The Greater the Hike, the Greater the Reward: Day 6, Switzerland
I expected to get up and do my own thing this morning, as Chyanne and Maddie bravely took on the Via Ferrata, but as I climbed down my bed to start getting ready for the day myself, Maddie informed me there were no more spots available for them. Pivoting, they decided to join me on my panorama hike from Männlichen to Kleine Scheidegg. We had breakfast at the hostel, a lovely buffet of cheese, ham, fresh bread, a variety of jams and jellies, yogurt, and apples (which I grabbed for a snack later).
After washing our dishes and packing our day bags, we eagerly stepped out to greet the gorgeous view we had met last night, this time in the crisp morning light. It was breathtaking — stunning (literally). I felt my body freeze in awe, as if it were involuntarily forcing me to stop and take it all in. The sky was clear now, and you could see the full magnitude of the mountains, every peak and crevice — their entire bodies now, unabashedly, on display. Our eyes upgraded to UltraHD, and we were, again, swallowed by the enormous rocks that surrounded us. Pictures truly don’t do it justice; At least, not the ones I take.
It was a bit chilly this morning in the mountains — a coat was necessary, hat and mittens a close second. I certainly layered up, not knowing what to expect. Aside from the items listed above, I had layered my grey knit sweater, a lighter sweatshirt, a t-shirt, a double layer of pants that included leggings and looser hiking pants to protect from the cool wind, wool socks, and a long sleeve shirt tucked away in my backpack just in case.
We just missed our Gondola down to Stechelberg, which runs every half an hour, so we had some time to kill before the next one. We decided to hike up the village to explore the sights in the daylight, which included lots of flowers and a 3D wood carving of a man with a pipe in his cabin. I quickly realized all my layers weren’t necessary and went back and forth between being hot and cold, trying to find the right pairing of layers — the jacket and grey sweater too warm, the lighter sweatshirt alone too chilly, and at times just a t-shirt was warm enough given the heat of my body hiking up the hills.
After the gondola ride down the mountain, where I befriended a dog (her nose perched on my knee for pets the entire time), we took the bus back to Laughterbrunnen, then a train to Wengen, where we would take another gondola up to Männlichen, the starting point of our hike. In Wengen, we were a little confused about where to go, so we popped into a tourist info building for help. We didn’t have to reach the counter before we saw a paper sign that read “Männlichen/Panorama trail closed.” Considering the cost of train tickets to get here, it was quite the buzzkill, but we tried to stay positive. We waited our turn at the help desk to confirm that the trail was indeed closed (due to weather and the ice it left from the night before), but the friendly agent presented us with some maps and a few alternative routes.
After debating logistics, we settled on a paved path that started from Wengen and would end with a bench and “The Sound of Music” looking view of the deep Lauterbrunnen mountain valley below. The trail curved in and out of houses, through patches of forest with a bridge and a stream, and uphill around the mountainside. All the while, I was still fighting my layers. The view was rewarding, and the bench was a relief as the hike was a bit more demanding and steeper than expected.
After resting and more debate, we decided to take the trail that leads down the mountain to Lauterbraunnen, instead of hiking back to town and paying for another train back, a small retribution, we agreed, for our failed mission. Meanwhile, we would figure out what to do for the rest of the day.
The hike down was breathtaking. It was a long hike, especially given the signs that told us only 10 more km at least three different times, and I was reminded how much more effort it takes to go downhill. But every wind and turn gave us another breathtaking and slightly different perspective of the mountain valley and infamous waterfalls that seemed to be spouting out of the mountain sides as if the mountains themselves were ready to burst. One turn offered a view through the rising pine trees, another overlooked the bright green pasture before us. As we declined in elevation, other perspectives offered views of the village with brown-trimmed white stucco homes, almost all containing colorful flower beds in their windows.
We were grateful, sore, and sweaty when we reached the train station over an hour later. By mid-hike, we had decided on a couple of things: today we would race to Kandersteg to conquer the Oeschinensee Lake hike before nightfall (a good 2-3 hours away), and tomorrow…we would paraglide. Since I already coward out of the Via Feratta (something I am in no way ashamed of), and feeling adventurous (a side effect of mountain trekking and stunning views), I told myself I could handle jumping off the side of a mountain, as long as I was attached to a professional. After booking nonrefundable tickets, there was no turning back — but that was tomorrow’s problem. Today, we were losing daylight, and it would take us two hours to get to the Oeshinensee hike and another three hours to hike to the lake and back. We fed on train station sandwiches and coffee for some much-needed energy, and after two long train rides, we made it to the town of Kandersteg, where we would begin the hike.
It was a hike to the hike, across a shadeless field and up a long and steep gravel path. We had to take a break at the top, where the entrance to the hike began, before we even started. We were all quietly concerned about our physical abilities as Chyanne and I battled heart palpitations, and all of us struggled to catch our breath. The hike reminded me of a cooler, snow-capped, mountainous version of the red, hot, and dusty Zion National Park canyons. The winding path up the mountain was a mental feat as much as it was physical. The views were a welcome excuse to pause as we pushed ourselves up each zig and zag, and they only got better the closer we got to the lake. The higher we climbed, the more out-of-this-world we felt. The mountains grew taller and wider with each step we took, and when we reached the lake, the rocky canvas seeped into the reflection of the water, a platonic relationship as old as time.
The sun was getting lower, but we still had more to see. Another hike up would take us up to a viewpoint overlooking the lake called Oeshinen, and we were running out of daylight. The trees got thicker, and a calm silence filled the air as we started up again towards the clouds. We reached a building with a view of the lake from above, but it wasn’t the end. We kept going, and I couldn’t look away from the mystical rock formations above us, where enchanted clouds orbited its peaks and waterfalls fell from its crevices. I couldn’t help but think of “The Lord of the Rings” (a common theme throughout this trip). We didn’t get much further, however, before we were stopped by a few rangers who told us the gondola was closed. We let them know we were aware and were just trying to get to the viewpoint, but they proceeded to tell us how far we were from it, that we hadn’t even started. They pointed to some people the size of ants walking on the cliffs above us, at least an hour away, and we realized we had no chance. The sun was already starting to set, and our phones’ battery percentages were threatening us by the minute, so we started the hike back down, instead, resisting the urge to stop for more photos.
We were surprised to find people still walking up towards the lake as if it weren’t going to go pitch black in the next 20-30 minutes. We followed a family back down the winding paths, careful not to tumble and slide as we braked around the corners, our thighs once again bracing the momentum of our decline, a little more jelly-like than before. We were absolutely exhausted as we reached the train station, the sun now completely tucked in for bed beneath the horizon, the moon taking over. We sat mostly in silence as we waited for our train to take us back to Gimmelwald, the only dinner a sleeve of crackers and the apple I took at breakfast. It’s amazing how little food we were running off, especially given all the walking we’ve done.
Several hours later, I was ready to quickly slip into sleep as I climbed into bed. However, my phone had other plans. My phone dead at this point, I waited several minutes for it to charge before trying to turn it on. To my surprise, it didn’t want to turn on yet. So, I waited some more. Nothing. I tried not to panic as flashbacks to Chyanne’s green screen of death flashed before my eyes. Was it the cord? Was it the outlet? No, because it was charging my tablet. Was my phone so dead that it literally died? So many questions ran through my head, but I decided it was too late, and I was too tired to linger on it anymore tonight. Along with the paragliding, it would have to be tomorrow’s problem, and I was surprised at how quickly I fell asleep, not knowing if I would have a working phone the next day.
Travel tips I learned today:
Hiking in Switzerland in late September — what to wear: In the early mornings and evenings, the higher you get in the mountains, the colder it is. However, depending on the extremity of your activity, your body will warm up as you hike, and the sun will provide a decent amount of warmth if it’s out. I was hiking in about 60-70 degree Fareinheit partly cloudy weather. For this I would recommend a long sleeve, hiking down jacket, hat to cover your ears, one layer of pants is fine (either leggings, or windbreaker pants, preferably), regular socks (wool not necessary), and occasionally/maybe a light pair of gloves. That being said, if you are going up to higher elevations where frost coats the ground and you can see your breath, especially if just for the view (for example, the Thrill Walk in Eiger), I recommend winter layers: hat, mittens, sweatshirt, jacket, double layer of pants, wool socks, etc.
Check the status of hiking trails for closures online beforehand. You can check the status of the Jungfrau region trails on the following website: https://jungfrauregion.swiss/en/service/operating-status.html.
If you want to hike to the Oeschininsee Lake, make sure you have enough time in the day. I recommend starting morning to early afternoon. It takes a good three hours to hike there and back, and that doesn’t include the hike to the Oeshinen viewpoint.
Bring the portable chargerrr! I don’t know how many times I have kicked myself in the butt with this. The extra weight is worth it. Even if you don’t think you’ll need it, there’s a good chance you’re wrong.
