Mountains beyond mountains

Hola amigos, I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya ... and no excuses.  Things have indeed been pretty busy around here, but really the main reason I haven't made any updates to the blog is just plain laziness.  Not a whole lot to say, really.  And, you know how it is: put it off for a little while; then you start feeling bad that you didn't do it when you should have; which makes you not want to do it; which makes you put it off some more; which makes you feel even worse; etc.  Kinda like bathing.  Anyhow, it is starting to look like my days in la Suisse may be numbered, so I figured I should sort of empty the metaphorical hopper of all the stuff I haven't posted yet just so that it will be there for all.  Seeing as how I talk to most of my "readership" personally (Hi Mom), most of you have probably heard of or seen a lot of this, so you'll have to wait for even later updates for some new info.

---

The Jura, redux

No other place on earth offers more and better mountain adventures than Switzerland.  In the summer time, the possibilities are nearly endless.  As I was pretty sure going in that this would be my last summer here, I figured I should try my best to get out as early and as often as possible.  By May, the nearby Jura Mountains were mostly snow and mud-free, so I started there.

Fig. 1: L'arbre des 2 menteurs, the "tree of the two liars," near the Creux du Van.

For my first hike of the season, I re-did my first hike in Switzerland -- I went from the Gorge de la Poëta Raisse to the beautiful Creux du Van, near Neuchatel.  The hike was much the same as before, sans the getting lost, except there were a couple of surprises.  First, the above tree.  It is, as the plaque indicates, the Tree of the Two Liars.  If you search for the phrase in French on google (with quotes), it will not return a single hit.  Searches for the translated phrase in English were not much better.  So, then, what is the deal with this tree? I have no clue.  I figure, though, that by posting something online at least I will be establishing some sort of trail which eventually might lead to some info.  There was a farmhouse somewhat nearby, but no one was home when I went past so I could not get any local info to help me out, either.  And, no, the tree isn't special in any way -- it looks just like any other tree, outside of the plaque.  Maybe the internet will eventually come up with an answer.

Fig. 2: ShamWow!  The reintroduced chamois have absolutely no fear of people as they are a protected species.  These guys -- massive, pointy horns and all -- had no problem wandering around me while I hiked by.

One more exciting thing from this hike was that --unlike last trip -- I got to see some of the famous chamois of the region.  Chamois used to be native to the region, but industrialization and increased population wiped them out a while ago.  They were artificially reintroduced at some point and have since thrived in their reclaimed homeland.  More known in the US for their soft, smooth leather (shammy), these guys are protected by law and will not ever be used to polish expensive cars.

---

Chartreuse

The next hiking trip I went on (or, at least the next one I can find good pictures of) was to the Chartreuse region, near Grenoble.  After meeting Loren in Grenoble, we hopped on a bus and headed into the wilderness to spend then day hiking, then camping out in the wild.  Unlike in Switzerland, where tent camping is illegal throughout, in France one is allowed to make temporary camps (bivouacs) as long as you have packed everything up in the morning.  As we were only planning on staying one night, this was just fine with us.

Fig. 3: One of the many awesome limestone cliffs of Chartreuse.

The Chartreuse region is made out of soft limestone and over the millennia, rainwater has carved it out leaving a bunch of caves, cliffs and other exciting features.  The views off of the top were absolutely incredible, and the heavily carved nature of the rock meant that there were just tons of unusual things.

Fig. 4: The Trou du Glas.  Although it was the middle of the summer, there were huge pieces of ice inside this little cave and the water inside was icy cold and delicious.

Fig. 5: One of the more unusual things in Chartreuse.

---

Zinal Glacier

Even more mountains! As I have mentioned before on this blog (somewhere, I'm sure), the mountains here are peppered with cabins that are run by the Swiss Alpine Club that you can stay at for a very reasonable price. So, instead of camping out in tents, if you want to do an overnight or multi-day hike in Switzerland, you generally end up staying in one of these mountain huts or cabins. The cabins are staffed during the summer hiking season and the winter skiing season and they offer a really nice dinner, breakfast, and the company of other people. Although it seemingly rained all August, toward the end there was one weekend that was nearly perfect. I got on the train, then took a (totally packed) bus out to Zinal, which is quite literally the very furthest east outpost of French speakers in the country. It is well into the alps and a great jumping off point for a bunch of different hikes. I decided to head to the Zinal Glacier and to stay at the Cabane du Grand Mountet nearby.

Fig. 6: The Zinal Glacier.

Not to sound like a broken record, but it was an incredible hike.  The trail was really, really tough (the ascent was more than 4000 ft over about 8 miles) but the valley that it ascended was incredible and the view of the glacier at the end was definitely worth it.

Fig. 7: The Cabane du Grand Mountet.

Fig. 8: At every cabin, they always have a bunch of slippers for you to wear inside. Usually, they are kinda old and not available in my size, but at the Cabane du Grand Mountet, it was first-class all the way.  Check out these custom Swiss Alpine Club Crocs.  I know that I've probably sworn that I would never wear Crocs, but I felt like I could make an exception this time.

Fig. 9: Near the Cabane du Grand Mountet.  What kind of blog post would this be without a picture of a beautiful scenic landscape largely obscured by my head?

---

The Berner Oberland

The most famous hiking region of Switzerland is definitely the Berner Oberland.  Basically, a couple of valleys and a bunch of famous mountains (Eiger, Monch, Jungfrau) near Interlaken, it is the definition of "post-card Switzerland."  The area is extremely popular with Japanese tourists (I read somewhere that at roughly any given time in the summer more than 25% of the people in Interlaken are Japanese) and now Indians (who come to enjoy the alpine scenery that features prominently in many Bollywood films).  Thanks to the influx of tourists, there are an incredible number of trains, lifts, and gondolas that will take you up to some incredible viewpoints (including the Jungfraujoch, the highest train station in Europe).  Of course, thanks to the influx of tourists, these trains are ridiculously expensive.  As they are also at least two connections away from Lausanne, it's also a bit of a pain to get there, so until this summer I had never really been in the area.

Fortunately, though, Migros (the supermarket) was running a little sticker-collecting promotion that allowed you to get certain tourist train tickets two for the price of one.  Jens, officemate extraordinaire, and I decided to take this opportunity to head out to the Berner Oberland and to hike the Faulhornweg, allegedly the most awe-inspiring and beautiful hike in all of Switzerland (so says Rick Steves and two other guide books I own).

Fig. 10: Jens and Paul, looking good in the Berner Oberland.

As you can see, the views were incredible!  I wish I had a picture with at least a hint of a mountain or two, but we literally could not see a single peak all hike.  The layer of clouds and fog was so thick that the temperature difference at the top of the hike and the bottom was like 30 degrees (maybe 40 on the top and about 70 in the valley).  So, this was about the best picture we got all day.  Well, at least it was good exercise.

Fig. 11: We need more Bort license plates in the gift shop. I repeat, we are sold out of Bort License Plates.

---

Via Ferrata at Jaegihorn

A via ferrata is a climbing route that has been set up with a permanently fixed metal cable running the entire length. Climbers wear a normal climbing harness equipped with two special ropes (called longes in French) that are attached to the cable to catch the climber if he/she falls.  In addition to the cable, there are also (generally) numerous metal supports, brackets, rungs, and bolts that have been attached to the route to help climbers through difficult patches.  The idea is that the routes are sort of an intermediate difficulty between normal hiking and real climbing.  Although I really do not have the upper-body strength for real climbing, I figured that a via ferrata would be a fun challenge so I decided to go along with my friend David on a trip he organized.

Fig. 12: Me (in the center) with part of the via ferrata posse.  This shot shows a really flat and easy part of the route.

Although I definitely had some idea before I left, I guess I really didn't realize just how difficult the trip would be.  At first, you climb along the rocks, holding onto little handles, putting your feet into cracks, and generally feeling like a badass mountain man.  Then, the holds get smaller, the climb gets more vertical, and you have to start really thinking about where to put your hand next.  After a while, though, you figure out how things work and it becomes fairly routine.  Then, we hit this:

Fig. 13: The infamous cable bridge of the Jaegihorn Via Ferrata.  Probably not a lot of fun for those who are sensitive to vertigo, but with all the safety cables, it wasn't that bad.

It is hard for the picture to do justice, but this suspension bridge (which is two cables wide) is really high up (328 ft up) and really long (295 ft long).  The safety ropes really help with balance (having one above your head puts you in a naturally balanced position) but the length combined with the high wind made it very, very tense.  Of course, I knew about the bridge ahead of time and figured that although it would be tough that I could make it without incident.  I was right, but what I didn't know about was what was after the bridge.

Fig. 14: The bridge and monkey net.

It is really difficult to see in the photo, but after the bridge was a monkey net -- which was difficult to climb and tiring -- and then a sheer vertical wall.  Although most via ferratas have lots of iron rungs bolted into the wall, this one was apparently set for a much greater difficulty and there was very little aid.  At times, you would find yourself resting on a single half-inch bold that had been drilled into the wall, staring down to the rocks, hundreds of feet below you.  Of course, nearly everyone else who went had a lot of (real) climbing experience, so I got a lot of help and advice in terms of where to put my hands and feet which really made the whole thing a lot more doable.  In the end, I was really proud of myself for making it to the top and I definitely got a taste for more via ferrata in the future.

Fig. 15: This is some sort of mountain goat.  Everyone had a theory about what type it was and what it was called in German or English, but none of us were really sure.

---

OK. That's all for now. But, I definitely promise more updates to follow. Maybe not soon, but soon enough. Thanks for your patience.

Mountains, mountains, mountains!

As the weather has been ideal, I have been doing my best to do as much hiking as possible lately. Switzerland, as I have mentioned many times before, is really a hiker's paradise: not only are there mountains, hills, lakes, and natural wonders aplenty, but they are easily accessible to anyone with a Swiss Railway half-fare card.

Aside: the half-fare card (aka the halbtax or demi-tarif) costs a scant 150 CHF a year and gives you a 50% discount on virtually all forms of transportation in the country -- trains, boats, buses, trams, funiculars, etc. A quick calculation reveals that it only takes about a half-dozen trips between Geneva and Lausanne a year before one earns back their money, thus the card is generally cost-effective for nearly everyone who lives in the country. Now, you ask, what if you don't live in the country? What do you do? Well, if you've come and visited me, you know that the answer to this is: you pay -- a lot! A half-fare card for a single month costs 100 CHF (what a deal!) and in general is less economical than just getting a full-fare pass for the few days that you will need it. So, the net result of the half-fare card is that -- like many things in this country -- it heavily taxes people who do not live in Switzerland to the benefit of those who do. The more you look at things in Switzerland, the more you realize that things are frequently set up this way. But, I digress .....

Mountains! Lots of mountains! First up, the beautiful Hohturli and Oscheninsee.

A few weeks ago, I found myself without much of anything to do on a Sunday and I decided to open up my trusty Walking in Switzerland -- which is out of print and sells for $30 at Amazon and I found at Book-Off for $3 -- and pick out a day hike. Being a masochist, I chose the only single-day hike in the book that was categorized as "hard." The hike starts in the remote mountain village of Grisalp, trundles up a beautiful valley, then cuts aggressively up to the pass at Hohturli.

Fig. 1: Hohturli pass. The "trail" follows the cliff wall on the side right up to the pass without any screwing around.

As a veteran hiker, I've been on a number of hikes that might be called "grueling," but I think this bit of ascent probably makes the top five. The "trail" makes no attempt to switchback or meander, instead it takes the "method of steepest gradient" and heads straight for the pass.

Fig. 2: At places were the rock is just too steep and too dangerous, a system of cables, ladders, and stairs keeps you safely on the path.

Once you get to the top, though, you are rewarded with breathtaking views:

Fig. 3: The Blumlisalp glacier. Unfortunately for all of us, Switzerland is great place to see global warming in action. Glaciers like this are retreating so fast that many have even disappeared.

As is typical in Switzerland, there is a hut at the top of the pass (owned and run by the Swiss Alpine Club) as well as a couple of other places to stop and eat or sleep along the way. I decided to stop at a place right near the Oescheninsee for a relaxing coffee. The Oescheninsee, by the way is absolutely gorgeous:

Fig. 4: The Oescheninsee. Although I did not take it, I am told that there is an actual trail that follows the green ledge, roughly halfway up the cliff. I think that's going to have to wait until after I get over my fear of hiking along cliff faces above freezing water.

As the Oescheninsee is a popular place for hiking and relaxing, the local tourist board decided that it would be a good place to showcase the work of some local artists. All of the work is made out of local tree stumps and rocks and such, and some of the artists did their best to make the piece "fit it." Of course, I had no idea of any of this when I got there, so it was at first extremely creepy when I saw faces staring back at me from fallen trees.

Fig. 5: If you didn't know any better, would you realize that this was a piece of art? It definitely has a creepy backwoods sort of look to it; I think I can be forgiven for thinking that I had wandered into some sort of Blair Witch scenario.

Fig. 6: This one clearly looks a lot more obviously scuplted, but not any less creepy.

Fig. 7: OK, this one is pretty obviously art -- what with the obvious tag and all.

In the end, I did something like 4600 ft of elevation gain and 10 miles of distance. I would definitely agree with the book's rating of "hard," but that would not prevent me from recommending the hike to anyone who has a Sunday to spend in Switzerland. After all, what else are you going to do?

---

A couple of Sundays ago, I went with the Swiss Alpine Club on a hike in the Valais. Although it didn't math the brutal vertigo-inducing terror of the first hike I took with the group, it was not as slow or easy as my second experience and was thus just about right. I was, again, the youngest member of the team (by about 15 years, at least) and, again, the only one who spoke any English. Still, people were super friendly and did their best to make conversation with me and generally keep me involved. It was an awesome hike.

Fig. 8: The big lump in the distance is Mt. Blanc, the highest point in Europe.

Fig. 9: "Lake with Flowers." For the interested photographer, the camera and settings I used to get this awesome effect were: Canon SD 400 camera, "macro." Macro is the little button with the picture of the flower.

One of the coolest aspects of the hike was that the trail was surrounded by fruit bearing bushes. Although I am generally afraid of eating things that don't come wrapped in cellophane, I was assured that none of these were poisonous and that I could gorge myself to my heart's content. It was awesome; at some point, I stopped picking blueberries because I just wasn't hungry anymore. I never though that could happen.

Fig. 10: Myrtilles - blueberries. These were all over the trail, with the plumpest ones being at lower elevations. Watch out, though, as there is another bush that grows nearby and produces similar looking fruit which are un-tasty and poisonous.

Fig. 11: Framboises - raspberries. These were incredible. Juicy, sweet, bite-sized. Although not as common as the blueberries, these were also easy to find.

That's it for the mountains. Next time: a critical analysis of translation issues in Calvin et Hobbes.