Epic Man Hike...

May 25th, 2012 shall forever live in infamy as the day of the epic man hike.

The morning started in Interlaken, popular tourist city situated between a couple of gorgeous lakes. (Hence the name, inter=between and laken=lakes.) We wandered around the city center, peering into shop windows and appreciating the bright turquoise canals.

I didn't modify this picture in any way. The water was just that blue. Amazing!

I felt like this would have been the perfect spot to have a picnic and read Grimm's fairytales.

Of course, to buy anything in Interlaken cost an arm and a leg, so we tired fairly quickly of browsing. I bought a postcard that cost about $2, and at that point, Matt was itching to get out of town and into the wilderness. There was too much beauty in the mountains to 'waste' the day shopping. So, we ate some crappy chicken nuggets (cheapest thing we could find) and drove back toward the Lauterbrunnen valley area. We had noticed the day before that we could take a cable car up to the village of Gimmelwald (not to be confused with the village of Grindelwald where our hotel was). Using the cable car was surprisingly inexpensive, something like 10CHF (Swiss franks) per person. That's roughly $11USD. Our alternative plan had been to catch a series of trains to the tallest rail station in Europe called the Jungfraujoch. That plan was quickly thwarted by it's 140CHF per person price tag. No thank you! I'll go skiing in Colorado if I want to see what 11,000 feet above sea level looks like.

Anyway, we hopped on the cable car to Gimmelwald, and thus began epic man hike.

That other cable car is used to haul supplies up to the village because there aren't really any direct roads. Our fellow passengers included a group of extreme sports enthusiasts that were on their way to do some base jumping. And we saw multiple paragliders deploying parachutes near the waterfalls.

By the time we reached the top, we were standing at roughly 4,000 feet. Much debate ensued about the duration of our impending physical activity. The compromise we reached was to take a one hour medium-difficulty hike to a place where Jordan and Brynne could then diverge and head to the nearest town. Matthew and I would continue on hiking for as long as we could and then meet back up with the girls in Mürren. (Keep in mind that this was only the second time Jordan and Brynne had ever hiked, with their first time being the day before. And they weren't super keen on spending the whole afternoon sweating.)

Well, it just so happened that we met up with a group of three Americans and a Canadian that were setting off on a different trail toward a peak called Bryndli. Nigel (the Canadian) worked at the backpackers' hostel in Gimmelwald and had hiked the trail to Bryndli the week before. They invited us to join them, and we agreed, happy to have some company and an experienced guide.

How naive we were.

We should have known we were in for a real treat when this steep, skinny path was "the easiest part of the trail" according to Nigel. It was enough of an incline to get my cardiovascular system pumping hard. I was glad that I brought my inhaler.

Before we had even made it up to the tree line, the views were increasing in breath-taking awesomeness. That village in the bottom left corner was where we started our hike. And over Matt's right shoulder in the crack between the mountains are the remnants of a glacier. It looks like a snow river. From this high up, you could begin to see the sources of dozens of waterfalls. They start all the way up at the tippy top of the peaks.

Onward and upward! (That was the theme of the next 3 hours.) We made it through a patch of pines and stumbled upon a rushing waterfall. Nigel told us that Switzerland had received an unusually large accumulation of snow during the month of April, and so the spring water run-off was especially heavy. On top of the snow, there had been a record-breaking windstorm that blew away many trail fences and caused destruction in the form of mudslides. More about that in a bit.

Jordan, Brynne, and I took a breather while the others inspected the waterfall from behind. Maybe you can better appreciate how huge this thing was when I zoom out.

See? It's almost impossible to spot Matthew and our hiking buddies. Speaking of our buddies, I realized I have never named them all. We spent the day with Nigel (Canadian hostel worker/tour guide), Kelli (scholar from Ohio who is living in the Netherlands), and Kevin and Evan (best friends from California on a European super trip). I'm not sure if they were glad we accompanied them or not, but Matthew sure was happy to join them. Had we not followed them, my hubby probably would not have reached his desired manliness level. He would have been stuck with three girls that would have complained enough about their tired legs to cause him to call it quits early.

Up and out of the forest we went. We ran into a couple that had just come down from the summit of Bryndli. When we told them that we were going in that direction, they gave us their best "yeah, good luck with that" look. Nigel had hinted to Matthew what we were in for, but the two of them wisely decided to keep us lolly-gaggers in the dark. When Jordan or Brynne would ask how much farther we had to go, Nigel would respond, "You are so close. Just keep going. It's only around the corner." By the fifth time he answered them like that, they became rather perturbed. Since I was the nearest to the girls, I heard many a muffled grumbling with a few expletives mixed in. Usually it was something along the lines of, "If he says that one more time, I'm probably going to punch him." Clearly, we were a pleasant group to be stuck with.

Finally, our destination appeared in plain sight. 

We were all smiles, thinking we were actually getting closer to our goal after all that walking.

And then, Jordan and Brynne found out that we were aiming for the tip of the peak behind us. Their reaction was priceless. This would be the perfect opportunity to use your imagination and fill in their thought bubbles.

Despite the fact that the girls truly were ticked that we had tricked them into this adventure, they sucked it up and kept on trucking along. All of us should get some credit for the fact that we didn't turn around then and there and go back towards civilization. As we continued to ascend, the clearly defined trails began dissipating as a result of the aforementioned bad weather in April. I didn't find out until after we risked our lives that technically, hiking season hadn't officially started. We were more or less trudging along and making our own way, trusting the leadership of a Canadian. Fantastic.

We were doing well until we hit an impassable patch of snow. It had looked small and insignificant from far below, but once we came upon it, we realized it had swallowed the path. Obviously our shorts and sneakers were not proper snow gear, and there was only one way around it. Literally, we would have to go up and around the snow, hoping to meet back up with the path on the other side (which was not visible to us at this point.) And when I say "up and around", I mean crawling on all fours up a 45-degree incline, digging your fingernails into the mud and clutching the clumps of grass as you go because there are no footholds and no safety net between you and a fall to your death. I am not overly dramatizing this. Evan and Kevin were the first to attempt scurrying up the precipice, and they were having difficulty. These two adventuresome, athletic, healthy twenty-somethings who had been hang-gliding and sky-diving over the Alps were nervous about this step in our journey. Jordan turned to me and said emphatically, "Mom would NOT approve of this." And she was absolutely correct.

I never understood why the exercises called "mountain climbers" were so named until this moment. About two minutes into this part, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I don't know if I have ever felt more vulnerable. At that moment, Brynne slipped and came sliding down toward me. I caught her foot with my hand, and then she was on the brink of crying/pooping her pants. I mustered up what remnants of calm I had to tell her that she was fine. Just grab the grass and lay as low as possible, then keep going when you're ready. (That's right. I saved a life that day.) Please also note in this picture how Nigel was the last one on solid ground. Watching out for us? Or sending the crazy unprepared tourists ahead as the guinea pigs? You decide.

Once we made it to where we could stand straight up again, we couldn't believe what we had just done. And the surroundings were dizzying. I almost felt a sense of vertigo because I was standing up normally, but everything was at such a tilt that it was hard to visually figure out where a level plane should be.

As much as I love taking pictures, I was beyond stressed and had given Matthew possession of the camera long before the crabwalk portion of the climb. He was eating this up, and I think his adrenaline overcompensated for any sense of danger. He was too in awe to be scared, and he got some wonderful panoramic shots. Unfortunately, blogger does not like the massive size of the panoramic files, so I can't share them with you. But even if I could, I think you'd have to see those views firsthand in order to believe them.

On edge and experiencing an overwhelming desire to be done with this hike from Hades, it was time for the final push to the summit. (How do people freaking climb Everest? I was an emotional mess at barely even a quarter of the height.) Whether I was panicking or the oxygen levels were decreasing (or a combination of both), I was feeling light-headed. But I wasn't about to be the only one left behind. Kevin, Evan, Nigel, and Kelli were trooping their way to the top seemingly without a problem. Matthew had stuck behind with me and the girls to make sure we didn't freak out and hurt ourselves. But, I told him to go ahead. I was fine, it would just take me a little longer. Reluctantly, he agreed to go on. And this was when I had my 127 Hours moment.

For those of you who don't know about the movie 127 Hours, it is a true story of a man who went biking and rock climbing by himself in a deserted area of Utah. He fell into a crevice, his arm got smashed by a boulder, and he was stuck there for almost week. (Well, 127 hours to be exact.) Long and graphic story short, he sawed his own arm off with a pocket knife, and somehow managed to climb out and walk until he found help. Fortunately, I still have all four limbs in tact, but I was certain that a rock would be the end of me.

I was at the very back of the pack. All by my lonesome self. I selected a basketball sized rock to pull myself up on and use as a step. But, that rock decided it needed to free itself from the side of the mountain, shoving me backwards and frightening me beyond measure. I cried out as the rock slid, and I warped my body in such a way as to hold on to the hill while the boulder smashed into my knee and scraped down my legs. I practically face-planted in the dirt while I listened to the rock rumble down the mountain away from me. And all I could think was, if I would have fallen with that rock, I would be dead. Or paralyzed. And no one would have noticed until it was too late. This wasn't fun anymore. I was genuinely shaken and in shock and started simultaneously laughing and crying. Jordan heard me and asked if I was injured. I don't even know what I said back to her, but then she yelled, "Matt! Matt! Come back! Kelsey's hurt! Or, she might just be frustrated!" What a good sister. By some miracle, my knight in shining armor (or a t-shirt and man-pris) came blazing down to my rescue. He calmed me down, while everyone above was already at the summit. I'm sure they were thinking that I was a big baby, and maybe I am, but crying is my coping mechanism. Once I blew my nose and had my man by my side, I was ready to go the rest of the way. I'll admit that Bryndli was a beautiful place.

Bryndli: 7,001 feet in the air! We climbed around 2,700 vertical feet and walked who-knows-how-many miles. In the box at the base of the summit cross was a guest book. It is sealed in a tupperware container with a pen so that all who make it there can leave a message about their experience.

Don't know how I plastered that smile on my face. Jordan only had enough strength to write "Insane!" as her entry in the book. Can't blame her. It does leave you speechless. Mine said, "A few tears later, I made it. Thank God." (My handwriting was awful because I was still so frazzled.)

And here is our group. From the top left: Evan, Jordan, Matthew, Kevin, Nigel. And then bottom left to right: Brynne, me, and Kelli. What a team! No way would we have persevered without their encouragement and prodding. I'm sure we were a pain in their butts, but they sure were patient with us.

After all that, we were only halfway done. We still had to go back down. Of course, we couldn't really go back exactly the way we came due to the snow patch. So, we muddled our way along washed out trails and other snow patches for the next two hours. Fortunately, I had the foresight to put some pistachios and raisins into our backpack so we had enough energy for the descent.

The plank in the top right corner is the bench at the summit. This is the gravel path to the top. The metal rods and rope were the only things between us and a sheer drop-off on the other side. Thus the reason why Brynne and I were monitoring our foot placement closely and Matt was supervising.

This gives you a good idea of the incline/decline. The next day our joints were more sore than our muscles from the pounding of every step.

I stole these pictures from Facebook, so they aren't the greatest quality. But again, this is the level of crookedness of the paths. Balance is hard to find, and our inner ears were working overtime.

When we gratefully reached (mostly) level ground, we encountered other obstacles. At times, the trail was virtually non-existent thanks to snow and mudslides. I realized how constantly shifting the beauty around us was when we witnessed an AVALANCHE in the distance! We heard a deep rumbling sound and thought it was rolling thunder. But then, we spotted a cascade of snow across the valley. It looked like a giant wave had just broken over the side of the mountain, and about a minute later, it silently stopped. Eery and wonderful all at once.

What you can't see in this photo is that this snow is covering a waterfall. It was fairly thick snow, otherwise our feet would have punched through to the freezing cold water. It was weird to feel warm, wearing a tank top and shorts, and then to see so much white stuff!

One of the the most exhausting psychological aspects of the hike was that when you thought you had reached stable, flat, ground and could give yourself a break, you'd hit another roadblock. When this wiped out portion of the trail came into view, Brynne had had enough. She declared loudly (three times), "This is bull-****!" At that instant, she slipped and fell into the mud.

Then she stood back up and fell again. Two more times.

Evan caught this moment perfectly. I was cracking up as he said, in his laid-back-California-surfer-dude way, "Usually karma doesn't come back to hit you that fast, but that was immediate."

What can you do but laugh?

Daylight was fading, and we reached deep within our last storehouses of energy to pick up the pace and get back to Gimmelwald before the sun set.

The path may have been rugged, to say the least, but it was lovely. Who lives here???

When the trail changed from gravel to pavement, you would have thought we had died and gone to heaven. I have never been so happy to see garden gnomes in my life. Garden gnomes = someone's house = civilization = completion of epic man hike.

It's like they were saying, "Well done! Thumbs up for surviving such a treacherous day!

Brynne was so relieved that she kissed the ground.

Did we really just do that? Yeah, I think we did. Geez. (Please pardon my horrendous outfit. I borrowed shorts from my sister, and clearly I hadn't packed adequately sporty upper-body garments. I look a mess.)

Five and a half hours after we had begun, we were finished. Considering we set out earlier that afternoon anticipating a maximum of three hours of physical activity, we were in pretty good shape. We all needed a bathroom break and some food since we had been subsisting on nasty chicken nuggets and a bag of pistachios. Nigel invited us to his hostel for a rest, and we spent a little bit longer with our new friends.

(Matthew had pizza in his mouth when I decided to snap this. That's why he looks like a chipmunk.) But there we were, amazed to be alive and thrilled to have such a story to share. The two guys behind Kelli were staying at the hostel and had passed us on their way down the mountain earlier. They had gotten to the snow patch near Bryndli and turned back. We were proud to tell them about the crab-walking maneuvers and other outlandish feats that they had avoided by giving up. 

All in all, it was a day I don't think I can ever forget. By far, epic man hike was the most hazardous thing I have ever done. Can't say that I would do it again if given the chance, but never say never! We finished the evening watching Jungfrau blush, and said goodbye to the people with whom we had triumphed against the odds. I can't remember who said it, but someone at our table announced, "We stared death in the face today, and it blinked first."