hausfrau

DAY 5: SWITZERLAND’S FINEST (LAKE COMO TO KANDERSTEG)

Morning dawned to reveal bright blue skies and a gorgeous view of Lake Como from our balcony. We wanted to take a stroll around town before checking out, so we were among the first guests down to breakfast in the Metropole’s lakefront dining room. We made our selections from the simple buffet, then set out to explore. It was Sunday so the town was very quiet. Bellagio is full of pretty cobblestone streets that stair-step down the steep hill to the lake. I couldn’t get enough of the warm-toned villas with their wrought-iron balconies overflowing with flowers and vines. We wandered into the piazza in front of the church just as everyone was arriving for services, then walked back along the waterfront and took in the view across the lake to Varenna.

After making a big loop around town, we returned to the hotel to check out. DH waited with the luggage while I retrieved our car. We caught the 10:15 ferry to Cadenábbia, on the western shore of Lake Como. (I have to remark that the ferry system on Lake Como seemed highly efficient and using it was a breeze. It would be quite easy to spend a few days zipping around the lake without need for a car.) I took the wheel to drive us out of Cadenábbia, past more tile-roofed villas clinging to the steep slopes, with magnificent views out over the lake. We headed northwest on route 340, which winds along the north shore of Lake Lugano. It was a crystal-clear morning and the lakeside villages of Porlezza and Albogasio looked like especially nice places to spend a few relaxing days.

We soon crossed back into the Italian-speaking part of Switzerland and descended into Lugano, a large resort town nestled along the lake. It was too big for our liking, with lots of high-rise apartment buildings, but we figured we could at least find a gas station here where we could buy a Swiss highway vignette – the toll sticker that you have to place on your windshield. Since it was Sunday, several of the gas stations we passed were closed. The first one we found that was open did not sell the vignettes, and we were starting to get a little desperate as we approached the autostrada. Finally, at the very last gas station before the freeway entrance, we were able to buy the vignette, which set us back a whopping 40 Swiss francs (about $35). It’s valid for a year – too bad we would only be in Switzerland for three days!

We hooked up with the A2 and headed north through Bellinzona. At Biasca we got off the A2 and continued north on the Strada del Lucomagno – a smooth, wide, two-lane road – which tooks us over the Passo del Lucomagno (pass #13, 1914 meters). On the ascent we wound up through a dramatic green valley dotted with slate-roofed cottages. At the top we passed a small reservoir held back by an enormous concrete dam, and then we traversed a long, broad, high-mountain meadow called the Val Medel. This area seems to be a very popular destination for Sunday picnickers, who were out in full force, camped out on the sandy riverbanks.

At Disentis / Mustér we headed west on route 19, towards the Oberalppass (pass #14, 2044 meters) to Andermatt. This was an awesome stretch of road and I think DH was beginning to regret his insistence on driving the Stelvio Pass, because I seemed to be getting all the best roads. Unfortunately I was waylaid by some slow-moving traffic on the ascent of the Oberalp, but it wasn’t nearly as busy as Stelvio and I was able to pass a few cars on the straightaways. We stopped at the top of the Oberalp for lunch (most of the passes are marked by a cluster of hotels and restaurants and we figured we should have the experience of eating at one of these places at least once). We had spent most of our Swiss francs already on the vignette and the restaurant didn’t take credit cards, but fortunately they accepted Euros. It was sunny and warm enough to sit outside on the terrace and enjoy the view, including the endless parade of motorcycles roaring by. DH had Rösti (a classic Swiss dish of chopped potatoes pan-fried with onions, ham, and cheese) and I had Käseschnitte – an open-faced grilled-cheese sandwich with ham and pickled onions. Delicious!

DH took over driving after lunch and we continued down the other side of the Oberalp to Andermatt, a popular ski resort town. We continued on route 19 up the Furkapass (pass #15, our highest pass of the day at 2431 meters), distinguishable by the razor-edged peaks towering above the road. From the top of the Furkapass you can see the Rhônegletscher (Rhône Glacier), the source of the Rhône River. We stopped just over the top to take in the view down the other side of the Furkapass and across the valley to the Grimselpass (pass #16, 2165 meters), which we would be tackling next. We stopped again on the way down to get as close as we could to the lip of the glacier. Just above us, a gush of water tumbled out of the dirty blue ice and cascaded down a wall of rocks into the valley below. Just imagine – this thin trickle of a stream meandering down a narrow valley in Switzerland eventually becomes the mighty Rhône.

The road down the other side of the Furkapass was a masterpiece of asphalt – a long descent of switchbacks and straightaways to the valley floor, across the river, and then we began the equally impressive ascent of the Grimselpass. Now that we have driven sixteen of the highest mountain passes in Europe, we are quite in awe of the labor and engineering required to construct these routes – many of which have been in existence for more than a hundred years. Just over the top of the Grimselpass the road curved around a series of small reservoirs colored a milky green from the glacial silt. We dropped steeply into a canyon carved by the Aare River – a Yosemite-esque landscape of great curving slabs of granite and thick conifer forests. We continued northwest through Meiringen and then hooked up with the two-lane highway that parallels the Brienzer See to Interlaken – and finally entered familiar territory, as we had been here last fall with my parents.

We ran into a huge traffic jam along the Thuner See just west of Interlaken – apparently everyone else was returning from their Sunday outings at the same time that we were trying to make our way to Kandersteg. We had the top down so we were baking in the sun as we crept along the lake for nearly an hour (a distance we should have been able to cover in about ten minutes). Finally we reached the turnoff for Kandersteg and made the now-familiar trek up the dead-end valley to the Hotel Adler, our home for the next three nights. We arrived around 7 pm and checked into our large room on the second floor. We had a couch and a lounge chair this time, and a big private balcony looking out the back of the hotel toward the mountains. Our bathroom was a bit odd – it looked like they had covered it over with sheets of white fiberglass, which were bolted to the walls, almost like they had taken a stopgap measure to cover up some sort of terrible problem – but at least it was clean. We had dinner at the Adler’s restaurant – I had the classic Rösti and DH had pasta with chicken and lemon chive sauce. After traversing four of Switzerland’s finest mountain passes, we were thoroughly exhausted but exhilarated by the day’s thrilling drive!

Today’s photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/hausfra...7603093021239/

Coming Next: We park the car for a day and go up the Jungfraujoch

enzian

Wait----don't forget the Fründenhütte!!!

hausfrau

Patience, enzian - that's coming up on Day 7!

enzian

OK, OK.

Love Hotel Adler---it sounds like you have stayed there before? We generally stay up at the lake, at Hotel Oeschinensee, but often end up eating a meal or two at the Adler.

hausfrau

This was my third stay at the Adler - the first time was over 15 years ago. We have friends that stay there just about every year. I have to say we were a bit disappointed by the bathroom this time around.

It must be great to stay up at the lake - I've always wondered, do they let guests drive up there or do you have to take the chairlift?

flygirl

Hausfrau

I just emailed Uhrerhof. I am sure we would stay there May 28 and 29. May 27 is our "Grossglockner" day and I don't know if we can leave Heiligenblut (the end) and still make it to Pufels before dark. What are your thoughts?

I know that Ingo said there are many fine views in between Heiligenblut and Ortisei, perhaps if we reach Pufels Tuesday night, we can spend Wednesday backtracking.

Staying in one spot would be ideal, with day trips - unless of course it's just a lot of ground to cover in which case we could just stay somewhere b/w Heiligenblut and Pufels.

Vielen Dank!

enzian

Hausfrau--you have to take the chairlift up there, or walk. We've done both. Generally we leave luggage in lockers in the train station, and just go up with what we need for a few days in daypacks. One year we actually took our luggage up, walking up the path. (The teen girls could not imagine leaving anything behind; they were adamant about that). So we trekked up with our roller bags. We are now famous for that---apparently the people we encountered on the way (who were hiking down) still talk about it. . .

It is really lovely to spend the night up there, and the food is terrific.

flygirl

Hey, we already heard back from the hotel - room 101 is ours! Either for two nights or three nights.

Now I just have to figure out if plowing through the day we finish the Grossglockner, all the way to Pufels, is a good idea. We'd do the "touring" from that as a base...

hausfrau

flygirl, I can't believe you got our room! That's terrific. I really hope you enjoy it as much as we did.

As for pushing all the way to Pufels that day you are coming from Grossglockner...I am not familiar with the route, so I can't say for sure. I mapped it and it's about 175 km from Heiligenblut to Pufels, with a driving time of 3:15. Of course that doesn't include stopping to take in the views. I'm not sure I would want to go all the way to Pufels only to backtrack to see what I missed along the way - there's going to be so much for you to see around the Sella Gruppe as it is! Maybe others can chime in on what would be a good stopping point in between.

enzian, I can't help laughing, picturing your family pulling roller bags up to Oeschinensee! When you hear the story of our day at Oeschinensee, you will understand. Speaking of which, I'd better get back to work on this report!

hausfrau

DAY 6: THE MAGNIFICENT JUNGFRAUJOCH

The mountain panorama from our balcony was spectacular this morning – not a cloud in the sky, and the temperature was downright balmy. The Hotel Adler posts a weather forecast in the lobby so we knew that today was our best chance for sunshine and clear skies; thus we planned to take the train up to the Jungfraujoch, the rocky saddle between two of the highest mountains in the Berner Oberland, the Mönch and the Jungfrau. At 3454 meters, the Jungfraujoch boasts the highest train station in Europe and visiting it was one of the primary reasons why we returned to Kandersteg on this trip. I’d been wanting to go up there since my first visit to the region about 15 years ago, and DH was enamored by the idea when we went up to Kleine Scheidegg with my parents last year.

We got going around 10 am and I drove us to Lauterbrunnen, where we bought tickets for the 11:30 train to Kleine Scheidegg. (Warning: it is extremely expensive to go all the way up to the Jungfraujoch – it cost us 265 Euro for two round-trip tickets from Lauterbrunnen - so don’t do it unless you know you will have good weather at the top!) We settled into our compartment on the cog train for the 45-minute ride up from Lauterbrunnen and through Wengen. The train was quite full; we sat across from a couple of British guys and an American family with two teenagers. The mountains were totally clear on the way up and we agreed that it could not have been a more perfect day for this journey. We saw a few of my favorite Swiss cows along the way. We had a short wait at Kleine Scheidegg so we went into a gift shop and bought some magnets (I started collecting magnets from all of the countries we visited while living in Germany, so I had to catch up and buy two from Switzerland, one for each trip we’ve made here). For some inexplicable reason, a small herd of goats had camped out right in the middle of the train station and were eliciting lots of attention from the Japanese tourists.

We boarded our train around 1:00 and started the long, slow ascent up to the Jungfraujoch. After the first stop, we entered the 7.3-kilometer long tunnel that traverses the massive wall of the Eiger. The train stopped twice on the way up, each time for about five minutes, so we could walk out to the viewing platforms and look straight down the wall of ice, all the way to the green valley of Grindelwald far below. En route, a video played on board the train explaining the history of the tunnel and the construction of the station at the top. The tunnel was the brainchild of a man named Adolf Guyer-Zeller, who originally planned for the train to climb all the way to the topmost lookout platform, now known as the Sphinx. The project began in 1896 and took 16 years to complete; unfortunately the tunnel’s construction was plagued by budget shortfalls, inclement weather, and numerous accidents. In the end the tunnel stopped at the base of the Jungfraujoch saddle, but it still represents a monumental achievement in engineering.

The Jungfraujoch station is an enormous multi-level complex, most of which is built inside the rock itself. (Here is a good picture of the complex: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imageiteoverview.jpg) We stepped off the train into what felt like a cross between a subway station and an amusement park, with an array of colored arrows pointing the way to the various attractions. We first walked through the Ice Palace, which is a network of ice tunnels and caves filled with imaginative sculptures. This is worth a look, especially if you’ve never been in an ice cave before. The whole place has an eerie green glow and it’s fun to slide around on the smooth-as-glass floor. Next we went to one of the two outdoor viewing areas, where you can walk around in the snow, take in views of the jagged peaks of the Jungfrau and Mönch rearing dramatically into the sky, and have your picture taken in front of the proudly waving Swiss flag. Then we took the high-speed elevator up to the Sphinx (it climbs over 100 feet in a matter of seconds), where you can walk around outside on a circular viewing platform. From here we got incredible panoramic views of the mountains and the awesome Aletsch Glacier, which, at 120 square kilometers, is the largest glacier in the Alps. We watched a glider soaring in lazy circles just off the side of the Mönch and we could see a string of mountain climbers starting their hike up the Jungfrau.

We opted not to eat lunch at the station (the “nice” restaurant was far too expensive and the “casual” restaurant was a glorified cafeteria), and instead decided to make the short hike across the glacier to the Mönchsjochütte, a typical Swiss hiker’s lodge. The 45-minute trek across a gently rising slope covered in fresh snow was a lot harder than it looked – at 11,300 feet, we were gasping for air! It was definitely worth the effort, as the crowds dispersed as soon as we got a few hundred feet away from the station. (You can rent sleds and even ski equipment up here, but the ski slope is pretty pathetic.) Signs warned us to stay on the groomed trail, because if you head off into untouched snow you just might fall into a hidden crevasse in the ice. Walking across the blinding white snow under impossibly blue skies, with views of craggy peaks and the vast glacier spreading out before us, was simply mind-boggling. Finally the hütte came into view – a rugged-looking structure on stilts, clinging to the “hip” of the Mönch. Below us we could see a snug circle of dome tents clustered in a not-so-sheltered hollow and agreed that we would leave snow camping to the die-hard mountain climbers.

We were starving when we finally arrived at the hütte, so we decided to share a plate of bratwurst and potato salad along with a couple bottles of Apfelschörle (that’s German for sparkling apple juice). We sat at a window looking out beyond the Mönch to a wide expanse of rock and ice. While we were sitting there, DH just happened to see a sign on the wall with the train schedule and he realized that the next train was leaving at 4:45, and then there wasn’t another departure until the last train of the day at 6:05. It was already 4:15, which gave us exactly 30 minutes to get back down to the train station. We literally ran, slipping and sliding through the snow, all the way back, and arrived at the station at 4:40. Clouds were starting to move in over the Jungfrau and the Sphinx was nearly hidden from view as we approached the station. The 4:45 train was already full and there was a line of about two hundred people waiting for the next one. Fortunately another train came at 5:05 and we squeezed onto it, taking the last jump-seats in our compartment. The train was absolutely packed – people were standing and sitting in the aisles. Riding through a long tunnel in an overcrowded train is not so much fun, but we struck up a conversation with a nice guy from Ohio who was there with his Swiss wife, who works for Nestlé (sounds too good to be true, doesn’t it?). At Kleine Scheidegg we only had a couple of minutes to change trains for our ride down to Lauterbrunnen, so we didn’t end up spending any time there today. We were glad we had explored the area well last fall. The Eiger, Mönch, and Jungfrau were totally obscured by clouds as we headed down and we thanked our lucky stars that the good weather had held out long enough for our visit. Some people find the trip to the Jungfraujoch overpriced and too touristy, but we really enjoyed it, especially the view from the Sphinx and the hike to the Mönchsjochhütte.

We arrived back in Lauterbrunnen at 7:30 and then made the 45-minute drive back to Kandersteg without incident. We had dinner at the Hotel Victoria across the street from the Adler, where we were served by a very nice waitress from Berlin who spoke perfect English but obliged us by speaking German. We had a very good meal – I started with a house salad, then a delicious Schweinesteak on a bed of steamed spinach with a fabulous gravy, topped with shavings of a hard, salty local cheese (I wish I could remember the name – it was delicious!). DH had salmon prepared three ways with a horseradish relish followed by a meat dish that we can’t remember – things are starting to blur together and I didn’t take good notes. We headed off to bed thinking gloomy thoughts about tomorrow, which was supposed to be our hiking day, because the forecast was calling for rain!

Today’s photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/hausfra...7603282245227/

Coming Next: We buy real cow bells and have a hiking adventure above Oeschinensee

Steve_James

Hausfrau - More lovely photos I'd love to do that ride!

Flygirl - There are other routes to Bulla/Pufels without going via Cortina. From Dobbiaco you could take a shorter route - with some fabulous detours on the way - e.g Lake Braies (- the most beautiful lake in Italy ) and Prato Piazza

That way you wouldn't be rushing - and you could save the glorious Sellaronda passes for your full-day tour the next day.

You could decide at Dobbiaco on the day, depending on weather and time available. That's what I'd do ...

Steve

hausfrau

Here it is, enzian - in lengthy detail!

DAY 7: OUR SEARCH FOR REAL COW BELLS & A VERY WET HIKE TO THE FRÜNDENHÜTTE

The Swiss weather forecasters were, sadly, quite accurate: it started raining overnight and it was drizzling when we got up this morning. The mountains were invisible and it looked like our plans to hike to the Fründenhütte were going to be literally washed away. (The Fründenhütte is another traditional hiker’s hut perched on a ridge about 1000 feet above the shores of Oeschinensee, a gorgeous glacial lake nestled in a cupped valley above Kandersteg.) We were sorely disappointed since we had added a day to our trip for the express purpose of attempting the hike to the Fründenhütte. We decided to look around Kandersteg in the morning and wait to see if the weather might clear up a bit. We stopped at the cheese shop a block from our hotel, where they have a gigantic cow bell hanging in the window, and I decided to inquire there about where I might find my very own authentic Swiss cow bell. I was tired of the silly tourist-variety bells with their faux-leather straps and rainbow-colored fringe; I wanted an honest-to-goodness bell that was made to be worn by a real cow. Three people were working in the shop at the time (all of whom spoke some English, fortunately), and they gave me three different (and rather emphatic, might I add) opinions on where I could find my cow bell. The first suggestion was a shop in Reichenbach, a little ways down the valley, where they make bells; the second was an antique store near Frütingen, also just down the road; and the third was a retired farmer in Kandersteg who just happened to have a barn full of cow bells that he wasn’t using anymore. The directions for the latter were a bit vague and one look at DH’s face told me that wandering down a country lane in search of an elderly farmer who might sell us his bells was not the sort of wild goose chase he was willing to go on this morning – chance at authentic cow bells notwithstanding – so we opted to try the first two options.

We headed down to Reichenbach and drove up and down the main street a couple of times; the only shop we found that looked like it might sell cow bells was a hardware store, but they were closed for their autumn holiday. A few bells were hanging on a rack in front of the door, taunting me. The antique store was relatively easy to find, but it too was closed. I walked up to the window and pressed my face to the glass: lo and behold, there was a beautiful antique cow bell just sitting there, a few feet inside the door! At that very moment a car pulled into the driveway. An older woman stuck her head out the window and called out that the shop was closed. I asked if she spoke English; she said no. I asked her in German when the shop would be open. She asked if I was looking for something in particular and I told her yes – Kuhglocken! She nodded and indicated that she could open up the shop. She unlocked the door, then disappeared behind a curtain leading to a back room. A few seconds later a 5-month-old Berner puppy bounded through the doorway. In his excitement he piddled on the floor right in front of me, narrowly missing my shoe.

The shop was amazing – a cavernous space full of gorgeous wooden furniture, farm implements, and the usual knickknacks. Of course I was oblivious to everything except for the two long beams spanning the room that were lined with – glory hallelujah! – dozens of beautiful cow bells in every size imaginable, hanging from thick leather collars fastened with heavy buckles. I was in bell heaven. The lovely bell I had spotted in the window was apparently a rare French model from Chamonix that cost a whopping 400 Swiss Francs, but I was certain the others would be more affordable. After much looking and discussion we picked out three bells – one full-size one and two smaller calf’s bells, one of which looked brand new. The lady had to call the shop owner for the prices. She came down on the price of the new bell, bringing the total to 310 ChF. Of course they didn’t take credit cards or EC cards, and I had only withdrawn 200 ChF from the ATM in Kandersteg and so had a grand total of 274 ChF plus change in my wallet. I showed the lady my empty wallet and offered her an additional 10 Euro to help make up the difference, but she refused it. She mentioned something about a bank down the road, but we made it clear that we had no intention of coming back. She finally accepted the Francs, muttering, “Es ist mein Kopf!” (It’s my head!), but she seemed pretty amiable about it. As we were leaving DH told her, “Jetz brauchen wir drei Kuhe.” (Now we need three cows.)

Very satisfied with our cow bell venture, we headed back up the valley to Kandersteg. It was about 1 pm now and still drizzling, but we decided to give the hike a shot anyway – what did we have to lose, other than getting a little wet? We stopped at the hotel to pile on what would pass for our rain gear and walked up the road to the Sesselbahn (chairlift). We bought two round-trip tickets and were grateful for the thick wool blanket the attendant laid across our laps as we headed up into the clouds. From the top of the lift it was a 20-minute walk to the shores of Oeschinensee, which was nearly invisible in the low-hanging fog. We snacked on organic cheeseburgers and Cokes at the lakeshore restaurant and then set off on the trail to the Fründenhütte at precisely 2:15 pm. The sign at the trailhead said it would take 2 ½ hours to reach the hut. That would leave us only an hour and fifteen minutes to get back down to the chairlift, which closes at 6:00, but we decided to give it our best shot.

We headed up the narrow, rocky trail in a steady drizzle, crossing several dry streambeds and cutting through a stunted conifer forest. The trail skirted the edge of the lake for a while, then began climbing steadily upwards. We scrambled over slippery rocks and roots, past low flowering bushes that appeared to be tiny wild azaleas, then emerged into a barren rocky landscape peppered with clumps of straggly grasses. We crossed three wooden footbridges over rushing streams that came cascading off the cliff high above our heads and tumbled downwards to the lake, now far below us. We continued up, up, up, through an endless series of switchbacks. The vegetation all but disappeared and the landscape transitioned to rain-streaked shards of black shale. At one point the clouds thinned enough to give us a glimpse of a huge cliff looming above us, and we knew that somehow the trail would take us up there. We couldn’t see much in any direction, so we lost all sense of scale or height. We could no longer make out the ultramarine blue of the lake below and the Fründenhütte perched on its rocky ridge was lost somewhere in the clouds far above. Several sections of the trail took us up nearly sheer cliff faces, with stone steps gouged into the rock and metal cables to guide our way.

Our original turnaround time of 4:00 came and went, but we knew we must be getting close. Finally we passed a large plastic water tank labeled Fründenhütte and we knew we must be very close. The trail wound up and around one last rocky outcropping and suddenly the squat stone face of the hut with its cheerful red-and-white striped shutters appeared out of the gloom. We turned around and glimpsed a brief splash of blue-green waters through the swirling mist far below. Directly across from us we could make out the vague forms of the high peaks on the other side of the lake. The view must be absolutely magnificent on a clear day! All around the hut, rock-strewn slopes swept upwards into jagged peaks crowned with ice sheets. It was 4:30 and we had made the 1000-foot climb in exactly two hours and fifteen minutes. A light glowed dimly through the hut’s lace curtains but there was no other sign of life as we walked slowly around the building. There wasn’t even an overhang where we could sit and rest for a few minutes. We had paused momentarily to look at the inscription over the door when the upper half of the split-door opened and a young man peered out. I said, “Hello there!” and he said hello back, giving us an odd look. I’m sure he was wondering what sort of crazy people had decided to make the hike up to the hut on this sort of day (we hadn’t encountered another soul on the trail). He had a dog with him – a scrawny, wary-eyed shepherd – but apparently he was the only person staying at the hut at the moment. We asked him to take our picture and he kindly obliged. We would have liked to linger and chat, but we had a timetable to keep. We said goodbye and turned back down the trail, leaving the young man to stare rather quizzically after us.

By this point we were soaked through and the drizzle had turned to a steady rain. We couldn’t see a thing below us, which was perhaps fortunate, since I imagine the view is rather virtiginous when the weather is clear. We kept up a hard pace on the way down, but the going was very difficult – cold, wet, slippery, and tough on the knees. I stopped to snap a few pictures (I was using our point-and-shoot Canon because I didn’t want to risk soaking my SLR, which I was nevertheless lugging around in my backpack) but DH, ever safety-conscious, kept urging me on because he was worried about the streams. (Once again we found ourselves on a steep mountain trail, late in the day, with no emergency supplies, and no one knew where we were.) Sure enough, about a thousand small streams had appeared since we had made our way up the mountain, and water was now cascading from cliffs where there had been none before. As we approached each of the three major stream crossings, we wondered if the footbridges would be underwater. Fortunately none of them was, but the water was much higher than it had been on the way up, boiling violently through the narrow channels only a few inches under our feet. We were fairly relieved when we crossed the third bridge, but we still had a ways to go. The once-dry streambeds had turned into raging torrents, and by the time we arrived back at the shore of Oeschinensee, my boots had turned into sodden sponges. It was 5:45 and we knew we had virtually no chance of making it to the chairlift before 6:00, since the walk to the lake had taken us twenty minutes – downhill and before we were exhausted from a long hike.

We decided that fate had deemed for us to walk all the way back to Kandersteg – a descent of another 1000 feet – in the rain. I had made this trek once before, fifteen years ago, and I knew it was going to be hard on my knees. We decided to take the dirt trail instead of the paved road since it would be a little less jarring. We passed a small herd of rain-bedraggled cows on the way down, their bells (which, I noted with immense satisfaction, looked just like the ones we had purchased this morning) clanging mournfully in the mist. It took us another hour to reach the valley floor, by which point my knees had turned to jelly and I could barely walk in a straight line. The route wasn’t well-marked and we ended up hiking cross-country down a ski slope part of the way. Finally we reached the raging river and followed it back into town.

By the time we stumbled through the welcoming door of the Hotel Adler it was 7:15. A hot shower never felt so good! We rewarded ourselves with a huge pot of fondue and a bottle of Riesling in the Adler’s dining room. We even ordered extra bread, and wiped the pot clean. I can’t remember fondue ever tasting so good.

Today’s photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/hausfra...7603796053441/

Coming Next: The long road home

enzian

Ohhhhh . . . my . . . . gosh!

I can't believe you did that hike in the rain! To those reading this----those photos do not do justice to the cliffy sections, with cables to protect you (barely) from falling off the narrow ledges. Some places it must be 1000 feet straight down the rock. And here's Hausfrau, skipping and dancing up (and down) those wet and slippery rocks, balancing on ledges and probably singing "The Hills are Alive. . ."

Ausgezeichnet!!!

The last 2 times we have been to Switzerland, we have gone and stayed up at Oeschinensee, just so we could hike to Fründenhütte again. And each time, it has been raining, so we wimped out and skipped it.

And then you had to walk all the way back down (it's actually a good bit more than 1000 feet; just about exactly 400 meters is about 1300 feet.) Good choice to go down the path, though; the road is very steep and slippery!

You definitely earned your fondue and Riesling that night. I'm glad you made it back safely. Thanks for the lovely photos and gripping story! (Love the little black newt---did he stay perfectly still?)

hausfrau

enzian, I'm so glad someone out there can appreciate what we went through to get up (and down) from there! It really was worth it despite the weather - we felt like we had truly accomplished something - but I'm not sure we would have done it in retrospect, knowing how slippery and exposed it would be. Nevertheless, it was our last opportunity (for the forseeable future) to try it and I had been waiting 15 years to do it!

The newt was motionless - he looked like a rubber toy. I saw newts similar to that one in the woods around Stuttgart and the first time I saw one I had to nudge it to make sure it was real!

enzian

We came across one walking from Grutschalp to Mürren is it was also motionless, as if frozen (it was very cold out that day). "Rubber toy" was exactly how I would describe it. And like you, I finally nudged it to see if it was alive (it was).

And yes, I definitely appreciate your accomplishment in hiking up to the hut in that weather. We did it on a gorgeous sunny day, but I remember thinking---"this is not something I would do in bad weather with wet rocks!" Which is why I haven't been able to do it since. Maybe next time. . . whenver that will be.

CltLwyr

Hausfrau,

Thank you for the report and pictures.

We were thinking of taking the Stelvio Pass in the other direction. We will be in Varenna on Lake Como, and will want to go to the Dolomites. We will be traveling that streatch on a Tuesday in early July.

Is there another route you would take?

I think I see what you did...you went north from the SP to the SS41 and then over to St. Moritz? Would you recommend that vs coming up the SS38 from Lake Como through Sondrio(which seems more direct)?

Thanks!

hausfrau

Hi CltLwyr,
The route we took was definitely not direct, but we wanted to drive the Ofenpass, which we really enjoyed. It was a nice break after the Stelvio and the Swiss National Park was gorgeous. It would indeed be more direct to go through Sondrio as you describe, if you wanted to get to the Stelvio more quickly. It looks like that route follows the river most of the way so it would be a flatter, valley-bottom kind of drive.

I won't discourage you from driving the Stelvio - I do think it would be more fun coming down than going up and I think you will be better off driving it on a weekday in July. It's certainly quite an experience, I just wouldn't pick the Stelvio over some of the other passes if given the choice.

hausfrau

And the final (brief) installment...

DAY 8: THE LONG ROAD HOME

The last day of our Alpine journey dawned cloudy and rainy, but we decided to continue with our original plan to traverse the final two passes on our itinerary – the 2224-meter Sustenpass and the 1948-meter Klausenpass – on our way back to Bregenz. The former was identified as Car Magazine’s favorite of all the great mountain passes of the Alps, so we had to give it a try. Unfortunately the weather did not improve and our seven-hour drive through the mountains was completely socked in. We can only imagine the magnificent vistas of snow-capped peaks and verdant valleys that were hidden from view today! DH had a heck of a time just staying on the road and I had to satisfy my photographic cravings by taking pointless but amusing pictures out the window of the bottomless white abyss. It was a long day of driving through endless clouds, but we made it safely home to Stuttgart in good time.

What a magnificent journey (despite a few dips in the weather)…we are already fantasizing about running an auto touring operation in the Alps. We would provide the cars (we’ve decided Mini Coopers would be just about perfect), mechanical support, guides, driving routes, and hotel reservations, and our clients would get to explore the best scenic roads of the Alps! One of DH’s colleagues has already volunteered to be one of our guides. Now if only we had about a million dollars in start-up funds…

Today’s (very limited) photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/hausfra...7603812729513/

I hope this report helps those of you planning a driving trip through the Alps. I know technical high-altitude driving is not for everyone, but for those who love narrow winding roads and gorgeous scenery, you just can't beat the Alps!

scub

tx for this awesome report. and so little money to start the operations ?

CltLwyr

How long did it take you, in total, to get from Ortisie to Varenna?

I was thinking that it might take a long time, and was even considering spending a night in Glurns to break up that section. Would you think that is necessary?

Thanks again for the advice.