By the morning, I figured if we could handle a 7,520' pass in the pouring rain, we could handle a 7,485' pass in the snow. As S nudged me uphill on Saturday, I nudged him uphill on Sunday.
We did begin with a compromise to reduce the discomfort: immersion therapy from Engelberg 2,350' up to the Trübsee at the foot of the Titlis.
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| Can't remember if I had my eyes mostly closed or open for this one, but given that I could see out the windows, I'm guessing closed. |
We were greeted with misty mists and obscured views. What lay behind the clouds?
It was a remarkably consistent grade up to the Jochpass, where, given the weather, we paused at the middle lift station not for Apfelschorle but a cup of peppermint tea. The lift from Jochpass takes visitors all the way up to the glaciers on Titlis.
A decorated mirror in the restaurant said "Hallo, Sommer 2025"...
...while outside, snow was now dusting the snow that had fallen overnight.
To reach our destination for the evening, Berggasthaus Tannalp, we needed to hike partway up and around the Schafberg. The trail led up hill, but tilted disorientingly sideways, toward the steep drop off to the Engstlensee below, a degree of exposure that unnerved the acrophobe and was not improved by the falling snow.
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| Water avens or pasque flower keeping on keeping on... |
This photo is meant to show the steepness of the drop off to the left, as well as the upward steepness of the trail itself, but my cellphone camera flattens things out.
By this time, we were being pelted by Graupel (in English, also "graupel"), snow pellets distinct from hail and ice pellets. My prior experience with graupel was limited to Germany and Utah.
The Engstlensee, come to think of it, is in the canton Bern, the seventh canton of our hike. No, make that the eighth canton: Engelberg is in Obwalden. No, wait, the ninth: the Trübsee is in canton Nidwalden. We would spend the next day hiking along the ridge dividing Obwalden and Bern, but at this point we were done adding new cantons to our list.
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| Engstlensee |
Once we reached our highest elevation for the day, the exposed section of trail yielded to less anxiety-inducing terrain and curved away from the Engstlensee. Slush and puddles filled the trail in places, but once we headed downward, it became easier to keep our boots dry. It was interesting to experience the abruptness of the snow line: above it, graupel; below, drizzle.
The clouds were starting to clear when we reached these trail makers. They must be hard to see when they're under snow...
Look at that, it's sunny!
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| View back at the Engstlensee |
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| Viola biflora in its native habitat |
The horizontal strip of blue in the middle of the photograph below is the Tannensee, just beyond our destination for the day.
We took off layers and put on layers and took off layers repeatedly.
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| Taking photos before the jackets came off... |
The odd-looking succulent below is a "houseleek," genus Sempervivum (meaning "always living"), better known in the U.S. as hens and chicks. Don't know about you, but my cultivated hens and chicks never looked like that, and I'd never seen one before in the wild. Wikipedia says the name houseleek comes from Anglo-Saxon laec, meaning plant--i.e. these plants grow on houses--and Romans thought they warded off fire and lightning strikes.
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| White hellebore |
The rocks emerging from behind the clouds looked like pastries dusted with powdered sugar:
More houseleeks! I had a hard time getting photographs that were in focus. Note the bits of graupel on the flower petals. By this point, our jackets were back on, graupel was falling hard and fast, and the wind was making sure to blow the pellets into our faces. Whap whap whap whap whap.
As we approached Berggasthaus Tannalp, dozens of cows who had had enough of getting pummeled by snow pellets decided to call it a day. They headed down the road with us, seeking shelter under stable eaves and generally looking piqued. (No photos, because we were getting pummeled too.)
By the time we arrived at Berggasthaus Tannalp, the precipitation had stopped. I was impressed by how well the wildflowers withstood the weather.
Look, sunshine! The spots in the meadow are cows, no longer consternated.
Look, graupel! The weather changed in the blink of an eye, but the forecast for the rest of the week was for mostly sun. We looked forward to Wednesday, expecting to finally be able to see some of what we had been missing in the misty mists.
Ta da! A mere 6.2 miles, since we cut off a chunk by taking the Seilbahn up to the Trübsee, plus 2,150' ascent, 1,550' descent.
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| I finally figured out that if I pause my Garmin on Seilbahnen, Strava will draw the connection without counting the miles |
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