The pass of the day was the Pragelpass, at 5,086' and in our 5th canton, Schwyz, after which Switzerland is named. The hike was straightforwardly up, followed by straightforwardly down.
We had more rain and clouds on Friday morning...
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| S reading the fine print on a very large map |
We passed a lotta cows...
Up up up we went, through the wet grass...
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| Pragelpass thattaway... |
...past pooping goats...
...and eventually reached Pragelpass, where the sun finally emerged and so surprised me that I forgot to take any photos of the pass, the Alm where we had soup for lunch, and the first few miles of our descent.
Three miles down the trail, we crossed what had been dubbed on Komoot as "Wobbly Bridge," with one commentor noting that "a railing is missing and it wobbles alarmingly when crossing the creek." Armed with this heads-up, the acrophobe was totally prepared to wobble--but it turned out that the bridge was newly rebuilt, protected with cable rails on both sides, and wobbled not one bit.
Just past the bridge, we found a wild strawberry bonanza. We had seen strawberries most days, but this spot had the sweetest and most abundant berries of the whole trip.
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| S was lagging behind because strawberries needed to be picked. |
The trail passed through meadows...
...and woods...
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| Note the yellow diamond-shaped blaze. Trails were well marked. |
...before arriving at a large boulder- and scree-covered slope. Crossing this turned out to be the highlight of the day, due in part to the variety of colors, shapes, and sizes of rocks, the abundance of plants squeezing themselves into the most inhospitable of places, and a half-mile long stone path that had been meticulously laid across the mighty jumble of stones.
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| S near the top of a stone staircase |
Scree and boulders had never been more fun, but all good things must end, and we headed down through the fields toward Muotathal, our destination for the evening. Fields enable cutting directly across switchbacks in the roads, but when we were there, they were also enabling horse flies to suck our blood without mercy...
...so as we approached Muotathal, we traded trails for roads and enjoyed not being sucked dry. (As I type this post, sixteen days later, the scabs are almost all gone.)
For the past several days, I had secretly been carrying birthday candles in my backpack in anticipation of S's birthday, and today was finally the day to use them. But it turns out German-speaking Switzerland is a far cry from Germany and Austria when it comes to Kuchen and Torte. Indeed, their preferred dessert is more akin to pie (more about that in the blog post for Day 8). Until a satisfactory Geburtstagkuchen could be found, we made due with a Manner Waffel.
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| Happy bday, S! |
Ta da! 10 miles, 2,000' ascent, 3,450' descent.
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