Ropes and Ladders (Swiss Alps - Part 5)

Like any dysfunctional and borderline abusive relationship, one day Mother Nature first pummels you with ice bullets and gets you stranded. The next day it says “sorry”, clears the skies to a brilliant blue, and makes you forget all about the wrongs committed less than 24 hours ago.

That’s how it was today.

It started off with a few hours of walking around the brilliant Lac Des Dix.

The birds and animals were out, including a group of shy Alpine Ibex - essentially mountain goats.

More delightful were the marmots - a rather “thicc" squirrel-like rodent. Turns out this is actually also called a groundhog. Things you didn’t know.

Past the lake was a steep ascent to Pigne d’Arolla with more glacier views.

And finally, it was time to get around Col de Riedmatten, another mountain pass. This was an ascent through fine volcanic sand at some points. Some ropes were involved, and finally…ladders. A straight vertical climb on the side of a cliff. No safeties. As a lover of heights, I volunteered as tribute to climb first, pausing to declare to my new friends my living will and most importantly who gets my cats and their inheritance in the event of my untimely plunge to the abyss below.

No such thing happened. The three sets of ladders were quite sturdy, though it was wise to not look down. I kept my body close to the ladder, double checked my footing, and made it across. As a previously self-declared lover of heights, I will admit I didn’t like this very much. In most height situations your locus of control is external - you either leave it up to the professionals or trust that the system isn’t going to fail. In this case, in the 3 minutes it took me to climb up, my brain imagined perhaps 20 scenarios of how I could slip and plummet.

With that bit of excitement out of the way, it was a long descent to the village of Arolla surrounded by glacier views. My knees didn’t like that very much and once again at the edge of town I hitchhiked a ride down to my lodge. I’ve learned that after a day of walking I seem to care not what kind of car I get into. No lures of ice cream needed. Starting to think the public education system didn't do such a great job with me.

Today was a decision day. A 25 minute bus ride or 4 hours of trekking up then down? An “easy” day on this route is still a 7 mile trek. I should really start reading the fine print.

The weather was looking fresh and I was promised that Lac Bleu was pretty. And it didn’t disappoint.

Neither did the quaint wooden cabins with their flowerbeds and their overly aggressive hamburgers. More about those hamburgers coming up ...