Swiss Via Alpina: Lenk to Montreux

The final day of my FKT attempt!

Start: 4:32am

End: 1:10am

Miles: 54.3 (252.0 miles down, 0 to go!) (strava track)

Elevation gain: +13,915 ft

Elevation loss: -16,275 ft

Passes: 12, 13, & 14 of 14 - Trütlisbergpass, Col de Jabari, Rochers de Naye

I woke up in a daze and checked the time on my phone- nearly 3am! Oh no! I had planned to hike through most of the night, or at the very least get going by midnight. I had so many miles to cover (53+) and as usual, storms were in the forecast in the afternoon and evening. I could have sworn I set my alarm, but apparently I didn’t!

So, it was a much later start to the day than planned, but being upset wouldn’t have helped anything. And if nothing else I was really well rested going into the final day!

The day started with a very nice climb over old country paths from Lenk to Gstaad. I was treated to a beautiful sunrise. It was so nice to have a walkable path, versus the scrambly climbs of the day prior.

In Gstaad I stopped for a quick pastry, espresso, and various soft drinks. It was getting really hot and I still had such a long way to go.

Along the path up and out of town I met a German couple, a man and a woman, out for a day hike on the side of the trail picking raspberries. It looked so idyllic I decided to join them for a moment. We had a nice chat and I shared about what I was doing. The man exclaimed several times, “I don’t believe it!”

The next pass reminded me of the Appalachian Trail. It was single track, forested, mossy, rooty, and overall pretty enchanting.

By the time I reached the next town of Château d’Œx I was 26 miles in, about halfway through. The air was stagnant and muggy. I had my last town food, a veggie and hummus sandwich and a coke to get through the hot afternoon.

The next mountain I remembered well. On the way up there are some steep dropoffs, but there are metal ropes you can hang onto if needed. Last time this part felt really scary to me and I clung to the ropes for dear life. This time it didn’t seem bad at all and I didn’t feel the need to hang on once. I do think I’m a more experienced and confident hiker after three years! Along the way up I heard the first rumbles of thunder.

I remembered the back side of the mountain with steep switchbacks going straight through a cow pasture. I reeeeeally hoped it wouldn’t rain, because it was a steep, muddy, slippery slope with lots of cow dung. It was bad enough without the rain!

Well, it rained. It rained a lot! The afternoon storms began just as I neared the top of the mountain. I hid under some trees and waited for a giant storm cell and very heavy rain to pass over before racing across a grassy, exposed, treeless section near the top of the mountain.

This photo really doesn’t do justice to the scale of the storm!

Shortly after, another storm rumbled closer and closer. I had another exposed section I needed to get through, but it felt too dangerous. I didn’t want to get struck by lightning. I hid under a tractor shed, and at the small house across the way a young man emerged at the door and waved me over. He was Romanian and didn’t speak English, and I don’t speak Romanian, but we did our best to communicate with each other. He wondered why I didn’t have an umbrella and offered to fill up my water bottle. I stayed for about ten minutes and kept peering outside. He was boiling potatoes on the stove and asked if I wanted coffee or beer? Both sounded great, but I really needed to keep moving. I thanked him for the water and letting me take shelter, and continued up the mountain.

Minutes later, I heard a vehicle approaching behind me. It was my new Romanian friend! He smiled and waved at me to get in the car and motioned that he’d take me as far up as the mountain road would go. I said thank you, but sorry, no! How could I explain to him with our language barrier that I was going for a record on foot and couldn’t get in the vehicle? He kept insisting and was so eager to help, but finally accepted my “no thank you!” and we smiled and waved goodbye.

As I reached the next exposed section, the sky looked iffy but I hadn’t heard thunder in about 5-10 minutes. I did a silly little crouchy walk (as if that would make a difference) and scurried my way across.

Time to go down what I’m now dubbing “mud pie hill”. I said hello to the cows sheltering in a barn near the top of the mountain and began the muddy, ruddy, and dungy descent in the rain. The trail itself was so slippery and basically impassable. I tip toed my way down carefully along the trail in the grass, trying not to face plant. This went on for 1,500 vertical feet over the course of a mile or so. Very slow going! I tried to ignore the occasional solitary tree, reduced to a burnt crisp from past lightning strikes.

I walked by a farmhouse at the bottom of the hill. It had been raining for a while. Everything was wet, including me and the electric string fences along the property. I got zapped as I was fumbling with getting one of the gates open.

Next was a nice ascent along a paved road toward Rocher de Nayes, the last mountain before Montreux, my destination. It got dark and continued raining intermittently. It had been raining for hours now.

The road gave way to a single track trail and I continued up the mountain in the dark. The sprinkling rain, that had seemed to be tapering off, grew more steady, then it turned into a downpour. I walked along the iconic ridgeline of Rocher de Nayes with city lights to my left, a country valley to my right, wind gusting from my left, and rain soaking me to the bone. It got foggy and I had to turn my headlamp lower so I could see better.

The traverse felt endless and the weather just kept getting worse. It was one of those wilderness moments where I had a thought of how things can go from “fine” to “really bad” very quickly. Now would be a bad time to have an accidental slip or gear malfunction. I needed to get off this mountain.

I felt stressed and scared, but tried not to panic and moved calmly and carefully. It was a huge relief to get to the top, because now I could start the final, long descent to Montreux.

I followed the signs for “1” signifying the Via Alpina. The trail was still very exposed and I hit the worst windy section yet. Okay, now I felt even more scared. I wasn’t in danger of falling but the sheer force of the wind felt frightening.

I jogged as much as I could to get down below treeline as quickly as possible. The rain continued for a while still. It had been raining for many hours at this point. It was getting late. My feet were starting to throb and I still had so many miles to go, all downhill.

By the time I reached the city limits, still miles away from the end, I was wincing and whimpering. The pedestrian paths cut straight downhill, slicing through the more gradually graded roads. Sort of like the line down the middle of a dollar sign ($). The impact on my feet was torturous. The total elevation loss from the top of the mountain to the lake is over 6,000 ft, all in one go.

My headlamp began to dim, so I pulled out a spare battery that I had tested before the hike. After I replaced it, the headlamp wouldn’t turn on. Umm, not good! I tried my second spare battery and that one didn’t work either. Okay. The batteries had gotten wet in the rain, so maybe that’s why they weren’t working. Back to the first battery, which still worked, though it wouldn’t last long.

I still had one non-city section to go through, a park featuring a waterfall in a canyon, with no lights, at least a mile long. I continued forward with my headlamp on the lowest setting.

I shuffled along, now less worried about my throbbing feet, and more worried about whether I’d lose my light source. How dumb would it be if I had to stop and stay put in the pitch black just miles before finishing the entire trail?

I did my best to make good time while not panicking. But just as I was taking a step off of a bridge, it happened. My headlamp went out and it was pitch black. My phone still had battery, so I turned the flashlight on from my phone and hoped for the best.

I spent the next half mile feeling very tense with my phone lighting the way, until finally I saw some soft street lamp lighting appearing through the trees. Thank goodness. Moments later I left the park and entered the city and wouldn’t need my flashlight again.

Earlier I’d thought how it was too bad I couldn’t really enjoy these final miles of my hike. They were mostly very stressful and painful. But as I got closer to the lake I began to reflect on the last six days and all I had seen and how far I’d come. And Chris had left me a voice memo pointing out that I’d be finishing in about 5 days 18 hours. Those numbers didn’t seem real. I did that! I allowed myself to enjoy and embrace the final bit of my hike for everything it was.

I couldn’t really speed up at the end, but I slowly and calmly jogged my way through the train station, across the street toward Lake Geneva, and touched the simple yellow sign marking the end of the Swiss Via Alpina.

My view of the lake after getting some sleep!

My total time was 5 days, 17 hours, 40 minutes–1 day 2 hours faster than the current women’s record, and 1 day 5 hours faster than my previous time from 2023! I averaged over 42 miles (68 kilometers) per day and 13,400 feet (4,000 meters) of elevation gain per day.

This was one of those rare occasions where I did exactly what I set out to do. Every single day went to plan! My only snafu (with a consequence) was accidentally sleeping in on the last day, making for a late night and likely adding several hours to my overall time.

I feel so extremely fortunate to have been able to experience the Swiss Alps in this way- moving over these beautiful mountains and through historic villages all across Switzerland on my own two feet. I feel aware of how I won’t be able to do things like this forever in this exact way, so I am especially cherishing the experience and feel so grateful.

💫

Thank you for reading and joining me on the Swiss Via Alpina!

Please consider supporting Pink Feathers by sharing this letter and joining as a supporting member. Members receive my deepest thanks, exclusive content, and occasional handwritten letters from around the world. You can bet I will be spending the next day or two relaxing and recovering by a lake and writing letters from Switzerland!

Thank you Mountain Hardwear for making my Swiss Alpine adventure possible and providing the best gear!

Thanks also to my affiliate partners for their support:

Mount to Coast Use my code PINKFEATHERS for 10% off your next pair of shoes.

Strava - Use my code PINKFEATHERS for 20% off your Strava subscription.

À bientôt! ~Liz (Mercury)