Day 5: Lauterbrunnen Valley

Wednesday

We awoke to rain and fog today. Esther said there would be more rain throughout the day, and she was right. She suggested seeing Trummelbach Falls, since they were inside a mountain and out of the weather. Jared and I and an old man with a long beard and cane waited for the van in Gimmelwald. We rode it back up to Murren. The radio was playing American rock hits, and the old man and driver were talking rapidly in German.

From Murren, we rode the lift back down to Stechelberg. The beginning of a trail is right near the lift that winds down the Lauterbrunnen Valley to the town of Lauterbrunnen. We walked the trail for a couple miles under a light rainfall until we reached Trummelbach Falls. We paid our fare and rode an elevator built inside the mountain to the top of the falls. The attraction was a series of caves and precipices inside the mountain that follow the waterfall. It was extraordinary and very difficult to photograph. It was very dark inside and the walkway was very close to the falls, so you couldn't get a wide shot. Anyway, we spent a couple hours there with an oversized, unpleasant group of Indian tourists pushing and screaming to one another over the roar of the falls.

When we came outside, the sun was out and it was warming up. We shed some clothes. We walked over to some building on the grounds and had lunch on the porch. Jared (who was always up in the morning before me) had purchased bread, sausage, jerky, and alpkase (homemade alp cheese) from Esther's little store that morning. While we were eating, we heard a thunderous sound from the mountain above us and, looking up, saw an avalanche shooting down the side of the cliff. We would eventually see (and hear) quite a few of them during our stay. We spoke with one man in Gimmewald who said that one of the avalanches that week had come all the way down into Stechelberg.

We returned to our walk down the valley in intermittent sunshine, but the fog remained. Waterfalls were everywhere we looked. The mountains peeked out at us here and there, tempting us with a bit of grandeur and hope. We arrived in Lauterbrunnen, and, after a brief exploration of main street, we rode another lift up to Grutschalp, then took a train past Winteregg and on to Murren, then walked the main street of Murren to the lift station. The lift to Gimmelwald was working again (it was down for maintenance, which is why we had to take the van), so we rode it back down to Gimmelwald.

After a rest in our room, we made the 30 minute walk up to Murren. We made this walk quite a few times and it was a joy to me, especially when we could finally see the tops of the peaks. I can't imagine living in a place with such glorious views everyday.

We ate dinner at the Stagerstubli, which seemed to be the only restaurant in town that was open on a weekday. The town practically shuts down between ski season and the full-blown summer season. The food was great.

We walked back to Gimmelwald and when we arrived home we had new guests: a very fun, personable couple from New Zealand.








One of the falls at Trummelbach.






Another of the falls at Trummelbach. Many of them thundered through the carved rock like this one.






Lunch!






Looking down the Lauterbrunnen valley toward Lauterbrunnen town.






A little chalet in the valley I thought was cool.






On our walk home from Murren, we heard a rumbling and saw this avalanche.






This is the best view of the Monch (Monk) we saw so far.

Day 4: Gimmewald, Switzerland

Tuesday

In the morning, I had a croissant and coffee at a cafe in the train station before we left Montreux on the GoldenPass Rail. It was a panoramic train, which really means there were big windows so you could look out at the mountain scenery. Of course, the views were a bit disappointing because of the rain and fog. We arrived at Interlaken late morning. Interlaken is the major town and travel hub in the Bernese Oberland. While I was sitting around the train station sipping coffee, Jared spotted a CoOp store and wandered over. He came back about 20 minutes later, visibly excited, arms laden with food supplies. From that moment, CoOp became our new favorite store. Cheap(er) food!

We left Interlaken for Lauterbrunnen by train. What a ride! Although it was still raining, we could see some of the mountains. Waterfalls everywhere. Giant peaks. We were finally in the Bernese Oberland, and I was excited! Apparently, an elderly couple sitting across from us either found my constant "ooh-ing" and pointing as either charming or ridiculous.

We arrived at Lauterbrunnen where we took a bus (not obvious) to Stechelberg, a tiny village about 15 minutes from Lauterbrunnen nestled up the Lauterbrunnen Valley below towering peaks and cliffs. It was raining again and we couldn't see the tops of the peaks. From there, we boarded a gondola (which I'll refer to as a "lift" from now on) big enough to fit about 20 people or so. It took us up the steep rock face in front of us. (I think they call these cliffs the Lauterbrunnen Wall.) It gave me the willies. It was very, very steep, with the lift seeming to rise almost vertically, like an elevator. As we ascended, we looked around the valley and all the waterfalls. The closer we got to the top (which we still could not see), the rain started turning slushy. Higher and higher and the slush became a full-blow snow event. We got off the lift at Murren and entered a heavy snowfall.

The next step was to get down to Esther's house, a somewhat communal bed and breakfast in the sleepy village of Gimmewald. We discovered the van that ran every half hour or so down to the village, so we hopped on. Down a narrow, windy road we rode (a little too fast for my comfort) where we were then deposited in the middle of the village. Seeing as the entire town consists of about 100 people, we didn't have far to walk.

Esther was surprised to see us, as I had gotten the reservations wrong and we weren't expected until the following day. She had room, though, and was gracious enough to allow us to stay an extra day. The room was very nice, opening into a communal area/kitchen and, across the hall, our washroom, which we shared with another couple for one day, but otherwise had to ourselves.

The windows in our room overlooked the village and the surrounding mountains. We opened them and breathed in the fresh air...and snow... The peaks were still shrouded, so we had no idea of the amazing landscape around us. We unpacked and then walked down to the Mountain Hostel (the only place in town serving food) for pizza and indecipherable german conversation.






The lift in Murren arriving from Stechelberg. This was taken days later, after the mists and snow had cleared. We could see very little of the surrounding landscape when we first arrived.






Dropped off! The main drag of Gimmelwald. Esther's is the house at the end of the street, and our window is the top left one.






On the way to Esther's, this little chalet caught my eye. I've yet to translate the carving. Most homes here have some sort of textual carving on the outside, a proverb, the family name, etc.






The view (and the snow) as seen from our window at Esther's, down "Main Street". I'm dying to know how high those mountains are!






The view to the left, overlooking the only real restaurant in town, the Berg Geist, which was "geschlossen" for the off-season. (We became quite familiar with the word "geschlossen" during our travels.) The mountains ahead are hidden, but we would eventually learn they were the massif containing the Eiger, Monch, and Jungfrau.

Days 2 and 3: Lausanne and Montreux, Switzerland

Sunday/Monday

Sunday evening, we arrived in Geneva to rain. Our next adventure was getting to Laussane and finding our hostel. Most of the larger cities (and many of the smaller ones in between) are connected by rail, so it is relatively convenient to get around, once you figure it all out, that is. As you'll see, all the modes of transportation and connections and schedules can get a little tricky and frustrating. We arrived in Lausanne by train. Pouring rain. Donning our rain jackets (they look a little funny with bulging backpacks underneath) we found our hostel about a 10-minute walk from the train station. The rooms were very nice and I presume had nice views of the lake and the mountains beyond. Whenever we were in the room, however, it was either dark or rainy or foggy. We crashed.

Monday morning it was up-and-at-em to travel to Montreux to see Chateau de Chillon, a medieval castle built probably around 1005 or 1160 on solid rock on the shores of Lake Geneva. Lausanne and Montreux are french-speaking, and I know pretty much no french, so it was good to know most everyone spoke at least some english. The prices for everything were outrageous. We bought lunch at a little grocers and spent a small fortune on baguette sandwiches and juice.

We took the train to Montreux, through the wine country and beautiful vineyards just starting to come to leaf. We arrived at Montreux about an hour later. We found the bus stop but ended up taking it the wrong way. Eventually, though, we made it to the castle. It was raining, of course. It was very medieval. It rivaled Warwick Castle in England; not in size, but in beauty, antiquity, and, of course, the "coolness" factor. It's hard to explain the feeling of walking around something so old.

We returned that afternoon to Lausanne and walked around the Old City. It had stopped raining for the most part. Cathedrals, an old unused castle, views of Lake Geneva and the mountains, and narrow, confusing, cobblestone streets. Needless to say our sense of direction was a bit rusty and we got lost. It got dark before we found our way back to familiar territory and happened upon a falafel stand for dinner. We were beat and it was dark so we headed back to the hostel and crashed. Here are some photos of our day.




The view from our hostel window, overlooking Lake Geneva. There really are mountains on the other side. I promise.






Lake Geneva in Montreux, right outside the castle. Check out that amazing bridge!






A bit of the front of the castle, with the clock, in the rain. The little hole on the left wall is where they shot arrows at attackers. We were inside this part of the fortress at one point and also saw the inner workings of the clock.






One of the main courtyard from above. In the rain. They were restoring the facade to appear as it would have in medieval times.






Another courtyard in the rain. Even with my rain jacket on, I am starting to get very cold and uncomfortable.






Just a cool shot of a little tower thingy. I'm looking down on it from one of the windows in the outer wall.






I can't remember the name of this room, but it was pretty cool. Jared looks to be checking it out pretty closely.






Another room. I think this was the dining hall. You should see the fireplace in there. Enormous. Right about now I can't feel my hands anymore. Even with gloves on.






The dungeon/foundations of the castle. What you don't see (I didn't get a good shot of it) is the giant rock that the builders didn't even try to conceal. They just incorporated it into the foundations.

Day One: Amsterdam, Netherlands

Saturday/Sunday

We left Colorado Springs for Minneapolis on Saturday. Along the way, we realized we had left our guidebooks (and a few other things) in the Jeep. The first of many frustrations! In Minneapolis, with a nice long layover, we took the tram to the Mall of America to a Borders and picked up new ones.

After the long flight from Minneapolis, Jared and I arrived in Amsterdam the "next day" (Sunday) for a long (6 hour) layover. We were tired, but excited to be in a new country. We had decided to take advantage of the layover to do some sightseeing. I had read the Diary of Anne Frank a few weeks before and was anticipating seeing the secret annex where she and her family hid from the Nazis. After some frustration with getting from the airport to the train station and trying to find a bus downtown, we decided to check out the Tourist Information center. Some folks from Britain heard we were attempting to see the house and they told us the line was about three hours long. We didn't have three hours, so we made the 20 minute walk to the house and simply stood outside for a while. I was disappointed, but it was cool just to see it.






As you might expect, Amsterdam is jam-packed with canals. It was a beautiful spring day and boats were out tooling up and down the waterways.






Here is the door to the office complex where Anne Frank's secret annex was located. It was up the stairs and hidden behind a bookcase.






The streets were crowded as we made our way back to the train station, then on to the airport to catch our flight for Geneva, Switzerland.

Meditation: The Weight of Glory

We are the condensations of spirit, sanctified sweat dripping from brows of sacred mountains. We are avatars of Solitude, hymns to Beauty, paeans to Misunderstanding. We are weary of ourselves, our failures. We play Atlas to the burdens of our insatiable longings and the weight of the consuming glory we have beheld but cannot express. Kyrie eleison; exaudi nos; miserere nobis.

Hike: Well, Sort of...

Tom and I attempted a hike Saturday. We drove up Old Stage Road out of the Springs, which is an unpaved forest road. It was a bit icy. We drove for quite a bit, maybe ten miles(?) before turning off another forest road to get to the trailhead. It was a bit rougher than the main road. We only drove about a quarter mile when we encountered a large pool filled with ice and water. For whatever testosterone-prompted reason, we attempted to cross it and, well, failed. The pool was very deep and the right front tire wasn't even touching the bottom. We looked at each other in disbelief before piling out Tom's side. I had to put all my clothes on including my wind/rain shell because it was so windy and cold. We attempted various methods of providing traction, all to no avail. We even tried jacking up the jeep to put rocks/gravel under the back tire, with disastrous results. After the tire was in the air, the jack started to shift and I called out. Tom got out of the way just as the jack fell over and the jeep slid closer to the pool. Tom checked the cell phone. No service. We kept at it until, suddenly, the heavens parted and an angel named Christine in a Nissan Xterra with a lift kit came bounding down the road bearing shackles and a snatch strap. We were out in about 15 minutes.

After the debacle took some of the wind out of our sails, we decided to keep it short and hike down to a nearby lake/reservoir. Here are a few unspectacular snapshots I took with my little Nikon point-and-shoot. (The picture of the fox is from when we were still near the Broadmoor neighborhood just before starting up Old Stage Road.)

Hike: Kane Gulch, Grand Gulch Plateau, Utah

Kane Gulch, November 25, 2007

I have been estranged from the desert, the red-rock country of southeastern Utah, since the autumn of 2006. It rained on me then as I lay alone in my tent before dawn in Owl Canyon nervously listening for sounds of flash flooding, and later that morning as I climbed out, covered by an awkward poncho, yet still damp and miserable, a tiny organism in the vastness of the Grand Gulch Plateau where hundreds and even thousands of years earlier, ancient puebloan peoples would have huddled together under alcoves and inside tiny adobe rooms that are now the many ruins I saw among the cliffs in those canyons.

Today, we were reunited. Kane Gulch begins as a nondescript cow pasture that opens and descends gently into the canyon. It is typical of canyon country with soaring cliffs, arches, windows, red slickrock, et al. “Typical” by no means suggests ordinary or uninspiring. The spirit of the desert cannot be described and quantified by mere land formations; it is in the dry air and deep polarized blue of the sky, the aroma of sage, the sway of the tamarisk in the wind, the cold feel of mammoth boulders in the creek bed, the morning shadows on vermillion cliffs, the history of prehistoric peoples who lived here and the vagabonds and misfits who found solace, beauty, and adventure here.

Several interesting waypoints can be found in the first five miles of Kane Gulch. Junction ruin, a small grouping of cliff dwellings positioned in an impossible-looking location in an alcove, can be found at the junction of Grand and Kane Gulches. Stimper Arch is located exactly at the five-mile point and isn’t magnificent compared to others I’ve seen, but was a nice destination nonetheless. The real gem of the canyon is Turkey Pen Ruin which sits in a vast bend in the canyon and consists of two levels of dwellings. Tucked against the canyon wall are the remains of several single-storied dwellings, many of them in fairly good shape with roofs and the vigas intact. A partially excavated kiva was here as well as a “turkey pen”, or the remains of a free-standing room apart from the cliff with vertical sticks and branches which would have stabilized the inside of the adobe-covered wall. The second level, a high alcove, contained more substantial ruins but it was closed to access due to a recent rockslide. The dwellings had become too fragile to approach closely. There was a plethora of rock art, both pictographs and petroglyphs hundreds of years apart. The dwellings were supposedly 800 years old, although some of the rock art, I believe, was dated to the ninth century(?). There were more ancient corn cobs here than I have ever seen, and lots of potsherds, a few bones, and other artifacts.

We ate lunch at the ruin before rounding the corner to see Stimper Arch and then climbing back out of the canyon. We saw only one other couple—backpackers on their way out—the entire day, and that was in the morning. The remoteness was palpable and, for me, very welcome. The desert, in my experience, offers what the mountains cannot, and that is barren, sweeping desolation, the epitome of impossible beauty, a vastness with a gravity so immense it could almost swallow a passing human soul.

"Again I am in the desert--the desert that I know--red sand, cedars, great spaces, distant mesas..." - Everett Ruess, 1932







We encountered some snow and ice here and there.





Morning shadows in the canyon.





Deeper into the canyon.





What looked like an arch was disconnected at the top.





The "Watchtower" at Turkey Pen Ruin. There are "peep holes" positioned inside the structure, strategically placed to view crucial points in the canyon.





The two levels of ruins: you can see the ones on the first level behind Kathy, and the watchtower at the upper right. More lay in the alcove behind the camera. The "Turkey Pen" can be seen at bottom middle.





The watchtower at Turkey Pen Ruin.





Some pictographs at the lower ruins.





The watchtower from a ways back into the Canyon.





A collage of some of the rock art we discovered at Turkey Pen Ruin.





Stimper Arch, where we turned around. This trail alone continues for miles and miles, probably filling at least a week of backpacking.