Via Alpina 1 Stage 7: Lauterbrunnen to Bundalp

For the first time in the trip, the day starts overcast. Chance of rain in the morning, getting dryer in the evening. Me, climbing right away, pretty much off the hostel door and up the glacial escarpment with interesting views back to Lauterbrunnen.

Lauterbrunnen from the other side

From here on I consider myself past the Bernese Oberland tourist trap as the route gets rougher and more remote. Sefinenfurkke pass ahead is considerably higher and more rugged than anything before, which is both welcome and not-so in this dark, misty weather, I think to myself as the fog takes over the scene. A long way to go yet for the high ground anyway.

Misty Alps

After the glacial side wall, and as usual, the trail levels out, this time to meet no less than a railway line. It’s not even a cog track, it’s just a regular railway track isolated from the rest of the network, it only connects with the cable car from Lauterbrunnen to give service to Mürren hamlet, allegedly the highest permanent settlement in Switzerland at 1600 meters. If there’s a road all the way there, it must be a tiny one and supplies are more conveniently brought in on the train:

People and supplies for Mürren

Mürren is a long street on the bench above the escarpment, super-touristy but also quiet, with virtually no motorized vehicles around.

Mürren

It’s while traversing the village that I get aware something’s not right. I’m not feeling well. I stop for a snack that I manage to eat but it doesn’t help making me feel better. I conclude it was not lack of energy. Whatever it is, it will go by itself, it will kill me or anything in between and only time will tell so I keep walking.

Out of Mürren, I share the trail with some backpacker traffic. It may be odd but it’s the first time I meet other hikers looking multi-day, other than the thru-hiker I had met two days before. I guess it helps it’s a Friday and people may be out for an extended weekend. Meanwhile, clouds do some beautiful things.

Clouds across the Lauterbrunnen valley

Mist across the Lauterbrunnen valley

I keep climbing past Spielbodenalp, whose cozy restaurant and fireplace feel to me like the place I’d rather be. This is a definite sign I’m not well. I push on though but not necessarily to my demise as I still keep the safety net of another, more basic hut higher up. I hike briskly only so I get to Rotstock hut as soon as possible.

Rotstock hut

My distress has no clear origin. Nothing hurts but I find increasingly difficult to move and I feel cold and weak. Outside it’s cool, misty and breezy but nothing to justify my weakness. I suspect it might be some gastrointestinal thing but I have no evidence. At the same time, I feel I need some fuel. If one thing is clear to me at this point is that I don’t want to be outside, particularly while not moving so I’m happy to step inside the hut and order lunch.

When you feel sick, it’s important to indulge in whatever feels gut-right, even if it’s sausage or beer.

Lunch

The food is not particularly easy to swallow but I infinitely welcome the break in the warmth of the hut. I loathe going back outside but food’s over and I must.

Past Rotstock it’s the climb to Sefinenfurkke pass. It’s foggy and rather cold, which would be nice, if only for a change, if I’d be feeling well but I’m not. I sort of welcome that there are other backpackers on the trail behind me, they’re a comforting presence when I feel this vulnerable.

The trail is straightforward anyway.

On the way to Sefinenfurkke, even if there’s only void

The fog gets thicker near the Sefinenfurkke, giving the rocky environment a more dramatic look than any other trail section so far.

Rough ground and fog

The actual pass is a narrow notch on a rocky crest.

Sefinenfurkke pass

Sefinenfurkke pass

I miss the views but it’s really beautiful like this. It makes Sefinenfurkke feel more remote than it probably is, more so than anything so far on the Via Alpina and I must welcome that feeling that I’m missing a bit on this trip.

While it wasn’t the most welcoming of environments, I spent a nice few minutes at the saddle that helped me postpone my feeling sick. Now it was all downhill, starting this steep:

Sefinenfurkke pass, west side

Quick look back to the pass before it disappears in the fog:

Sefinenfurkke pass, west side, from the distance

Then it’s time to look ahead, even if there’s not much to see. The combination of mist, dark rock and steep slope is rather dramatic though. the paint stripes contribute the color.

Coming down Sefinenfurkke in the cloud

The scene keeps me entertained while I let gravity drag myself downhill. Walking becomes increasingly difficult. I wouldn’t still be aware of what was actually wrong but I was starting to have one thing clear: my body wanted to rest. Desperately.

At this stage it’s obvious to me that if I can make it somewhere with a roof today, I will. There is certainly no shortage of that along the Via Alpina and I should be able to find something within a walking distance that even my sick body can do. I just need to keep walking.

Slowly I get off the cloud. The first company I meet is sheep, the youngest are the most curious:

Young sheep

Then I can see the valley and I have a visual goal. Not sure if that helps or hurts.

Down this way

I need to make it down there. All downhill, I’d get to Griesalp. It’d be the easiest option but it also must be the only location along the Via Alpina 1 without some sort of budget accommodation. Anything that’s not budget must be very expensive in Swizterland so I commit to a slightly more ambitious target and set my goal on the Bundalp hut, on the way up to the next pass.

I want to get there as soon as possible but I also need a break. I’m not tired, it’s a different feeling, it’s a dire need to stop, sit down, lay down or anything down. My body refuses to move. When I do stop, I feel rather fine, no distress. This is interesting, it’s like my body is sending me a clear message: you need to rest. That’s it.

Here I recall the exact same situation, a long time ago, in my first and so far only trip to the Alps, when I pushed on for a village arrival after a night of vomiting and a subsequent day of feeling shit. At some point on that day, I stopped, laid down on the grass and I felt surprisingly fine. I even slept for some minutes before I got up and resumed my crawl downhill. Eventually, I got to town, saw a doctor who diagnosed minor intestinal distress. I then had a full day break and got better. Today it is exactly the same at this stage when all my body asks me for is rest.

I guess I could have set my tent up and do just that but I also felt safer and with a better chance of quick recovery if I got to the hut so I got up. At this point, it felt dramatic. I even stopped taking pictures.

It got worse when I had to turn uphill. It was only a couple of miles more but these were actually difficult. I really had to swallow this stretch as I was counting the steps.

Thru-hiking can be tough and eventually, at some time, it will. As with many other things in life, our brain tends to forget the hardships, it’s a self-protection strategy so we can do it all over again sometime. It works very well and it certainly does with me. Yet, if there’s one thing I do remember about the hard times that’s when I was sick on the trail. It’s as bad as it gets and it’s one thing I will not forget. It happened to me on the GR5, it happened on the Pacific Crest Trail too and every time was similar: no localized pain, just my body begging me to stop. It all worked out when I eventually did.

When the trail emerged onto the tiny road that climbed to the alp, I couldn’t do it anymore. I was almost there and all I wanted was to get there but I needed to stop again. I couldn’t think clear so I let my bodily needs do the thinking and I found myself squatting for comfort. I don’t generally find squatting comfortable at all but whatever. Then a passing car pulled off and their occupants asked me if I was fine. In a way, I was right when I said yes. It was comforting to be asked (thank you)

One final push. When I stepped into Bundalp it felt like I was squeezing the last bits of energy in my body. It was 5.30 pm.

There were no more pics taken on this day 6. This is Bundalp berghaus anyway:

Bundalp berghaus

Matrazen Lager is local for Dormitory Room

Cozy restaurant

Bunk room

I explained my condition and was quickly shown to a bunk room that I had to myself even though the only thing I needed was this tiny corner in which to bundle up and give my body an extended rest.

I slept for 14 hours straight.