Alpine Panorama Trail - Stones and Snails and Rain

The true highlight of the day is the breakfast with the Sikh family. While eating my opulent breakfast, the couple keeps me company.

The landlord tells the crazy story of his journey, which has led him from India to Amden, of all places. Apparently the hotel has been empty for a while, a bargain, so to speak, for someone willing to show that he is capable of making a success of what at first sight seems to be a hopeless cause. His confidence is contagious, an example for us Swiss who always think of the risks and rarely of the opportunities. I hope for the younger generation. They definitely tick differently.

In return, I tell about my adventures in the Punjab respectively in Amritsar, a long long time ago, when the world was still young.

Today's plan offers a lot of meters and kilometers, unfortunately not the most attractive ones.

 

 

The savior of earthworms and roman snails

Before it's all just straight ahead on the Linth plain, the trail leads down from Amden to Weesen via an old historic mule track. But first, as usual, it leads downhill through wet slippery meadows. As always, my old friend, the 3 signpost, guides me.

 

I will definitely be welcomed in the snail or the earthworm heaven, being celebrated there as a savior and benefactor. No idea how many earthworms I have saved from the wet streets to the adjacent meadow into safety (the bending with the heavy backpack brings additional plus points in the worm universe).

Today it's the Roman snails.

At first I think of single specimens, until their numbers multiply so quickly, however, that any rescue operation would turn into a prolonged effort. I have never seen so many of these wonderful protected snails, so this must be a real snail paradise.

Very nice! Then crawl and reproduce, my dear ones!

 

At least, the Walensee, a light blue lagoon crowned by the Glarus Alps hidden behind whitish gray cloaks, is already flashing up through the dense leaf canopy. I would have liked to catch a glimpse of them, but that will probably be denied me today.

 

 

The stairway

At the beginning the path is quite pleasant, leading gently downhill, a pleasure. But then the steps begin, and you guessed it - no longer a pleasure, especially for the knees, which are already protesting loudly again. Each step is high, much higher than accustomed. It reminds me of the blasted steps on the Langtang Trek in Nepal, which led me to renounce any future trek.

The stairway, declared a cultural heritage as an example for path-building art, was restored in the XNUMX years, so that now I understand from my own experience the hardships that had to be endured in the past to get from one place to another.

 

I can't imagine how people used to manage to go up or down this path with bag and baggage, probably with the help of donkeys or mules, over hundreds of strenuous steps. On the other hand, we know very well what hardship life must have been in the past. Not a pleasant time, even if it is occasionally romanticized.

 

 

Finally down in Weesen

The small town of Weesen on the Walensee is famous for its mild climate, grapes and figs thrive here, you feel at home.

After the descent via the bloody stairway I have earned a break, but only a short one, the way to Siebnen is long. Today is one of the longest stages announced, and quite honestly, also one of the most boring and dullest of the whole trail. But even those have to be accomplished.

After all, the path along the Linth, here a dead-straight canal that stretches all the way to Lake Zurich, is a more than welcome change after all the hills and mountains and steep paths.

 

The meadows are in full bloom, you might think there's something to celebrate. But presumably the plants are taking advantage of the brief rain-free moment to soak up sun and warmth before the next gush of wetness hits them. The sky makes an alarming impression, as if my weather forecast would come true in the foreseeable future.

 

The look goes out into the valley, into the Glarnerland with the Glärnisch and the Rauti, covered by thick clouds that do not bode well for the afternoon. I am now close to my home village, Näfels is a stone's throw away, I might make a detour to my relatives, but as I said, the distance is still long (and the sky is darkening once again).

 

 

Out to the Linth Plain

The Linth Canal (or Escherkanal) turns right, passes the village of Ziegelbrücke and then leads straight in the direction of Lake Zurich.

You can't talk about the Linth Canal without saying a word about the past. Before the Linth correction 1807-1822 by Hans Conrad Escher from Linth, the Linth joined the Maag, the former outflow of the Walensee, at Ziegelbrücke. From there on, the Linth strongly meandered and was only navigable to a limited extent due to the accumulation of sandbanks.

Since then, the water has been flowing through the Linth Canal - the canalized Maag between Weesen and Ziegelbrücke and the corrected Linth between Ziegelbrücke and Lake Zurich - without bedload. The bedload backwater of the Linth had previously led to swamping of the Linth plain and repeated flooding in Weesen.

The construction of the Linthwerk with the Escher- and Linth Canal lowered the level of the Walensee by several meters, the large Malaria-infested swamp area between the Walensee and the Obersee could be drained and replaced by valuable agricultural land.

 

Northbound on the Linth Plain

At Ziegelbrücke I leave the Linth and turn off to Niederurnen, hoping to find a restaurant. The upcoming voting day (about which I will say a few words later) leaves its mark also in the small café, where I stretch my tired bones.

And not for the first time I fear the worst after the aggressive statements of the landlady (I will be proved right).

North of Niederurnen, contrary to expectations, a hiking trail leads off the main road along the edge of the forest. "Glarner Wanderwege" it says on numerous signposts. The trail is okay, however, they seem to have forgotten the benches along the way. It takes some time until I find at least a flat stone in the middle of the incineration plant, on which I take my lunch, observed by suspicious workers.

No offense to the Glarus hiking trails, but the first bench appears shortly after the cantonal border with Schwyz. No laurels for the Glarner, but some for the Schwyzer ( they will remain the only ones). A panting woman with dog jogs by, the question if the dog has no problems with the pace, she answers with: "He doesn't, but I do".

 

 

Stories about long-distance hikers

Then in Reichenburg finally a restaurant, even with a garden. If someone might think that I spend the main part of my hike either on benches or in restaurants, he is not entirely wrong. I need to hike economically, managing my efforts, otherwise Geneva will remain a distant dream. So I look for a place to rest after every 90 minutes.

The host sits down with me, wants to know where I'm going. He nods thoughtfully, but then tells me about an 75-year-old German who has been walking all the long-distance trails in Europe for years. So from Kiel to Croatia, then via Italy to Spain and on across the continent. He left his cell phone at home because otherwise his wife might annoy him by constantly wanting to know where he was.

What can I say to that? With my intended 500 kilometers, I feel like a beginner, a nobody (I'll meet another such lunatic shortly before Geneva, who is on his way to Jerusalem). At least I don't seem to be the only weirdo on the road. Which is a small consolation after all.

 

 

It's raining again

The host thinks that it is not so serious with the rain after all ("it will surely be blown away"). As the next half hour proves, you can't rely on such forecasts, because it soon starts to piss for all it's worth.

What I don't know, thank God, is that it will pour down until Siebnen, today's destination.

Actually, the path would now continue on the extensive meadows north of Reichenburg. In view of the thunderstorm with lightning and thunder I prefer to follow the main road.

What follows now is an endlessly long hike along miserably ugly streets and villages. I cannot explain why these once pretty little places have been so ruined. One ugly industrial building after the other (most of them in some way connected to cars - garages, car trade, tire trade, agricultural machinery). Thanks to the rain I look straight ahead not to be annoyed by this total absence of beauty.

 

One Step at a time

And so I plod along, the rain whipping in my face, the passing cars and trucks throwing spray over me, I don't care. I reel off long, endless, partly dead straight roads at a leisurely pace, I don't have to hurry, I'm wet anyway.

Not for the first time I sense the meditative aspect at walking. The mind wanders off, thoughts stopped, I put one foot in front of the other, everything vanishes except the next meters, the next village, the next turn. Non-walkers will never understand it, but it is exactly these moments that make it so special. One would have to recommend it to anyone who is in trouble - depression, burnout, feeling lost and weak.

You just have to keep walking. With or without a backpack, until exhaustion, until you can't take it anymore, until the bad thoughts and feelings are burned away.

 

Finally there

Finally Schübelbach, then Buttikon, the villages have long merged into each other, but the surroundings do not gain in attractiveness. Maybe it is the bad weather, maybe the last days with the experience of the beauty of the mountains and valleys, that the ugliness of the surroundings is so obvious.

Sometimes I sit down on a wet stone at the roadside, tired and with miserable knee pain, but it is not far to Siebnen. The first houses appear, a man about my age stops in front of me, asks how I am. "You seem to be tired."

We laugh, find out that we have mutual friends in Näfels, a most welcome meeting. Then the last meters to the train station, where my friend Nestel is waiting for me, a lot of meters, because the train station is at the other side of Siebnen. Of course he doesn't recognize me in my rain clothes, no wonder, I must look like a stranger.

The hotel room is nice, the dinner later with Nestel is exactly what saves me from the experiences of the day. Tomorrow another day, another adventure. However, after today's almost 30 kilometers and 8 hours I have no desire for another monster stage.

I need to think of an alternative. We'll see …

 

Matching Song:   Bruce Ruffin - Rain

And here the trail continues ... to Einsiedeln