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Published: August 18th 2016
Magic Moment
Lapping up the sunshine in front of the TrübseeFour years ago I spent a glorious month hiking and cycling through the Canadian Rocky Mountains, from Banff to Jasper and back (with a detour to Yoho National Park as well) along the Bow Valley and Icefields Parkways. The epic scenery, unforgettable wildlife encounters and sense of being at one with nature that I experienced during those four weeks have been etched into my sub-conscious ever since. But as much as I would love to make it back to the Rockies some day, I have also long since wondered whether I might be able to find a comparable landscape in Europe - and so it is that I found myself planning a trip through the Swiss Alps.
And though my partner Linda - with whom I have spent months exploring both the East and West coasts of Australia in a campervan during the past couple of years - enjoys a scenic hike as much as anyone I know (case in point: the Coast Track near Sydney, which we tackled during our last road-trip), even she draws a line at hiking hour after hour, day after day for weeks on end. The solution? To leave Linda in Germany visiting friends and
Icons of Lucerne
The Kapellbrücke and Wasserturm (Chapel Bridge and Water Tower) family for three weeks (during which she would fly to Dublin with her Mum for a week-long road-trip around Ireland) while I headed off to Switzerland to pack in as much scenic hiking as possible.
On our previous trip to Europe for Christmas in 2014 I had picked up a guidebook for what was called the 'Swiss Alpine Pass Route' - a 326km hiking trail that crosses Switzerland from Sargans in the east (near the border with Liechtenstein) to Montreaux in the west (on the shores of Lac Leman / Lake Geneva) - which itself has been incorporated into the Via Alpina, a 5000km network of trails that stretches through eight countries. Though I would have neither the time nor the inclination to hike the entire route, I had decided to tackle six stages (out of fifteen in total) in the centre of the route, which would take me from Altdorf (near the shores of the Vierwaldstattersee / Lake Lucerne) all the way to Kandersteg - a distance of about 135kms in all - in a south-westerly direction; before then turning south and crossing the Gemmipass to finish up in the thermal resort town of Leukerbad.
Given the
Raging River
The River Reuss swollen by recent rainfall challenging nature of the route (each stage that I hoped to complete would cover at least 20km, with over 1000m of ascent and descent required to climb up and over each mountain pass) I had decided to adopt the same alternating day-on, day-off schedule (with two nights spent in each town along the way) that I had followed whilst cycling around the Netherlands four years earlier, so that if the weather was bad or I simply needed a break I could use my second day in each town as a rest day - though in practice I hoped to use these days to further explore my mountainous surroundings on day-hikes.
With two of my three weeks in Switzerland thus committed to following the Alpine Pass Route / Via Alpina, I was left with four days in Lucerne at the start of my trip to explore the mountains around the Vierwaldstattersee; and a further four days at the end of my trip to explore the area around the Aletsch Glacier and the Matterhorn; before wrapping things up in the capital Bern on Switzerland's national day (the 1st of August).
Of course all the planning and wishful thinking in the
My welcome to Switzerland!
Taking shelter from a thunderstorm under the cover of the Spreurbrücke (Mill Bridge) world would count for nothing if the weather failed to cooperate... which for my first four days in Switzerland is exactly what happened! After having had mostly sunny, warm weather (up to thirty degrees) for the whole of the previous week in Prague and Germany, just ten minutes after I arrived in Lucerne (on Monday 11th July) the heavens opened - and the rain would continue to fall for most of the next four days. And given that the nearby mountains I had hoped to get out into were barely visible through all of the clouds, there didn't seem to be much point in forking out loads of Swiss francs to attempt to visit them, what with the resulting lack of views to be seen from their lofty heights. So thus my four days in Lucerne were largely spent sitting around at my lakeside backpackers hostel waiting in vain for the weather to improve, with my sole source of exercise being the fifteen-minute walk into town and back each day to check my e-mail (and the latest weather forecast) at the Tourist Office in the central train station. At least it was a nice walk along the lakefront, I suppose...
Medieval View
View of Lucerne's Alte Stadt (Old Town) from the city walls Worse still was the fact that I was due to start my hike along the Via Alpina on the Friday - my fifth day in Switzerland - which would mean having to cross the Surenenpass at almost 2300m above sea level, when I couldn't even see the summit of Pilatus (the closest mountain to Lucerne) which at an altitude of 2132m is almost two hundred metres lower than the Surenenpass. And with the weather not forecast to improve until the Saturday, there was no hiding from the fact that any hike over the Surenenpass would be, quite literally, a walk in the clouds... not exactly what I had come to Switzerland for. Reminding myself that the point of my trip was to ENJOY each day's hike rather than simply COMPLETE it, I eventually came to the conclusion - amid much anguished soul searching - that the best course of action would be to cancel my hike over the Surenenpass the next day and take the train to Engelberg (my next overnight stop) instead. So much for my grand hike across Switzerland...
My decision was justified the following morning when I awoke to the same low blanket of clouds
Waiting for the clouds to clear
Riverside view of the aptly-named Ent der Welt (End of the World) on the outskirts of Engelberg that had put a dampener on my previous four days, so after lingering over breakfast at my hostel I eventually tackled the lakeside walk to the train station for the final time, before hopping on a train to Engelberg - a small but popular tourist destination set at the end of a deep valley surrounded by high mountains... or at least that's what the map and guidebook said; on first impressions it looked to me more like a ghost town surrounded by little more than thick clouds! Nevertheless, with the rain at least holding off for the time being and check-in at my hostel not available until much later in the day, I set off up the valley to get a better look at my new surroundings and check out an impressive waterfall that was thundering down from the cliffs outside of town - no doubt swollen by the copious rainfall of the previous few days.
Heading back past town in the other direction I soon entered the Aashclucht, where the Engelberger Aa river has carved a narrow gorge that drops nearly 400m in just 4km. With typical Swiss ingenuity a hiking trail follows the river downstream through the
Precision Swiss Engineering
The first of eight suspension bridges crossing the river on the Aaschlucht trail gorge, using a series of eight suspension bridges to continually cross and re-cross the river... and all the while accompanied by the constant roar of cascading water. It was hard to believe I could have such a spectacular trail all to myself - and that was before I came across a sheltered rest area (complete with dining tables, bench seats and cleverly-designed water features) hidden beside a cliff-face a kilometre or so into the gorge, which looked to be a labour of love for a particularly inventive local (the only other person I saw in the gorge was an older local man who was doing some sort of woodwork nearby - I can only assume he was the 'Toni' referred to on the name carved into the roof of the shelter, 'Toni's Balm').
The whole effect of the gorge, the brilliantly-designed hiking trail through it and the added touches of human creativity scattered throughout were simply magical. This was a day that I had hoped to spend hiking the Via Alpina, only to be denied the opportunity by the weather; yet by the time I made it back to my hostel late in the afternoon (after hiking about fifteen
Crystal Clear
Small mountain stream bisecting a pasture in Engelberg kilometres in total over the course of four or five hours) I had a smile on my face and a skip in my step that had been sadly lacking over the previous four days. All I needed now was a decent feed, a good night's sleep and a change in the weather (which had been forecast all week to arrive on Saturday) and I'd be back in business...
And wouldn't you know it, those weather forecasters were spot on! A quick glance out the window the next morning told me all I needed to know - the sky was blue, the mountains were big, and there were hiking trails everywhere just begging to be explored. There was only one trail that interested me though - the steep climb up to the Trübsee, an alpine lake that lies in a flat basin high above the Engelberg valley on the way to the Jochpass. Aside from the obvious attraction of visiting a beautiful lake ringed by mountains, this would also allow me to get a head start for my hike along the Via Alpina to Meiringen the next day, since by knocking off the first 5km and 800m of ascent on
Imposing Profile
The unmistakable bulk of Hahnen rising up beyond the Engelberger Aa river the way to the Trübsee on Saturday, I could then take a cable car back up to the lake on Sunday, and thus shorten what would otherwise be a 30km hike with 1800m of ascent (ie an arduous 10-hour slog) into a more manageable 25km hike with 1000m of ascent (ie a challenging but enjoyable 7-hour hike) with a clear conscience!
To start with though, I couldn't resist going for a leisurely walk around the Eugenisee - the beautiful, turquoise-coloured lake that I had passed on the edge of town the previous afternoon - to admire the view of the surrounding mountains rising up on all sides of the valley, and simply enjoy the feeling of sunshine kissing my skin for the first time in almost a week. Rarely have I derived so much enjoyment from such a short walk (the lake being only a five-minute walk from my hostel)! But this was only the warm-up act, so eventually I tore myself away from the lake and followed the river upstream to where a trail enters the forest, and tackled my first climb on the Via Alpina up to the Gerschnialp - where suddenly I emerged from the forested
Grazing Cows and Grassy Cliffs
My first of many encounters with Swiss cows slopes into a broad, flat pastureland backed by steep cliffs and filled with the unmistakable sound of cowbells clanging in every direction.
It wasn't long before I had my first bovine encounter, as the trail then cut across the edge of a field and right through a group of around twenty grazing cows - who had made themselves so comfortable that I had to carefully inch my way around them as they stared nonchalantly at me! Soon afterwards the climb resumed in earnest as I huffed and puffed my way up the side of the cliffs through a kaleidoscope of wildflowers, with cable cars gliding almost silently overhead as I rounded every second switchback. Onwards and upwards I trudged - sweat pouring off me as I went - until eventually after almost two hours of climbing I reached the top of the cliffs and was able to catch my breath as I surveyed the incredible panorama of mountains laid out before me, with the town of Engelberg barely visible down in the valley some 800 metres below.
But if I thought that view was special, even better was yet to come when just a few hundred metres away
Stunning Sight
My first glimpse of the Trübsee I rounded a corner and set my eyes for the first time on the stunning, almost silver-coloured expanse of the Trübsee. To see this beautiful sheet of water shimmering in the sunshine with a wall of high peaks rising up behind it was no less breathtaking than the climb up to see it had been; and the effect was even further enhanced by the quintessential Swiss sight of numerous cows grazing (and presumably sunning themselves) by the edge of the lake, as bemused tourists took pictures of them from every possible angle!
After setting down my pack and pulling out some well-deserved pastries to fuel up on, I simply sat on a bench and stared awestruck at the scene in front of me - which I have to admit brought back memories of a similar moment four years ago when I first set eyes upon Moraine Lake in the Canadian Rockies, which had triggered a similar reaction. Eventually I managed to gather my wits enough to head off around the lake on the 3km lakeside trail, drinking in the views and lingering over every different angle I was presented with along the way. If this would prove to be
What a difference a day makes
Engelberg looking beautiful under a (mostly) blue sky the ultimate highlight of my time in Switzerland - and it certainly came pretty close - then I wouldn't be disappointed!
But my day wasn't over yet, so after completing a full circuit-and-a-half around the lake I headed off to complete my loop hike with a slightly-less steep descent back to Engelberg, which again led me down to a broad pastureland at the base of the Gerschniberg cliffs, before heading through a small gathering of farmhouses to emerge on a grassy ridge with a beautiful view overlooking the town - with the Aa river flowing down the southern side of the valley, the beautiful Eugenisee lake sitting serenely at the western end of town, and the 900-year-old monastery (after which Engelberg - meaning 'Angel Mountain' in German - is named) dominating the town centre. Even after returning to my hostel for a shower and then going out for a delicious meal, I couldn't resist spending a further hour or so enjoying the last of the day's light with a leisurely wander around the town, through the grounds of the monastery and then back down to the lake one final time, and with the town already sitting in shade but
Worth the climb
View from the top of the Gerschniberg cliffs the mountains at the head of the valley (including the 3238m Titlis, which was finally visible in all it's glory) still glowing in the sunshine, it was pure magic!
If anything the weather the next day was even better, with the full skyline visible from the 2593m Rigidalstock on one side of the valley all the way around to the 2700m Wild Geissberg on the other side; the 3000m+ peaks of the Grosser Spannorter, Kleiner Spannorter and Titlis dominating the head of the valley; and perhaps most impressive of all, the imposing bulk of the 2606m Hahnen looming up directly behind the town, with it's twin peaks looking like some sort of medieval viking helmet, and, naturally - this being Switzerland after all - a lone farmhouse sitting almost halfway up it's steep slopes. How different a scene to that which greeted my arrival in town two days earlier!
After stuffing myself at the breakfast buffet in my hostel it was time to pack my bag and head off for my (belated) first full day on the Via Alpina - and what a day it was! Taking the cable car back up to the top of the Gerschniberg
Alpine Splendour
The Trübsee, high above Engelberg cliffs at 1800 metres, I was immediately re-acquainted with the stunning sight of the Trübsee (this time without the whispy clouds hovering beneath the peaks behind the lake) and couldn't help once again lingering over the view. But with 25km to cover and plenty of climbing still ahead of me, it wasn't long before I set off up the slopes to the south of the lake to tackle the final 400m switch-backing climb up to the Jochpass... and boy was I glad I'd knocked off the first 800m of the climb the day before! Sweating bullets and stopping constantly to catch my breath, the climb proved to be far more gruelling than I'd anticipated; while the presence of small snowfields still lingering into the summer months didn't help my situation - if there's one thing I dread on a hiking trail it's having to walk on snow!
Time and again throughout the next fortnight I would be forced to cross 45-degree slopes covered with snow (though never more than a hundred metres across or six inches thick) and would proceed to perform my best impression of a cat trying to cross a stream without getting it's feet wet! The
sight must have been quite comical to Swiss hikers whose standard reaction would be "it's only snow - you just walk right through it", but having spent the vast majority of my life in the hot, sunny climate of Australia where my only memory of snow was hitting my Dad in the nether regions with a well-aimed snowball on a brief holiday to the Snowy Mountains when I was a kid, sane thinking simply doesn't come into the equation - I just don't feel comfortable walking through snow!
Thankfully the snow crossings on my climb to the Jochpass were only brief, and after countless rest stops I finally caught sight of the berghotel (mountain hotel/restaurant) backed by a still-frozen lake at the crest of the pass (2207m), and was able to enjoy not only the views looking back towards the Engelberg valley (with the Trübsee still clearly visible in the centre) but also ahead into the Gental valley, with the Engstlensee lake glistening seductively only a short distance away at a similar height (1850m) to the Trübsee. So after a brief pause to snap a couple of pictures and suck down some more water, I set off down into
Another turquoise jewel
The Engstlensee from above the Gental towards the beautiful oval-shaped body of water below, with the trail having taken a right-angle turn at the pass to continue on in a westerly direction after having headed south up to the pass.
While the chairlifts passing constantly overhead may have reduced the feeling of solitude somewhat - and with it being a sunny Sunday in the middle of summer there were certainly no shortage of people enjoying the picturesque surroundings - it was nevertheless a delightful walk down to the Engstlensee, whose turquoise-coloured water (typical of glacier-fed lakes and rivers) beckoned irresistibly... though as much as I would have loved to have gone for a swim in the lake I simply couldn't muster the necessary fortitude to brave the cold water! And with the only bakery and supermarket in Engelberg having been closed when I left town - thus depriving me of my usual bounty of pastries to snack on - I soon pressed on to satisfy my growing hunger at the nearby Hotel Engstlenalp, from where I could survey my options for the rest of my hike to Meiringen.
The simplest and easiest onward route was to follow a trail along the valley
Rocky Trail
Fixed cables along the trail between Engstenalp and the Tannensee floor beside the Gentalwasser stream, which was recommended in the event of bad weather. Option number two - which was listed in my guidebook as the 'main route' on the Alpine Pass Route - was to follow a 'belvedere' (balcony) course halfway up the side of the valley, which would provide better views. But the official Via Alpina route - which I was always most likely to take in good weather - would see me climbing up the side of the ridge running down the right-hand side of the valley (ie back up to 2200m, meaning another 400m climb) and then follow an exposed trail along the top of the ridge all the way to it's far end at a place called Planplatten, where I would then be faced with a descent of over 1600 vertical metres to reach my destination for the day in Meiringen... in other words, by far the most demanding option I could choose! Naturally I chose the latter option...
With fixed chains in place to assist hikers on some of the more exposed sections of rock, the trail wound it's way up and over the initial ridge to a small scattering of buildings near
Knife-edged Ridge
Following the crest of a ridge towards the Balmeregghorn the shores of the Tannensee - yet another beautiful blue lake backed by high cliffs - before following the crest of the ridge as it rose to the 2255m summit of the Balmeregghorn (which was little more than a bump on the ridge) by which time the ridge had narrowed to a virtual knife-edge; with yet another lake (the Melchsee) visible down to the right and the steep walls of the Gental plunging down a thousand metres to the valley floor immediately to the left of the trail... and with only an old barbed-wire fence to protect hikers from a potentially fatal fall! It was the first time in my life that I could remember finding the presence of a barbed wire fence comforting...
From the Balmeregghorn the ridge dropped to a saddle before rising again to a height of over 2500 metres, though the trail itself could be clearly seen contouring along the left-hand side of the ridge before stretching off into the distance towards the just-visible top cable car station at Planplatten. And as if the sight of the trail winding it's way across the 45-degree slope with a thousand metre drop to the valley below wasn't
About as scenic as trails get
The trail contouring along the side of the ridge towards Planplatten enough to give me the heebie-geebies, I first had to negotiate a small snowfield lying in the saddle directly beneath me... and all the while there was not another human being in sight!
Tentatively I inched my way across the snowy saddle, before beginning the long and winding traverse along the side of the ridge that alternated between sunny stretches of mostly dry trail and shaded stretches harbouring more dreaded patches of snow, which would continually slow my progress to a crawl... and all the while the sun was sinking slowly toward the horizon somewhere beyond my field of vision. But with the spectacular profile of the Wetterhorn and it's mountainous Berner Oberland brothers luring me on ahead - and after being passed by an Italian hiker who had been desperately trying to reach Planplatten before the final cable car of the day left - I eventually made it to the station at Planplatten, where the lone cable car attendant was about to leave himself, and despite clearly being surprised to see someone up there at this time of day (almost 6pm) he cheerfully confirmed that I should be able to make it all the way down to Meiringen
Scenic Signpost
Trail sign on top of the ridge at Planplatten in 2-3 hours.
With the hardest part of the walk behind me and at least another three hours of sunlight left in the day (the sun not setting until around 9:30pm in the evenings) this was all I needed to hear, and so while not exactly looking forward to the punishment my knees would take on what was probably the greatest vertical descent I had ever attempted in a single day, I nevertheless set off in a relaxed mood for the long and winding descent into the Haslital, half-blinded by the sun's reflection off the long scoop of the Brienzersee up ahead in the distance, and unable to keep my wandering eyes off the jagged profiles of the mountains rearing up on the far side of the Haslital - somewhere at the base of which, still hidden from sight, lay my overnight destination.
Down, down, down I went; past the occasional farmhouse, through gate after gate separating the neighbouring pastures - most of which are surrounded by electric fences - and stopping off occasionally to check my progress against the map or fill my water bottles from one of the taps that spill water constantly into carved wooden
A sight for sore eyes
View of Meiringen from just below Reuti troughs outside each farmhouse; until eventually I passed through the small but charming hamlet of Reuti at just over a thousand metres above sea level. From there a final switch-backing descent through the forested lower slopes of the Hasliberg (within earshot of the churning waters of the Milibachschlucht) led me down to Meiringen, where I emerged from the trees just downstream of a spectacular waterfall, where the Milibach stream thunders down from the forest above and then flows arrow-straight down a man-made channel to intersect with the Aare River - near the junction of which lay my accommodation for the night.
It was 8pm - nine hours after I'd set out from the cable car station beside the Trübsee - and I'd been hiking for at least seven of those nine hours, but it had been worth every single step. And I still had dinner and a cold beer to look forward to!
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