Wandering with Sam
Swiss Alps Near Interlaken
Sep 12, 2006, 10:08

Alpine Huts

I spent a long weekend on a tour of Switzerland in September, 2006. I have always been intrigued by mountains, probably because I grew up in the northwestern states of Washington and Idaho, both of which feature jagged mountains, deep river canyons and even glaciers. Despite the language barrier, I felt much like I was at home in Switzerland, especially when I was in the mountains.

Switzerland is a relatively small country located in the central part of Europe, bordering Italy, France, Germany, Austria and even tiny Liechtenstein. If it were placed over a map of the Pacific Northwest at the same scale, it would only cover the northern part of the Idaho Panhandle and the adjacent part of Northeastern Washington, roughly the area between Pullman, Spokane, Colville, Bonners Ferry and Wallace. However, like much of Europe, Switzerland is considerably more densely populated than the Inland Northwest, even with Spokane included. Basically, the population of Switzerland is about the same as the states of Idaho and Washington combined (about 7.5 million people) in an area a tenth the size. This level of population density would be the equivalent of everyone from Seattle, Tacoma, Bellevue and Boise relocating to the Spokane and Northern Idaho region.

The Road to Grindelwald

The population tends to be concentrated in the larger cities in the north and west, such as Zurich, Bern, Basel and Geneva, while the southern part of the coutry is dominated by mountain ranges. However even in the mountainous regions there are numerous villages around lakes and at the base of the mountains. In addition, Switzerland is within a day’s drive (or train ride) from major metropolitan areas like Paris, Frankfurt, and Milan, and is also a major international tourist destination that draws people from all over the world. So in light of this, it may seem totally implausible that there is any sense of pristine wilderness left in this densely populated country.

However, Switzerland did not seem overcrowded at all, especially as I hiked into mountain valleys mostly by myself, except for herds of mountain goats and the occasional hiking groups that I met on the trails. I never felt overwhelmed by the population density in Switzerland, probably because the style of development was not particilarly abrasive. Often I find that driving north of the Division Y in Spokane or even through the northern part of Sandpoint, there seems to be an unpleasant reminder of the less desirable aspects of development, even in a region as sparsely populated as the Inland Northwest.

Conversely, development in the rural parts of Switzerland did not seem to spawn a hectic landscape of busy arterial streets and strip malls with wide swaths of pavement that totally obliterates the landscape that preceded it; rather it fosters a rural or village atmosphere of chalets, small shops, barns, village pubs, sheep pastures, and railway stations at the base of practically uninhabited mountains. Clearly the urban sprawl scene probably does occur around the outskirts of larger cities in the north, but it seemed to be quite minimal in the villages around the Alps.

Therefore I had to rethink my attitude about population density, that more people automatically results in a less desirable setting. In actuality, “quality” or thoughtful development can enhance a setting, as I found in Switzerland. For example, the area around the alpine town of Interlaken featured a network of fairly good but lightly traveled roads (ideal for bicycling), regular rail service, and nice restaurants or pubs within a few hundred meters of a waterfall or a trailhead.

I decided at first to visit Zurich, the largest city. I departed Stuttgart’s main station in a Milan bound Cisalpino train and ended up in Zurich after three hours of following the Neckar River as it wound through the eastern hills of the Black Forest.

The Fish and the Dog, Zurich

After arriving in Zurich, I decided to spend the afternoon exploring the city before transferring to another train to the smaller city of Luzerne. I saw immediately that Zurich was a very upscale city with department stores, elite shops, and 300-year-old clock towers along wide promenades near the train station. After milling about with the shopping crowds dressed in expensive jeans and stylish suits, I headed into the old town, a network of narrow cobblestone streets leading downhill to one of the city’s cathedrals. This area was built on a series of hills that led down to the fast moving Aare, which flowed out of Zurich Lake to the south towards the Rhine on the German border. I followed this swirling river past café’s and bridges through the heart of the city, past a nude bathing structure, and a fishing dock where a proud fisherman was photographing an enormous fish that was about the same size as his rather large dog.

Eventually I came to Zurich Lake where I could see snowcapped mountains across the lake to the south, although from where I was, they still seemed quite distant. I walked along the shore for a bit, enjoying the scenery, but eventually I succumbed to the draw of the mountains across the lake and returned to the train station to head south.

Jagged Mountains Across the Lake

After an hour on a crowded commuter train, I arrived in Luzerne, a rather small city on a large lake, the Vierwaldsee. Here the mountains were much closer, a series of jagged peaks across the broad lake and the 7,000 foot high Mount Pilatus looming over the city to the west. Luzerne is known for its old timber bridges supported by stone medieval towers and its spectacular view of the mountains across the lake. I spent some time exploring the city, wandering through the riverfront market area and shopping district as the shadows grew longer and the stores began to close.

After eating a nondescript dinner along the river (while trying to ignore the foot long rats that dashed about my feet), I wandered into the Pickwick bar, a traditional English Pub that largely catered to tourists. That night the Australians dominated, although six or seven Swiss soldiers in their camouflaged uniforms joined us for a few drinks as well. I got to chatting with the Swiss soldiers and found out that they were on an exercise with other European military forces. I asked if any Americans were participating, and they reacted with immediate derision: “Those pussies? We jumped them every time when they came last year. This time they made excuses to stay home, they had to visit their relatives or something!” I didn’t say anything in my country’s defense, because I know that I would be reluctant to challenge the Swiss, especially in their own country where every household is allegedly armed with an assault rifle and every mountain pass is poised to be sealed off at a moments notice if the country is threatened.

The next morning I decided it was time to move on again. The jagged mountains across the lake still seemed too far away. So I scrapped my original plan of riding a bicycle around the lake and boarded another train, this time for Interlaken.

After a two hour trip over a substantial mountain pass, my train arrived in Interlaken. As the name suggests, this town is located between two fairly large lakes and surrounded by mountains. The range to the north was about 5,000 to 6,000 feet high, but it rose straight up from the lake to the east of the village so it seemed quite high. The range to the south was 5,000 to 6,000 feet and also soared straight up out of the lake shore.

Glaciers Covered by Clouds

There was a pronounced opening between two parts of the southern lakefront range, like a gateway, and this led to the Jungfrau region, another mountain range of 13,000 foot high peaks covered with perpetual snow and glaciers. This range included the three most prominent peaks in the area, the Eiger, the Mönch (the Monk), and the Jungfrau (the Virgin), and these were surrounded by a series of other mountain ranges that formed the divide between northern and southern Europe.

I saw advertisements for the Jungfrau Railway, a train that actually traveled to a nearly 11,000 foot high station at the base of the Jungfrau, a site commonly referred to as “The Top of Europe.” I tried to imagine taking a train to the top of Mount Hood near Portland (an equivalent elevation), but that seemed a bit hard to believe. The price for a round trip ticket, $120, also made it seem like a fantasy as well.

Interlaken itself was a tourist village with a lot of hotels and shops, and it was even more lively than usual when I arrived because of an alpine festival. So the village was filled with people in alpine costumes who were yodeling, dancing and performing other such local traditions. Unfortunately, I missed most of the festival because I was drawn to the mountains themselves.

Two valleys led into the mountains from Interlaken, one to the east and one to the southwest. The first followed a mountain stream toward the village of Grindelwald at the base of the Eiger, which soared 10,000 feet above, straight into the heavens. Despite the railway and the tourist buses on the highway, the valley possesed a rural sense, especially around the farms that smelled of cow manure and freshly cut hay. Yet, there was also a rather suburban atmosphere as well, with numerous chalets scattered along the hillside at the base of the mountains. The fast flowing stream that formed the valley was white, perhaps from some mineral content in the mountains. I sort of imagined that the whiteness was the remnants of a recently melted glacier.

The other valley led to the southwest, directly towards the chain of mountains dominated by the Jungfrau. This valley also had a highway with tourist buses, a railway, and a couple other narrow roads and pathways that served as bicycle, hiking or (in the winter) cross country skiing paths.

Waterfalls near Lauterbrunnen

The first major stop along this route is the village of Lauterbrunnen with its hotels, backpacker hostels, restaurants, pubs, and outdoor oriented stores located between two massive alpine canyons with numerous waterfalls. The village pub was filled with younger people from all over the world. As they drank their mid afternoon beer, they either chatted on the community computer or with each other, comparing notes about mountain climbing or para-sailing off of one of the mountain peaks.

Other villages in this valley had gondolas that led up to other points at the top of canyons. I imagine a few of these places are actually ski resorts that cater to hikers and berry pickers during the summer time.

A few miles after Lauterbrunnen the paved road and the railway ended at another small village of chalets and rural farmhouses. Most of the farms had cattle and goats that produced the famous Switzerland cheese. From there, only trails continued into the mountains, following glacier fed mountain streams. These trails wound their way up the side of the mountains, past waterfalls and through goat pastures and patches of what appeared to be huckleberries. Here and there, small wooden huts dotted the landscape, probably for hikers to take shelter in overnight or during bouts of treacherous weather. Unfortunately, the tallest peaks were enshrouded in clouds, but I could see part of the thick glaciers that directly fed the numerous mountain streams.

Alpine Trumpets

After a day spent bicycling and hiking through the mountains around Interlaken, I returned to the village to take part in the alpine festival, which by now was primarily people eating traditional alpine foods like macaroni and cheese, bread and cheese fondue and drinking beer, while musicians played huge alpine trumpets on the street.

As I explored the village, I looked up at the sky and identified a few stars, but I saw other strange lights high overhead that just didn’t quite fit. One was banana shaped, too small to be the moon, but too long to be a star or a planet, but possibly a comet? Another bright light resembled Venus, but it lingered in the same place all evening, refusing to drop below the horizon, as is typical for planets between the Earth and the Sun. Finally it dawned on me that these were not celestial objects at all, but some sort of lights or beacons on top of the mountains that surrounded the village. Once darkness settled in, I had simply forgotten just how high they were.

© Copyright 2007 by RuralNorthwest.com