We wish we could be truly ultralight hikers. But we’ve never managed to whittle our pack weight down sufficiently.

For the same reasons we pay to insure our car and home, we carry—even when dayhiking—enough gear to ensure we won’t succumb to hypothermia should we get lost, injured, or pinned-down by a surprise storm in the backcountry.

When we see hikers blithely skipping along with only slender hydration packs slung over their shoulders, we’re envious. But we know they’re carrying little more than water, a sandwich, and maybe a rain shell, which isn’t nearly enough to ensure their safety should something go seriously awry.

Imagine you’re hiking in the alpine zone. You’re 8 mi (12.9 km) from the nearest road. A rock shifts beneath your boot. You stumble, fall, and break your ankle. You’re shocked. You can’t believe it. You’re in pain and cannot walk.

Compounding your predicament, a thunderstorm is brewing. The sky blackens. The clouds drop. It begins raining. The rain turns to hail. The hail turns to sleet. The temperature plummets. You put on your rain shell and huddle against a boulder. But you have no rain pants, no extra insulating layers, and no emergency shelter.* You’re wet, cold, shivering. Uh oh.

Many deaths outdoors involve only minor injuries, and often no injury at all. “Exposure” is usually cited as the killer, but that’s a misleading term. It vaguely refers to conditions that contributed to the death. The actual cause is hypothermia: excessive loss of body heat. It can happen with startling speed, in surprisingly mild weather—often between 0 and 10° C (30 and 50°F). Guard against it vigilantly.

Cool temperatures, wetness (perspiration or rain), wind, or fatigue, usually a combination, sap the body of vital warmth. Hypothermia results when heat loss continues to exceed heat gain. Initial symptoms include chills and shivering. Poor coordination, slurred speech, sluggish thinking, and memory loss are next. Intense shivering then decreases while muscular rigidity increases, accompanied by irrationality, incoherence, even hallucinations. Stupor, blue skin, slowed pulse and respiration, and unconsciousness follow. The heartbeat finally becomes erratic until the victim dies.

Avoid becoming hypothermic by wearing synthetic clothing that wicks moisture away from your skin and insulates when wet. Food fuels your internal fire, so bring more than you think you’ll need, including several energy bars for emergencies only.

If you can’t stay warm and dry, you must escape the wind and rain. Turn back. Keep moving. Eat snacks. Seek shelter. Do it while you’re still mentally and physically capable. Watch others in your party for signs of hypothermia. Victims might resist help at first. Trust the symptoms, not the person. Be insistent. Act immediately.

Create the best possible shelter for the victim. Take off his wet clothes and replace them with dry ones. Insulate him from the ground. Provide warmth. A pre-warmed sleeping bag inside a tent is ideal. If necessary, add more warmth by taking off your clothes and crawling into the bag with the victim. Build a fire. Keep the victim conscious. Feed him sweets. Carbohydrates quickly convert to heat and energy. In advanced cases, victims should not drink hot liquids.

*When dayhiking, we always pack a 5-ounce, sil-nylon tarp that we can use to quickly erect a shelter big enough to cover us both. Each of us also carries a small, bum pad made of closed-cell foam, and a waterproof, breathable, SOL Escape bivvy sack that weighs only 8 ounces. These, plus a waterfproof shell and pants, insulating hat and gloves, midweight fleece tights, and an expedition-weight fleece top, comprise an effective yet reasonably light, compact, insurance policy against hypothermia. Total weight: approximately 3.5 lbs per person.

Of the countless things we learned, or were reminded of, on our recent journey, here’s what springs to mind. Nothing profound. These are just simple, personal realizations. If they resonate with you, if they serve as a cairn along your path, then expressing them here will have been worthwhile.

(1) We could hike forever. We didn’t want to stop. We would gladly have continued, even if that meant living in our rented campervan that afforded less than 100 sq ft of space for the two of us and our gear. But creating books involves more than hiking, so we had no choice but to return to a life in which we spend twice as much time pounding our computer keyboards as we do pounding trails. People say, “If you make your passion your work, you’ll lose the passion.” That’s a myth parroted by passionless people who know nothing of passion. Our passion for hiking continues to intensify. Making it our work was what lit us on fire. And constantly reminding ourselves that life is a finite experience keeps us stoking that fire.

(2) Our needs are few and simple. Health, each other, nourishing food, deep sleep, agreeable weather, and wildlands to hike. That’s it. The swarm of concerns, the pile of possessions, the restricting obligations, and the frenetic busyness that seem to consume most people’s lives have, for us, fallen away. We’re completely comfortable—absolutely at home—alone in nature. Noise, crowds and urban bustle have become increasingly agitating. There’s a simplicity and focus to the hiking life—the way of the walker—that’s immensely fulfilling. Wanting so little feels liberating.

(3) We understand more by paying attention to less. Instant communication has created a world awash in trivia. Trying to keep up with it makes us shallow. But devoting ourselves to a passion is a way of piercing the surface, of learning more about one sliver of life by exploring it deeply from a committed, precise trajectory. It’s as if we’re sharpening ourselves, becoming more pointed. The finer the arrowhead, the farther and more accurately it flies, and the deeper it penetrates the target. Surely this applies to other passions, but we know it’s true of ours.

(4) Shared adventure fuels friendship. In the last few months of our journey, we met three couples with whom we hiked multiple times. The hiking itself was as much a form of communication between us as was conversation. Establishing a common goal, working as a group through physical and mental challenges en route, and accomplishing the goal together, we learned about each other instantly. And what we learned was not superficial. It was not merely each others’ stories. The essence of each of us became readily apparent to the others. And, because we all liked what we saw, we rapidly grew close. The result was a lasting bond we’re confident will endure. Thank you Paul and May, Viv and Phil, Marjan and Jan!

(5) Being is as important as learning. Our culture prizes learning. But being—that elusive state of presence in which we flood our full awareness into the here and now—is equally vital. Much of our journey was less about learning and more about allowing ourselves the freedom to just be. We’re walkers. By walking most days for eight months—flooding our attention into the rock underfoot, the sky overhead, the peak beyond, the cliff below, the vegetation all around—we achieved nearly absolute contentment. It’s different than the gratification that comes from learning. And we value it just as much.

Thanks for following us.

We’re now hiking in Spain, where the people we’ve met have been as warm as the weather, and the weather’s been beautiful. Just inland from the Costa Dorada is a compact mountain range near Tortosa called Els Ports, where we hoped to find good hiking but instead found a wealth of sensational hiking. We’ll tell you about it in our upcoming post next week. (To enlarge a photo, click on it once. To enlarge fully, click on it again.)

1. Col du Gran St. Bernard  (Italian/Swiss Border, between Aosta and Verbier)

2. Sentier de Chamois  (Verbier, Val de Bagnes, Valais)

3. Pas de Chevres  (Arolla, Val D’Herens, Valais)

4. Bisse du Ro  (Crans-Montana, Wildstruble, Central Valais)

5. Bisse du Lens  (Crans-Montana, Wildstruble, Central Valais)

6. Cabane du Grand Mountet  (Zinal, Val d’Anniviers, Valais)

7. Rifflealp to Gornergrat  (Zermatt, Mattertal Valley, Valais)

8. Kreuzboden to Saas Almagell  (Saas Almagel, Saastal Valley, Valais)

9. Faulhorn  (Between Interlaken and Grindelwald, Berner Oberland)

10. Jungfraujoch / Eiger Trail  (Above Kleine Scheidegg, Berner Oberland)

11. Rhonegletscher  (Grimselpass, Berner Oberland)

12. Sidelhorn  (Grimselpass, Berner Oberland)

13. Tierberglihutte  (Sustenpass, Berner Oberland)

14. Albert Heim Hutte  (Furkapass, Berner Oberland)

• Skip below for notes about each of the these premier dayhikes, and to learn which dayhikes we suggest you not do. Bear in mind, our blog-post descriptions are not as complete as those we provide in our guidebooks.

• Continue reading here for our overall commentary about dayhiking in Switzerland.

The Opinionated Hikers, On Patrol for You

Determined to experience many of the Swiss Alps’ most exciting trails, we hiked fast and far nearly every day for three weeks. The scenery was frequently astonishing. It’s as if the human neck doesn’t have sufficient range of motion to constantly appreciate such massive, vertical mountains.

Most high-elevation Swiss villages are perched between 1400 and 1700 m (4592 and 5576 ft), while the peaks top out at 4000 to 4500 m (13,120 to 14,760 ft). So Swiss summits truly “soar.”

Our chief point of reference is the Canadian Rockies, and it was obvious that the Swiss Alps are another order of magnitude. A few calculations reveal the Alps generally out-soar our home range by 1000 to 1500 m (3300 to 4920 ft). So the Alps are more impressive as well as more challenging.

Starting at a Swiss-village trailhead at 1700 m (5576 ft), a trail will typically climb 1000 to 1200 m (3280 to 3936 ft) to a pass or col at 2700 to 2900 m (8856 to 9512 ft). As a daily hiking regimen, ascending and descending that much elevation is grueling. So most hikers pay (dearly) to ride the ski lifts, cable cars, cog railways and gondolas that corset many Swiss massifs. Or sometimes they ride the Post buses* that link nearly every hamlet in the nation. This eliminates the first 800 to 1000 m (2624 to 3280 ft) of ascent and makes constant dayhiking sensible (presuming you can afford it) and enjoyable.

The expense, crowds and commercialism of the most famous Swiss hiking areas do diminish the hiking experience in ways that the scenery—marvelous as it is—cannot compensate for. Still, the scenery is worth it. For example…

We cringed when we drove into the road’s end campground in Tasch and had to wedge our campervan within an arms length of other campervans on each side. We were rattled by the huge sum we paid to ride the train to Zermatt and the cablecar to Rifflealp. But that afternoon we were spellbound as we hiked into the icy embrace of Monte Rosa. It wasn’t a mystical wilderness experience, but it ranks among the most powerful sights we’ve seen in a lifetime of hiking.

If you’re a dedicated hiker coming to Switzerland, expect to (a) tug plastic out of your wallet about half the time you tug on your boots, (b) marvel at manmade wonders (such as the “Top of Europe” complex straddling the slender Jungfraujoch at 3454 m / 11,329 ft) while marveling at the mountains and glaciers, and (c) be alone on the trail rarely, and then only briefly. Unwilling to stride through those deterrents, you’ll miss much of what makes Switzerland a famous hiking destination.

But you’ll also miss some of Switzerland’s best hiking if you don’t venture away from the famous skiing/hiking towns. Several of our favourite hikes in Switzerland were on relatively obscure trails that departed highways crossing high-alpine passes.** From near Sustenpass, for example, we ascended to Tierberglihutte. It cost us nothing.*** There wasn’t a ski lift in sight. We saw other hikers but were alone most of the day. The scenery was riveting: one icefall beside the route, another beside the climactic promontory. It was one of our most enjoyable scrambles ever.

*In North America, “bus” is synonymous with “cheap.” Not so in Switzerland. The Post bus system is impressive in every way: modern, clean, yellow buses bearing the brass-horn logo; punctual arrivals and departures; frequent, daily service from early morning to late at night; vast service area including tiny, remote villages; and eye-popping fares that will empty not just your change purse but your wallet. We learned about Post bus fares when we wanted to hike beyond Goscheneralpsee to view the glacier bearing, 3630-m (11,906-ft) peak called “Dammastock.” The road from Goschenen to road’s end at Goscheneralpsee was a bit narrow for our campervan, we knew parking would be expensive, and we suspected the parking lot might be full. So, having already driven above Goschenen, we decided to ride the bus the rest of the way. When it arrived, the driver casually stated the fare: “32 francs.” We were stunned. That was the equivalent of $32 USD—for a mere 20-minute round trip for two people. We declined, of course, then drove away and hiked elsewhere.

**Some trails departing highways at high-alpine passes are obscure, but the highways themselves are famous among motorcyclists. They come from all over Europe to tour Switzerland. In summer, a constant stream of bikers screams through these high-alpine passes. The noise grates like… well, like hundreds of full-throttle motorcycles passing you at close range. It begins at sunrise and continues until after sunset. It happens daily, spiking on weekends and holidays. So study your map. Don’t choose a trail paralleling a highway. You want to put as much topography between you and the pavement as quickly as possible.

***It cost us nothing because we didn’t pay to drive the private access road to the actual trailhead. We hoofed it, free of charge, on a bypass trail, which increased our round-trip time by only 1.5 hours. Private access roads such as this are common in Switzerland. Though they’re signed and gated, you can’t see that on a map, where they look like any other road. Only by paying a sometimes outrageous fee can you drive past the gate. Our first encounter with such a road, we stopped at the “Private Road” sign. We waved down a car descending the road and asked if we could proceed. The driver, a local, assured us we could. (In hindsight, it’s apparent he meant the road would accommodate our campervan, not that it was free-of-charge.) So we drove blithely onward. Halfway to our destination—a lake named “Engstlensee”—we were surprised to reach a gatehouse, where a man walked up to our campervan and asked, “You want to see the lake?” We said “yes.” He held out his palm and said, “40 francs.” That was the equivalent of $40 USD. We were shocked. The entire road—from highway to lake—was only about 18 km (11.2 mi) long. We had to coerce him into letting us turn around without cost. He initially insisted we pay the entire fee for having driven just part way.

Dayhikes we recommend in Switzerland:

Italian/Swiss Border, between Aosta and Verbier

1. Col du Gran St. Bernard

Before driving from Italy into Switzerland via Col du Gran St. Bernard, Kath intently studied maps of the area. (She averages two hours of map study per day on a journey like this.) She saw a loop dayhike was possible starting at the col and suspected it would be excellent. Though we wouldn’t arrive at the pass until afternoon, she insisted we’d just enough daylight if we booted up as soon as we arrived. We did, and she was right. Walking back to our campervan at sunset, we agreed we’d just finished our favourite dayhike in the French, Italian, or Swiss Alps. Since then, we’ve hiked several more months in the Alps, and we still rank Col du Grand St. Bernard at the top of our list.

The entire loop is well above treeline, and it’s between the Mont Blanc massif and the extraordinary, 4314-m (14,150-ft) Grand Combin, both of which are visible. So awesome scenery is constant. Plus the immediate terrain is gorgeous: tarns, lakes and lichen-illuminated boulders amid rolling, green alplands and sculpted bedrock.

En route, you’ll overlook three, deep valleys and see numerous ridges. You’ll cross three cols and pass five lakes. From the 2757-m (9043-ft) Col du Bastillon, you’ll gaze across an abyss (Italy’s Val Ferret) to the Mont Blanc massif, specifically the Grandes Jorasses and Mont Dolent. Also within view is 3734-m (12,248-ft) Mont Velan.

Here are the stats…  Distance: 12.5-km (7.75-mi) loop. Elevation gain: 929 m (3047 ft). Hiking time: 5 hours. Bring L’Escursionista map #5, titled “Carta dei sentierei Gran San Bernardo.”

Though a paved, two-lane road pierces the Col du Gran St. Bernard, it’s easy to imagine it as the rough, isolated, daunting passage that, for centuries, was crossed by pilgrims, merchants, armies, and travelers. Straddling the road at the crest of the col is an historic hospice (a lodge run by monks) still in operation today. If you make reservations (www.gransanbernardo.it) and arrive on foot, you can pay to dine and spend the night there. In summer, many hospice-bound trekkers march up the steep trails ascending both sides of the pass.

From Aosta, Italy, drive national road 27 north to Col Gran San Bernardo. Be alert approaching St-Rhemy-en-Bosses. This is where the toll highway through the Gran San Bernard tunnel departs (left / W) from the small, no-fee, national road. Opt for the national road, which actually crosses the col. The tunnel is efficient but expensive (30 Euro one way) and prevents you from enjoying the scenery.

Upon arriving at the col, park on the Italian (S) side, above the SW shore of the lake, at 2445 m (8020 ft). Find the historic, stone mule-track just before Hotel Albergo Italia. It’s marked 103 and 13A. Follow it E, just above the N side of the road. In seven minutes, reach the road where it crests the col at San Bernard Hospice. Walk the road about 30 m/yd beyond the last building. Find the signed trail departing the left (NE) side of the road. The trail ascends gently, curving N into wild terrain, away from the road, which drops ENE.

You’ll soon be walking a gorgeous, ancient, stone path across the rocky slopes of 2889-m (9476-ft) Grande Chanalette. In about 45 minutes, reach 2716-m (8908-ft) Pas des Chevaux at 3 km (1.9 mi). Here you have a choice: (a) follow the main trail, which descends, or (b) fork left and stay high on a narrow route traversing steep slopes. Both options take about the same amount of time. They rejoin about 15 minutes below (SE of) Col du Bastillon. Option A is on a comfortable trail but is slightly longer and entails significantly more elevation gain. Option B requires you to be sure-footed on a rocky, airy route

(A)

• 3.25 km (2 mi)

• 0.5 km (0.3 mi) longer than option B

• gaining 200 m (656 ft) more than option B

Follow the main trail switchbacking down to the stream at 2400 m (7872 ft). Then ascend back up to 2500 m (8200 ft) on a grassy plateau between two tarns: Petit Le (left / W), and Grand Le (right / NE).

(B)

2.75 km (1.7 mi)

• 0.5 km (0.3 mi) shorter than option A

• bypassing 200 m (656 ft) of ascent compared to option A

Stay high on the steep, rocky slopes of Pointe de Drone. Contour at about 2550 m (8364 ft), gradually gaining elevation the last 1.5 km (0.9 mi). The path is about the width of two boots. It’s obvious but blazes offer assurance. Only in about 3 or 4 places might you need to use your hands for balance. In the 1800s, the hospice monks followed this path through Col du Bastillon to Val Ferret (1057 m / 3467 below), where they cut firewood, then hauled it on horseback up to the hospice. The path has been abandoned by all but the rare hiker who prefers a challenging shortcut.

Options A and B rejoin at 2680 m (8790 ft). The distance to this point—via the main trail—is 6.25 km (3.9 mi). Continue ascending NW to 2757-m (9043-ft) Col du Bastillon at 6.75 km (4.2 mi). The panorama here is spectacular. The Grandes Jorasses and Mont Dolent on the Mont Blanc massif are W. Grand Combin and Mont Velan are E. The quiet valley of Le Ban Darray is SW.

From the rugged col, drop steeply N, then SW on rough trail to the Lacs de Fenetre. Reach a junction on the NW shore of the largest lake at 8 km (5 mi), 2472 m (8108 ft). Continue S toward the outlet stream (2457 m / 8060 ft). Above the lake’s S shore, fork right (S) at 8.5 km, 2490 m (8167 ft). Ascend through scree to 2698-m (8850-ft) Fenetre de Ferret pass at 10 km (6.2 mi). Visible far below is the road you drove to Col du Grand St. Bernard.

Reach a fork about five minutes below the pass. Go left (E) on a faint trail traversing the grassy basin and crossing several small cascades. It climbs over a slender shoulder, descends sharply, then traverses again. Soon intersect another faint trail at 11.3 km (7 mi), 2515 m (8250 ft). Go right, descending SSE. This trail fades. At that point, it’s a steep-but-short descent to the road.

Intersect the road at 11.8 km (7.3 mi), 2385 m (7823 ft). Turn left and follow it to the avalanche tunnel. Hike along the tunnel, just outside it, on the downhill side. Shortly beyond the tunnel, cross the road and ascend left on trail. Within a few minutes, descend to Lago del Gran San Bernardo, where you began hiking the 12.5-km (7.8-mi) loop.

Verbier, Val de Bagnes, Valais

2. Sentier de Chamois

Verbier is a posh, ski resort. In summer, it’s very popular with parapenters and mountainbikers. But hiking is surprisingly limited here. There are, however, two Verbier trails we enthusiastically recommend.

Starting at Le Chable or Verbier, ride the gondola to Les Ruinettes, at 2192 m (7190 ft). Slightly below the gondola station, pick up the trail signed for Cabane du Mont Fort. It follows a bisse (historic, manmade, high-mountain, irrigation channel). Soon continue on the Sentier de Chamois. Massive, glacier-mantled, 3987-m (13,077-ft) Grand Combin dominates the view S. From Mont Fort at 2457 m (8059 ft), go SSW then SE along a spectacular, balcon trail (a contouring traverse of a steep, airy mountainside) to 2648-m (8585-ft) Col Termin.

From Col Termin, you can descend past Lac de Louvie (an impressive sight, far below at 2213 m / 7259 ft), then to Fionnay (on the valley floor at 1497 m / 4910 ft). From there, catch the bus down-valley to your starting point.

We suggest you decline that long, steep, punishing descent. Instead, make this a round-trip by retracing your steps to Mont Fort, then along the bisse to Les Ruinettes.

You can also continue beside the bisse in the opposite direction, contouring high above Verbier (which is constantly visible below) and enjoying distant views of Grand Combin. (From the gondola station, you must briefly descend a steeply switchbacking trail before resuming along the bisse.) But don’t follow the bisse all the way around the cirque, into the dense forest on the far side. Descend (on the network of roads and trails) to Verbier while the village is still in sight.

If you intend to drop from Col Termin to Fionnay, check the bus schedule in advance, then start early enough so you’re sure you won’t miss the last down-valley bus. If you intend to make this a round trip, check the gondola schedule in advance, then start early enough so you’re sure you won’t miss the last ride down.

While in Verbier or Le Chable, stop at the tourist office. Ask for the free, Valais map titled “Les Tours.” It’s a helpful highway map, but more importantly it indicates several 4- to 6-day treks or “tours.” It’s not sufficiently detailed to use while hiking, but it will help you plan where to hike.

Arolla, Val D’Herens, Valais

3. Pas de Chevres

Arolla is a tiny village in the upper reaches of Val D’Herens. The village is so unassuming, and the entire valley so raw, that it’s startling to come here after visiting the neighboring Saastal and Mattertal valleys, which are highly developed and whose reigning villages—Saas Fee and Zermatt—are world famous. There’s one dayhike from Arolla that makes driving 25 km (15.5 mi) up Val D’Herens worthwhile.

From the parking lot—immediately below the antiquated ski lift and just before the final switchback (right) to Arolla—walk the road ascending into the village. Then bear left and follow the road up to the charming, gorgeously-situated Grand Hotel Kurhaus. At the hotel, pick up the trail signed for Pas de Chevre and Col de Riedmatten. Heading generally W, briefly climb through forest into the alpine zone. 3637-m (11,929-ft) Mt. Collon walls-in the head of the valley. 3796-m (12,451-ft) Pigne d’Arolla looms nearby. The trail passes beneath Glacier de Tsidjiore Nouve. Ignore the right fork leading to Col de Reidmatten. Bear left and proceed to Pas de Chevre.

After gaining 855 m (2804 ft) in about 2.5 hours, crest 2855-m (9364-ft) Pas de Chevre. Here, 3870-m (12,694-ft) Mt. Blanc de Cheilon demands attention. The far side of the pass is vertical. Immediately below is Glacier de Cheilon. Two, 50-m (164-ft) steel ladders bolted to the rock grant passage to the boulders and scree below. From there, it’s about 1.5 hours (across the glacier and extensive moraines) to Dix Refuge (visible from the pass), or about 45 mights right (N) to 2919-m (9574-ft) Col Riedmatten. From the col, a trail descends back to intersect the one you ascended, thus allowing a circuit. But the view from the col is no better than that from the pass. Unless the prospect of descending the ladders thrills you, don’t. Instead, find a perch above (right / N of) Pas de Chevre and admire the icy, rocky vastness before hiking back down to Arolla.

Crans-Montana, Wildstruble, Central Valais

On the north side of the Rhone Valley, above Sion and Sierre, the mountains are known as the “Wildstrubel.” Though topped by craggy ridges, the peaks here are lower and the slopes gentler than elsewhere in Valais. We think the area looks remarkably like the Canadian Rockies. Within the Wildstrubel you’ll find numerous trails that afford an unusual and, in our opinion, fascinating hiking experience.

These trails follow “bisses,” which are historic, irrigation channels, some dating back to the 14th century. By the late 1800s, there were 1800 km (1116 mi) of bisses in Valais. Bisses made agriculture possible on dry, low-elevation slopes by transporting water from high-elevation cascades and streams. Many bisses have been carefully maintained for their cultural-heritage and recreational values.

Incredible daring and effort was necessary to construct a bisse, because it carried water from one canyon to another, often across sheer cliffs for long distances. This makes bisses exciting to walk. Some bisses are still in use, so you’re constantly walking next to flowing water, the sight and sound of which is soothing. And because bisses had to descend at a barely perceptible grade (the more horizontal, the farther they could carry water), bisse trails are virtually level, so they offer Swiss Alps hikers a refreshing change and welcome respite.

When you stop at a Valais tourist office, ask for their brochure “Hiking the Bisses.” Cultural geography intrigues us, so we briefly became “bisse hunters,” tracking down and sampling several of these remarkable trails. Bisse due Ro and Biss due Lens were our favourites.

4. Bisse du Ro

Bisse du Ro, built in the 14th century, has long sections in which there’s nothing but air beneath the bisse. You’ll be walking on wood planks suspended mid-cliff. The interpretive displays en route help you appreciate the dangerous travails of bisse construction and maintenance.

Drive to the ritzy, relatively new, resort towns of Crans-Montana. Stop at the boulangerie near the tourist office in Montana. It has a huge selection of superb breads and pastries. We’ve sampled the wares at hundreds of French and Swiss boulangeries, and this one was exceptional. (But we do think they should rename the shop “Wildstrudel.”) With your carb level topped up, on to the bisse…

From Crans, drive Route du Rawyl past Lac Etang Grenon. Continue W, ascending to Plans Mayens. The signed trailhead parking lot is on the left, at 1628 m (5340 ft). The trail initially descends through forest. Intersect the bisse in about six minutes. Turn right, and follow the bisse trail up-canyon. At 5 km (3.1 mi), 1760 m (5773 ft), reach a signed junction at Er de Chermignon. We suggest turning around here and retracing your steps to the trailhead.

It’s possible, however, to lengthen the hike by continuing (on road, then trail, but not along a bisse) to Lac Tseuzier, at 1778 m (5832 ft). It’s also possible to catch a bus at the lake, and ride back to Crans, making this a one-way hike, but  that would deny you the thrill of hiking Bisse du Ro twice.

5. Bisse du Lens

This two-hour round-trip hike is shorter than Bisse du Ro. And it doesn’t have Ro’s long, suspended, airy sections. But Bisse du Lens builds to a more climactic finale, because it leads down-canyon. After following a gentle, forested slope, it too becomes a cliffside wonder, then turns a corner and delivers you to a bench overlooking much of the Rhone Valley.

The vista is vast, beautiful, and instructive. The Rhone River supplied water for agriculture on the valley floor. But farmers on the dry, south-facing slopes at elevations just below this viewpoint bench had no means of pumping Rhone River water uphill. That’s why they risked their lives building bisses.

In the hamlet of l’Cogne, find the small parking lot at 1060 m (3477 ft). The signed trail begins just up the road from there, opposite recycling bins. Head S, past a few houses. Continue on unpaved road. It narrows to trail once it begins following the bisse. About one hour after departing pavement, arrive at the bench overlooking the Rhone Valley. It’s possible to continue following the bisse trail another hour, down to Chermignon d’en Bas, at 910 m (2985 ft).

Zinal, Val d’Anniviers, Valais

Summer 2012, the villages of Val d’Anniviers, extended a generous invitation to visitors. Every day you paid the tourist tax, for example on a campsite or hotel room, you could ride—free of charge—any ski lift or Post bus in the valley. Zinal, the preeminent village at the head of the valley, has a parking lot above a roaring river, where, in summer, they allow self-contained campervans like ours to park and spend the night, free of charge. So, at the Zinal tourist office, we paid tourist tax on—essentially—nothing. It cost us just 2.50 francs per day, per person, to camp free in the parking lot and ride the buses and ski lifts.

Zinal is a gorgeous village, well worth taking time to stroll through. Marion, at the Zinal tourist office, was one of the friendliest, most helpful people we met in Switzerland. The Zinal tourist office will give you a free, hiking-trail map: “Plan de Promenades.” Studying the map, knowing all the local transport was cost-free, we decided to stay several days in Zinal. In retrospect, we should have moved on sooner. This is the only Val d’Anniviers trail we recommend:

6. Cabane du Grand Mountet

The cabane (refuge) is popular with mountaineers. We jockeyed with more than two dozen of them while hiking into the upper reaches of Val d’Anniviers. Their goal was to climb the peaks comprising the cirque that rings the cabane: 3668-m (12,031-ft) Besso (SSE), 4063-m (13,327-ft) Ober Gabelhorn Peak (S), and 4358-m (14,294-ft) Dent Blanche (SSW). The icy faces of those peaks, and the engaging, cliffside trail itself, make this a premier hike.

The way is long and steep. Surmounting the 1200-m (3936-ft) ascent to the cabane takes about 4 to 5 hours. If that outstrips your desire or endurance, stop after gaining about 900 m (2952 ft). That will spare you the final, very steep push to the cabane. You won’t attain the climactic view of the cirque, but you’ll have seen enough to feel well rewarded for your effort.

The trailhead parking lot is at road’s end, shortly beyond Zinal. Cross the bridged creek to the signed trail on the right (W) bank, then turn left (upstream). 4221-m (13,845-ft) Zinalrothorn is visible SE. Cross a bridge to the E bank and begin the steep ascent on the skirts of Mt. Besso. Reach Cabane du Grand-Mountet at 2886 m (9466 ft).

Zermatt, Mattertal Valley, Valais

Like many mountains, it has dual citizenship. In Italia, they call it “Monte Cervino.” In Switzerland, they call it “the Matterhorn.” We hiked above the Italian village of Cervinia, expecting we could say, “It’s just as impressive from the Italian side.” But it’s not. It’s known the world over as “the Matterhorn,” because the Mattertal Valley, in Switzerland, affords the most striking perspective of the iconic peak.

Yet we can say this: The Matterhorn—even from the Swiss side—is an overrated sight compared to Monte Rosa, the sprawling, complex, multi-glaciered peak that lords it over the head of the Mattertal Valley. Monte Rosa, as the name suggests, straddles the Italian-Swiss border. And we inspected it from the Italian side, by hiking above Cretaz (a quaint village just below Cervinia) to 2775-m (9102-m) Colle di Nana. Monte Rosa is impressive from there, but from the Swiss side it’s overwhelming.

Hiking from Rifflealp (where the Matterhorn dominates) to Gornergrat (where Monte Rosa outstripped our esteem for the Matterhorn) is the reason hikers should drive up the Mattertal Valley and visit its “capitol” village: Zermatt.

Yes, Zermatt is among the most developed, famous, busy, tourist attractions in a country full of developed, famous, busy, tourist attractions. Nevertheless, we think it has charm and deserves at least a 45-minute stroll, ideally in evening, just before sunset.

Yes, visiting Zermatt and probing the mountains above is costly, even if you camp and cook for yourself, because only by paying to ride the train high into the alpine zone can you avoid the tedious, approach trudge and make the most of your precious hiking time. Ask yourself, “Will I ever be in Zermatt again?” If the answer is, “Perhaps not,” then don’t stint while you are there.

Yes, the trails above Zermatt are perpetually crowded. But the mountain scenery has such electrifying voltage that it makes the presence of other hikers tolerable. And even here, it’s possible to avoid the throngs. In mid-August, we left our campsite in Tasch at 12:30 p.m. By the time we hiked past Rifflesee, most hikers were already drifting down-mountain. On our final ascent to Gornergrat, we were alone, and the late-afternoon light on Monte Rosa was celestial.

7. Riffelalp to Gornergrat

If you’re not splurging on a Zermatt hotel, you’ll likely be lodging or camping at Tasch. The Mattertal Valley road ends at Tasch. From there, you must ride the train (or walk, which we stupidly did 29 years ago, and adamantly do not recommend) to Zermatt. When purchasing this ticket, also buy one for the train from Zermatt to Riffelalp. Upon exiting the train station in Zermatt (elevation 1616 m / 5300 ft), walk directly across the plaza and board the train to Riffelalp. On the ascent, the Matterhorn is visible from the train, but wait to photo it until after exiting the station at Riffelalp (elevation 2211 m / 7252 ft).

From Riffelalp, with the Matterhorn fully in view, hike S then SW to Riffelberg, at 2566 m (8416 ft). Proceed S, then SSE. Skirt the W side of the 2535-m (8315-ft) peaklet, so you’re farther from the train, closer to the glacial trench.

Follow signs to Riffelsee, a tarn at 2757 m (9043 ft). A 10-minute detour onto the nearby ridge will enable you to escape other hikers and photo the 4164-m (13,658-ft) Breithorn soaring just beyond the massive Gornergrat Glacier.

At the signed, Riffelsee junction, bear right. Follow the trail traversing the S slope of 3131-m (10,270-ft) Gornergrat, with the Gornergrat Glacier visible directly below. About 40 minutes farther, reach a junction at 2695 m (8840 ft). Ahead is the route mountaineers follow across the ice. Turn left (N) and begin a steep ascent on a seemingly minor trail.

Even strong hikers will churn for about 50 minutes before topping out on the 3095-m (10,152-ft) summit ridge of Gornergrat. But there’s nothing to obstruct your vision the entire way, and the view of Monte Rosa is wondrous. Turn left (W) on the summit ridge. Soon arrive at the Gornergrat hotel and train station. If, like we, you elected not to pay to ride the train all the way down from here, hike down to Riffelalp following the well-signed trail. At a brisk pace, it takes only about 1.5 hours. Board the train at Riffelalp and ride down to Zermatt.

The evening we were here, we “swept the mountain,” meaning we were the last hikers descending the trail from Gornergrat. We stayed left, descending mostly on bedrock, avoiding the trail paralleling the train line. Looking up, seeing the Matterhorn in silhouette, was thrilling. Behind us, the evening light on Monte Rosa was celestial. We reached Riffelalp shortly before dusk.

Total hiking time for our afternoon venture was four hours. Our total on-foot elevation gain was 884 m (2768 ft). Our total train-travel time was three hours.

The next day, rain dissuaded us from hiking Hohbalmen. These alluring, rolling, green benchlands are visible from Riffelalp and Riffelberg. Hohbalmen is beneath glacier-capped Zinalrothorn, at about 2600 m (8528 ft). From there, about twenty 4000-m (13,120-ft) peaks are within view. Among them are the Matterhorn, Taschhorn, Allalinhorn, and Dufourspitze (whose icier, eastern side is visible from hike 8, in the Saastal Valley.

The Hohbalmen hike is manageable without help from a train. Walk the pedestrian avenue up-valley, through Zermatt, to the Hotel Post. Follow the signed trail right, across Triftbach stream. Ascend to the 2741-m (8990-ft) highpoint at Schwarzlager, opposite the Matterhorn’s N face. Total elevation gain: 1125 m (3690 ft).

Saas Almagel, Saastal Valley, Valais

Summer 2012, the villages of the Saastal Valley (like those of Val d’Anniviers) extended a generous invitation to visitors. Every day you paid the tourist tax, for example on a campsite or hotel room, you could ride—free of charge—any ski lift or Post bus in the valley. That included the inside-the-mountain transport from high above Sass Fee, to Allalin station at 3500 m (11,480 ft). There’s no hiking from Allalin, because it’s at the top of a glacier, near the vertical, Michabel Wall. The view comprises immense glacial rubble, snow-moving equipment, and machine-scraped ice. Still, being whisked that high is an astonishing experience, and the view is sensational.

You intend to camp in the Saastal Valley? Just above Saas Grund is Camping Michabel, where your hosts will be a Belgian couple who are the very incarnation of “hospitality.” Their kindness, warmth and humour bolstered our faith in humanity during our voluntary exile among the dour Swiss.

8. Kreuzboden to Saas Almagell

Catch the Post bus near the entrance to Camping Michabel. Ride the short distance down-valley to Saas Grund. Then board the gondola ascending the valley’s east wall to Hohsaas, at 3200 m (10,496 ft). Spend about 40 minutes walking the very scenic loop immediately above the gondola station, beside the glacier. Then ride the gondola back down to Kreuzboden, at 2397 m (7862 ft).

From Kreuzboden, follow the signed trail generally S, then SE, toward Almagelleralp, above Saas Almagell. Views are constant, and the hiking is easy on this mostly contouring trail. You’ll traverse a scree basin and round the shoulder of 3395-m (11,136-ft) Trifthorn. Across the valley, towering above Saas Fee, is a spectacular massif comprising, from left to right, Allalinhorn (4027 m / 13,209 ft), Taschhorn (4491 m / 14,730 ft), Dom (4545 m / 14,908 ft), and Lenzspitze (4294 m / 14,084 ft). Dom is the highest peak entirely within Switzerland. The western section of the massif is known as “the Mischabel Wall.”

After wrapping ESE around Trifthorn’s southern slopes, the trail eases into Almagelleralp, at 2194 m (7196 ft). It’s blessedly undeveloped: little more than a restaurant and ski lift. From there, a trail descends through beautiful larch forest to Saas Almagell. But we recommend continuing SW on the trail from Almagelleralp to Furggstalden.

Between Almagelleralp and Furggstalden, you’ll cross suspension bridges, negotiate short ladders, and hike airy expanses of trail where fixed cables offer protection. It’s fun. And it’s relatively safe and easy, unless you’re affected by vertigo. From Furggstalden, at 1893 m (6209 ft), ride the ski lift down to Saas Almagell.

Regardless how you reach Saas Almagell, catch the bus from there, down-valley, to Camping Michabel.

Hiking from Kreuzboden to Furggstalden takes about 4.5 hours and entails very little elevation gain: about 200 m (656 ft).

Between Interlaken and Grindelwald, Berner Oberland

The eastern Bernese Alps, clustered around the Jungfrau and the Aletschgletscher, comprise 30 peaks exceeding 4000 m (13,120 ft) and shoulder much of Switzerland’s glacial ice. Hikers are inexorably drawn here, basing themselves at Lauterbrunnen or Grindelwald for several days of walking.

If you’re camping, we recommend the campground at Lauterbrunnen. It’s huge. It’s packed all summer. It’s expensive—and worth the price. The facilities are excellent and superbly maintained. The staff does a commendable job of serving everyone’s needs. The campground is deep in the vertical-walled valley, so the setting is beautiful and—despite all the campers—feels intimate. We nabbed a creekside campsite and slept like boulders every night. The train station is just a 20-minute walk from the campground, so it’s inaudibly distant yet conveniently close. We had no need to drive during the four days we stayed there.

If you’re tempted to base yourself in the car-free village of Wengen, bear in mind that a long descent via train will be necessary each time you want to hike elsewhere in the area. Plus the train clacks, screeches and rattles through the village, morning ‘til night.

9. Faulhorn

If you could devote but one day to appreciating the famous mountains above Interlaken, we’d recommend the 15-km (9.3-mi) hike from Schynige Platte to First, via Faulhorn. A train and gondola allow you to make it a one-way trip. The trail starts high and stays high. You’ll gain only 600 m (1968 ft) during the 6-hour hike. Panoramic views of the Jungfrau-massif peaks and glaciers are constant.

From the Wilderswil train station just N of Interlaken, ride the cog railway to Schynige Platte, at 1987 m (6517 ft). Upon disembarking, go left (SW) to the restaurant. Proceed onto, and around, the restaurant balcony. Just beyond and below the far side of the restaurant is a signed trail junction.

Follow the trail called “Panoramaweg,” which ascends over the 2069 m (6786 ft) Oberberghorn and grants a spectacular, aerial view of the  Brienzersee 800 m (2624 ft) below. Rejoin the main trail—Faulhornweg—at 2230-m (7314-ft) Loucherhorn.

Faulhornweg leads E, through intriguing karst terrain. To the S, are the celebrated peaks ringing the Grindelwald Valley: Wetterhorn, Monch, Eiger, Jungfrau, and Schrekhorn.

About 4 hours from Schynige Platte, contour immediately below Faulhorn. Perched on the summit is the oldest and highest hotel in the Swiss Alps. It was built in 1832. From there, the trail descends to Bachsee, at 2265 m (7430 ft), about 4.75 hours from Schynige Platte. The lake itself (actually a reservoir), and the road-width trail beside it, are—for those wooed by the local tourist hype—a disappointing sight. But the horizon beyond is grand. Across the Grindewald Valley are Wetterhorn (3701 m / 12,140 ft), Schrekhorn (4078 m / 13,376 ft), and Finsteraarhorn (4274 m / 14,020 ft).

Follow the road/trail from Bachsee down to First, which is the upper station (2167 m / 7108 ft) of Europe’s longest gondola (5 km / 3.1 mi). Ride the gondola down to the gorgeous village of Grindelwald. From there, ride the train down to Wilderswil.

From First, the trail does continue contouring to a saddle at Grosse Scheidegg, but the scenery changes little on that stretch. Better to end the hike at First.

Above Kleine Scheidegg, Berner Oberland

Construction of the railway climbing through (literally inside) the Eiger to emerge atop the 3454 -m (11,329-ft) Jungfraujoch was completed in 1912. So the centennial celebration was—lucky us—summer 2012. Normally, roundtrip train fare to the “Top of Europe” (apparently the Swiss do not recognize Mont Blanc as Europe’s highest peak) cost 195 francs (the equivalent of $195 USD) per person. For the centennial, they offered three days of unlimited transportation on all the gondolas and railways in the area, plus one roundtrip to the Jungfraujoch, for 225 francs per person. On our first, multi-month, dirt-bag journey through Europe together 29 years ago, we thought riding to the Jungfraujoch was an extravagance beyond our paltry budget. So we were grateful for a second chance at this not-to-be-missed opportunity.

Though the tunnel and train are engineering marvels, riding the train is actually rather dreary—dark, crowded, slow—except for the couple times it stops to let you peer through glass portals on the face of the Eiger. But the Jungfraujoch panorama is wondrous, in particular the S perspective, down Europe’s longest (22 km / 13.6 mi), widest  river of ice: the Aletsch Gletscher. What we enjoyed even more than the view, however, was hiking along the uppermost edge of the Aletsch Gletscher, immediately beneath the S face of the Monch, about 45 minutes to the Monch Hutte. We were among an international crowd: East Indians, Russians, Chinese, South Koreans, and of course many Europeans. The “perfect” weather—sunny, warm, calm—lofted everyone’s spirits, sparking a festival atmosphere. What none of us knew at the time: While we were on the ice, the temperature reached the highest ever recorded on the Jungfraujoch. (Go to http://www.wunderground.com/blog/weatherhistorian/comment.html?entrynum=87 to read alarming facts about how climate change has accelerated glacier loss.)

10. Jungfraujoch / Eiger Trail

The earlier you arrive at the Jungfraujoch, the more likely a clear sky will greet you. Plus, we’re suggesting you hike part way down. So start early. Be at the Lauterbrunnen or Grindelwald train stations no later than 9 a.m. Ride the train up to Kleine Scheidegg, then continue on the train to the Jungfraujoch. When you ride the train back down, get off at the Eigergletscher station (2320 m / 7610 ft). To your right, find the signed Eiger Trail. Follow it generally W beneath the looming cliffs of the 3970-m (13,022-ft) Eiger. In about 1.5 hours, after descending 704 m (2310 ft), arrive at the Alpiglen station (1616 m / 5300 ft). Board the train here and ride down to Grindelwald or Lauterbrunnen.

Grimselpass, Sustenpass, Furkapass / Berner Oberland

About a 2.5-hour drive E of Interlaken is a 180-km (112-mi) stretch of highway looping through three spectacular passes, each of which serve as high-elevation trailheads. On the N side of the loop is Sustenpass. From there, descend the Meiental Valley to Wassen, drive S to Andermatt, then ascend SW to Furkapass. About 10 km (6.2 mi) farther W is Grimselpass, cradling a lake at the SW end of the loop. Beneath Grimselpass and Furkapass is the Rhone Valley. The two hikes starting at Grimselpass, and the one from Sustenpass are superb. If you must eliminate one from your itinerary, skip the Furkapass hike.

11. Rhonegletscher

The Rhonegletscher is the glacier feeding the headwaters of the Rhone River. Departing the N side of 2165-m (7101-ft) Grimselpass, you’ll ascend about 2.5 hours to where you can overlook the glacier from a 2870-m (9414-ft) promontory. The culminating viewpoint is grand, but the trail itself is reason enough to hike here. Meticulously constructed, it follows an engaging route through beautiful, alpine terrain: grass, bedrock, tarns. You’ll pass a small, stone refuge shortly before topping out. Total, round-trip hiking time: about 4 hours. Total elevation gain: 755 m (2476 ft) including 50 m (164 ft) on the return.

12. Sidelhorn

Departing the S side of 2165-m (7101-ft) Grimselpass, the trail ascends high above Grimselsee (a reservoir fed by glacial meltwater) to the 2879-m (9443-ft) Sidelhorn. The ascent is aggressive but efficient. An athletic pace will earn you the summit panorama within 1.5 hours. To the W, you’ll see the enormous Oberaargletscher and, above it, many of the peaks that are also visible from the world-famous village of Grindelwald: 4274-m (14,020-ft) Finsteraarhorn, 4078-m (13,376-ft) Schreckhorn, 3701-m (12,140-ft) Wetterhorn, and the 3970-m (13,022-ft) Eiger. Instead of retracing your steps to the trailhead, loop back. Descend S, across the summit, to a signed junction. Turn left here. Drop through scree, into bouldery meadows. Continue bearing left, hugging Sidelhorn as you descend back to the lakeshore in Grimselpass. Total hiking time: about 3 hours. Total elevation gain: 714 m (2342 ft).

13. Tierberglihutte

From the trailhead just below 2224-m (7295-ft) Sustenpass, you’ll ascend 700 m (2296 ft) in 4 km beside the Steinlimigletscher icefall (right / W). You’ll top out at Tierberglihutte—on a glacier-surrounded promontory, where scrambling ends and mountaineering begins—in about 2.5 hours. (A “hutte” is a hut or refuge.)

As the stats suggest, this venture begins as hike but soon becomes a scramble. The trail and subsequent route are well marked, easy to follow. Though the scramble route is airy, actual exposure is minimal. Hands-on effort is necessary only occasionally.

The hike begins three switchbacks (two short, one long) below the W side of the pass. Here, at 1866 m (6120 ft), a private road (gated, fee required) ascends behind a restaurant. It leads 4 km (2.5 mi) generally S to the actual trailhead. Instead of paying to drive that short distance, park in the lot across the highway, and proceed on foot. Follow the trail starting on the right (W) side of the private road. It’s an easy, scenic, 45-minute walk. En route, you’ll pass Steinsee (lake) at 1934 m (6344 ft). The road’s end trailhead is at 2095 m (6872 ft).

The trail switchbacks upward across talus. It soon steepens into a route, climbing through rubble and over sculpted bedrock. About 45 minutes up, at 2430 m (7970 ft), be sure to go right on the red-and-white blazed route. Do not go left on the Klettersteig (via ferrata). Reach Tierberglihutte at 2796 m (9171 ft). The panorama includes 3447-m (11,306-ft) Hinter Tierberg (SSW), 3421-m (11,220-ft) Gwachtenhorn (S), 3503-m (11,490-ft) Sustenhorn (SE), and 3238-m (10,620-ft) Titlis (N).

14. Albert Heim Hutte

Within 2 to 3 hours, you’ll see most of the Furkapass alplands including glacier-clad Galenstock and the spires of Winterstock. Much of the way you’ll hike beside a glacier-born stream urgent to join the Rhone River.

On the E side of 2431-m (7974-ft) Furkapass, just 200 m (220 yd) beyond the hameau of Tiefenback, an unpaved road ascends 1 km (0.6 mi) to the trailhead. Instead, we parked our campervan in a pullout, beside the highway, next to a cascade (flowing beneath the highway via a culvert) at 2000 m (6560 ft). There’s a stone fountain between the pullout and the cascade.

Ascend the path right of the cascade. It quickly lofts you into a meadowy basin. Continue following the smaller trail nearest the stream. Do not turn left to cross the bridge spanning the torrent. Bear right and continue ascending past a tarn. A mere 2.5 km (1.6 mi) from the highfway, reach Albert Heim Hutte at 2541 m (8334 ft).

For solitude and an improved panorama, probe beyond the hut. Ascend S on the ridgecrest trail to about 2591-m (8498-ft). Either retrace your steps, or complete a circuit by continuing (bearing right) down the ridgecrest

Dayhikes we advise against in Switzerland:

Hotel Weisshorn to Zinal

We disagree with Kev Reynolds, who raves about this stage of the Haute Route. Even if you hike in the easiest, most scenic direction (up-valley to Zinal), the trail fails to excite. Crowds are constant from St. Luc to the hotel. The hotel is devoid of architectural appeal and constantly mobbed. The contouring trail beyond the hotel is road width, thus lacks intrigue. And the final descent into the village is on a steep, dusty, poorly signed, heavily eroded trail/route/road deep in forest. Between the hotel and the forest, the mountains visible up-valley are impressive, but they’re better appreciated from the trail to Cabane du Grand Mountet (#6, described above).

Zinal to Col de Sorebois

Even if you ride the gondola from Zinal, which vanquishes all but the final ascent for you, this hike is not worth the cost or the effort. The upper gondola station and restaurant are old and ugly. Yet they draw a daily crowd. The hike from the upper gondola station to the col is through a ski bowl: boring. Lac de Moiry fills the featureless valley on the other side of the col and therefore dominates the scenery. It’s not a lake. It’s a reservoir behind a huge dam. Important? No doubt. Beautiful? Definitely not. Yes, there are glaciers and peaks at the head of the valley, but they’re not fully visible from the col, and investing yet more time and effort to see them—by hiking up-valley above the “lake” is a waste of time.

Aletsch Gletscher via Rhone Valley

Driving into the upper Rhone Valley, NE of Brig, you’ll see Aletsch Gletscher billboards. They urge you to ride the cable car from Fiesch (1050 m / 3444 ft) to Fiescheralp (2210 m / 7250 ft). From there, it’s a 1.75-hour hike to a ridge, where you can continue hiking 1.5 hours SSW overlooking the 22-km (13.6-mi) Aletsch Gletscher—longest and widest in Europe. But the view is up-glacier. And the lower reaches of any glacier tend to be dark, rather than white, because they’re covered with rubble. If, like most of us, there’s a limit to how much time and money you can spend in Switzerland, splurge instead on the train to the Junfraujoch (#10, described above). There you’ll be above the top edge of the Aletsch Gletscher. You’ll look down on a vast river of gleaming, pure ice.

Trift Gletscher

The Trift Gletscher is in the Gadmental Valley, ENE of Innertkirchen. Hiking to the Trift is recommend in a “Best of the Swiss Alps” guidebook. Part of what makes the hike appealing is that the trail crosses the world’s longest suspension bridge. And part of what makes the hike difficult is the expense of riding yet another cable car. It ascends 1000 m (3280 ft), whisking you above the forest. Not riding is not a reasonable option. Devoting that much time and effort to toiling through that much forest—while visiting Switzerland to see the Alps—slashes your return on investment. You brought a war chest full of cable-car money with you to Switzerland? By all means, ride and hike to the Trift Gletscher. You’re budget conscious? Hike from Grimselpass toward the Rhonegletscher (#11, described above), or from Sustenpass to Tierberglihutte (#13, described above). We believe you’ll find either of those cable-car-free ventures just as rewarding as Trift Gletscher.

Click once to enlarge. Click again to further enlarge.

Long ago, the essential activity of our species was hiking.

Humans had to hike so we could hunt and gather food, so we could collect wood for fire and rocks to build shelter, so we could participate in our tribes’ great annual migrations. Hiking was critical to survival.

Today it appears hiking is inconsequential, strictly optional. But the opposite is true: Hiking is now more important than ever. The world needs more hikers, because hiking makes people better people.

Hiking Makes You More Creative

Anything that gets you outdoors—out of your home, your office, your car, out of your mundane routines, out of your fixation on trivial detail, out of the clutches of so-called news and shallow entertainment—makes you more creative. But most outdoor sports keep your conscious mind engaged. They can be thrilling, but they require you to fixate on technique and terrain, so they don’t let you go deep into yourself. You can’t hear your subconscious mind. Hiking, because it’s not a sport, allows you to mentally relax. Your subconscious mind becomes dominant. And the subconscious is your greatest source of problem-solving creativity.

Hiking Makes You Smarter

In a recent study, a large group of randomly selected people was given a task intended to exhaust their attention capacity. They were then divided into three groups for a 40 minute break. Group A went walking in a local nature preserve. Group B went walking in an urban environment. Group C sat quietly and read. 40 minutes later, they were all given identical proofreading tests. Group A, the nature walkers, did far better on the test. That’s because hiking both relaxes and stimulates the mind.

Hiking Makes You Healthier

It’s the perfect exercise: aerobic, low impact, inexpensive, gentle on the environment, viable at any age, so simple it requires no instruction. And hiking, because you do it in natural surroundings, is more than exercise. Hiking has the power to heal. Studies show that patients in hospital rooms with windows providing views of nature require less pain management and heal faster than do patients in rooms with windows overlooking parking lots. So you can imagine what a potent healing therapy it is to actually be in those natural surroundings, hiking through them.

Hiking Makes You Calmer

Hiking quickly makes you aware of your breath. You begin paying attention to the rhythm of your breathing. And breath awareness is an element of many forms of meditation. That’s why hiking balances and centers you, inducing clarity, focus and calm. Studies support this. Daily doses of “green time”— time spent outdoors in natural settings—alleviate symptoms of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).

Hiking Improves Your Love Life

Hike with your partner, and two things will happen. First, the locust-like swarm of details, obligations and responsibilities that typically keeps buzzing around you will not follow you up the trail. You and your partner will find your awareness returns to each other. You’ll begin enjoying each other more, relaxing into your love. Second, you’ll find hiking becomes shared adventure, which sharpens you and your partner’s sense of mutual purpose. It will bond you. It will galvanize your relationship.

Hiking Makes You a Better Friend

That enormous, infinite space, the great outdoors, that you enter when you go hiking? You can bring some of that space back with you, inside you. And you can offer it to others, in the form of openness, empathy, patience, compassion, simply being a better listener, all of which will make you a much better friend.

Hiking Makes You Happier

Hiking is fun. But the word fun doesn’t do it justice. When hiking, you’re admiring our planet’s grandest scenery, you’re exploring wild lands, you’re negotiating tumultuous terrain. It makes you feel intensely alive. It brings profound joy. Profound because it’s not just your joy you’re experiencing. It’s the pleasure of the infinite spirit.

Hiking Makes You More You

The excited conversation that begins at a trailhead when friends go hiking together gradually subsides into more personal, intimate talk. Sometimes that distills into discussion of loftier ideas, but it always slides into long periods of silence. So even if you always hike with friends, you often end up hiking alone. And if you can dive into that tranquility, if you can swim into that solitude, you’ll probe the depths of your soul. You’ll come away with a better understanding of who you really are and where you want to go in the larger journey of life.

Smart Breaks, Not Just Rest Breaks

Simply taking an occasional rest break while dayhiking isn’t enough. If you want to cover big mileage without physical stress, you need to take smart breaks.

Don’t just perch on a rock for a few minutes while you sip water and nibble a chocolate bar. Give your body all it needs to fully serve you.

(1) The more comfortably you sit, the more your body relaxes. Deeper relaxation = higher quality rest. So bring a bum pad.

bum pad

It not only cushions, it insulates. Five minutes sitting on a bum pad is worth eight minutes sitting on bare, rough, cold ground. You can make a bum pad that weighs only two ounces and costs only a couple bucks. Buy a sheet of 3/8” thick, closed-cell foam, then cut it into 16”x16” squares—or whatever size suits your physiology.

Here’s a 72” x 20” sheet of closed-cell foam for only $7.21: http://www.amazon.com/Texsport-Pack-Lite-Pad-72-20-Inch/dp/B0019KHLIY/ref=sr_1_5?s=sporting-goods&ie=UTF8&qid=1330788052&sr=1-5

Another advantage of a bum pad is emergency use. On a dayhike, should you ever have to bivouac due to injury or navigational error, a bum pad will reduce the misery factor considerably.

(2) Your leg muscles contract with every stride. Constantly contracting, they tighten and shorten. Flexible muscles allow long, fluid, powerful strides. So a smart break includes a few minutes of stretching. To stretch comfortably and effectively, you need to lie down. If you don’t want to flail around in the dirt, you need a backcountry yoga mat. Not a typical, heavy, cushioned mat. But an ultralight sheet of nylon fabric.

backcountry yoga mat

A tent footprint from a tiny, one-person tent is ideal. It should weigh only about 2 or 3 oz, if you cut off the extraneous, webbing and grommets. And if it’s anthropomorphic in shape (narrow at the head, broader at the shoulders, tapering to the feet), it won’t be bulky. The MSR MicroZoid one-person tent footprint is ideal. Originally retailing for $35, you can now buy one for just $10: http://www.amazon.com/MSR-Microzoid-Fast-Light-Footprint/dp/B000A8C60Y/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1330787166&sr=8-1

Refuse to stretch? Averse to yoga? Think of it as a down-time tarp. Don’t just sit on your bum pad during your smart break. Lie down for a few minutes, and relax completely. You’re not likely to do that on the ground. But you will, if you have your down-time tarp in your daypack.

(3) Staying hydrated is critical for optimal athletic performance. Water is essential. But supplementing your water turns a rest break into a smart break. We recommend Emergen-C. It adds subtle flavor, which ensures you drink more water than you otherwise might.

Emergen-C

Each packet contains 1,000 mg of vitamin C, zinc, quercetin and antioxidants to support your immune system; seven B vitamins, which boost energy naturally (no caffeine, no crash); magnesium to reduce cramping; and electrolytes to replace those you lose through perspiration. A packet of Emergen-C is virtually weightless. Bring four packets per person, per day. You can buy a box of 30 packets for just $7:  http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss/180-3508181-1277529?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=emergen-C&x=10&y=16

(4) Mid-hike refueling is very different than dining at home. Convenience, concentrated food value, and rapid assimilation are vital when hiking. That’s why Power Bars, Honey Stinger Bars, Luna Bars, etc. are popular. You probably bring power foods like these on every hike. You should. We do, too.

super food

But we’re increasingly turning to live, super foods for backcountry nutrition. The more we read about them, the more we’re convinced they’re superior. We recently discovered Navitas Naturals. In particular, we like their antioxidant superfood trail mix. Here’s what Navitas has to say about it…

“Trail mix was invented by ancient nomads who were experts at creating portable, high-energy snacks that withstood weather and did not need cooking. This bag contains 100% goji berries, mulberries and goldenberies that are certified organic, kosher, vegan, and raw.

“This antioxidant- and nutrient-rich combination will give you energy through the day on your next outdoor adventure. The health benefits afforded by snacking on this nutritious blend are superior to eating any of these superfoods alone.”

It’s remarkable how much protein these berries contain. Just one ounce of Navitas trail mix contains 19g of carbohydrate and 3g of protein. Protein is essential for rebuilding muscle.

A 4-oz bag of Navitas trail mix costs $6: http://www.amazon.com/Navitas-Naturals-Mulberry-Goldenberry-Antioxidant/dp/B000UW1C5U/ref=sr_1_53?ie=UTF8&qid=1330798397&sr=8-53

We hope at least one of these smart-break suggestions will help boost your energy, mileage and enjoyment on the trail, and ensure you return to the trailhead less depleted.

Walk on!

The Chelan Lakeshore Trail

On a recent trip to Washington State, we allowed a couple extra days for what we believe is one of the world’s premier backpack trips: the Chelan Lakeshore Trail. You’ll find a complete description of it in our book Hiking from Here to WOW: North Cascades. We hope the following field report will nudge you to pick up a copy.

Last winter left a deep snowpack in the mountain ranges of western North America. Trails that would typically be hikeable by late May remained snowbound this year. Lake Chelan, however, though wedged between lofty mountains, had been snow-free for several weeks prior to our arrival. And while unusually cool, rainy weather continued badgering western states and provinces, the conditions at Lake Chelan were ideal when we arrived: sunshine, blue sky, daytime highs of 25°C (82°F).

So Lake Chelan earns The Opinionated Hikers’ Seal of Approval for early-season availability. Yet there’s another, even more compelling reason to hike here: four-star scenery.

For the two or three days you’ll follow this trail—among stately pines, over exposed rock, past exuberant wildflowers*, in and out of lush drainages—the lake is constantly visible. So are the North Cascades rising abruptly from the far shore. Sometimes you’ll drop to lake level. Occasionally you’ll contour steep cliffs. Often you’ll rise over headlands granting a godly perspective of this 55-mi (88.5-km) long, inland fiord.

We’re continually surprised to discover Lake Chelan is not as well known as it deserves to be. On our way there, we stayed with friends in Kelowna, B.C., who’d never heard of it. After leaving Chelan, we stayed with friends in Seattle who’d never heard of it. “Where’s Lake Chelan?” they asked. It’s on the east side of the North Cascades, off Hwy 97, about 45 minutes north of Wenatchee.

The elevation of Lake Chelan is 1098 ft (335 m), which explains why it’s reliably snow free in early season. The peaks directly above rise to 5000 ft (1524 m). The water is 1486 ft (453 m) deep, plunging 388 ft (118 m) below sea level. Measured from the lake bottom to the height of land, it’s a deeper abyss than the Grand Canyon.

From the town of Chelan, drive to Fields Point Landing, on the lake’s west shore. Leave your vehicle in the spacious, secure (locked nightly) parking lot. Board the Lady of the Lake II, a tour boat that departs daily at 9:45 a.m. Disembark at Prince Creek, on the east shore. From there, follow the trail north 18 mi (29 km) to the hamlet of Stehekin (lodge, campground, store, cafe, bakery). Then catch the Lady at 2 p.m., returning down-lake to Fields Point. The round-trip boat fare is $40 per person.

On day one, we hiked 11.5 mi (18.5 km) to Moore Point. (That distance includes the 0.5 mi / 0.8 km spur down to the campground.) The total elevation gain on this undulating leg is about 1000 ft (305 m). It’s also possible to hike just 8 mi (12.9 km) and camp at Cascade Creek. From Moore Point, on the morning of day two, we hiked 0.5 mi (0.8 km) up to the lakeshore trail, then 7 mi (11.3 km) north to Stehekin.

It’s possible to catch the first boat, which departs Stehekin at noon. But why? We spent the morning doing lazy yoga on the old wharf at Moore Point. We reached Stehekin in time to slowly pick apart a locally baked cinnamon bun big as a frisbee. We caught the Lady at 2 p.m. We were back at Fields Point, loading our packs into our car, shortly after 5 p.m. A few minutes later, we pitched our tent and took hot showers at nearby Chelan State Park.

For more details about the Chelan Lakeshore trail (and other trails up-valley from Stehekin that afford several more days of fruitful exploration), purchase our book Hiking from Here to WOW: North Cascades. You’ll find it at Mountain Equipment Co-op, REI, Indigo/Chapters, Amazon.com, and right here at hikingcamping.com.

*The wildflowers we saw in early June, 2011, included lupine (purple), columbine (orange and yellow), penstemon (lavender), paintbrush (red), and Goat’s beard (yellow).

Greetings from southeast Arizona—land of furtive, illegal immigrants, brazen drug smugglers, grotty taco shops, sad, sun-beaten towns, swarming U.S. Border Guards, stealthy free-campers, and sky-island mountain ranges where the winter hiking is superb.

Thanks for continuing to check our blog despite our inability to post on schedule. We’ll continue trying to blog weekly. Sometimes, however, like the past two weeks, we simply won’t show up. It’s likely we’re in the backcountry, gaining experience that, eventually, we’ll blog about so you can benefit from it.

For now, we’ll resume offering suggestions on winter camping and hiking in Arizona’s lower, right-hand corner.

Since leaving Catalina State Park, just north of Tucson, we’ve yet to find a campground where we could settle in for a week or more. As we described in our previous post, Catalina is close to numerous trailheads as well as a wealth of urban amenities. It lofted our expectations too high.

For nearly a week after departing Catalina State Park, we free-camped. In good conscience we cannot tell you precisely where. We don’t want to anger permanent residents and land-management officials by initiating a steady stream of free-campers to any one location. We mention this only to encourage you to sniff out your own free campsites.

If you’re patient, savvy and discrete, you can find places surprisingly close to Tucson where you can sleep—free of charge—in your van, trailer or camper, and where you can comfortably remain all day without anyone taking notice of you—as long as it appears you’re simply parking. In other words, don’t deploy your folding table and chairs, fling your frisbee, fire up the barbecue, and act like you’re entitled to camp there.

The free campsites we found were quiet and beautiful. At both, we worked for a couple consecutive days on our book projects—jamming away on our computers, which are powered by the solar panel atop our trailer. And at both sites we were surrounded by saguaro cacti and enjoyed an expansive desert view.

Since our last free camp, we’ve stayed at three campgrounds:

Benson
We winced when we arrived in Benson. Actually we left immediately, drove to nearby Kartchner Caverns State Park, balked at the $25-per-night fee, shivered due to the higher elevation, then winced again upon re-entering Benson thinking “We can stand this for a couple nights.”

Hundreds of northerners beach themselves and their behemoth RVs in this depressing town every winter. Benson is crowded with “RV resorts.” The one we chose was small, cheap, cheerful. Others are sprawling and—to our astonishment—nearly full.

Why all these seniors choose Benson, we have no idea. Perhaps because it’s as sunny as other Arizona towns yet less expensive? Or is it the recently renovated Safeway that stocks Villa Dolce Gelato and hormone-and-antibiotic-free bison meat?

We stayed in Benson only because it’s central to some of the trails on our must-hike list. Yet our fellow Bensonites were obviously not hikers. And Benson itself is utterly nondescript. It was originally settled because of its proximity to several mines. The town is still staggering (forward?) because it’s beside a major railway and highway, and because all those seniors now moor themselves and their land yachts there.

From what we’ve observed, most RVing seniors who decamp to Arizona for the winter are absolutely satisfied if they have (1) reliable TV reception to keep them sedated during the chilly nights, and (2) lots of other RVing seniors to yak with while lounging during the perpetually sunny, toasty days. You could yak your life away in Benson. Many people are doing precisely that.

Cochise Stronghold
Hunkered into the east side of the Dragoon Mountains, the Forest Service campground at Cochise Stronghold is perfect. It’s small, embraced by the topography, beneath a canopy of trees, far from the lights and sounds of civilization. We wanted to stay several nights. But there’s only one trail there, and we recommend only a 6-mi (9.7-km) round-trip hike. As a basecamp for hiking elsewhere in the region, Cochise Stronghold is awkwardly located. Ambitious hikers will probably camp only one or two nights there, then regretfully leave.

Bonita Canyon
Chiricahua National Monument is astounding, for its bizarre natural features and for how accommodating it is to visitors—motorists, yes, but hikers even more so—thanks to the masterful work of the Civilian Conservation Corps. The Bonita Canyon campground, built by the CCC, is similar to Cochise Stronghold campground but slightly larger and a bit more comfortable (heated toilet blocks with flush toilets, for example, instead of unheated pit toilets). Entering the forested Chiricahuas after driving across the barren desert seems a miracle. Avid hikers will, if they slow their pace, enjoy three days of hiking in the Chiricahuas, so we suggest camping three or four nights at Bonita Canyon. The atmosphere at Bonita is so soothing that even non-hikers agree it’s a camping haven. As a base for hiking elsewhere in the region, however, Bonita Canyon is much like Cochise Stronghold: inconvenient.

Where Not to Hike
Being opinionated hikers, we occasionally warn our fellow hikers away from certain trails. Here in southeast Arizona, however, the U.S. Border Patrol has warned us away from certain trails, including some we’d been keen to hike. The reason? Though illegal immigration declined along with the U.S. economy, the percentage of illegals smuggling drugs has increased. Drug runners are desperate, therefore dangerous. Many are armed. Meeting an armed, Mexican, drug runner in backcountry Arizona is, to our minds, a more threatening prospect than crossing paths with a grizzly bear in the Canadian Rockies.

While returning to Benson from one of our hikes, we stopped at the Chipotle Mexican Grill in Sierra Vista. Several border guards were eating there. When they left, I followed them out and asked if they’d mind a few questions about hiking trails. They were glad to help but began by querying me.

“Do you carry a gun when you hike?” one of them asked. “No,” I said. “You probably should,” he responded. Our conversation was off to an alarming start.

Here are the trails they said we should avoid—even on a dayhike—because they’re frequented by Mexicans illegally entering the U.S. on foot:

Sycamore Canyon
The canyon actually crosses the border, not far from Nogales, which makes it a virtual highway for illegal immigration.

Atascosa Lookout
“One of our agents was shot and killed there,” one of the border guards said.

Joes Canyon
Another natural funnel for Mexicans seeking illegal entry to the U.S.

Chiricahua Peak
Judging by the map, it’s an invitingly gradual hike along a mountain crest. According to the Border Patrol, it’s equally inviting to illegal immigrants.

Miller Peak Wilderness Area
The border guards told us not to backpack there. They thought dayhiking was reasonably safe but said we should be out and gone by evening.

“I’ve been in those mountains at night,” said one of the guards, “and you can hear illegals all around you. The forest just comes alive after dark. They hole up during the day and move on after sunset.”

I wanted to ask why they thought we could safely dayhike there, but I’d already detained them too long. Besides, the Miller Peak area is where Kath and I had hiked all day prior to meeting the border guards that evening.

No doubt there are several other hiking trails in southern Arizona that are unsafe. Ask before you hike. Our experience is that the Border Patrol is the only source of accurate information. We visited a Forest Service office where we were told, “Oh, you should be fine hiking in Joes Canyon. I haven’t heard of any problems down there.” Then we met the border guards who adamantly said “Stay away.”

Southern Arizona is swarming with border guards, so you’ll likely encounter one in circumstances where you can ask for information.

Where to Hike
In addition to the southern Arizona trails we previously blogged about, here are several more we enthusiastically recommend. The Border Patrol told us we could hike them without concern, and our experience corroborates that.

Wasson Peak
West Unit of Saguaro National Park
8-mi (12.9-km) round trip
1837-ft (560-m) ascent
A mildly engaging approach to a summit that affords a startling view of Tucson, the Santa Catalina Mountains, Picacho Peak, Avra Valley, the Central Arizona Project Canal, the Tucson Mountains, Kitt Peak, Mt. Wrightson, and much more.

Tanque Verde Ridge
East Unit of Saguaro National Park
14-mi (22.5-km) round trip
2900-ft (884-m) ascent
Though the trail climbs over Tanque Verde Peak and continues into the Saguaro Wilderness, we suggest turning around shortly before Juniper Basin, which is at 7 mi (11.3 km). You’ll follow an airy ridgecrest the entire way. Views are constant—of sprawling Tucson and sprawling Mt. Lemmon.

Cochise Trail
Cochise Stronghold, Dragoon Mountains
6-mi (9.7-km) round trip
1100-ft (914-m) ascent
Enter a hidden world of salmon-tinted granite stones leaning in to one another: huddling, whispering, consulting, strategizing. This is the stronghold from which Cochise and his warriors battled the invading U.S. Army for a dozen years.

Ramsey Canyon / Huachuca Crest
Huachuca Mountains, Miller Peak Wilderness,
14-mi (22.5-km) circuit
3000-ft (914-m) ascent
Exotic birds, thus birders as well, annually flock to Ramsey Canyon. But few birders wander far up-canyon beyond the visitor center. On this ambitious circuit you’ll go all the way to and along the crest of the Huachucas, where the westward view is vast.

Chiricahua National Monument
Chiricahua Mountains, Chiricahua Wilderness
round trips, one-way hikes and circuits of varying lengths
elevations ranging from 6870 ft (2094 m) at Massai Point to 5400-ft (1646-m) at the Visitor Center
Truth is stranger than fiction. And the stone-hard reality of the Chiricahuas is stranger yet. Here you’ll see naturally-created statuary in an infinite variety of complex shapes. Equally fantastic is the trail network leading you into and among the rocks. The Civilian Conservation Corps built it in 1934. It still serves today. The engineering is brilliant. The craftsmanship superb. We marveled as much at the trail work as we did at the natural formations.

Rincon Peak
Rincon Mountains, East Unit of Saguaro National Park
16.4-mi (26.4-km) round trip
4242-ft (1293-m) ascent
The trail climbs through a chaos of gorgeous, granite boulders: cream and rose. It pierces a forest of God-like ponderosa pines, alligator junipers, and Douglas firs. Then it gradually ascends a mountain so high (8482 ft / 2585 m) and isolated (rising abruptly from the desert) it grants a commanding view of every major mountain range in southeast Arizona. The night after we summited, I dreamt—for the first time in my life—of piloting an airplane.

Last night we had a wonderful experience in Canmore, at the Alpine Club of Canada, where we talked with a group of enthusiastic hikers. Meeting so many fellow hikers at once was a rare and touching opportunity for us. Though their backgrounds were diverse, all openly expressed their passion for the outdoors, and—what most impressed us—all were genuine, direct, humble, sensitive, compassionate, and supportive of us and each other. No doubt they nurtured these qualities in themselves before their interest in hiking developed. But it seems the time they’ve spent in nature has strengthened their admirable attributes. Even if hiking isn’t entirely responsible for what we felt and witnessed last night, it clearly draws such people together. We’re grateful to be part of this tribe.

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