Friday, June 19, 2009
The Alps Are Gorge-ous

It's a wonderful experience traveling to a new continent, touring famous cities and experiencing other cultures. But the fun of mastering a new currency, subway system, and city map every few days can be a little exhausting. How nice it is that we now find ourselves up in Gimmelwald, a sleepy town of 130 tough souls. Tucked up at an altitude of 1320 meters in the mountainous Bernese Oberland region of Switzerland, the only map one really needs is for the hiking trails. There are no thieves to worry about, and with only one street in town, there isn't much chance of getting lost around here. No bike lanes, no buses, no streetcars to dodge. There are no lockers for our bags and no keys for the doors. From the moment one exits the aerial tram, things are just a little more relaxed than before. I didn't realize how nice it would be to come up to a place like Gimmelwald and just lay around for a few days, but it has been a good break from the big metropolises we've been romping around for weeks.

We woke up around 11 yesterday, not getting much of the early start we had hoped for. No worries, since the sun stays up so late around here. We bought some bread and cheese and sausage from the town store, which is little more than a staircase with items stacked on one side and a friendly cashier at the top. All the food is produced in town, including the cattle that became the sausage, which is a little creepy and a little cool at the same time.


We had talked to a few different people staying in our hostel about hikes to take. We knew the weather forecast was for sun all day, so we planned to hike for between six and eight hours. The route we chose would take us along a river, all the way up the valley to a bunch of waterfalls where the river begins. We would then retrace our steps, walk up the side of the mountain to a few small towns, trek across high meadows above the tree line to a small peak called Bryndli, and then descend back through the forest to Gimmelwald.

We were on our way by 1, loaded down with water, snacks, rain gear and our cameras. I had several layers of sunblock on already, and was up for a challenge. Annoyingly enough, the road out of town heads downhill for about a kilometer, which is bothersome since I knew we would just have to regain that altitude later. Eventually the gravel road ended and became a proper trail, covered with rocks, tree roots, and countless muddy foot prints. A fun aspect of hiking in these lands is that they also serve as the high grazing territories for the town cattle, and there are cowpies literally everywhere to prove it (including stuck to the bottom of my shoes). The distant ringing of cowbells is an almost constant sound. I had to resist the urge to make Christopher Walken jokes the entire time. Occasionally we would come across a dozen just sitting around somewhere, inevitably chewing something. They just stare and occasionally moo, and then we would move on. There's nothing terribly exciting about cows, but finding them in this striking landscape was a little amusing to me. I won't attempt to get all poetic in describing the scenery, as the pictures really do a better job than I, even though they also don't really do it much justice.


When we reached the end of the trail, we found ourselves in a huge meadow with, you guessed it, more cows. There were dozens of different, very well fertilized wildflowers all around. The gray rock of the valley walls rose sharply all around, and there were several waterfalls rushing to join one another, presumably as the river that had cut this valley over the course of millions of years. We spent a few moments snapping photos before heading back to the trail fork, where we would begin a more serious ascent. On our way down, I was leading the group when I startled and almost stomped right on a snake that was laying in the trail, which we later found out was the moderately poisonous Common Viper, found all across Europe. It slithered away rather quickly, but I was definitely a little bit frightened. I really am not a fan of snakes!

When we reached the fork, we had been out for almost two hours and we were hot and thirsty. Everytime I took out my water bottle, I made sure to count my sips, taking no more than five to ensure that I could make my one liter last as long as possible. I was a little annoyed at my companions for not being more conservative with their own water supply, when I realized that both had about a quarter liter left with many more hours of hiking still to go. Had they run out, we would have had no choice but to cut our day short and head back, since the risk of dehydration in the blistering 85 degree sun is just too great. At one point they asked me what I thought about them drinking from one of the raging mountain streams. I am not familiar with the Alps, but in the Rockies this is something one would never want to do, since the water is contaminated by bacteria from cattle upstream. Knowing the large cattle population up here, I insisted that the possibility of contracting a Swiss variant of Montezuma's Revenge would definitely not be worth the temporary satisfaction of being hydrated. For all I know, the water could have been fine, but thankfully they took my advice anyway.


We clamored up hill after steep hill, wondering when we would find the next tiny town that was shown on the map. The trails are well marked but are measured in time rather than distance. We began to believe the quoted times must have been acheived by some Swiss Olympic gold medalist, when we would take twice as long as the times posted. We eventually came across a trough of water placed out in the forest, presumably for the cows. It was fed by a trickle of water coming out of a black rubber hose. The other end of the hose disappeared suspiciously into the ground with little indication of its potability for human consumption. Alex and Marc filled their bottles from it anyway. Thankfully nobody has keeled over yet.

The trail was rather steep and we hadn't seen any people for some time. The sun was hot and, although Alex and Marc were more or less content to continue following me up the trail with little complaint, I did feel the need to go a little motivational speaker on them once or twice. At 3:30, we decided that we should set a time limit at which we would begin to walk back. It was decided that at 4:30, we would turn around.


On one stretch, I motored away from Alex and Marc a little, and as I walked up the trail, I began to see the top of a faucet over the crest of the hill. As I walked closer, I realized the faucet was running and filling up a huge open tub. It could have been a bathtub or a cattle trough but I was never so happy to see running water from a faucet before. I still had half the liter I had brought with me, keeping it in case we never found more and I had to share. Now that we had a limitless supply, I chugged the entire contents of my bottle and had a seat on the ground. It was 4:27. When my companions caught up, they too were pretty delighted by our find.

The fountain was in a small town of five or so wooden buildings, up some 1,930 meters above sea level. We had gained about 700 vertical meters, or almost half a mile, in only about three hours. The only people we saw up there were three rough looking guys leading cattle into a barn. They smiled and waved at us. I can't imagine what life must be like up there, but the word rustic certainly comes to mind.


After some trail mix and a little more water, we took some pictures and headed off in a different direction from where we came, in hopes that we would catch some fresh scenery on our way back down. We were not disappointed. The trail back to town took us about three hours and traversed the side of the mountain, with fabulous views of the valley. Wildflowers were everywhere and the sun had become less intense. We finally descended down into a pine forest, where the sound of waterfalls intensified and we began to see more people.

It was only seven when we made it out of the forest, and after that it was just a few more switchbacks down to our hostel. We were all exhausted but rather satisfied when we finally plopped down on the wooden bench in front of the hostel. It had just started to rain and I felt glad we had just missed it. A few minutes later the sun started to come out, and we were subsequently presented with what I believe was one of the most perfect rainbows anybody has ever witnessed. It was low in the sky, seemingly close enough to touch, and completely visible end to end. With the misty sky and a backdrop of alpine waterfalls, it seemed like something out of a Skittles commercial. Everybody took pictures and smiled.


After showering, we put together a carb-heavy dinner of pasta and bolognese sauce that sent all three of us into food comas. We spent the remainder of the evening socializing with the diverse array of backpackers at our hostel while sipping tasty hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps, a surprisingly delicious beverage.

Today has been pretty much a washout, or should I say a whiteout. Looking out the window, all I can see are raindrops falling on the picnic tables in front of the hostel. Everything else is in my field of view is completely white, like we are in a cloud in some fairy tale land. I don't really mind though. Needless to say, Gimmelwald is a cool place regardless of the weather. In a few hours, we will take the cable car back down to Stechelberg, catch a bus to Lauretbrunnen, and hop on a train back to Interlaken. From there, we will take another train back to Bern, where we catch a night train that will take us to Barcelona. We arrive around 9:30 in the morning, at which point our big city fun resumes!
posted by Michael at 4:13 AM -
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