On Thursday Sept. 23rd, I went to my evening French class with a packed backpack. My French professor offered a ride to the train station, but I declined not wanting to impose. "I go right by there on my way home." I accepted her offer and we drove by my tripmates waiting at the bus stop and I invited them in. We boarded a 9 something train to Basel, Switzerland. I had hoped to nap on this leg, seeing as our 5 hour layover in Basel would take a chunk out of potential sleep time, Sohail, Phil and I played cards instead. Phil had done a little research on Basel and found a bar open till 5 AM. We were joined by an Irishman who was loitering at the station, rather than listen sleeplessly to his snoring hostelmates. The tourist sections of the city were eerily quiet - I half expected zombies to stumble out from the cathedral. We stopped for a kebab and discovered how expensive the food would be in Switzerland. It was a good kebab, but we made a pact to cook our own food for the rest of the weekend if possible. Eventually we found the bar marked by the red lights of the brothel above. The bar was classy enough, and we nursed our beers for an hour and a half. The highlight was the appearance of a middle-aged German-speaking Russian man with some heavy hardware in place of his teeth. He sat down with us, but spoke only German. The language barrier was absurd, but he taught me to count to ten in German, attempted to learn to count in English, indicated he was an expert marksman, and expressed some negative views on the war in Iraq, to which I was about to counter with Russia's prior engagements there, but thought better considering he was an expert marksman who had been drinking. We left the bar around 4, headed back to the train station and had plenty of time before our 530 departure for Interlaken.
Interlaken is a European extreme sports and outdoors mecca. An online search for the small Swiss city will bring up results for Paragliding, Hang Gliding, Skydiving and many more heart-pumping activities. For most, though, Interlaken is a waypoint to the lofty snow-capped Junfrau mountain range in Swiss Alps. We stocked up on some groceries in Interlaken and continued by train, bus, and cable car to Gimmelwald, a town a few hundred meters up a sheer cliff above the Lauterbrunnen valley. Map>> The cable car continues up to the Schilthorn peak, a ride costing around __ euros roundtrip. We thought we were being sneaky by continuing to ride up past Gimmelwald, but we were forced out at Mürren, where we locked up our heavier belongings and packed light clothes, cameras, PB&J and Toblerone. With a collective 5 hours of sleep among us, we set out on the 10-hour hike, to the Schilthorn peak, which, as we were informed by excessive signage, was the site of the James Bond film Her Majesty's Secret Service. The hike took around 5 hours, but could have been quicker considering my friends, avid photographers, seemed to pause to take a picture for every step up the mountain. The scenes were breathtaking and made my digital camera seem inadequate especially having reviewed the photos. I went to Interlaken with my family in 2002, but it was foggy all three days, and I wished I had been able to see the landscape. On this Friday, it was crystal clear, and every hundred yards up the mountain, a new vista opened up. The summit, however, never seemed to get closer, even when we were only separated by a 200 m stretch of steep rock.
My most vivid memory of the climb was the sounds. Cow bells rang, birds chirped, the wind whistled, and the occasional helicopter flew overhead, but it was generally very calm and peaceful. On the trip down, we figured out that the mountain was a phenomenal echo chamber. With a good high-pitched shriek or better yet, a yodel, we could listen to ourselves for nearly 10 seconds.
Sohail and Phil early in the hike
Me near the top
Artistic?
Top of the Schilthorn - Me and the famous restaurant
And video of course
Finally we made it to the top of the Schilthorn and took advantage of the 360 degree deck for photos. We checked out the secret lair of the Bond villain - the restaurant and made some PB&J sandwiches. After a moment of indecision about how to get down, we decided on a new route that, at 3 hours 30 minutes according to a signpost, would put us in Murren around 8 pm, possibly less if we hurried. Hurry we did, first traversing for a while, then bouncing endlessly down a path that switchbacked every 5 yards. It was tough going compared with the hike up, which had been 2/3rds gravel paths. Three hours into our trip down we reached a sign that said an hour and a half to Murren. There was an hour of daylight left and we had an hour and a half to go according to the sign which assumed nepali sherpa pace. We started to run down the hill, pushing the pace as fast as we could while we could still see. Eventually it got dark and we slowed down, and eventually it became pitch-black and we still hadn't reached Mürren. It was difficult to stay on the path, and eventually Sohail brought out his Iphone and used it for a flashlight. We moved carefully in a tight formation and were eventually spat out onto a paved road with Mürren's lamps in the distance. It had taken us longer to get down than up. The cable car was still running when we stumbled exhausted and relieved into the Mürren station. The hostel had a great atmosphere, with college-age kids drinking, singing songs, and playing cards, but we were too tired to partake. In fact we were too tired to shower, cook dinner, or move, and it took an hour to get the process started.
One of many misleading signposts - Note: Mürren 3 hours 30 min.
As the sun began to set behind us, we were still pretty far up the mountain.
The next morning we cooked pancakes and left at the mandatory 930 lockout time, with baggy eyes that begged for more sleep. I told my friends about a path to nearby Grütschalp, which was a flat walk with a view, and they agreed to follow. We stopped at a small cheese shop/factory that had brought a huge smile to my dad's face in 2002 when we happened to walk by on that trip. There, Phil and I split a liter of fresh milk, which was delicious. The walk again way exceeded the 1 hour rating on the hiking signpost, but at least it was flat. In Grutschalp we took a cable-car down to Lauterbrunnen, and then headed up the other side of the valley to Wengen, the site of a world-cup downhill where Bode Miller tends to pick up some hardware.
Farmhouse between Mürren and Grütschalp
Grütschalp Cable Car Station - Wengen is the village visible on the opposite side of the valley
Wengen is a beautiful town, that, I told Sohail, is car-less. In the next few minutes, no less than 10 cars, some electric some gasoline-fueled, drove by, despite the city's no-auto claim. There was a great view of the valley from near Wengen's church, but Saturday was pretty hazy, and the mountains were obscured.
View from Grindelwald train stop
We took a brief walk above the city, but went to sleep early because we needed to be up early to go to Interlaken for CANYONING!
What is canyoning? It's hiking down a canyon with a river flowing through it by any means necessary - rappel, slide, and jump. We left from Interlaken, drove 40 minutes along some unbelievably beautiful blue-green lakes, to the canyon. The company supplied us with a wetsuit, helmet, rappel harness, booties, life-jacket (pretty torn up, definitely not US Coast guard approved) and two friendly New Zealander guides, Rich and Koren. They led us into the woods and brought us into the canyon where we started off with a 30 foot jump into a narrow cylindrical pool with very little room for error. We were essentially jumping off a small waterfall, landing next to the falling water. "Can I land in the white water," I asked thinking the frothy area would be the softest, surest landing spot. "If you land in the white water, you will break you legs, jump a little to the right," Koren said to matter-of-fact for my liking. I assured myself that a lot of people do this without dying, and jumped landing successfully in the little pool. From then on, we had, more jumps, a bunch of massive natural waterslides where you slide on rock, and some rappells down waterfalls, where the guides dropped us swiftly through the pounding waters. The slides had some telling names: spaghetti slide, banzai slide, and guy slide among them. There was even a slide where you had to jump across some water and land in the slide, which took some commitment. Another of the slides required you to cover your face with your arms to avoid busting a tooth.
The guy slide was intense. Koren described it as a torpedo launching. If you started from the very top, you would have too much speed and hit rock at the bottom of the landing pool. I used a rope to lower myself down about fifteen feet, through some raging water, and let go, to slide down the rest of the 40 or so feet.
Later on there was a 20 foot jump that we tried some flips on. I'd never even done a flip into a pool before, but I'd just done some other crazy stuff, so I figured why not, and did pretty well. Others tried successful backflips, but Phil didn't quite commit on his attempt. He landed in a beautiful upside down pike position, with his head at his knees, which would have hurt him pretty bad without the wetsuit and protective gear. We had a good laugh about it.
There were some situations where bad footing or lack of attention could have caused some long falls. We even clipped into a rope to traverse one particularly exposed part. Sohail didn't get the message, and was walking casually along, unhooked next to a forty-foot potentially fatal drop. Someone yelled out to him to clip in, so he turned around walked all the way back up the narrow rock and then clipped in. I was nervous even when I was safety-latched - I don't know how he wasn't scared. On that particular rock, we had a special knot tied through our harness - we had to hold two pieces of line in one hand and once we had been lowered part way, the guide told us to let go and the knot undid itself and dropped us in the water. It was pretty nerve-racking to feel the line slip a little in my hands as it began to bear my weight.
All in all, canyoning was pretty incredible - definitely not for people with heart problems because mine was racing the whole time. I do wish they had a bigger jump. There may have been some, but at this time of year, not much glacial melt is flowing, so some of the pools are less full, limiting the safe height for jumps. I was looking forward to a jump that would make me cry a little or at least have some serious second thoughts.
We were all really happy with the way the weekend turned out. It had been forecasted to rain Saturday and Sunday, but we only felt a drop or two and had plenty of sunshine for our Friday hike. I even bought sunscreen - the most expensive tube by volume I have ever seen nevermind bought. Check it out http://www.pizbuin.com/. The front page says it all.
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