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.

Solo Hiking Hardergrat

This intensive full-day hike was the "initiation hike" that kind of the kick-off to several more months of adrenaline.

Honestly, I was pretty nervous for this one. There are a million blog posts and hike logs about the Hardergrat and it is semi-notorious for how dangerous it is; while popular, it is not an "official" trail due to the high risk of serious injury and death. While it's not a very technical or confusing trail, it's dangerous because of the extremely steep dropoff on almost either side. The consequences for errors aren't just serious injury - it's death. I have little experience with dangerous hikes and certainly none by myself.

Standing on the ridge above Lake Brienz

(A tiny German lesson for the name. "Grat" is a mountain ridge and "kulm" is the top of a mountain... but just a small mountain. The taller and pointier mountains are called horns, like Matterhorn, Schilthorn, Augsmathorn, etc. So this hike is the 24km ridge/"grat" connecting Harder Kulm to Rothorn Kum, but on the way you cross over Augstmatthorn and a couple other peaks.)

1. The Planning

Up until the morning of, I'm still going back and forth on which direction to start from, what time to start, what all to bring along, whether to start at the top or hike the ascents/descents from the base, etc. 

Option 1: Start extremely early (like 4am) in the morning to start the hike from Interlaken and hike "the typical" direction from Harder Kulm to Rothorn Kulm, then take the train down to Brienz and back to Interlaken.

Option 2: Same as #1 but take the first funicular at 9am from Interlaken to Rothorn Kulm. Risk of missing the last train from Rothorn Kulm to Brienz or, even worse, still be hiking after it starts to get dark.

Option 3: Take the train from Interlaken to Brienz to catch the first steam train at 8.30am from Brienz to Brienzer Rothorn and the "reverse" direction from Rothorn Kulm to Harder Kulm. This cover the most dangerous/unofficial part of the trail at the beginning of the day before my legs are tired and, if I do end up getting stranded on the mountain at night or miss the last funicular down, I'd at least be walked in the direction of my hostel in Interlaken on an actual marked trail.

I go with Option 3. Why the hell is this supposedly the unusual option??

There are also one or two "exit points" along the trail if, worst case scenario, I'm not able to finish the whole thing. These are extremely steep downhill routes though, so let's hope it's not too difficult to just finish the thing.

At one point, the weather forecast looks like thunderstorms and I'm frustrated because of all the anticipation already built up. I determine to just bring an umbrella with me and barricade myself beside a rock if need be. My logic: "If I die, I die. I am NOT coming all the way here just to not even do the hike!"

(Luckily, there will be no rain so I won't have to test this excellent idea of standing atop an open mountain ridge in a thunderstorm desperately clutching what's basically a lightning rod.)

2. The Hike

In the morning, I take the regular train to Brienz in order to catch the 8:30 steam train up to Brienzer Rothorn. Reaching the top of Rothorn Kulm, I start to wander in the general direction of the trail. As it's not an "official" trail, there are no marked signs for it, resulting in many side trails as people have wandered around until they find it. Eventually, however, one solid trail begins to appear, and I realize there are several other small groups of hikers heading in the same direction. They'd (understandably) caught the same first train up to Brienzer Rothorn. This is reassuring; while it's not recommended to hike the Hardergrat alone, people hike the Hardergrat every day so it's unlikely you'll actually be alone.

View of the steam train at Rothorn Kulm.

The actual hike itself is probably the most spectacular hike I've ever done. Not only is it steep, scary, and loooong, but it's also stunning. The cloud cover to the north seems to stop as soon as it hits the ridge, resulting in an almost ethereal divide between the north and south sides of the ridge. There is a clear view of Lake Brienz and the mountains further to the south, such as Schynigge Platte, Eigher, Monc, and Jungfrau. Photos tell a better story of this hike than text though:

The stunning ridge of the Hardergrat blocking the clouds from passing

A hiking companion I found scoots his way down a very steep section.

There are also crosses marking the sites where people fell... (usually in the winter)

Standing on the Harder ridge

It's... steep.

Pretty sure the only reason there were no crosses in this section is because there's nowhere to put them.

I absolutely love the way the clouds just stopped on one side of the ridge.

The final peak to climb on this forever-ridge is Augstmatthorn. Having already trudged up and down multiple peaks along the ridge throughout the day, this final summit isn't pleasant. We grip the trail on all fours as the shale rock slides beneath us and we're too exhausted to catch ourselves. 

At some point during this exhausting sliding mess, someone notices the blue paint nearby. Blue paint! That means we've made it to an official trail! The last portion of the Hardergrat connecting Augstmatthorn to Harder Kulm is safe enough that the Swiss trail authorities (whoever they are) deemed it an official trail. This means it's regularly maintained, painted, and insurance will cover you if you injure yourself.

Reaching the peak of Augstmatthorn, there are suddenly more people around us. Harder Kulm is a major tourist attraction just outside of Interlaken and many people do the short official hike between Harder Kulm and Augstmatthorn. We stop for a while to take photos, before continuing down toward the treeline and finally Harder Kulm before 7pm. After 9 hours on the trail, we are ready to catch the funicular down to Interlaken, and onward to our hostels.

Stats from the final hike.

3. The Aftermath

If there's a God, I'm pretty sure her response to this was basically "OKAY okay wait, here, at least spend more time with a professional adrenaline junkie first." Because the evening after solo hiking (and successfully not dying on) the Hardergrat, I met up with Z for a drink to talk about the paragliding trip I'd asked to book with him for the following day. Z was a canyoning guide Skylar and I met back in March who'd recently gotten his tandem paragliding license as well. I'd messaged him to follow up on the paragliding since that was something I'd also wanted to try.

This was supposed to be the weekend of adrenaline, but then turned into several months of adrenaline. That paragliding flight turned into five, the train turned into Z's ever-moving van, one canyoning tour turned into 10, and a reckless dance with adrenaline addiction slightly brought under control... Slightly.