Alpine Panorama Trail - Errors and Confusion

I would like to stop starting the day with rain and ending it with rain.

I hope that today means the day of resurrection, the day with the last fucking rain until Geneva. Of course, this will remain a pious hope, because also this morning the first look out of the window detects the exact same as last night.

Eating my breakfast, I stare apathetically out of the window, trucks rush by, the spray from the agitated water flies meters high. The mountains cannot be seen, I don't care. They look exactly the same as yesterday, deeply overcast with fog and wetness.

A look at today's map shows an easy route through the valley from Stein over the Vorderhöhi to Amden.

The rather long ascent from Stein to the Vordere Höhe is rewarded with a magnificent view of the Glarus mountain peaks. A varied high-altitude hike leads around the Gulmen, over to the Mattstock and down to Amden.

A strange decision in the early morning

As today will show, one can arbitrarily repeat a wrong decision. Anyway, the rain has actually taken a break, as if to convince me that despite everything it is well-disposed towards me. In the meantime I got to know this miserable liar very well, so I don't expect anything good.

In any case, I step out the door at nine, look around, there's the signpost, not with a 3, but a signpost definitely pointing in the right direction. Cheerful - the sleep in the highly decent separated bed has been good and deep and the clothes dry - I follow the path leading into a valley.

Of course, after half an hour it starts pouring - hello you lying guy - cars and tractors pass me, carefully, it seems to me, so as not to make the peculiar hiker even wetter than he already is. And again the trail leads out into the meadows, I don't repeat my aversion to tall wet grass. In any case, a pointed peak appears on the horizon, barely visible through the fog, but it might be the Speer.

The first warning. In fact, from this perspective I should not yet see a mountain, in any case not the Speer.

But I feel comfortable, I'm moving forward, slowly and steadily, past the typical farms of this area. No human soul around, sometimes I hear a suppressed mooing from the stables. I don't seem to be the only one hoping for nicer weather.

The rivers are full, rushing water passes under the bridges.

But then the trail gets worse, the road has disappeared, it's ascending now. The dirt sticks once again like a ton on the soles of my shoes, the breath is heavy, and every few meters I have to take a break.

But the signpost points stubbornly in the hopefully right direction, uphill, towards the sunset (if there was any sun).

So I walk up the valley, almost like in Ladakh on the Babytrail, but without the heat and the dry air, but a lot of rain.

After all, in sunny weather the meadows might make a wonderfully colorful picture; today they look like half drowned and once again make walking a medium ordeal for me.

It is getting steeper and steeper, and I still hope to finally discover the signposts with a big welcome 3. Still thinking I'm on the right path, I start to write a nasty e-mail to the organizers of the Panorama Trail in my mind. It is not acceptable that a whole stage is not signposted.

First Doubts – The Wrong Valley?

But slowly and surly doubts creep in. The essential look at the map or the iPhone is difficult in this rain and omitted for the most part. But the surrounding mountains and slopes are more or less what I expected. Shortly, the Vorderhöhi ought to appear, or doesn't it?

The path also gets worse, swamp and snow leftovers like yesterday, plus steep slopes that make walking a hassle. There is absolutely not a living soul to be seen, I hear nothing except my own panting and cursing. In any case, the path looks like someone last crossed it in the 19th Century.

But suddenly an impressive forest road emerges from the right, which I have not expected at all. On the map I can' t find anything like it, but what the heck, I can' t do much more wrong today. And indeed, after a short time something like a ridge appears and I can hardly believe my eyes, for the first time today I see a signpost with a 3 on it.

I am still convinced to be at Vorderhöhi, but the signpost indicates that I am somewhere between Vorderhöhi and Hinderhöhi.

Good Lord, which way did I take? With the help of the various signposts and a bashful look at the map, I finally understand my mistake. I've actually been walking all day through the wrong valley, that lies further north than the correct one. The mishap apparently happened immediately after leaving the hotel. I should have looked not only left but also right, and there I would have discovered my beloved 3 signposts.

Once again - what an idiot!

But somehow I also find it amusing. There is nothing better for the own ego or its correct classification than such stupid mistakes. In my case, this has nothing to do with age, I've always been quite a dumbass in this respect!

As you can see, it is possible to reach the same destination in different routes and without realizing it. However, this requires blindness, rain that makes it impossible to check on the map, and a good dose of indifference. An important condition for relaxed walking and a serene mindset.

Close to happiness

Two elderly bikers arrive, breathing quite heavily, I inquire where they have come from. They laugh when I tell them my mishap, but we agree that such stories are ultimately the salt in the hiking soup.

After the Hinderhöhi, which I reach after half an hour, the path goes quickly downhill, past the Mattstock. The Speer looms in the background; its appearance on the horizon should have been the first warning signal. And oh wonder, it doesn't rain anymore.

And finally a place to sit, a wooden bench in the middle of a flowering meadow. I eat, drink, take a deep breath, ponder life's vicissitudes, and there, unexpectedly and so welcome, after this strange day of all things, is another one of those moments again when everything is in perfect balance. You can't get any closer to happiness than that.

While in the valley the dandelion, my favorite flower, has long since faded and has spilled over the meadows parachute-like, it is still blooming in full glory at this altitude. Is there a more beautiful image for spring than a meadow covered with blooming dandelions? Not for me. Every orchid or rose, no matter how beautiful, is out of question.

 

As expected, the chairlift down to Amden is not in operation, so I have to do the last slopes on a devilishly steep and slippery path on foot. After a short time I seem to have grown, because a thick layer of dirt has accumulated on the soles of my shoes, which makes walking even more tedious. Again and again I can keep myself on my feet at the last moment, cows at the roadside find it once again highly interesting to watch the stumbling and swearing hiker.

The Glarus Alps appear in the background, a piece of the Walensee shines far down. I have almost arrived.

But eventually the last part of this unfortunate stage is completed, and indeed, the sun has risen, it quickly becomes warm, an invitation to treat myself to a coffee with Meitschibei in front of a café with a bakery. Rarely has this combination put me in such a positive mood.

Overnight in Punjab

The hotel sheep holds a surprise in store, because I'm from a real one Sikh greeted. Even the first look inside shows a wonderful mixture of Indian and local culture. But at the moment I'm only interested in a hot shower and then something to eat.

I inquire with an old friend if he feels like having a beer with me, but unfortunately he is currently absent on vacation. And so I eat alone in the Hotel Rössli. And by the way - outside it is raining cats and dogs (just to continue the old tradition of ending the day with a rain report).

 

Matching Song:   Bob Dylan - Idiot Wind

And here the trail continous ... to Siebnen