In which I become a member of a social club

There is an ancient riddle that goes something like: What starts off on two legs, then four, then three, occasionally one leg, then finally two again? The answer, of course, is: me, on my first trip with the Club Alpin Suisse!

The way it works is such: Friday nights are meeting nights -- you go to the club headquarters (they own an entire fricking building in the city center) and there are bulletin boards where you can sign up for the various upcoming activities. All the people doing a specific activity gather around a table and talk about the logistics of the event. As this was my first meeting, I wasn't really clear on how one should act, but I signed up for the only event that weekend that wasn't completely full, grabbed a beer from the bar, and chatted with people while I waited for my meeting.

The guy leading my hike was about 60 years old and had the look of an aging player: shoulder length wavy gray hair and a square jaw. Of course, these expectations were pretty much shattered as soon as he opened his mouth and started talking: he had the thickest Vaudois accent I have ever heard and he had a habit of making the lamest, corniest jokes whenever possible. He was pretty cool.

Fig. 1: One of the leaders, Robert, whose thick, luxuriant tresses are hidden behind an (equally cool) headband. I note here that I was going to bring my bandanna with me on the hike -- I owe Christine for this bit of backpacking wisdom -- but I was afraid that people would think I was weird. It turned out, of course, that nearly half the people had bandannas so instead I got a lesson on the importance of trusting your instincts and being yourself.

After talking about where we would meet, how long it would be, what to expect, he told us that we all needed to bring a piolet with us. Having never heard the word, I looked it up in my dictionary and found out that it means "ice axe." I asked him why we needed it; were we planning on climbing any glaciers? No, he said, not to worry. It was just that on occasion we would be off trail and we might need it (or walking poles) as a support for some of the steeper descents. The older lady sitting next to me told me that she would bring me an extra one, so I wouldn't have to waste money renting one. My first friend!

We met at the train station at La Conversion on Sunday morning (out of 19 people, I was the only person who arrived by train, I note) and carpooled from there. We headed out to the small town of Jaun, in Fribourg -- which is just on the other side of the famous Rostigraben -- and after a little stroll through town, we were soon on the trail.

Fig. 2: A "typique jardin" in Jaun. My suisse-romande companions tried to convince me that garden gnomes were very popular in the German parts of Switzerland. Possibly this is true, but I think this incredibly intricate garden/village is anything but "typique."

In total, there were 19 of us on the hike, so it was quite a large group. It was fairly evenly divided between men and women and also between people much older than me (a couple around 70) and people roughly my age. Although one woman claimed to be Quebecoise, as far as I could tell no one spoke any English. Or, at least, no one would admit to speaking any English. Thus, I spent the entire day doing my very best to work on my French. As tough as the hike was, this was probably the most challenging aspect. After a little while, though, I felt pretty confident striking up conversations with people and I think I even made a couple of friends.

Fig. 3: My hiking buddies.

At this point, I admit, I didn't really know exactly where we were going, how long it would take, or how difficult it would be. I trusted that the leaders knew what they were doing and further that I would have no problem with whatever terrain we encountered as this hike was described as randonée (hiking) not alpinism (climbing). So, I just followed along, chatting with people, and trying to walk at a pace to keep myself in roughly the middle of the group. The hike started out easily enough and after a couple hours, we had made a fairly strenuous ascent up a grass-covered valley.

Fig. 4: As you can tell from the telltale U-shape, this valley was carved by an ancient glacier. Even though it's June, there was still a bit of snow at fairly low altitudes.

At about this point, I remember looking around in front of us and trying to find the trail. As the valley walls became increasingly steep, I thought that we must be heading for some pass or set of switchbacks that would allow us to ascend to the ridge line. Much to my surprise, though, after we stopped for a small snack and a bit of water the leaders just started heading directly straight up the hillside. At first, it wasn't too bad as it wasn't too steep and it is generally quite easy to head directly up something, no matter how steep it is. Unfortunately, there were frequently rocks and such in our way and we would have to skirt around them. This, to me, seemed pretty dangerous. The slope at this point was so steep that I was generally holding on with both hands and as there was no trail, you had to just put your feet down on a clump of grass and hope that it wouldn't slip. A couple of times I lost a foot and found myself hanging by two clumps of grass in my hands. I have no idea how the septuagenarians made it. After an exhausting climb, we finally reached the crest.

Fig. 5: Hiking along the crest. Portions of it were so extremely narrow and steep on both sides that the ice axe was needed for balance.

The views were incredibly on both sides and the weather was great, if a bit windy. From this point, we followed the (occasionally extremely narrow) crest along a set of small peaks. I felt like there were a lot of moments were had I made a misstep, I would be in serious trouble. For those of you who have gone running or hiking with me before, you know that my style is what I describe as "gazelle-like" -- I may slip, but I never fall. Unfortunately, gazelles aren't particularly common on the top of mountain crests and I pretty quickly saw why. By focusing on where I was placing each foot and progressing fairly slowly, I was able to make my style more "chamois-like" and I managed to make it across OK.

Fig. 6: A small peak along the crest. Don't let that line in the grass fool you, there wasn't a real trail to be found for miles.

Fig. 7: The final ascent to Scharfberg. The slope you see is pretty indicative of what the climb was like for about the last 3 hours of the ascent.

After a short jaunt along the crest, we eventually hit the target of our expedition: Scharfberg. Although not a particularly popular hiking destination (the much more popular Kaiseregg is just across the valley), it was still incredibly scenic, with breathtaking views in nearly every direction. Although I chose this particular hike pretty much at random, I have to say that it turned out to be just about perfect: challenging, fun, and something I would have never found on my own.

The descent, by the way, was brutal. As it was incredibly steep, I had to use the piolet and even then I was frequently punished for my gazelle-like missteps. After we finally hit a trail, it became a bit better, but bearable and by the time we dropped back down to the valley it was smooth sailing. Halfway down, we stopped at a restaurant, had a drink, and then found out that Federer was up 2 sets to none and cruising to victory in the French Open. A great day all around for Switzerland!

Fig. 7: Me, maybe some mountains or something in the background.

So, when will my next adventure with the Club be? Who can say. The parents are in town right now and we will be going to France for a little vacation, so probably not until July. For those of you interested in visiting, one of the awesome perks of being a member is that I get access to a huge library of maps, books, and guides as well as a discount for staying overnight at cabins owned by the Club located deep in the Alps. Hiking to these cabins means that you can do an overnight hike with only a small pack, which is a great way to spend a weekend.

Next update: silly picture review!