Mountains beyond mountains
Hola amigos, I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya ... and no excuses. Things have indeed been pretty busy around here, but really the main reason I haven't made any updates to the blog is just plain laziness. Not a whole lot to say, really. And, you know how it is: put it off for a little while; then you start feeling bad that you didn't do it when you should have; which makes you not want to do it; which makes you put it off some more; which makes you feel even worse; etc. Kinda like bathing. Anyhow, it is starting to look like my days in la Suisse may be numbered, so I figured I should sort of empty the metaphorical hopper of all the stuff I haven't posted yet just so that it will be there for all. Seeing as how I talk to most of my "readership" personally (Hi Mom), most of you have probably heard of or seen a lot of this, so you'll have to wait for even later updates for some new info.
The Jura, redux
No other place on earth offers more and better mountain adventures than Switzerland. In the summer time, the possibilities are nearly endless. As I was pretty sure going in that this would be my last summer here, I figured I should try my best to get out as early and as often as possible. By May, the nearby Jura Mountains were mostly snow and mud-free, so I started there.
For my first hike of the season, I re-did my first hike in Switzerland -- I went from the Gorge de la Poëta Raisse to the beautiful Creux du Van, near Neuchatel. The hike was much the same as before, sans the getting lost, except there were a couple of surprises. First, the above tree. It is, as the plaque indicates, the Tree of the Two Liars. If you search for the phrase in French on google (with quotes), it will not return a single hit. Searches for the translated phrase in English were not much better. So, then, what is the deal with this tree? I have no clue. I figure, though, that by posting something online at least I will be establishing some sort of trail which eventually might lead to some info. There was a farmhouse somewhat nearby, but no one was home when I went past so I could not get any local info to help me out, either. And, no, the tree isn't special in any way -- it looks just like any other tree, outside of the plaque. Maybe the internet will eventually come up with an answer.
One more exciting thing from this hike was that --unlike last trip -- I got to see some of the famous chamois of the region. Chamois used to be native to the region, but industrialization and increased population wiped them out a while ago. They were artificially reintroduced at some point and have since thrived in their reclaimed homeland. More known in the US for their soft, smooth leather (shammy), these guys are protected by law and will not ever be used to polish expensive cars.
Chartreuse
The next hiking trip I went on (or, at least the next one I can find good pictures of) was to the Chartreuse region, near Grenoble. After meeting Loren in Grenoble, we hopped on a bus and headed into the wilderness to spend then day hiking, then camping out in the wild. Unlike in Switzerland, where tent camping is illegal throughout, in France one is allowed to make temporary camps (bivouacs) as long as you have packed everything up in the morning. As we were only planning on staying one night, this was just fine with us.
The Chartreuse region is made out of soft limestone and over the millennia, rainwater has carved it out leaving a bunch of caves, cliffs and other exciting features. The views off of the top were absolutely incredible, and the heavily carved nature of the rock meant that there were just tons of unusual things.
Zinal Glacier
Even more mountains! As I have mentioned before on this blog (somewhere, I'm sure), the mountains here are peppered with cabins that are run by the Swiss Alpine Club that you can stay at for a very reasonable price. So, instead of camping out in tents, if you want to do an overnight or multi-day hike in Switzerland, you generally end up staying in one of these mountain huts or cabins. The cabins are staffed during the summer hiking season and the winter skiing season and they offer a really nice dinner, breakfast, and the company of other people. Although it seemingly rained all August, toward the end there was one weekend that was nearly perfect. I got on the train, then took a (totally packed) bus out to Zinal, which is quite literally the very furthest east outpost of French speakers in the country. It is well into the alps and a great jumping off point for a bunch of different hikes. I decided to head to the Zinal Glacier and to stay at the Cabane du Grand Mountet nearby.
Not to sound like a broken record, but it was an incredible hike. The trail was really, really tough (the ascent was more than 4000 ft over about 8 miles) but the valley that it ascended was incredible and the view of the glacier at the end was definitely worth it.
The Berner Oberland
The most famous hiking region of Switzerland is definitely the Berner Oberland. Basically, a couple of valleys and a bunch of famous mountains (Eiger, Monch, Jungfrau) near Interlaken, it is the definition of "post-card Switzerland." The area is extremely popular with Japanese tourists (I read somewhere that at roughly any given time in the summer more than 25% of the people in Interlaken are Japanese) and now Indians (who come to enjoy the alpine scenery that features prominently in many Bollywood films). Thanks to the influx of tourists, there are an incredible number of trains, lifts, and gondolas that will take you up to some incredible viewpoints (including the Jungfraujoch, the highest train station in Europe). Of course, thanks to the influx of tourists, these trains are ridiculously expensive. As they are also at least two connections away from Lausanne, it's also a bit of a pain to get there, so until this summer I had never really been in the area.
Fortunately, though, Migros (the supermarket) was running a little sticker-collecting promotion that allowed you to get certain tourist train tickets two for the price of one. Jens, officemate extraordinaire, and I decided to take this opportunity to head out to the Berner Oberland and to hike the Faulhornweg, allegedly the most awe-inspiring and beautiful hike in all of Switzerland (so says Rick Steves and two other guide books I own).
As you can see, the views were incredible! I wish I had a picture with at least a hint of a mountain or two, but we literally could not see a single peak all hike. The layer of clouds and fog was so thick that the temperature difference at the top of the hike and the bottom was like 30 degrees (maybe 40 on the top and about 70 in the valley). So, this was about the best picture we got all day. Well, at least it was good exercise.
Via Ferrata at Jaegihorn
A via ferrata is a climbing route that has been set up with a permanently fixed metal cable running the entire length. Climbers wear a normal climbing harness equipped with two special ropes (called longes in French) that are attached to the cable to catch the climber if he/she falls. In addition to the cable, there are also (generally) numerous metal supports, brackets, rungs, and bolts that have been attached to the route to help climbers through difficult patches. The idea is that the routes are sort of an intermediate difficulty between normal hiking and real climbing. Although I really do not have the upper-body strength for real climbing, I figured that a via ferrata would be a fun challenge so I decided to go along with my friend David on a trip he organized.
Although I definitely had some idea before I left, I guess I really didn't realize just how difficult the trip would be. At first, you climb along the rocks, holding onto little handles, putting your feet into cracks, and generally feeling like a badass mountain man. Then, the holds get smaller, the climb gets more vertical, and you have to start really thinking about where to put your hand next. After a while, though, you figure out how things work and it becomes fairly routine. Then, we hit this:
It is hard for the picture to do justice, but this suspension bridge (which is two cables wide) is really high up (328 ft up) and really long (295 ft long). The safety ropes really help with balance (having one above your head puts you in a naturally balanced position) but the length combined with the high wind made it very, very tense. Of course, I knew about the bridge ahead of time and figured that although it would be tough that I could make it without incident. I was right, but what I didn't know about was what was after the bridge.
It is really difficult to see in the photo, but after the bridge was a monkey net -- which was difficult to climb and tiring -- and then a sheer vertical wall. Although most via ferratas have lots of iron rungs bolted into the wall, this one was apparently set for a much greater difficulty and there was very little aid. At times, you would find yourself resting on a single half-inch bold that had been drilled into the wall, staring down to the rocks, hundreds of feet below you. Of course, nearly everyone else who went had a lot of (real) climbing experience, so I got a lot of help and advice in terms of where to put my hands and feet which really made the whole thing a lot more doable. In the end, I was really proud of myself for making it to the top and I definitely got a taste for more via ferrata in the future.
OK. That's all for now. But, I definitely promise more updates to follow. Maybe not soon, but soon enough. Thanks for your patience.
The Jura, redux
No other place on earth offers more and better mountain adventures than Switzerland. In the summer time, the possibilities are nearly endless. As I was pretty sure going in that this would be my last summer here, I figured I should try my best to get out as early and as often as possible. By May, the nearby Jura Mountains were mostly snow and mud-free, so I started there.
Fig. 1: L'arbre des 2 menteurs, the "tree of the two liars," near the Creux du Van.
For my first hike of the season, I re-did my first hike in Switzerland -- I went from the Gorge de la Poëta Raisse to the beautiful Creux du Van, near Neuchatel. The hike was much the same as before, sans the getting lost, except there were a couple of surprises. First, the above tree. It is, as the plaque indicates, the Tree of the Two Liars. If you search for the phrase in French on google (with quotes), it will not return a single hit. Searches for the translated phrase in English were not much better. So, then, what is the deal with this tree? I have no clue. I figure, though, that by posting something online at least I will be establishing some sort of trail which eventually might lead to some info. There was a farmhouse somewhat nearby, but no one was home when I went past so I could not get any local info to help me out, either. And, no, the tree isn't special in any way -- it looks just like any other tree, outside of the plaque. Maybe the internet will eventually come up with an answer.
Fig. 2: ShamWow! The reintroduced chamois have absolutely no fear of people as they are a protected species. These guys -- massive, pointy horns and all -- had no problem wandering around me while I hiked by.
One more exciting thing from this hike was that --unlike last trip -- I got to see some of the famous chamois of the region. Chamois used to be native to the region, but industrialization and increased population wiped them out a while ago. They were artificially reintroduced at some point and have since thrived in their reclaimed homeland. More known in the US for their soft, smooth leather (shammy), these guys are protected by law and will not ever be used to polish expensive cars.
Chartreuse
The next hiking trip I went on (or, at least the next one I can find good pictures of) was to the Chartreuse region, near Grenoble. After meeting Loren in Grenoble, we hopped on a bus and headed into the wilderness to spend then day hiking, then camping out in the wild. Unlike in Switzerland, where tent camping is illegal throughout, in France one is allowed to make temporary camps (bivouacs) as long as you have packed everything up in the morning. As we were only planning on staying one night, this was just fine with us.
Fig. 3: One of the many awesome limestone cliffs of Chartreuse.
The Chartreuse region is made out of soft limestone and over the millennia, rainwater has carved it out leaving a bunch of caves, cliffs and other exciting features. The views off of the top were absolutely incredible, and the heavily carved nature of the rock meant that there were just tons of unusual things.
Fig. 4: The Trou du Glas. Although it was the middle of the summer, there were huge pieces of ice inside this little cave and the water inside was icy cold and delicious.
Fig. 5: One of the more unusual things in Chartreuse.
Zinal Glacier
Even more mountains! As I have mentioned before on this blog (somewhere, I'm sure), the mountains here are peppered with cabins that are run by the Swiss Alpine Club that you can stay at for a very reasonable price. So, instead of camping out in tents, if you want to do an overnight or multi-day hike in Switzerland, you generally end up staying in one of these mountain huts or cabins. The cabins are staffed during the summer hiking season and the winter skiing season and they offer a really nice dinner, breakfast, and the company of other people. Although it seemingly rained all August, toward the end there was one weekend that was nearly perfect. I got on the train, then took a (totally packed) bus out to Zinal, which is quite literally the very furthest east outpost of French speakers in the country. It is well into the alps and a great jumping off point for a bunch of different hikes. I decided to head to the Zinal Glacier and to stay at the Cabane du Grand Mountet nearby.
Fig. 6: The Zinal Glacier.
Not to sound like a broken record, but it was an incredible hike. The trail was really, really tough (the ascent was more than 4000 ft over about 8 miles) but the valley that it ascended was incredible and the view of the glacier at the end was definitely worth it.
Fig. 7: The Cabane du Grand Mountet.
Fig. 8: At every cabin, they always have a bunch of slippers for you to wear inside. Usually, they are kinda old and not available in my size, but at the Cabane du Grand Mountet, it was first-class all the way. Check out these custom Swiss Alpine Club Crocs. I know that I've probably sworn that I would never wear Crocs, but I felt like I could make an exception this time.
Fig. 9: Near the Cabane du Grand Mountet. What kind of blog post would this be without a picture of a beautiful scenic landscape largely obscured by my head?
The Berner Oberland
The most famous hiking region of Switzerland is definitely the Berner Oberland. Basically, a couple of valleys and a bunch of famous mountains (Eiger, Monch, Jungfrau) near Interlaken, it is the definition of "post-card Switzerland." The area is extremely popular with Japanese tourists (I read somewhere that at roughly any given time in the summer more than 25% of the people in Interlaken are Japanese) and now Indians (who come to enjoy the alpine scenery that features prominently in many Bollywood films). Thanks to the influx of tourists, there are an incredible number of trains, lifts, and gondolas that will take you up to some incredible viewpoints (including the Jungfraujoch, the highest train station in Europe). Of course, thanks to the influx of tourists, these trains are ridiculously expensive. As they are also at least two connections away from Lausanne, it's also a bit of a pain to get there, so until this summer I had never really been in the area.
Fortunately, though, Migros (the supermarket) was running a little sticker-collecting promotion that allowed you to get certain tourist train tickets two for the price of one. Jens, officemate extraordinaire, and I decided to take this opportunity to head out to the Berner Oberland and to hike the Faulhornweg, allegedly the most awe-inspiring and beautiful hike in all of Switzerland (so says Rick Steves and two other guide books I own).
Fig. 10: Jens and Paul, looking good in the Berner Oberland.
As you can see, the views were incredible! I wish I had a picture with at least a hint of a mountain or two, but we literally could not see a single peak all hike. The layer of clouds and fog was so thick that the temperature difference at the top of the hike and the bottom was like 30 degrees (maybe 40 on the top and about 70 in the valley). So, this was about the best picture we got all day. Well, at least it was good exercise.
Fig. 11: We need more Bort license plates in the gift shop. I repeat, we are sold out of Bort License Plates.
Via Ferrata at Jaegihorn
A via ferrata is a climbing route that has been set up with a permanently fixed metal cable running the entire length. Climbers wear a normal climbing harness equipped with two special ropes (called longes in French) that are attached to the cable to catch the climber if he/she falls. In addition to the cable, there are also (generally) numerous metal supports, brackets, rungs, and bolts that have been attached to the route to help climbers through difficult patches. The idea is that the routes are sort of an intermediate difficulty between normal hiking and real climbing. Although I really do not have the upper-body strength for real climbing, I figured that a via ferrata would be a fun challenge so I decided to go along with my friend David on a trip he organized.
Fig. 12: Me (in the center) with part of the via ferrata posse. This shot shows a really flat and easy part of the route.
Although I definitely had some idea before I left, I guess I really didn't realize just how difficult the trip would be. At first, you climb along the rocks, holding onto little handles, putting your feet into cracks, and generally feeling like a badass mountain man. Then, the holds get smaller, the climb gets more vertical, and you have to start really thinking about where to put your hand next. After a while, though, you figure out how things work and it becomes fairly routine. Then, we hit this:
Fig. 13: The infamous cable bridge of the Jaegihorn Via Ferrata. Probably not a lot of fun for those who are sensitive to vertigo, but with all the safety cables, it wasn't that bad.
It is hard for the picture to do justice, but this suspension bridge (which is two cables wide) is really high up (328 ft up) and really long (295 ft long). The safety ropes really help with balance (having one above your head puts you in a naturally balanced position) but the length combined with the high wind made it very, very tense. Of course, I knew about the bridge ahead of time and figured that although it would be tough that I could make it without incident. I was right, but what I didn't know about was what was after the bridge.
Fig. 14: The bridge and monkey net.
It is really difficult to see in the photo, but after the bridge was a monkey net -- which was difficult to climb and tiring -- and then a sheer vertical wall. Although most via ferratas have lots of iron rungs bolted into the wall, this one was apparently set for a much greater difficulty and there was very little aid. At times, you would find yourself resting on a single half-inch bold that had been drilled into the wall, staring down to the rocks, hundreds of feet below you. Of course, nearly everyone else who went had a lot of (real) climbing experience, so I got a lot of help and advice in terms of where to put my hands and feet which really made the whole thing a lot more doable. In the end, I was really proud of myself for making it to the top and I definitely got a taste for more via ferrata in the future.
Fig. 15: This is some sort of mountain goat. Everyone had a theory about what type it was and what it was called in German or English, but none of us were really sure.
OK. That's all for now. But, I definitely promise more updates to follow. Maybe not soon, but soon enough. Thanks for your patience.
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