The Europaweg

The Charles Kuonen Suspension Bridge

I knew that the Charles Kuonen Suspension Bridge was a bit of a tourist attraction on the Europaweg, the trail that runs some 40k between Grachen and Zermatt, but I had just assumed the 900m of climb required to reach the bridge from the little village of Randa nestled in the valley below would put a lot of folk off. Wrong. I stepped off the train and immediately joined a long crocodile of people trudging slowly up the trail through the forest. I made it my mission to overtake as many people as I could before reaching the bridge. I wasn’t necessarily annoyed by having to share the trail with so many others although it would not be choice to do so, but I was getting irritated by the noise they were making chatting. For me the lure of the mountains is partly the silence. I’ve no idea why people feel the end to witter on endlessly. (Aren't i a little bundle of friendliness and joy? :-) )

The little valley village of Randa

Finally I was at the bridge. Spanning the Grabengufer ravine at 495m long and with a maximum height of 84m it is the longest bridge of its kind in Europe. And it sways. Lots. Got to be said I was not entirely within my comfort zone and it was not part of the UTMR course that I would be looking forward to should I eventually make the decision to run that particular race. The bridge was swaying enough from people walking across it, it would be twice as bad with people running across it. Yes, I know the race instructions specifically said no running but in reality who was going to police that?

This Bridge was built at the cost of 750k CHF all from private investors, the main investor being, i am led to believe, one Charles Kuonen and it replaced, by popular local demand the previous bridge which was damaged beyond repair in a rockfall in 2010

I focussed on enjoying the view from the bridge and soon enough I was across it. I certainly wasn’t the most nervous person there either but weirdly the overwhelming sensation was one of sea sickness.

After another short, sharp uphill pull I reached the Europahutte so I decided to stop and have a hot chocolate and admire the view across the valley to the Weisshorn and the Bishorn and down to Zermatt while I decided what to do next. My options were to head back down to Randa via the trail from the other side of the bridge and then from Randa get the train to Grachen where I had arranged to meet UTMR and Manaslu race organiser Richard Bull for a beer. This would have been too short a walk though. I could also have headed to Zermatt over the easier but longer section of the Europaweg path and then got the train to Grachen but eventually I decided to follow the Europaweg over the most interesting section of it to Grachen. For interesting read “gnarly”

Most folk, I assume, either go back down the hill to Randa or on to Zermatt because almost immediately after leaving the Europahutte I had the trail completely to myself. Happy me. The trail become a lot more rocky and boulder strewn after leaving the Europahutte. In places the path clung precariously to the cliff and in some places ropes were fixed to the cliff to assist walkers on the path. In some places there was no discernible path and the route across the boulders was only obvious due to pink and orange markers sprayed on to the rocks. I hopped from one rock to another while keeping a close eye on the rocks on the slope above me for any signs of movement. 

Suddenly I heard a noise and a small rock tumbled down across the path in front of me followed by a strange whistling sound. Goats!! (possibly Ibex?) Three goats. The whistling noise came from the goats. So goats whistle, well who knew? I requested that the goats stood still and didn’t knock rocks on to my head (yes, I spoke to the goats) but they skipped down the mountain and across the path in front of me just pausing long enough to stare at me and for me to take some photos before they continued to skip downwards towards the valley floor. If only I could descend like that, I’d win so many hill races.

I continued through the brown dusty boulder strewn landscape occasionally looking up to see the rocky spires of the summits above me, the green valley floor below and listening to the roar of water from the glaciers on the mountains on the opposite side of the valley. The sun shone brightly down on the alpine scenery with its vivid colours, the brilliant white of the snow capped mountains against a deep blue sky. There was no shade on this exposed mountain path and the rocks felt warm to the touch.

This bridge didn't look in quite such good condition

Now you see the path...

Now you don't...

Goats!

By now I was getting a bit wabbit and my skin was getting decidedly red. Both sure signs that I needed food and to apply sun cream but warning notices on the hillside warned specifically against stopping on the path in areas where there was a high risk of rockfall and to move through quickly. I didn’t need much encouragement. At one point I was merrily hopping from rock to rock, diligently following the spray painted dots and arrows when I looked up and saw a couple of walkers coming in the opposite direction who seemed to be attempting to follow a route higher up the mountain side than the route indicated by the spray painted markers. Judging by the progress that they were making I think they were regretting their choice of route, they appeared to be struggling on the shifting terrain on the mountainside high above the recognised route. Another walker appeared to be trying to assist them back down to the route presumably trying to prevent them from triggering off a rock fall on everyone else as they attempted to clamber down.

Probably best not to hang around...

Eventually the path deposited me out on to a grassy plateau with an impressive statue of St Bernard, the patron saint of mountaineers, on a plinth at the far end of it high above Grachen. From here I could look down on Grachen right in front of me, and down on to the massive Riedgletscher glacier curling down the mountain into the valley far below to my right and with the Europaweg and the rocky spine of the mountains, including many 4000m monsters behind me. I followed the path as it dropped down from the plateau into the woods, winding its way down the mountainside and eventually crossing a bridge and turning into a small track and then eventually becoming a tarmac road which led into the centre of the little mountain village of Grachen. 

St Bernard, Patron Saint of Mountaineers

The Riedgletscher glacier

Grachen

On arrival I found the usually sleepy little village buzzing with activity, a beach volleyball tournament was in full swing with what must have been several tons of sand imported up the mountainside to form the court. When I saw that I really did think I’d been out in the sun for too long but no, it was real. There was a beer tent, food stalls and a stage with live music. I availed myself of the food tent and worked on developing my sunburn yet further sitting out and watching the volleyball while waiting for Richard to appear as he was in the process of getting himself thoroughly lost while out on a long run so I suspect he was very ready for beer by the time he reappeared. I know I was.

Beer and food tents

 A sand volleyball court in an alpine village. There was something a bit surreal about it...