Month: August 2016

Ali – Last week we made the family decision to brave the 3.5 hour one way train to ariel tram to gondola trip to  Bettmerhorn to hike along the Aletsch glacier for our Saturday outting. We were inspired both by the fact that this is the longest glacier in Europe and by an imaginary dialog we envisioned between Maya and her grandchildren. The dialog went something like this: 

Grandma Maya: I still remember the time I saw Europe’s longest glacier.

Grandkids: Grandma Maya, what’s a glacier?

Grandma Maya: A glacier is a big chunk of ice

Grandchildren: Grandma Maya, what’s ice?

Grandma Maya: Well ice is what happens when water freezes

Grandchildren: Grandma Maya, what’s freezes?

Grandma Maya: It’s what happens when something gets real cold

Grandchildren: Grandma Maya, what’s cold?

…..

Inspired and depressed by our global warming humor, we figured we better check this baby out before it’s too late. The Aletsch is 23 km long and up to 900 m thick. Joe said that it is melting at a rate of 27 inches a day but I have not been able to confirm this figure and I’m suspicious given that this is clearly a metric system glacier. [Joe: Actually, it was 20cm per day…metric!]

So 7am Saturday had us on a train headed south with butterfettmachers in hand. Hours later we arrive at Betten where we hop on the largest arial tram I’ve ever seen. More akin to a dangling shipping container smuggling immigrants than an arial tram with hikers I would say.

The arial tram let’s us off in Bettmeralp, which is a cute ski town with no cars and overpriced lodging.

We wandered a bit until we found the gondola to the top and climbed in with a nice German tourist heading to the top. He spoke only German and tried to tell us about the local fauna, which consisted of schafe (sheep… got it!) and murmentler (spelled phonetically as I heard it). He spent a couple minutes trying to describe this mythical beast but we were clueless. 

So we reach Bettmerhorn where there is the requisite cliff-side mountain top restaurant and a starkly beautiful landscape that is  ‘alien world’ awesome. 

The Matterhorn sits in one direction and the Aletsch glacial sits in the other direction nestled lovingly in a valley. Pictures don’t really do justice; it felt a bit like seeing a black rhino- impressive, large, weird looking and destined for extinction. 

We hiked along the edge for 3 ish miles, scrambling over what looked like a rock slide covering the trail but actually was the trail. Then we veered off and headed into a valley which had a small lake infestation. 

After hiking for another mile there appeared on the horizon our midway point: the Gletscherstube. Roughly translated that means glacier living room and it’s a little hikers hut sitting in the middle of nowhere. Now we had all been looking forward to this midpoint as the hiking guide claimed there was delicious apple tart to be had. For a small hut in the middle of nowhere it was ridiculously crowded but we squeezed in when a group of Brits vacated their seats and immediately ordered beer, Rivella (quintessential Swiss beverage made from milk whey) and apfel küchen. 

Soon a lovely Swiss couple joined us and asked about American politics. They confirmed for us that the Swiss watch American politics like Americans watch reality TV: a dirty pleasure that entertains while making  you feel superior.  

After stuffing Küchen in our pie-holes we headed back on the trail. There were a few live obstacles in our way on the last leg of the journey, including the fierce Swiss guard cow that attentively monitors the trail for threats. We didn’t see the guard cows in action as they were pretending to be regular lazy Alpen cows but we knew better. What self-respecting Alpen cow would be lying across a cliff side trail when there are fields of verdant Alpen hills to wander? So obvious.

Finally we made it to Fiescheralp for the gondola down to catch our 3.5 hour train back to Zurich. We were all a bit fried from the Alpen sun and had to endure the airless train because, you know, drafts are deadly. But well worth it for a peek at a melting wonder.

Joe: With trekking poles in hand, and having warmed up on a pretty easy loop round the Riesen Riesen (See Ali’s previous post), the family set out to summit our first big mountain without the help of a gondola, cog train or mountain goat. The excursion Ali had planned for us included a steep hike up to a mountain lake (Seealpsee), a relatively liesurely hike around said mountain lake, a steep hike up to the summit of Ebenalp  (with a rest stop at a curious cliffside Gasthaus, followed, finally, by a civilized tram ride down to the base of the mountain at Wasserauen.  The day before, Ali and Maya had discussed their preferences for routes, with Ali preferring the route just summarized (plan A, hiking up), and Maya preferring to ascend by arial tram, and then descend by foot (plan B, hiking down). I jokingly mentioned that we could please both of them by hiking up and down (plan C, the non-starter). Ali won this one, so we went with plan A, or so we assumed…

After an early start, a Bütterhalbmondfettmacher breakfast on the train, and a transfer from the high-speed “tilt train” to the low speed local train (slow, but lovely, I should add, despite being designed to strictly conform to the Swiss preference to avoid drafts (that is, absolutely no air circulation, and likely low O2 levels, just to be on the safe side)) we found ourselves in a train packed with trekking poles and their owners, most of whom looked far more experienced than us. Exhibit A for more experience: The two women occupying the seats in front of us merily mowing through a bottle of bubbly at 8am…carbonated wine in a low oxygen environment on the way to a seriously steep hike? They must be experts. 

After arriving at the last stop, we followed the more experienced across the street, over the mountain stream, and to the tram house, in search of the trail head.  It seems we were about the only ones looking for a trail. Just about everybody else headed straight for the line for the tram. 

But not us…we headed around the tram house, still looking for the trail head. Fortunately, we were quickly reoriented by a friendly old man who took time from his espresso to inform us that the trail head was down the road a spell (Spoiler: Actually, the trail we wanted  was up the road a spell). 

We soon found the (a) trail, and started up, trekking poles at the ready. Fifty meters later, we are 30 meters above the valley and noticing the “trail”, which started out well troden, was now less of a trail and more of a hillside cowpath. 

Maya convinced us to turn around and we soon realized that we had indeed missed a very hard to miss turn. Not 50 meters in, and already lost…

Though the trek up from there was steep, it was nevertheless uneventful. Maya decided that trekking poles are not for her, but Ali and I will never again hike without them. They help.

After climbing steeply, the trail opened into a beautiful Alpine cow pasture, passed the cows themselves, then turned steeply up again.Truly beautiful. 

But wait. Wasn’t there supposed to be an Alpine lake? Alpine cows are descriptively named and all, but we were promised a descriptively named lake. “This is not the trail you are looking for”, mooed the cow, ding-donging it’s cowbell hypnotically.

Soon after leaving the cow pasture, and before tackling the next steep, we took advantage of some shade and stopped for lunch next to a kit of young men hiking in Kilts and smoking pipes.

We eventually found the trail we were supposed to be on, because it merged with our trail at the bar-on-a-cliff. 

After securing a sunny spot (that’s a bad thing)  at the Gasthaus, we had two beers, an apple Schorle, and a decision to make. Continue to continue up towards the summit/arial tram, or hike down on the right path? There must have been something in that apple Schorle, because we convinced ourselves it would be better to just finish off with the uphill slog. And boy are we glad we did.
Because just up and around the bend from the cliffhanger Gasthaus was a church housed in the famous Wildkirchli caves! 

Well, a teeny tiny church, anyway, steeple and all, with pews and an alter. Crazy, I know. A few meters further, and we were hiking through the main cave where apparently the hermits, Neanderthals and cave bears lived (not simultaneously I assume). The coolness of the trek through the cave was a welcome respite from the broiler pan that was the cliffside in front of the Gasthaus. A few meters further, and we were atop the Berg. As an aside, I should mention that the entire hike was mosquito free.  Bug free, in fact,  not counting the flies that pester the cows and their dung, and also not counting the paragliders, of which there were swarms. 

Ok. So we are at the summit. Maya, a trooper throughout, is just about at the end of her rope (a rope that we soon learned should be used to tether her to a parent). Now what? Are we done? There is still plenty of day left, and we didn’t get to hike the trail we came to hike. What about the descriptively named alpine lake, Seealpsee? It took a bit of convincing, but we “decided” that hiking down would be the best thing to do, delightfully civilized arial tram be damned. So while being strafed by just- launched paragliders, we turned tail and headed back down, back through the cave, past the church-in-a-cave and the bar-on-a-cliff, and yes, past the sign pleasantly advising parents that now may be a good time to tether the little ones. (The sign advising downward-bound hikers to not look left was apparently missing.) I looked to my left a few times, then leaned right for most of the way down. This trail, like the Gasthaus and the church, was cliffside. And steep.  Zoiks.  Families with small children. Older folks. Pets! All are happily ascending and descending just inches – no centimeters, sorry – from a perilous drop off. Eventually, we leveled off, just prior to hitting Seealpsee.  The lake was indeed beautiful, though the secret is out, as the path around it was flush with fellow hikers. 

Ali and Maya spotted a great spot on the shore,  a rocky outcropping that very much reminded us of Quinnabaug in Canada, both being on the water and the product of glaciers.

After an unplanned dip in the lake followed by a bloodletting/toe stubbing by Maya, and a pantsless dip by Ali, we continued on our way.  

The remainder of the journey was on a paved yet at times very steep road (we had once again lost the trail). We were safely bottom bound. 
After a Biergarten stop to cool off and watch the paragliders land, we hopped our draft-free train back to town, feeling tired and very proud of ourselves.  And just a bit hypoxic. Please…somebody…open a window! 

Maya and I just did some pick your own berry picking this morning – blueberries and blackberries at Jucker Farm outside Zurich.

In stark contrast to yesterday’s weather,  it was cool, cloudy, and a bit rainy, so we were the only ones picking. There was a group of small children making use of the fire-your-own wurst concession, which was pretty darned cute. Might I add, also, that there is no way a group of four-year old kids in US daycare would be allowed anywhere near pointy sticks or a large fire pit, nevermind the two in combination.

There were also a few people in the farm restaurant, where we stopped for a delicious farm-fresh lunch. Oh, and dessert too. Ahhh, Switzerland. 

Ali – Our Saturday tradition (all of 4 weeks old) is to go for a hike. So, drawing again from the 32 most enjoyable Swiss hikes, we headed to a 14 km hike that took us past the Rheinfall. We picked this hike because it was only an hour away, the Rheinfall was on our hit list, and lastly but most importantly, the trail was flat and doable for our out-of-shape American bodies. The hike began in Schaffhausen, which boasts an imposing 16th century fortress (Munot Fortress) that I dragged the family up many flights of stairs to see. Just as Maya was complaining about having to see a dumb fortress and why couldn’t we just go to the hike, we reached the moat, which was occupied by what I assumed must be highly trained attack deer guarding the fortress. I think the moat standard is water plus maybe a man-eating crocodile but the wily Swiss apparently go with innocent-looking deer. I assume they got the idea from Monty Python and the Holy Grail Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog.

After the Fortress we started on our hike following the Rhein. The hike meandered through some vineyards and thorny blackberry bushes, on which we left skin and blood in exchange for delicious blackberries.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After an hour or so we reached the Rheinfall, purportedly Europe’s largest waterfall. We also seemed to reach half of Europe’s current tourist population. We jostled around a thicket of tourist humanity to view the falls, which were impressive but I think objectively less awe-inspiring than Niagra. However one can take a boat to a large rock outcropping in the middle of the falls and stand with a subgroup of humanity above the falls getting modestly drenched waiting for the next boat. We opted not to do that.

 

I took advantage of the sudden wealth of bathrooms to take a pit stop and was greeted with my favorite Swiss sign aimed at tourists. You might look at the picture and be tempted to say this is aimed at third-world visitors who are unaccustomed to the luxury of toilets but note the sign is written in English….here’s looking at you Americans.

After the Rheinfall, the wanderweg (hiking trail) hugged the Rhein and continued downriver. Maya and I noted quite a few flights of steps leading into the river and, after seeing a swimsuit-clad couple climb in, promptly stripped down to bathing suits (which we have learned are essential items to carry to every destination) and dove in. The swift current carried us downstream faster than Joe, hauling everyone’s gear while filming us, could walk. We climbed out at the next Schwimmbad (of course there would be a schwimmbad within 100 feet of us because schwimmbadi are as common here as Royal Farms in Baltimore) and recommenced our hike, which was about 2/3 over.

The last segment wound through the woods above the river and Maya got great rock-throwing practice and trail-sprinting practice. I got to bust out my new trekking poles, which Maya said made me look 90 years old and she proceeded to call me ‘grandma’ for a while. At last we reached Rheinau where we found a monastery and guys carrying large horns. The wanderweg conveniently ends at a restaurant that specializes in ice cream and sits 1 minute walk from our bus back to the train station.

We had totaled 32,000 steps for the day and around 13 miles when we ended our trip back in Zurich, all feeling like that was about our American endurance limit.  While you may be tempted to think that all this fresh air and hiking is good for our health, I should note that the Abrahams are actually apparently slightly allergic to fresh air and exercise. Joe has developed his first ever bout of seasonal hay fever and is covered with a roving rash that pops up on random body parts. Maya has a nice European cold, which means every sneeze sounds like a phrase in German. I have developed my first ever eye sty, despite being a veteran contact wearer who should be immune to any known germ after years of cleaning my contacts with saliva (yeah, gross, but occasionally necessary). So it’s not all glaciers and pastries here in Switzerland.

We take most of our echte Europeanische Frühstück on the balcony, but it was raining this morning.  Maya took the rain as an opportunity for creativity.  Presto – a picnic breakfast, indoor style!