At seven o'clock Lynyrd Skynyrd wakes me from deep sleep, of course with Free Bird (see below) in the 1977 live version with Ronnie, Steve and Cassie. A couple of months later all three were dead. RIP.
Straight up American fucking Rock 'n' Roll.
There are numerous experts who consider the three-voice guitar solo to be the best of all time. I agree.
Free bird?
Fits perfectly. That's how I feel in my better days, in the others more like a bird with clipped wings.
Today is nothing special, a day to provide the muscles with some easy hours. Just short of four? Hardly worth setting off.
Length: 13 km, Ascent | Descent: 500 m | 440 m, Hiking time: 3 h 45 min
Sunday morning coming down
There is nothing more beautiful than walking through the empty city streets on a Sunday morning. For once the air doesn't smell of exhaust fumes, silence instead of the usual noise, nobody far and wide, maybe a few dog walkers or other early risers like me.
The ascent to Lucerne's local hill, the Sonnenberg, leads up a few residential roads until you enter the shade of trees a little further up.
It`s the usual near-city environment, carefully designed according to the requirements of the urban population. For once there are enough benches to sit on, the paths are pleasant, not too steep, not too strenuous, alternately in the sun, then again in the forest.
And then they are suddenly present, the joggers and pedestrians, the families with small children, the old men on canes with their ladies by the hand. There are no hikers, at least none to be discovered.
Today I'm going to go slow, make the breaks a little longer than usual, which means that after only an hour I'll take my first break, while looking up at the darkening sky, down to Kriens.
Nice weather? The weather prophets have probably picked the wrong prophesy once again.
The venerable Sonnenbergbahn
Once again I set off without detailed information about the stage. The info on the website is more than sparse:
From the Sonnenberg, Lucerne and its outlying communities can be seen in splendid detail. The Ränggschlucht gorge offers an insight into the geology of the region. On the last section to Malters, you follow in the footsteps of St. James.
And there, quite unexpectedly, I bump onto a train, a very small train actually. It is the Sonnenbergbahn, a venerable funicular railroad running up from Kriens, while its sister, the Gütschbahn, climbs up from Lucerne.
I love those little old trains, they remind of the Poly-Bahn in Zurich and might be just a bit longer. With a length of 839 m, it conquers a altitude difference of 210 m, starts in Kriens and runs practically without curves with a gradient of maximum 42,4 % up to just above the Hotel Sonnenberg (Wikipedia).
The advancing civilization
The path disappears inside the Gigelwald for a few minutes, but as soon as you leave it, you're faced with a million single-family homes that have approached within a few meters of the forest's edge. It looks like a cancer that keeps spreading.
I imagine the forest feeling threatened by all the houses, the noise, the concrete. Can it resist the increasing pressure? I am sceptical.
That weird Sunday
I have been walking for days now through whole forests of voting posters, right and left of the way, and always with the same message „2x Nein zu den extremen Agrarvorlagen“.
For non-Swiss: our so-called direct democracy provides its citizens the opportunity to vote on specific issues four times a year. These are either laws or amendments to the constitution that have been passed by the Federal Council and/or Parliament. In each case, 100'000 certified signatures can be used to initiate a referendum against these laws or amendments.
On the other hand, anyone, a party or even an individual or whoever, has the opportunity to collect 100'000 signatures for an initiative. There are a few restrictions, but basically any topic can be taken up (we already had to vote on whether our cows should have horns or not).
Both options will come before the public vote at some point.
There are a total of 5 bills to be decided this Sunday, one on the CO2 Act (referendum), one on the Covid-19 Act (referendum), one on the fight against terrorism (referendum) and two initiatives in the field of agriculture. These two want a better protection of drinking water and the ban of synthetic pesticides. Of course, the agricultural lobby has led an aggressive referendum campaign, and the two issues have led to an rarely seen emotionalization of the population.
Today is voting day at last, and then I hope that our little world will calm down again....
Scotland and steep stairs
A vast meadow lies between the Gigelwald and the actual Sonnenbergwald, of course again fully paved with the above-mentioned signs and posters. They are getting on my nerves. At least - the heat has increased pretty much - the forest provides me with a well-deserved cooling.
At a strange rock, standing in the middle of the forest and whose meaning and purpose is not clear to me, I meet an English-speaking family. I feel like an Indian looking for conversation with foreigners. "Where do you come from?"
"Scotland," replies the lady. I can't help myself and talk to her about a possible second vote on Scotland's withdrawal from the United Kingdom (I obviously do a lot to alleviate a pent-up thirst for conversation). In any case, my advances result in a lively discussion somehow reminding me of our voting Sunday. Nothing is clear, there are always several truths, everything is a question of how you look at it.
Sometimes fallen trees are lying across the path, I almost feel like being in a primeval forest. Actually, the path would be a joy if I wasn't annoyed again and again by steep stairs. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's steps secured with wooden logs across the path. If you're not careful as hell, the next stumble might mean the end of the hike. Not to mention the maltreated knees.
I say goodbye to the hopefully last staircase with a nasty curse (I'm sure I'm not the only one who has to get rid of his frustration here) and turn to the brook, which I wrongly assume is the Kleine Emme. A man crossing the bridge at the same time gives me a rather pitying look when I ask him about the creek. "The little Emme? Surely not!" And continues walking.
Of course, he is right. At best, it's a puny little tributary to the Kleine Emme, which won't appear for several miles. Another hurrah for my orientation talents. But the gorge looks impressive, even if it is only a small brook.
Reuniting with an old friend
While I catch my breath above a slope, overgrown with tall grass bending in the wind, I treat myself to the last Einsiedler Schafböcke, and am actually quite pleased with myself. Entire armies of ramblers - hikers would be too nice a term in this context - walk past my occupied bench and cast envious glances at me. Well, first come, first serve.
But then a surprise is in store for me. I have just happily left the slope behind me, there stands indeed an old friend from middle school days in front of me and grins all over his face. My hike has obviously not gone unnoticed.
And so a short time later I walk along the Kleine Emme (this time the right one) for the first time in company. There is much to tell, he too a practicing traveler on foot or by bike, who has driven or hiked half the world.
Somehow, the two of us walk along the wonderful path along the river in a different rhythm, very leisurely and relaxed, almost forgetting everything around us. We chat and walk and sit and chat some more. Great. A really welcome change after all the hours and days alone on the road.
And eventually we arrive in Malters, have a cold beer, before my friend sets off on his journey home.
Matching Song: Lynyrd Skynyrd - Free Bird (1977 Live Oakland Coliseum Stadium)
And here the trip continues ... to Wolhusen (and alone again)
