sorts of
Home Away From Home
Back at the wonderful Naturfreundhaus Gorneren in Griesalp, two years after my previous visit aches and pains that had until now barely registered in my mind suddenly overcoming me! Calves, hamstrings, quads, shoulders... it seemed like every inch of my body was stiff and sore. Still, this was hardly surprising, considering that my training for this hiking trip had consisted of spending the entire first week of my holiday in Brussels drinking beer and watching football – all day, every day! And my punishment? Well, by the time 4pm rolled around – at which time the World Cup second round match between Brazil and Mexico would have been starting – I was already asleep in my room at the Nature Friend House in Griesalp! Nor did I make it down to the central square to see if any of the hotels there were showing the later game between Belgium and Japan – which true to form turned out to be a five-goal thriller, with Belgium scoring the winner in the final minute of added time! Oh well, at least I'd earned myself a day's rest...
As expected, Tuesday was a complete write-off – both due to my physical condition and the state of the weather – so I decided to head down out
Medieval Stunner
The Aare River, with Thun's Stadtskirche rising up in the background of the mountains to Interlaken, which in addition to being the 'backpacker capital' of Switzerland is also in close competition with Queenstown in New Zealand for the title of 'adventure sports capital of the world'. Not only would being in Interlaken guarantee that I would have somewhere to watch the football, it also meant that if the weather wasn't too bad over the coming days I could tackle the 63km Thunersee Panorama Rundweg – which as the name suggests is a scenic loop trail around Lake Thun – whilst waiting for the weather to improve in the mountains.
And so it transpired that after the dual disappointments of watching Switzerland get knocked out of the World Cup by Sweden, and then seeing England somehow manage to survive a penalty shoot-out against Colombia, I took a train the next morning to Thun at the opposite end of the Thunersee. Situated at the point where the Aare River flows out of Lake Thun and then splits in two around an island in the middle of the river, there could hardly be a more scenic location for this beguiling medieval beauty; with the sight of the twin towers of Schloss Thun (Thun
River Surfing
Local surfer taking on the standing waves of the Aare River Castle) and the Stadtskirche (City Church) sitting atop a hill in the centre of town matched only be the views of river, lake and mountains stretching away to the south-east from their grounds. Add to that the unexpected attraction of local surfers (yes, Switzerland has surfers!) strutting their stuff in the standing waves created by sluice gates underneath a beautiful covered wooden footbridge over the Aare River, and I had a pretty compelling reason to kick back, relax and while the rest of the day away in Thun!
But that's not really my style (my holidays have always tended to be more
rewarding than
relaxing) so eventually I managed to find the necessary motivation to strike out along the Thunersee Panorama Rundweg around midday – figuring that I'd walk about 17km or so to Merligen on the lakeshore, then hop on a bus to Interlaken from there. After a brief but worthwhile detour up the Cholorenschlucht (Choloren Gorge), I was soon disappearing into the forest on the lower slopes of the mountains rising up from Lake Thun's northern shore... which was just as well, given that after a mostly sunny morning the rain never seemed to be far away
Superlative Suspension Bridge
The Panoramabrücke Sigriswil: 340 metres long and 180 metres high for the rest of the day. Having struck out into the open and followed some quiet country roads high up above the lake for a while, I then dropped down a long set of steps and entered a completely different world: an eerie but beautiful forest of tall pine trees interspersed with huge slabs of rock, whose cliffs would rise abruptly from the forest floor. The only time I had seen anything quite like it was on a trip through the Mullerthal in Luxembourg many years ago, and this was just as sublime a sensory experience.
Eventually I came to one of the highlights of the Lake Thun circuit, the 340-metre-long, 180-metre-high Panoramabrücke Sigriswil – a massive suspension footbridge towering high above a ravine on the outskirts of Sigriswil, a village set high on a natural terrace a couple of hundred metres above the lake. With the weather having cleared somewhat, the 360-degree views were most impressive – which almost justified the 8CHF (about $11 Australian) fee for crossing the bridge! After stopping for lunch in Sigriswil, I then followed the trail downhill all the way to Merligen on the lakeshore, by which point it was already about 5:30pm
The Road Ahead
Following a quiet country road down towards Merligen in the afternoon and I couldn't be sure whether there would be any more buses passing on the way to Interlaken – so I decided to just walk the remaining 12km instead!
Of course I would come to question this decision over the next two-and-a-half hours – particularly after having to go for about an hour without any water, as the trail continued to contour high up on a hillside that seemed to be totally devoid of freshwater streams – but eventually the end of the lake came into view, and I was able to take a shortcut alongside a main road to my overnight stop for the night: a hostel in Unterseen (across the river from Interlaken) that had only been open for a couple of weeks! With no football on for the next couple of days, my only tasks for the evening were to find the nearest restaurant (thankfully only a five minute walk away) to indulge in a long, satisfying meal washed down with an equally satisfying weisbeer, and shoot the breeze with my Chinese roommate back at the hostel. 29km down; 34km to go...
Leaving Interlaken to follow the southern shore of the Thunersee
Quiet Crossing
The Panoramabrücke Leissigen: 140 metres long and 60 metres high back towards Thun on Thursday morning, I hadn't made it far before the rain clouds that had been gathering above finally started emptying their contents – which, though inconvenient, at least justified my decision to spend a couple of days at these lower altitudes... I sure wouldn't have wanted to be hiking over a high pass in this sort of weather! Another high suspension bridge was reached high above Leissigen (though this one was only 140-metres-long and 60-metres-wide – which hardly rates a mention in this country of engineering marvels)! Close encounters with a couple of locals – one a cow, the other a lovely older gentleman who spoke particularly good English and had been quite the adventurer in his time – broke up the tedium of traipsing ever onward through the rain, until finally the trail met up with the lake-shore once more below the town of Krattigen. From there I was able to follow the shoreline through the picturesque waterfront town of Faulensee and onto it's more famous counterpart further along the lake-shore: Spiez.
Sitting beside what the local tourism board has dubbed 'the loveliest bay in Europe', Spiez is certainly easy on the eye, boasting as
Waterfront Wonders
Close-up of Schloss Spiez & the Schlosskirche it does the same combination of castle and church as nearby Thun – only in this case they sit on a small promontory set just back from the waterfront, gazing back at the rest of the town from across the small but photogenic bay, which acts as a natural harbour for a flotilla of boats. But with the rain closing in once again and my accommodation for the night lying about a dozen kilometres behind me in Leissigen (I had booked it two days earlier, not realizing I would end up walking the full length of the northern side of the lake on Wednesday) I headed up the hill to the train station – pausing briefly to admire the view of the steel-grey-coloured sheet of water stretching out from Spiez' lovely little harbour – and then hopped on a local train back to Leissigen, where my relief at having an entire dorm room to myself in a separate building to the rest of the hostel (allowing me to hang all of my clothes out to dry) was matched only be my appetite at the breakfast buffet the following morning! 49km down; 14km to go...
But with the weather having
The Loveliest Bay in Europe?
View of the Thunersee from outside Spiez Bahnhof still not gotten any better overnight, I was undecided as to whether or not I should even bother walking the final 14km from Spiez to Thun on Friday. On the one had, I had already completed more than three-quarters of the circuit, so why not finish what I had started? Then again, having only just gotten everything dry from my previous day's jaunt through the rain, did I really want to go through all of that again? And would I even enjoy it anyway?!?
These were the thoughts swirling through my head as I took the train back to Spiez on Friday morning; after which I spent an hour or so simply sitting around at the train station waiting to see if the rain would stop. Deep down I guess I wanted to complete my loop around the lake, for no sooner had the rain backed off in intensity to little more than a light drizzle, than I was off to the bathroom to get changed into my hiking clothes... despite still questioning my reasons for doing so! I needn't have bothered. As I made my way back down towards the waterfront where I had left the trail the
Not Today!
View of the Thunersee from outside Spiez Bahnhof the next morning day before, the rain slowly started picking up again; and within five minutes of leaving the station I was forced to finally admit defeat with the words “f_ck this, I'm out of here”!
But at least on this occasion the clouds had a silver lining, for over breakfast at the hostel I had managed to check the weather forecast for the coming days, and if the Meteorological Bureau of Switzerland were to be believed, the weekend would bring clear skies - not only over the lower-altitude lakes, but up in the mountains as well. Forget my 'training hike' around Lake Thun - my quest on the Via Alpina was back on!
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D MJ Binkley
Dave and Merry Jo Binkley
Congratulations
Perserverence in your journey-- not to be stopped by trains and wildlife you made your goal. Thanks for taking us along. Nice journey.