I could make it if I tried
I closed my eyes I kept on swimming..."
Once again: name that tune utilized in the blog title! (And once again, Josh Ritter narrates my life.)
I was originally going to post this tonight and then I thought I shouldn't because I should really go to bed but then I uploaded pictures to facebook and my heart got all swelled with love for the mountains and I needed it to overflow into the blogosphere and the point is I'm here now. I think any teacher I've ever had would be really proud of that sentence I just put together.
This last weekend I, along with three other friends from the program, went to Grindelwald. Grindelwald (not to be confused with Gimelwald) is a small village in the German region of Switzerland. It's nestled into a valley between some of the most stunning mountains in the world (in my opinion) including the Eiger and the Jungfrau. The town itself is so picturesque it makes you a little nauseous. In a good way, of course. There are cows everywhere with bells around their necks and so many gorgeous trees and mountains and wooden houses and it's generally stunning.
Day 1:
We woke up VERY EARLY to catch the 5:50 am train out of Nyon and arrived in Grindelwald around 9:30 am. We dropped off our stuff at our deserted hostel (they're in between summer and winter seasons right now, so it's pretty empty in town) and headed off on our first hike on the Bussalp trail (now you can google maps it, Daddy). We all started off together, and were quickly breathing very heavily and shedding layers upon layers of clothing. Fiona and Elisabeth decided to split off and take the baby trail to the top, which led them on a gently winding, paved road that climbed on a slight incline up the mountain. Jack and I, however, decided to carry on and headed straight up the valley at about a 50 degree incline. It was brutal and I was whiny and slow and generally dying, but Jack was patient and the views were incredible at every step.
We finally got to the top and met up with the other girls. They had been at the restaurant for 45 minutes and had barely broken a sweat on their hike. Meanwhile I could literally wipe straight up salt off my forehead from the sweat. Yum. We had a late lunch, went back to the hostel, showered, hung out, and then went to a place called Uncle Tom's Cabin (I kid you not) for dinner. Afterwards we played on a playground and then went to bed early.
We hiked right up through this valley. Very steep and VERY beautiful. |
Day 2:
Fiona left us to go see her grandparents in Bern, so the three of us continued without our translator (Fiona is bilingual in English and Swiss German. Very helpful.). Pretty soon after waking up, we began our adventures of the second day.
Elisabeth decided to have a leisurely day: relax and then take the train up the mountain and meet us at the Jungfrau. Jack and I, however, were feeling ambitious. We took a train to Alpiglen and there began our ascent of the Eiger trail. This trail was not as brutal as the one the day before because although it was super steep in places, there were also flat sections to temper it.
The Eiger. The Eiger the Eiger the North Face of the Eiger. I don't even know what to say. We hiked along the base of it for a solid three hours, always keeping it on our left as we made our way towards Eigergletscher. It is really an imposing piece of rock. It blocked the sun (there are worse places to be than in the shadow of the Eiger) and loomed over us the entire hike. It reminded me of my mortality and my infinite nature at once. It's the kind of mountain that you look at and lose sense of yourself. You see it, and you can't hear your belabored breathing anymore. All you can hear is the silence of this mountain. The dignified silence of a beast that needs no words to make itself understood. Unreal.
The beast. The Eiger. |
Once we made our way to Eigergletscher (climbing from 1615 m to 2320 m), we waited around for a cogwheel to take us to the Jungfraujoch. The Jungfrau is pretty famous and is known often by it's moniker "The Top of Europe." Because we got there so late in the day and because it isn't peak season, we were fortunate enough to not have to dodge a million tourists. So we wandered around and saw some spectacular views of snow and mountains and the world below.
Sometimes I just have to stop and remind myself how lucky I am. From Arizona to Colorado to Washington to Italy to China to Argentina to Antarctica to Switzerland...I am so grateful for the opportunities I have been given and for the world I have seen. It is so immense and so full of grace and warmth and austerity and sincerity and reality and and and and. It's my true love, the one which will never change and will never love me back and for that I am eternally indebted. There's something about being so insignificant in your surroundings that just fills me with such a sense of relief and wonder that it can sometimes be overwhelming. I felt this often in Antarctica and felt it again this weekend.
I keep telling myself: Just stop to look up. Stop to recognize where you are, what your surroundings are whispering to you. Where is home? Where is your heart? Where is your mind? Who are you? Who are you when it is just you and the mountain, and nothing is expected of you? And the most beautiful moment: when all of that ceases to matter and it's only your heartbeat in the shadow of the mountain.
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