PASSING THE TEST AT THE SIFFENENFURGGE PASS!

It's good news!  My eyes were barely open before Anthony was dressed and heading down to Reception to get the latest weather update and find out if we would be able to take the high route option to Griesald. Fortunately, although we had heavy rain yesterday afternoon, and again in the night, the view was that the low lying cloud that was making visibility so poor in Murren would not be at the top of the mountains, and the way would be clear for us to cross over to our next destination of Kandersteg via the Siffenenfurge Pass at 2612 metres.  Our host at the hotel confirmed this with a phone call to the mountain restaurant at Schilthorn (well known to James Bond fans!) and we were good to go.  We ate a hearty breakfast, doubling up on our "piece" ration knowing we had a full day ahead, and were out the door at 8.00am.
Murren was indeed enveloped in cloud, and we walked through the streets of this quaint vehicle free village, dodging little boys on their scooters happily chattering together as they disappeared into the gloom on their way to school.
The exit from Murren was steep, but as we climbed the murkiness did begin to gradually clear.  We were quickly overtaken by two Swiss lads we had seen at Murren the night before, and it was reassuring to know that they too were making their way to the pass.   Soon we were above the cloud and and enjoying magnificent views of the mountain tops, floating on a sea of white cloud.

Above the cloud level and looking back towards Murren

 Soon the path began to traverse along the side of a scree slope, and as the stiffness from the day before subsided and the ground levelled out, we were able to get into our stride and speed up the pace, but not for long.  Drifts of cloud kept coming across our path, and as the scree turned into open meadow, it was very difficult to see from one red and white way marker to the next.  Anthony quite rightly reminded me of the necessity of staying close together, as should one of us wander off mistaking the path it would be very difficult to find each other again.  Eyes straining for the next way mark, we made our way steadily across the meadow, getting a start as a great moon-white face of a cow suddenly appeared out of nowhere!

After two hours we reached the Rotstockhutte, and decided to go in for a energising hot chocolate and a weather update.   Our two Swiss lads were already enjoying the enveloping warmth of the hut and a cup of tea, and the hut host spoke very good English so we were able to get an update on the current conditions.  Were we being stupid to continue?  Conditions, if anything, were worsening since we had left Murren.  His view was that the day was only going to get "uglier", however, if we were to press on quickly, and make the pass before the worst of the weather came in the afternoon we would be OK.  After a quick assessment of our boots (they got the thumbs up luckily!), he was happy for us to go on, suggesting that we sign into his log book and get the mountain hut at Griesalp to phone through to him when we arrived, so that a search party could be sent out if we didn't make it.  (Reassuring!)  The night before we had logged into Anthony's mobile phone the number of our destination, and the emergency number in Switzerland.  The Rotstockhutte also provided us with another number for the helicopter rescue service.  He explained that it was not the ascent that would pose the problem, but the very steep descent which would be dangerous if conditions worsened, particularly if the snow which had been forecast for the afternoon began to fall.  Should we "get a bad feeling" he urged us to retrace our steps to his hut, and spend the night there.  Feeling happy that we were figuratively wearing both belt and braces, and had put all sensible precautions in place, we took the advice we were given and quickly made our farewells and pressed on.

As we climbed higher, the amount of rain that had fallen the previous day was made obvious by the fact that the stony path we were climbing was now a small stream running under our feet.  I picked my way carefully, not wanting to have wet feet at this early stage in the day, with many miles still ahead of us.  The cloud lifted a little again, and we were able to enjoy wonderful sights, including a glimpse of the revolving restaurant on top of the Schilthorn, high above us at 2,960 metres, where Anthony helpfully informed me they serve Krug '56!  No champagne corks popping for me though - we still had 10 kms of hard work ahead of us, and a deadline to meet.  We had set a goal to be at the Pass no later than midday, to ensure we were up and over the Siffenenfurgge and safely tucked up at the Golderli Griesalp mountain hotel by 2.30pm at the latest.

Bond country - a glimpse of the Schilthorn summit between the clouds

Light rain was falling, but conditions were not too bad.  Eventually the rocky grass terrain gave way to scree, and looming above us was the reality of the Siffenenfurgge.  I could just make out two tiny brightly coloured dots half way up the slope, our Swiss friends, who seemed to be completely stationary on the horribly steep scree slope, but after watching for a moment or two I could see that they were moving, but painfully slowly.  This looked to my amateur eyes horribly like mountaineering - and not what I had signed up for at all!  I was a tiny bit relieved as we approached nearer to the base of the Pass to see that in fact traversing the scree slope was a barely discernible path, which zigzagged its way across its face, disappearing around rocky clumps before reappearing again, and then finally disappearing altogether well below the summit of the Pass.  There was nothing for it but to get on with the job at hand, and we began the slow and relentless climb, my concerns about ascending the Pass completely overshadowed by my greatest fear of all - getting down the other side!  Going downhill has never been my strong point!

Putting a brave face on at the base of the Siffenenfurgge Pass

After a gruelling 20 minutes, we made the summit of the Pass, and paused for hastily taken photographs and to refuel with our sandwiches before beginning the dreaded descent.  It was naturally much colder and we put on our waterproof trousers in preparation for the inevitable rain.  I realised suddenly that my hands were wet and horribly cold, and cursed as I tried to get freezing cold, wet fingers into my new gloves, jamming the fingers home and now really wanting to just get moving again and get warm.

I had deliberately managed to avoid looking over the ridge at what lay ahead, but now there was no alternative but to look at what was in store.  Literally hundreds of wooden steps had been dug into an incredibly steep scree and Anthony led the way down this extraordinary staircase.  I kept my eyes firmly fixed down at my feet and my mind focused on each and every step, not daring to look left or contemplate what could happen if I missed a step or stumbled.  If I began to let those sort of thoughts enter my head, the journey down would be twice as agonising and three times as slow.  Eventually the steps came to an end and joined onto a narrow path which wound its way down through a series of hairpin bends.  Again, I didn't dare look left or right!  However, eventually the slope became less intimidating, and in some places where the scree was finer and free of rocks, I developed an odd sort of walk/trot which helped loosen up the biting of tensed up muscles and made me feel I was at least covering the ground!  The path wound down and nearer to a raging river, before following alongside it and eventually levelling out into hill pasture, where the first sheep we had seen appeared, again wearing the requisite bells!   We took cover by a small farm building, by which time the rain was coming down properly, and paused for Anthony to change into dry socks before heading out into the rain for the final push - the thought of a warm fireplace and hot tea driving us on.

As is often the case, the final run home seems to take forever.  By now, both of us were feeling the strain, and my right knee was painful and feeling suspiciously hot.  We really needed to reach the Golderli.  The path had now turned into a gravel farm track, which relentlessly switched back on itself as it made its way down.  I was cheered by the sight of a hutte, with some unlikely looking customers by the door!  We contemplated stopping for a drink, but I was keen to push on.  I knew if I sat down now in a warm hutte you would never get me out again!

Calling in for hot chocolate?

Visibility was now awful, and I confess I was unable to muster suitable enthusiasm to fully appreciate the majestic beauty of the river, which had now swollen to a raging torrent, and was both an impressive sight and sound.  Buildings loomed out of the cloud, and I peered at each one hopefully - could this be the Golderli?  We had been checking and re-checking our notes, determined after our mistake from Wengen not to miss a vital clue, and sure enough the Golderli finally consented to come into view, its incongruous and disconsolate red and white umbrellas appearing through the rain and cloud.  The Golderli is a traditional mountain inn situated on an Alpine pass route from the Rhine to Lake Geneva and dates back to 1925.

Hot tea, a hot shower, dressed in Anthony's woolpower shirt and curled under two layers of duvet, and still I just couldn't warm up, until I literally sat on the raised hearth of the woodburner downstairs and consumed two glasses of the local tipple, "lutz", an odd but very effective mixure of extremely weak coffee and a good slug of the local liquore made from meadow herbs.  Local farmers enjoying a drink at the hutte assured us in their broken English that this is what they used to keep warm in the winter, but it was good in the summer too!  I agree wholeheartedly!  We exchanged stories with our new found Swiss hiking companions, who needless to say had arrived long before we did, over a fantastic dinner of consomme, sublime beetroot salad and parma ham, chicken stroganoff and pear tart, which I consumed with alarming ease!  The best dinner and probably the most well earned we have had in Switzerland so far. 

 

The Golderli Berhaus at Griesalp in the morning snow

After a long night's rest (we were in bed at 8.45pm!), we were keenly anticipating what were meant to be some of the most spectacular views of the entire trip as we crossed over into the Kander Valley via the Hothurli Pass at 2778 metres.  The conversation last night, as is often the case on these sort of holidays, revolved around the weather, which was steadily deteriorating.  We had a low route and high route options, and even a complete "opt out" option of public transport to get us to our next destination of Kandersteg.  Pulling back the curtains this morning, the latter looked the most inviting as the rain had now turned to snow, which would mean that higher up conditions would be dangerous, and even on the low route, visibility would be poor.  We hadn't come equipped for more than the odd shower, and our wet weather gear certainly would not have stood the test of 6 hours hiking in the rain, so we decided to opt for the bus and train option.  The Hothurli Pass with its promise of magnificent views across the summits of several famous mountains would have to wait for another day.  

This morning's view from our bedroom window

I will confess to a certain amount of relief at this decision.  It would give my knee a day off to recover, and clearly I wasn't equipped with the right clothing to deal with the sudden cold.

Kandersteg has turned out to be a real gem - a charming place surrounded by a crown of snow topped mountains, with even the sun deigning to reappear.  This is a walker's paradise, and with my knee now firmly encased in an incredibly unattractive but hugely beneficial elastic support, we took the cable car to Oeschinensee, a turquoise blue lake at the head of the valley.   We had the lake almost to ourselves, and enjoyed a delicious lunch out on the terrace overlooking the amazing scenery of waterfalls coming down from the sheer rock faces which surround it, gazing up at the mountain sides trying to ascertain the route which could have been ours if the weather had been more amenable.  

View from the cable car station at Oeschinensee

Beautiful Oeschinensee

Heading towards lunch by the lake

The walk back down to Kandersteg was a good test, and I am feeling very confident that with a gentle day today I will be back on form for our walk tomorrow.  Again, the weather will determine which option we take, but here we are definitely going to be spoilt for choice.

Blue sky again at Kandersteg