Summiting the Bishorn: A Brief Foray into Mountaineering

This is a recap of the time I convinced Doms (aka my Adopted Swiss Uncle) to take me mountaineering up the Bishorn, a 4000m peak in the shadow of the much-loftier Weisshorn. This 2-day trek was my first foray into mountaineering.

Summiting my first 4000m peak!

Cool background fact of this mountain: it has two peaks, one just 20m higher than the other. In May 1884, a woman was the first to summit the mountain to the lower peak. Just three months later, in August 1884, a man summited the peak 20m higher, thereby making him "the first to summit." Apparently it took three months for men to decide that, no, women should not be the first to summit a mountain.

For the entire week leading up to the endeavor, my adopted Swiss uncle becomes my nagging adopted Swiss father. He drafts and re-drafts lists of essential equipment vs. optional, vetoes my hiking leggings so I buy mountain pants from Decathlon, runs over the plan + map multiple times, and repeatedly tells me to go to bed early in preparation. Ironically, despite the planning, we don't actually reserve the cabin in time. Both Friday and Saturday nights are fully booked, so we book Sunday night and I take the following Monday off from work.

Saturday night (the night before), he spends the night at his sister's house and I'll meet him in the morning. He looks up the exact train I need to take the following morning and write it down beside the packing list he leaves for me:

The detailed packing list and train time, prepared by my doting Adopted Swiss Uncle 

I was pretty excited to be carrying along an axe.

A final goodnight text from Doms, my well-prepared Adopted Swiss Uncle

SUNDAY: Zinal to Cabane de Tracuit.

Sunday morning, I catch the 9h13 train to meet Doms in Sierre, before hopping on the bus to Zinal, our starting point. 

Arriving in Zinal, it takes a few minutes to find the right path heading up toward the cabin but once on it, we set off. We hike together for an hour or so before accepting the long-established fact that my Adopted Swiss Uncle has very long legs and is very in-shape, so he will just be forever ahead of me. Trudging on alone, I have faith that he will wait if the trail ever becomes confusing (he usually does).

Once the cabin is in view, he stops waiting altogether. Fair enough; there's no more risk of getting lost.

I arrive at the Cabane de Tracuit nearly an hour after Doms. He's already checked in and shows me where the sleeping room is to dump our stuff. For those unfamiliar with Swiss "cabanes," they are essentially hostels built way up in the mountains. Everyone eats together and sleeps in the same room; you just have to bring your own sheets.

At the cabin. The back of Doms' spoon is pointing to our location.

MONDAY: Cabane de Tracuit to the Bishorn summit! (And also back down to Zinal)

At 5am, there is shuffling around the entire sleeping room of the cabin as people begin to wake up. Almost everyone will be making this same trek up the glacier. Downstairs, everyone is helping themselves to the breakfast offered by the cabin: bread, cheese, sandwich meat, fruit, muesli, milk, and yogurt. There is also a small coffee bar.

Before crossing the glacier, everyone attaches a pair of crampons, picks that dig into the ice so as not to slip, to the bottom of their boots. Most mountaineering boots nowadays have a small ledge on the heel to attach the crampons to. As mine were ordinary hikers with no heel ledge, I ended up having to use Doms' father's ancient crampons made before heel ledges were common. We get a few chuckles while putting them on.

Figuring out which crampons will work for my weebly non-mountain boots

Both wearing harnesses, Doms and I are attached by a rope. This is in case one of us falls in a crevasse, the other can stop the fall.

Crossing the glacier. Doms is on the rope ahead of me.

As we are only two people (typically you want at least three), we have to keep the rope quite long and taught between us, just in case of us falls in.

Weaving between these crevasses dropping hundreds of metres into icy nothingness.

Tightening the rope. You can see the crevasses behind him.

There are quite a few moments where Doms stops either to adjust something on the rope (usually tightening it) or wait for the group ahead of us to move a little further on. When that happens, I have the chance to slip out my phone to take a photo.

5am view from the glacier!

The final 200m or so is a significantly steeper section than anywhere else, and also where the altitude finally hits. While the weight of the equipment and physical labour seemed easily manageable at the start of the hike, it's now extremely difficult when even the act of breathing feels like it's making me sick. The last 25-50m, I'm completely nauseous. With pretty much zero high-altitude hiking experience, every step feels like I'm going to puke myself to death before reaching anywhere near the peak. When Doms tells me to 'just go slowly', at whatever pace I can muster, my footsteps become barely footsteps at all, each foot just barely pushing further than the last. (Later, Doms told me this was the point he was most worried I wouldn't make it).

We finally make it to the top before lunch.

We made it to the top!

Solo Backpacking Romania: Vampire Castles, Mountain Trekking, and Shitty Hostels

Standing outside of Peles Castle, Romania

PREPARATION

 Pre-departure preparation consisted of:

1. Researching Romanian cheeses

2. Researching hiking, via ferratas, mountain biking, etc. that's accessible by public transit

3. Realizing there's almost nothing accessible by public transit outside of Bucharest so contacting outdoor tour companies instead

4. Booking tours and planning daily itineraries for all 2.5 days in Romania

5. Finding and booking a hostel

6. Mapping out how to get everywhere

The "adventure company" I booked with was lovely. Since I'm only one person and this kind of tour often takes quite a bit of work from the guides, I decided to email ahead of time to ask which already-booked tours they had going that I could tag onto. 

No response. 

For several days.

Finally, I called instead and the slowest, sweetest, quietest man's voice answered the phone. Something about how he spoke gave the clear impression that this is someone who doesn't "internet" very much; this is someone who exists 100% in the physical here and now. Turns out the only other booked tour they had this weekend was Saturday, which couldn't really work for me because I was arriving around 1:30am Saturday morning so leaving 4-5 hours later for a day of physical activity probably wasn't the best idea. Also, what I was interested in seeing didn't completely fit the tours. I'd been expecting to skip some of the things but this man, in the middle of a phone conversation, crafted a completely new tour covering all of it for just 30chf more than the other tours. Also, the only payment accepted was either cash or a Romanian bank transfer (honestly I'm not surprised?).

Now. Ready for a recount of the worst hostel EVER?! 

WORST HOSTEL EVER PART 1

I typically arrange all the essentials before arriving. The booking site I use gives the option for late check-in after midnight, which I select. Flight arrives after midnight. On arrival, I find an email sent *while I was in the air* that they're closing at midnight. I show up anyway because it's now after midnight and everything else is closed. It's completely dead and locked. I start Googling hostels and searching the streets of Bucharest for anything open. Everything is closed, full, or >200chf/night (way outside my price range - only fancy hotels have 24h reception). 

By 3am, I start looking for grass patches and benches. 

By 4am, I'm laying on a park bench trying to fall asleep with one eye open. 

By 4:30am, a group of young men comes to investigate but runs away as soon as I sit up. 

By 5am, it is FUCKING COLD and I root around my bag for anything that will cover me. 

By 5:30am, a group of cats get in a small fight nearby. 

By 6am, pigeons start to show up and form groups. 

By 6:30am, I get up in search of coffee to warm up. 

By 7am, I am at the meeting point for my tour leaving at 8am. 

The tour van arrives 20 minutes late. At least the seats are soft and it isn't freezing anymore.

DAY 1: Peles, Brasov, Vampyres, and More

The tour guide is so excited about his job, I feel guilty for falling asleep in the van seats regularly. This man is truly the ideal person for a tour guide: happy, energetic, loves where he is, wants to get us excited about it, full of stories with plenty to say.

Peles Castle

Bulz, a traditional Romanian meal featuring local cheese and bacon cooked into polenta with an egg on top

Brasov

Bran Castle, the inspiration for Dracula's castle

A priest's box of tools for fighting the demons of Transylvanian folklore, including a wooden stake to drive into the hearts of vampires.

It's a full day tour, which is great. We also covered quite a lot of ground:

WORST HOSTEL EVER PART 2

I'd been emailing the hostel during the day to assure them I'd arrive much earlier tonight but hadn't heard anything back. I show up around 9, they are open, the woman working invites me in, and she assures me it will only take a few minutes. After a while, she tells me they cancelled my booking because I "didn't show" last night. I say I haven't heard anything from them and ask if they were ever planning to tell me that they cancelled my booking. She apologizes and offers the couch in the common area. I accept (it's now 10pm and where else can I go?), but she needs to confirm with her boss. 

I wait half an hour while she deals with someone else. I inquire about the confirmation, explaining I had no place to sleep last night either because of them and am not keen to repeat that. She then contacts her boss, who tells her I cannot stay on the couch because they can't charge for that, but they have beds available tomorrow night if I want to pay some extra. 

Is this a joke?!

Leaving the hostel around 11pm, once again with nowhere to stay, I receive a new email informing me of the cancelled booking. So they overbooked but didn't cancel my booking until after I showed up.

Is. This. A. Joke.?!

A PLEASANT END TO SHITTY HOSTEL PART 2

After 45min of wandering into, calling, and being turned away from numerous fully-booked hostels and hotels, it is nearing midnight and I stop into a 24h shop to find water. 

The cheerful old security guard in the shop discovers my Romanian is limited to about 4 words. I hear him talking to the two younger cashiers, who are giggling awkwardly and offering him helpful English phrases like "nice to meet you." I hope they don't start talking to me; I'm sure they are lovely but I am so stressed out right now and can't handle new social interactions that don't move me closer to having a place to sleep tonight, however well-intentioned they may be.

On my way to the cash register with water in hand, the old security guard steps confidently into my path with a huge grin wide across his face. 

"NIGH TO EAT YOU!" He shouts loudly and proudly. The two cashiers immediately burst out laughing, covering their faces and looking away in embarrassment. Briefly frozen in surprise, I can feel a smile start to work its way onto my face.

"Nice to meet you, too," I respond, and feeling a bit lighter.

"WHAT OH NAY?" He continues.

"Sorry?" I ask, confused, and glancing at the cashiers.

"What's your name," one of them clarifies, still embarassed.

"Ahh, my name's Anneke," I answer the security guard while handing the waterbottle and cash to the cashier.

"NICOLA?" he tries to repeat my name, "MAN NAME. NICOLA MAN NAME."

Everyone's laughing now but before I can say anything, the cashier starts scolding him in Romanian. I start to leave, thanking them for the water. They smile, wave, and I continue the quest for a bed while feeling much better.

The cheapest hotel I can find that still has room is a bit outside my budget (200 Romanian lei/night = 50 CHF = 75ish CAD) but I need a shower and a bed. By 1am, I am in a clean bed with an alarm set for 6 to get to my 6:30 tour on time.

DAY 2: Mountains and Cheeses and Communism Oh My!

The best way to depict this day is through photos because it was so darn lovely. To start, Nicu picked me up at 6:30 and we drove several hours to get into the mountains. Driving through tiny Romanian villages, Nicu told me about how the communities changed dramatically before, during, and after foreign occupation, communism, and the following onslaught of capitalism. 

Once arriving in the Fagaras mountains, we paid much more attention to the scenery. The Transfaragasan highway is supposedly "the most beautiful highway in the world." On our way up, we also came across some sort of marathon, a local cheese and meat market, and some fucking fantastic views.

On the long drive back, Nicu tells me more about his family, his life, and Romania's extremely difficult relationship with communism and capitalism. On the one hand, entire villages were destroyed when communism came in. Yes, the people were evacuated and given homes elsewhere, but their real homes were gone. People felt a sense of peace and security in that they were guaranteed work and food, but it wasn't always the specific work they wanted, or the quality wasn't as high. Then the revolution against communism was extremely violent in the cities (the countryside hardly noticed a difference). The years immediately following communism were even more difficult than the communist years for many people because suddenly they were left entirely on their own to navigate not only work and livelihood, but also the sudden and tremendous onslaught of foreign Western media that essentially "took over" society. Many older people now are the ones who look back fondly on communism because they are the ones who lived through both the cruel stability of communism and tumultuous instability of its fall to capitalism and Western media.

Nicu also recommended the best place to find cheese in Bucharest and probably all of Romania: Otpor Market. Apparently, this market used to be downtown but was pushed out because city planners didn't like the mess of having the livestock bought and sold in the middle of the city. Sadly, there is no longer livestock for sale at the market but you still have to make your way to the very edge of the city to find it.

DAY 3: Bucharest

Since I'm actually based out of Bucharest for this entire weekend, you'd think I should spend at least one day here, right? That was Monday.

Waking up, I decided to find and explore Otpor Market before my walking tour at 10. Navigating the confusing city transit, I finally found the massive building and endless stands outside... only to discover it opens at 9.

Are. You. Kidding. Me.?

I wandered around drinking coffee until 9, scrambled through to find the cheeses, bought them, then booked it back to the tram to make it to the National Theatre (tour meeting point) by 10.

This tour guide was much less politically nuanced than Nicu. She was very direct in her bold statements about Romanian culture and identity dying under communism, the ugly buildings built by the communist leader Ceausescu that overshadowed the true Romanian architecture, lamentations about the deliberate communist neglect of the beautiful old buildings, etc.

A communist-era building and a quote from the tour guide.

But many old buildings did manage to survive; this one is the French consulate.

Oldest graffiti on the street: "Vote for the Sun" from the pre-communist 1940s. A sun was the symbol of the communist party at the time.

After the tour, I finally found mici and papanasi :)

Mici: Romanian grilled skinless sausages made with ground meat and spices

Papanasi: a fried dough ball covered in a yogurt-like cream (sour cream?) and blackberry jelly

WORST HOSTEL EVER PART 3

You would think the story of the goddamn hostel would be done by now, right? Right??

After flying back to Geneva and checking into my bank account, I discover the goddamn hostel had the AUDACITY to actually CHARGE ME for all three nights they didn't let me stay. IS THIS A JOKE?!?! Seriously. I love hostels but these are the types of places that give them a bad name. Go fuck yourself, Paris Hostel.

27 Things I Learned Through Hitchhiking

Cringey and very uncandid selfie to demonstrate how joyous and kick-ass hitchhiking can be. This is Tombstone National Park, about halfway up the Yukon (the furthest I went north before heading west into Alaska).

After having been back in Ontario for the past six and a half months, one of the things that regularly strikes me is how ordered, structured, and organized everyone is. I think this influences the common negative assumptions about hitchhiking. That bothers me ever so slightly because hitchhiking is probably one of the most worthwhile decisions I’ve ever made. The things I learned about people in general as well as myself were astonishing. Traveling through Alaska and the Yukon was an incredible experience and the people I met through hitchhiking were the primary part of this. I also think many of the negatives about hitchhiking are highly overrated. Yes, it is dangerous to hitchhike, especially as a lone woman, but it is 100% manageable and the negative associations with it cause more harm than good.

Dawn picked me up outside of Prince George. We visited her friend's family as they were drying and smoking fish. A fascinating, unforgettable experience.

In a later post, I’d love to tell some of the incredible stories of people that I met through hitchhiking. For now, here is a list of things that I experienced and learned while hitchhiking:

1.     Most people are good people. Full stop. If you assume the worst, you close yourself off from the incredible experiences that might happen.

2.  If people are gonna be worried about you, be considerate and reassure them that you're safe and well-prepared. This could mean texting people when you have service, updating Facebook, whatever. Let people know how "not dead" you are. (This could also mean buying a tarp you don't really want in the presence of a concerned friend only to return it once you're on your own... the point is they feel better thinking you have a tarp)

Several weeks after returning my tarp (I mean c'mon, it was expensive) it started raining. This is my sketchy tarp substitute over a very-much-not-waterproof tent. Garbage bags work great for the cheapos.

3.     It really is the journey that is more important than the destination. The people who you get to talk to when they pick you up can be enchanting and all have incredible stories and life experience to share. Hitchhiking is FAR more than just a means to get from one place to another – it is the adventure in itself.

4.     Keep an open-ended schedule - the people you meet can change it in the most wonderful ways. The most meaningful and memorable experiences I had while hitchhiking were not planned.

While originally planning to hitchhike back down the coast, one of the women who picked me up urged me to take the ferry, claiming I really couldn't miss the Inside Passage. She was 100% right. This was in Haines, Alaska, where I boarded the ferry.

There were lawn chairs up in the solarium of the ferry where people would lay their mats and sleeping bags. Sleeping outside while smelling the salty ocean air late at night surrounded by around 30 other campers is a pretty friggin great experience. Fun fact: I survived this entire 3-day ferry ride on primarily free peanut butter and honey packets.

5.     Know when to accept a dinner/sleeping invitation. Most people who offer are genuine and sweet, just wanting to offer something to you. Some are not. If you can’t tell who’s who, probably don’t go with them.

While managing a tiny campfire with wet wood to cook your little can of beans can be a memory in itself, sometimes it's nice to accept a dinner invitation.

6.     Wear colourful clothes. Actually, give a fair bit of thought into what you wear. People only pick you up if they trust you from a split-second assessment as they see you on the road. Modest but clearly female bright-coloured clothing increased people’s trust of me. A giant black raincoat definitely did not.

Colourful clothing helps people to trust you, like these sweethearts did.

7.     Bear or pepper spray is enough. 99% chance you’ll never use it. On the rando chance you need to, have it with you. Don’t lug around a massive stick that will only be heavy and intimidate people out of giving you a ride.

The super friendly dudes in the previous photo left me this lovely hand-carved walking stick. Unfortunately, it was massive and heavy - I was not about to lug that thing around. Alas this photo is the only memory I have left of the delightful but hindersome gift.

8.     You learn your own story by rehashing it with every person. This was actually fascinating. Almost everyone you meet wants to know who you are and why you’re hitchhiking (partially to determine whether or not they should drop you right off again). The first couple times, I really just threw out random thoughts about why I was hitchhiking, who I am, what I was doing, etc. By the end, I had gone over this so many times that I realized exactly who I was telling people I am. This was astonishing in discovering who I see myself as.

9.     Know where you are (both mentally and on a physical paper map). I’m bad for this one, but became pretty adept at it through the experience. Huge shout-out to my crew boss who made sure I had lots of hardcopy paper maps before she dropped me off.

This hike was one where needing that map was utterly crucial as I nearly wound up stranded on a random mountainside in the Yukon during bear season. I made it up though, saw this FRIGGIN GORGEOUS VIEW OF DAWSON, and managed to hitch a ride back down.

10.     Ask questions. This is how you get to know people. Sometimes riding in silence is great and exactly what both you and the driver need and want, but asking questions is still critical. Safety is one thing and getting to know the driver through questions certainly helps with that, but the people you’re driving with could answer with anything and that’s the best part.

11.  Have something to offer (ie. Clif bars). People are being nice when they pick you up, so be nice back and offer something to them. I just happened to have a shitload of Clif bars in the top pocket of my backpack.

12.  Take advice but re-assure them that you know what you’re doing. Especially if you’re a woman because people doubt your awareness more often. Sometimes people, especially locals, often have the best suggestions about where to go and how to get around - so listen closely. That being said, people who are highly self-assured (as people who pick up hitchhikers can often be) can sometimes doubt whether you know what you’re doing, especially if you’re a young female hitchhiker. Don’t let people act all paternalistic regardless of their positive intentions; you know exactly what you’re doing. The correct answer to “Hun, are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” is yes. Yes, you are going to be just fine.

Grizzly bear family! An extremely sweet but slightly "parenty" couple informed me I could find grizzly bears here and, alas, here they were. This couple was wonderful, but there were many times where I needed to assure them that I was perfectly fine on my own and, yes, my parents knew exactly what I was doing (not that it was any of their business).

13.   Wealth makes absolutely no difference as people, but a huge difference in assumptiveness. Granted, this is a pretty big generalization in itself, but it’s my experience. Wealthier people and fancier cars = they think you are broke, have no parents, need food, should feel completely honoured that they’re giving you a ride, etc. Average cars with average people in them = they think you’re normal, equal, doing just fine, a pal giving another pal a ride.

14.   People will make assumptions about you - squash those assumptions. Directly related to the previous point.

15.   Be open. You have no idea just how differently people think and do things just within your own country.

16.   Literally anyone will pick you up and that’s the intriguing part of it. Some people are utter sweethearts, some people are super open-minded, some people are racist, some people are sexist, some people just need someone to keep them awake while they drive, some people don’t want to talk, some people only want to talk, some people are extremely curious about you, some people just want to tell you about themselves, some people just want to tell you about the super gorgeous third cottage they bought, some people are just making their way down to the next festival shift they’re working. Literally anyone.

Willie and I made our way up over 600km from BC Hwy 16 up to the Alaska highway. As he was a retired miner, we spent the night at a working jade mine where he'd previously worked. The next morning, he took me on a tour of the giant, active jade mine. Not an experience one gets to see every day. He was definitely one of the sweethearts.

17.  The dangers are over-rated. You have a hell of a lot of control when you’re in that car. The driver needs to focus on driving; you can focus on anything and everything.

18.   People will think you do drugs. Probs best not to if you're going over a border. 

19.   You will be told how brave and strong you are. Cuz fuck yeah you are.

Reaching the top of Midnight Dome, where it felt like all of the Yukon was visible.

20.  People will see you idealistically. People have talked to me as though I’m some free-spirited, world-travelling, whimsical, carpe-diem-driven adventure-seeker, almost as though I’m some dream of theirs. It’s a weird feeling but sure, do whatever you want with it.

21.   Pick your hitchhiking spots wisely. This should be obvious but I don’t drive, so it really took me a while to clue in. Waddya know, people don’t want to stop in a place where slowing down will screw up every other vehicle on the road and possibly kill someone.

22.   People will ask “what do your parents think about this?” None of their business, regardless of how old you look. I would just respond politely that my parents were concerned but I’m keeping in regular contact with them. People often have perfectly fine intentions with this question, but it’s super frustrating that they probably wouldn’t ask a dude this question and certainly not an older person.

Did my parents actually know I was taking shots containing an actual pickled human toe? No, they did not. But the Sourtoe Cocktail was not to be missed. The pickled toe on the plate of salt in this photo is about to be placed in the shot glass in front of me.

23.  Accept hitchhiking advice from people who have actually hitchhiked. Hitchwiki.org or people/friends who have hitchhiked in the past are the places to go for advice. NOT friends or family or even rides who, while they may have lovely intentions, have no idea what they’re talking about. There are several things that rational and caring people can assume about hitchhiking and offer as advice but in reality does nothing. In fact, bad advice can seriously hinder the process.

My campsite directly beside the Yukon River. It was a fellow hitchhiker who told me about this campground. Local people and fellow/former hitchhikers are the primary people to be taking advice from.

24.  Always talk to the driver briefly before putting anything (either yourself or your stuff) into the vehicle. You can get a pretty clear idea of the driver from a quick 20-second conversation.

25.  DON’T HESITATE to turn down a ride if you get an uncomfortable feeling about the driver. Trust your instincts. If it feels unsafe, it probably is. You are under no obligation to enter any vehicle just because they stop.

Occasionally it's best to turn down a ride and spend a lil' bit longer on the side of the road. This type of scene was my view for many an hour. Note the awesome and deliberately chosen highway sign.

26.  Don’t let people control your trip - this is your trip and you should always be in control of it.

27. As you do it more often, it gets a lot easier and certain things come more naturally. It's a miracle for gaining self-confidence.

While two years ago, the idea of hitchhiking through British Columbia, the Yukon, and Alaska would have seemed kinda inconceivable and absurd, the decision to do it was one of the most rewarding decisions I've made. It was an astonishing learning experience. While the area in itself is gorgeous and full of history, the experiences of hitchhiking were and still are 90% of the reason for the success of this trip.

Ironically, I'm going to finish this blog post with a picture of the exquisite sunset taken from the ferry (somewhere around Juneau?) rather than with one of the incredible people I met while hitchhiking.

PS - don't forget about the Palestine delegation in which I am participating this August! Around $200 has been raised so far - lots more to go! To donate, go to http://cpt.org/donate and follow the steps to donate. Toward the end of the process, there will be a box that says "donation inspired by". Be sure to enter my name in this section to ensure that the donation goes to this delegation.

Peace and love, friends!