A highlight of one of my European summers was a day I spent hiking in the Berner Oberland region of the Swiss Alps. I was with a wonderful group of traveling friends, all eager for a ramble in the high country.
Fortunately, you don’t have to be a mountain climber to see the Alps up close. The Swiss transportation system is as remarkable as its majestic landscape. Cog railways and cable cars whisk you up into the type of scenery that’s usually only accessible with ropes and crampons.
My group started the day with breakfast at the revolving restaurant that caps the Schilthorn peak (nearly 10,000 feet), looking down at the high meadows where Swiss cows spend their summers, Heidi-style. We’d gotten up there effortlessly (in four stages) by riding the Schilthornbahn cable car. Whether filled with skiers in winter or hikers in summer, that glass-and-steel bubble is filled with mountain joy, especially when the Alps are out in all their glory.
From a value point of view, tickets for early lifts are often discounted, and discounts are given all over the Alps to Eurail Global Pass and Swiss Travel Pass holders. Because things can cloud up by late morning, early birds enjoy the crispest views. The lesson: Pay less and see more by ascending early. It’s not inexpensive, but when you’re surrounded by cut-glass peaks and breathing fresh mountain air, this is one of Europe’s great deals and most memorable experiences.
For our hike that day, we chose the super-scenic North Face trail (4 miles, 2.5 hours), starting our walk high above the tree line and cruising through meadows carpeted with alpine flowers. I love being way above the villages, but not too high for the cows or goats so my hike comes with an evocative, if random, symphony of bells.
The milk from those cows grazing in the high meadows is destined to become treasured Alp cheese (Alpkäse). People say that the character of the cheese is shaped by the wild herbs and flowers that the cows munch. Cheese loving locals claim they can tell which valley the cows grazed in just by the taste.
Farmers here often hire a team of cheese makers—mostly hippies, students, and city slickers eager to spend the summer in mountainous solitude. Up each morning at 5 a.m., hired hands milk the cows, take them to pasture, and make the cheese, milking the cows again when they come home in the evening.
Alpine farms often welcome hikers to peek at the cheese-making action, so we dropped in at a farm hut to watch. We met Veronika—a licensed cheese maker. Each morning she and her crew milk the cows and heat a copper vat of milk over a wood fire. As it slowly curdles, it’s stirred at just the right temperature until the consistency is exactly how Veronika likes it.
Then, at just the right moment, she swings the vat off the fire, quickly dredges it with her cheesecloth, and packs the fresh cheese into frames. This process is repeated every day for 100 days here in the high country—a cow’s udder knows no weekend.
As we went on our way, we descended steeply through thick forest. We had no trouble navigating, thanks to great signage. The dedication to order and organization that distinguishes Swiss culture also distinguishes Swiss nature. Helpful signposts pointed us in the right direction, gauged the degree of each trail’s difficulty, and gave us an estimated hiking time. Humbling, because these times are clocked by local seniors. You’ll know what I mean after your first hike.
Also, bicyclists can pump up their adrenaline here on rented mountain bikes. Besides dedicated bike trails, there are smoothly paved service roads, designed for the little hay wagons of farmers. These scenic lanes are off-limits to cars but are wide open for—and a hit with—bikers.
Finally, our hike reached its happy ending, popping out in a flowery meadow at the tip-top of my favorite Swiss village, Gimmelwald. As he had for over three decades of my visits, Walter Mittler was waiting there at his Hotel Mittaghorn. We shared a frosty beer—it hit the spot after my exhilarating day.
Way back in my student days, I stayed at the rustic youth hostel in town. Walter invited me to upgrade and stay at his place, and I did. We remained dear friends up until New Year’s Day 2020, when Walter passed away peacefully in his mid-90s—at the hotel that was his home, surrounded by the wonders of the Swiss Alps.
Walter symbolized to me how important personality-driven establishments are to genuine “Back Door” travel. Sharing this most beautiful spot with friends old and new is enough to make me raise my hands and holler hallelujah.
