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!
