Walking Matters: Zermatt 8th – 19th Sept 2012 – Day 6

The Oberrothorn – 8.50 miles / Ascent = 746m / Descent = 1,502m

A change in the weather again today as we entered into a more settled spell that would predominate for much of our remaining time in Zermatt. In practice this meant generally clear, bright days, but cooler than at the start of the week with temperatures around the mid-to-late teens of degrees Centigrade – ideal walking weather, really, as long as an assortment of layers were carried.

Given the promise of good, stable weather conditions, we decided today’s objective would be the Oberrothorn, a fairly non-descript lump on the east side of the valley reached by taking all three stages of the Rothornbahn to the Rothorn Paradise at 3,100m and walking from there.

As mentioned, the mud-coloured, pudding-shaped Oberrothorn is nothing special to look at, but it does hold one notable distinction: the 3,415m summit is a superb vantage point encompassing views of no fewer than 38 four-thousand-metre peaks, and is gained by what is claimed to be the highest hiking trail in Europe. I didn’t count each of the summits and I haven’t checked the highest trail claim, but knowing the Swiss penchant for accuracy I’m not rushing to quibble these figures.

Plain it may be from a distance, but the switchback route proved to be an interesting walk with some amazing views on offer. Obviously, as we were undertaking a mountain climb, it was only natural to set off walking downhill from the gondola station – a descent of some 130m before the climbing began. We were heading for a junction of paths at small saddle marked on the map as Furggji, and all the while a helicopter buzzed disconcertingly close overhead, delivering building materials to the gondola station.

The route from the saddle to the summit of the Oberrothorn is another themed way – the Weg Zur Freiheit (the Freedom Path) – a clear path dotted at intervals with a series of stained-glass “eye” sculptures, each of which was adorned with information on different aspects of the philosophy of nature. Physical nature was also on display, as can be seen in this picture showing the valleys radiating from Zermatt.

From the saddle the route zig-zagged upwards almost without respite. Generally, though, the gradients were not too bad, the path was clear, and loose rock and scree provided few problems. In one or two places – avoidable viewpoints, in the main – there were some long, steep drops worth being wary of where a fall is definitely not recommended, as it would likely end your holiday there and then.

At our usual dawdling pace it took us about 1hr 45min to reach the top – a small, rounded rocky summit with 360° views and a fearsome drop off to one side. Many of the mountains around here are so high and difficult to reach they are outside the compass of most walkers, so it was quite nice to be standing on the actual summit of an actual mountain for the first time all week. It was also (we think) the highest point we have ever reached on foot.

It was pretty cold and windy on top, so we stayed for a few minutes to take in the views then dropped down a little way to find a more sheltered spot for lunch.

Afterwards we retraced our steps as far as the saddle at Furggji, then instead of returning directly to the top gondola station at Rothorn Paradise, we took the lower path towards the middle station at Blauherd – about another 45 minutes walking – before heading down to Zermatt.

We were back in town by mid afternoon. Although we had enjoyed our walk very much, we felt we had not made full enough use of the day. As the weather was good we decided to ride the gondola to Furi, have a drink, and walk back to Zermatt: a few extra miles added to the total, and a gentle warm-down in the late-afternoon sunshine.

Walking Matters: Zermatt 8th – 19th Sept 2012 – Day 5

The Matterhorn Glacier Trail – 6.50 miles / Ascent = 174m / Descent = 494m

Like yesterday’s predicted rain, today’s predicted cold snap arrived bang on schedule. And how: after basking in summery mid-twenties temperatures only a couple of days ago, we got off the gondola at the Trockener Steg to be greeted by minus 9°C. That’s right, over 30°C colder! It was like we had experienced some kind of reverse hibernation – sleeping through the warmth to emerge, blinking into a crisp midwinter.

We guessed this might happen, and made plans accordingly. We’d take the three-stage gondola from Zermatt all the way up to the Klein Matterhorn, have a look round, assess conditions and decide again from there. Unfortunately, the final stage gondola proved to be out of action – today of all days! – but conditions at the Trockener Steg seemed reasonably good for walking if a bit on the chilly side. However, we’d donned plenty of cold weather layers and packed more in our rucksacks, so we thought we’d give the Matterhorn Glacier Trail a try and see how we got on.

This trail – another themed walk – runs between the Trockener Steg and Schwarzsee along the edge of the Theodul and Furgg glaciers, and proved to be the “new” path we’d spotted a couple of days before on the way up to the Hörnlihütte. It’s not shown on our copy of the map, but is on newer editions.

We set off well wrapped up against the bitter cold on an undulating path across rocky moraine that wound it’s way between small ponds and the foot of the glaciers. Yesterday’s dusting of snow had frozen hard, cementing the loose stones together and covering the trail.

But painted markers helped guide us through the maze of bumps and troughs, as did the occasional information board outlining the geology and wildlife of this inhospitable-looking landscape.

As we climbed higher, the skies cleared a little and the views steadily improved. We pottered along enjoying the cold and the stark terrain, whilst ahead of us the Matterhorn and the Hörnli ridge dominated the skyline.

The type of ground shown in the forground of the picture below is a common sight in glaciated areas. Although it looks more like the workings of a gravel pit or quarry, it is actually ice. Obviously not the nice, clean shiny ice and snow favoured by photographers and seen in the hanging glacier near the top of the picture, but ice comtaminated by millions of tons of rock flour, gravel, stones and boulders scoured out of the earth by the relentless pressure and unimaginable forces generated when glacier meets mountain - and mountain loses.

As we got closer, the path dropped down a rocky slope to reach the outflow of the glacier nestled tight below the Hörnli ridge. A functional metal bridge crossed the stream – the infant Furggbach – before a steady climb brought us out above the Schwarzsee.

We headed towards the gondola station, parking ourselves on a bench overlooking the lake where we huddled together against the cold to eat our lunch. It was a short, interesting walk, but we were happy to call it a day.

We spent the remainder of the afternoon wandering round town, poking around the shops in search of gear and souvenirs, hoping (and failing) to find an elusive bargain. When the gear on display in the shops comes from manufacturers like Arc’teryx, Haglöfs, Mammut, Mountain Hardwear and Schöffel, and you are shopping in one of the most expensive towns in one of the most expensive countries in Europe, bargains are at a premium. Still, it’s nice to indulge in a bit of aspirational window shopping

Walking Matters: Zermatt 8th – 19th Sept 2012 – Day 4

The Europaweghütte – 11.00 miles / Ascent = 314m / Descent = 308m

The wet weather predicted for today duly arrived, with low cloud and persistent rain being the dominant conditions (so not many photos today). Because of the bad weather I promised Missy G an easier day and that I’d take her out for lunch, opting to ride the Rothornbahn to Sunnegga and take a lower level route along the Europaweg to the Europaweghütte at the hamlet of Ottavan above Täsch.

The Europaweg is a reasonably well-known path, at least by name, but googling it provides few definitive details. One of the main reasons for this seems to be that it has been subsumed into the last stages of the Walkers’ Haute Route (Chamonix to Zermatt) and makes up part of both the Tour de Monte Rosa and Tour of the Matterhorn circuits.

It also suffers from being one of the most collapsible paths in the Alps, having been built and re-built any number of times, re-routed again and again, and had several thousand Swiss Francs worth of bridge “land-slipped” into the valley embarrassingly soon after completion.

Anyway, as far as I can make out the “official” route is a two-day walk along the east side of the Mattertal between Grächen and Zermatt, with much of it bimbling along around the 2,250m contour (give or take), and the section we undertook seems perfectly OK underfoot at the moment.

Despite the relative ease of the route, the views are reckoned to be exceptional, especially – I should imagine – if heading south. However the quality of views was immaterial this morning, with dense, low cloud and solid rain restricting visibility to little more than a few feet.

Arriving at Sunnegga, we donned full waterproof regalia and stepped outside into the downpour. We started by following a level track towards the hamlet of Tufteren, about a mile away. One of the plus-sides of walking in wet and/or foggy conditions is that you are naturally encouraged to focus more intently on what is happening close by. In this case, information boards detailing the variety of plant life in the area provided alternative interest, as did the occasional Black Squirrel or Black Redstart.

Beyond Tufteren we left the track for a hillside path rising gently towards the 2,350m contour before levelling out again. We pottered along (ignoring any side paths), and apart from a couple of short, rockier sections, there was little to disturb the regular rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other.

About half an hour before reaching Ottavan, the path swung east into a deep ravine cut by the Täschbach. The cloud began to clear a fraction, and we could hear the rain bolstered torrent roaring through the gully down below us. As I was fiddling about trying to take a photograph, Missy G went on in front – accidentally disturbing a Chamois on the path up ahead. I arrived in time to see it bounding up the steep hillside as easily as if it were covering flat ground.

Nearing Ottavan, we crossed the bridge over the stream, and crossed our fingers that the Europaweghütte would be open. Being near the end of the season, we reckoned it best not to take such things for granted. But there was no need to worry, and soon we were ensconced in a cosy fug with our wet clothes drying out before the warm stove.

It is often said that drastic situations required drastic remedies. That being the case it wasn’t long before two large plates of potato Rösti, each topped with a perfect fried egg, adorned the table in front of us. It is also said that calories consumed at altitude don’t count: of course that may be a bit of a fib, but we chose to believe it anyway. In case you’re not sure what a Rösti is and are worried you might not recognise this plateful of fried carbohydrate should you encounter one, this is what it should look like (on the left). NB: in the interests of healthy eating I don't know what the green stuff is, but you could probably get it without if you ask nicely. 

Back outside there were signs the weather was improving, with the rain having abated to little more than a light drizzle. All we had to do was retrace our steps along the Europaweg. Part way back, the cloud thinned enough for us to see into the valley, and we were rewarded by the sight of a dozen or more Chamois bounding down the hillside. A little later, two small deer were glimpsed between the trees: Missy G was having a good day on the animal-spotting front.

As we neared Tufteren again, we could see new accumulations of snow at higher levels, which could make things interesting for tomorrow. All in all, though, we were happy with the use we made of a wet day, although I got a bit of stick over the promised easy day and lunch out. I mean, which bit (apart from the easy day) didn’t I deliver on?

In the evening, we went to see a talk/slideshow/film presentation we’d seen advertised about a recent climbing trip to Patagonia. Introduced by Rolando Garibotti, the evening centred on an attempted winter ascent of Cerro Torre by two young climbing friends, Zermatt-based Michael (Michi) Lerjen and Argentinian Jorge Ackerman.

They may not be household names, but these guys are serious alpinists. Rolando is probably the pre-eminent authority on climbing in Patagonia, Jorge has tackled some of the most demanding routes on Cerro Torre and Mt Fitz Roy, whilst Michi first climbed the Matterhorn aged 11, and summitted an 8,000m peak (Nanga Parbat) without supplementary oxygen aged 18. If ever you get the chance to see them, go: it was a very enjoyable evening.

Walking Matters: Zermatt 8th – 19th Sept 2012 – Day 3

Hörnliweg – 9.50 miles / Ascent = 1,039m / Descent = 1,327m

Another promising forecast and the desire to make the most of this fine weather led us to choose this walk to the Hörnlihütte (3,260m) from Schwarzsee. The Hörnlihütte makes for a satisfying objective: perched on the side of the Matterhorn, it’s location alone gives it the feel of a serious mountain day out, let alone the enjoyably gnarly route required to get there. There’s more than a bit of effort required – even though it’s not a particularly long walk taken simply as a there-and-back outing – with enough ascent to provide a challenge given the altitude.

The usual launch pad for tackling the Hörnliweg is Schwarzsee, a small lake at around 2,580m conveniently served by a two-stage gondola ride from Zermatt. We arrived at about 9.30am, and already there were plenty of people about. It’s a popular route, and on days like this it’s best to expect company.

The little lake of Schwarzsee lies just down from the gondola station at the foot of a rocky rib that extends from the Matterhorn. On the far side is the small chapel of St Mary in the Snow – of which more later.

A clear path leads beside the lake and soon begins to zig-zag upwards towards the ridge. There’s a short, flat section where the path crosses a streambed, then it’s upwards again to eventually level out near a small stone cabin (which can just be made out in the photo above).

From this promontory the views are extensive: not only back across the valleys and surrounding high mountains but to the base of the Furgggletscher (great word, that: how many more do you know of with three consecutive consonants the same?) as well. The Hörnlihütte is also visible from here, and for those not sure where it is, a sign points right to it.

The next section of the route follows a rising traverse along the side of the ridge. In places, metal walkways have been installed to span the missing path more indistinct sections of the route.

As we continued to rise, we could clearly see below us a path (not shown on our map) heading off towards the Trockener Steg, and we filed this information away for future reference. Before long, a final set of switchbacks led up to a nick in the skyline and we popped out on to the ridge.

From here, the way was clear. A distinct, undulating path follows the ridge – not along the actual crest, but on a safer, less exposed line to one side – and there are new views to appreciate over the Zmuttbach valley to the Dent Blanche (4,357m) and the mountains beyond.

After a fairly simple half-mile or so, we reached the base of the final climb – a series of zig-zags up a narrow fin of rock, weaving back and forth between the crags and eventually gaining the Hörnlihütte after some 300m of vertical gain. It’s not especially difficult, but the north-facing aspects can hold on to any ice and snow around and the sides drop away quite steeply. Think something like Striding Edge on an average 40° gradient, and you’ll get the general idea. It’s not quite as exposed as that, but a slip here would likely test your insurance cover to the full and bring a premature end to your holiday.

In the photo above, the path can be seen zig-zagging up the left hand side of the crag in the foreground, and there are some people there to provide a sense of scale. A side-on view (taken later in the week) shows the ridge and the final climb (marked in red) with the Hörnlihütte shown left of centre.

Last time we did this climb there was quite a bit of ice and snow about, which resulted in some uncomfortable moments. This time we were a bit more prepared: conditions were much clearer this time, but there were still a few slippery patches which we felt more confident about with Yaktrax on – although it must be stressed these are in no way a substitute for crampons should conditions require them.

Also unlike last time the route was pretty busy, and when we reached the hut we found out why: they were open! The top was crowded and full of people eating at the hut, so we drifted to one side to eat our lunch. I didn’t manage to get a photo of the hut, so here’s one from our previous visit in 2006.

The view today was like this.

The Hörnlihütte (3,260m) can be considered in one of two ways: either the last point before reaching the Matterhorn proper, or the first point on it. Either way, this is where many aspiring summiteers begin their adventures. For us, though, this was as close to the Matterhorn as we’ll ever get.

As we ate our lunch we saw a party arrive back down, at least one climber looking very much the worse for wear – badly sunburnt, exhausted and fixed with a thousand yard stare. It just goes to show, even in this day and age with modern equipment, techniques and information, the mountains will always have the last say in whether they let you summit.

The return route was a simple matter of retracing our steps. Shortly before reaching the Schwarzsee, we took a minor path to bring us out by the lake at the chapel of St Mary in the Snow. We popped in for a quick look round and found this picture on the wall.

Legend has it that two Italians were out climbing when bad weather descended. Lost and afraid for their lives, and having exhausted all other options, they prayed for safety - promising to build a chapel in thanks to the Lord if they were helped. Luckily for them, two Zermatt mountaineers happened along to rescue them, and true to their word they built the chapel on the very spot their lives were spared.

As there was a little time left in the day, we decided to get off the gondola at Furi and have a drink before walking back to Zermatt, adding an extra couple of miles. It had been another warm and sunny day, especially at lower levels, and the gentle trundle downhill was a nice way to relax and wind down after our earlier exertions.

Walking Matters: Zermatt 8th – 19th Sept 2012 – Day 2

Meet Me On The Gorner – 12.75 miles / Ascent = 760m / Descent = 2,174m

Another fine, warm day beckoned, so – armed with our newly acquired lift passes – we decided to take the rack railway up to the Gornergrat. Trains run every 24 minutes from opposite the main railway station in Zermatt, and take about 33 minutes to reach the top pausing at a handful of intermediate stops on the way (the Swiss, famous for clocks and watches, are nothing if not meticulous about their timings). It has to be said: there can’t be many more picturesque and impressive journeys by train anywhere in the world.

The top station, at about 3,100m, is not quite what you might expect. Surrounded as it is by a shopping and café complex, the twin silver domes of the Kulm hotel, an Observatory and a small chapel, it has a very different feel to most gondola top stations – definitely more shopping mall than ski chalet.

It’s fairly busy, too, even early in the day, with people milling about taking pictures of the fantastic views – including the ubiquitous, dominant Matterhorn and a multitude of glittering glaciers – and enjoying the tourist thing before catching the train back down again.

The “grat” part of the Gornergrat refers to the narrow ridge that extends eastwards from this complex towards the Hohtälli and a succession of higher summits beyond. A clear path follows the ridge for around half a mile to reach a minor top with a convenient flat rock to sit on, after which things get a bit less distinct.

It doesn’t take long to leave the crowds behind, and here you can get your bearings and take in the spectacular all round views on offer – including over the Gornergletscher to the Monte Rosa massif – in relative peace.

Besides a cluster of mighty summits, there are no fewer than 9 major named glaciers pouring from the icecap: awesome – in the true sense of the word – is the only way to describe it.

Retracing our steps slightly, we picked up a clear path leading down towards the Gornergletscher. Steep and perilous and slippery with loose rock, a fall here is not likely to be lethal (merely painful) but is not recommended. The grassy banks are covered in thousands of tiny alpine plants (at this time of year not at their best, but which in springtime must be glorious) and there are photo opportunities galore. Best to stop first to gawp, though, rather than miss your step.

At a comfortable pace it takes about 1 hour to reach the bottom, where the reward is a more sensibly graded path running alongside the glacier. After a brief rest, we headed left in the direction of the Monte Rosa Hütte.

The hut itself sits on a rocky buttress between two glaciers (centre left of picture above), and requires a glacier crossing to reach it. Although plenty were going for it, we didn’t have the skills or equipment required to take it on, and a crevasse rescue would be so time consuming. So we followed the path as far as we could, and found a rock to sit on – overlooking the confluence of two mighty glaciers – for first lunch.

For anyone remotely interested in Geology (in general) or Glaciation (in particular) this is an awesome place to be. Because of the massive timescales in which most Geological events occur and the devastation usually associated with them when they do, it is rare to be able to see Geology in action. But here you can really get a sense of it happening all around you, even as you sit and watch or walk amongst it. It’s a strange feeling, and hard to verbalise, but one which is at the same time both incredibly wondrous and slightly frightening.

After lunch we returned along the same path, past the junction with the path we came down earlier, and continued on a rising traverse above the Gornergletscher towards the Riffelhorn and the little lake of Riffelsee.

From the Riffelsee, a small lake in which the reflection of the Matterhorn can sometimes be seen, we headed over wet, grassy slopes towards Riffelberg. It was another warm day, but having completed the paths we set out to do in good time, we decided to walk back to Zermatt. We stopped at the Buffet & Bar in Riffelberg for a drink – a bit of a soulless, canteen-y type place but with one major attraction: a large terrace with tables and sun loungers all facing one thing. It’s big, and it begins with M: any ideas?

From Riffelberg we dropped off the plateau down a steep, zig-zag path across grassy hillside towards Riffelalp.

There are several routes down to the valley from here, but we wanted one that took us close to Zermatt. We passed the station (a stop on the Gornergrat line we came through on the way up) and picked up a path dropping through the woods. Now we were below the tree line, the shade provided welcome relief from the intense sun and warm temperatures matching yesterday. It was a very pleasant stroll, and we caught a glimpse of our first Black Squirrel of the holidays.

Crossing the railway line again, we entered the outskirts of Zermatt via the quiet suburb of Winkelmatten and weaved our way through the houses back to the apartment. We were pretty tired and perhaps a touch dehydrated after a long day in the sun, but had enjoyed a great walk and got a few solid miles under our belts as well – including, for the first time this trip, some at altitude.

Dinner (same as yesterday) and a quiet evening ensued.

Walking Matters: Zermatt 8th –19th Sept 2012 – Day 1

Where’s Wolli? – 9.75 miles / Ascent = 924m / Descent = 898m

There’s often a mild sense of disorientation associated with waking in a strange place for the first time, with a slight jarring experienced during the transition from light sleep to alertness. And this morning was no exception. Ah, yes: that’s where we are, the apartment that is to be our home for the next dozen days. Pulling back the curtain a fraction, I looked out: early morning sunshine was clipping the high peaks at the head of the valley, and the skies were a clear, unblemished pale blue. Our first full day in Zermatt was set to be fine weather.

By way of acclimatisation – both to the conditions and the unexpectedly warm weather – we opted for a fairly easy walk: from town, up and along the valley-side, down to the hamlet of Furi (where the annual Zermatt Shepherd Festival happened to be taking place) and back again.

We took a narrow alley from the centre of town that soon gave way to a switchback path up the hillside. At each junction we took the highest option heading south-west, passing through a tiny collection of houses and barns at Herbrigg to reach Hubel, a climb of about 350m.

As we gained height, views began to open up – firstly, back over Zermatt, then ahead towards the Matterhorn.

There was hardly a cloud in the sky.

In case the term “acclimatisation” appears a little dramatic, here are a few facts. The village of Zermatt sits at the end of the Matter Valley at an altitude of 1,620m. That’s a full 276m higher than the summit of Ben Nevis. From there, the lift and rail system can deliver you to around the 3,000m mark – well above the level at which medics advise us altitude-related health issues such as AMS (or worse) can begin to kick in.

The highest peaks in the area are then a further 1,500m or so higher still, with the high point of the Monte Rosa massif – the Dufourspitze, the second highest summit in the Alps (and Western Europe) – topping out at 4,634m. Of the top twenty highest Alpine peaks, no fewer than fourteen surround this valley.

So, as you can see, altitude does have a bearing in these parts, and the air is definitely thinner here than in the flatlands of the East Midlands where our home stands at a not-so-towering, oxygen-rich, 110m above sea level. And it’s not only about health, it’s also about not wanting to be seen struggling up the hills with all the nip, zip, lightness and speed of an over-laden, badly tuned traction engine.

But back to the walk. We followed a contour path along the valley-side, gently rising to skim the 2,100m contour, with the hamlet of Zmutt sitting in the sunshine below us. The trails were clear and made for fairly easy going, which was helpful given the surprisingly warm morning.

Gradually our bearing swung more towards the west as we worked our way into a side valley beneath the mighty glacier-ridden North Face of the Matterhorn. Here, the power of the Zmuttbach stream had been harnessed by man as part of a Hydro-electric power generation scheme, and dammed to form a small lake.

As it was still quite early, we decided to follow the valley for a little way – partly by way of a recce, and partly to find a nice rock on which to perch for lunch. The view towards the Schönbielhütte and the end of the valley proved enticing, and we would visit this area again in days to come. The constant dodging of waves of MTBers, however, was less welcome, polite as they were.

Retracing our steps, we passed through the confluence of paths that is Zmutt, crossed the river by a high bridge over the narrow gorge, and joined a tarmac road leading down towards Furi. Temperatures were now up into the 25°C+ range, definitely T-shirt weather, but which at altitude and with cooling breezes is definitely a recipe for sunburn – if suitable precautions are ignored.

The tree-lined road offered the first shade we had encountered all day, and with wild Raspberries growing in the roadside verges to provide a tasty, refreshing snack, we enjoyed the short spell of cool. These roads are largely traffic-free, providing easy going for walkers and cyclists.

It was party time in Furi. We stopped for a quick beer then caught up with the festivities. The Shepherd Festival was in full swing, with judging for the best sheep underway as we arrived.

It was also the “birthday” of Wolli, an illustrated character of sheepy heritage and star of several children’s story books, who made an “appearance” at the show – much to the delight of the hundreds of kids in the audience. I must admit it looks kind of scary to me, but the kids seem to love it.

However, it was time to move on. We picked one of the several routes back towards Zermatt, a steady trundle back to town passing through another picturesque hamlet – Zum See – on the way: a very pleasant, if un-taxing, first walk.

Back in Zermatt, we popped into the Co-op for a few supplies before retiring to our balcony to relax and read. For dinner, we rustled up a more-than-adequate Meatballs in Tomato Sauce and Pasta in our little kitchen, before taking a short evening stroll around town.