A breathtaking and seriously windy drive over the Julier Pass brings us to Engadin, a region nestled in between peaks and glaciers, accessible only by mountain passes and tunnels. In winter, wealthy Russians come to show off in overrated St Moritz but in early autumn the only people here are the ones in daggy hiking gear, looking up at the mountains with big grins on their faces.
Our goal on a bright, cloudless September day was an overnight stay at the Tschierva Hut, one of the 169 huts owned by the Swiss Alpine Club and dotted around the country. We left our car at the Pontresina train station and set off following the path of the Ova da Roseg.
The first hour is spent under the trees, listening to the river thunder off to our right, only occasionally catching glimpses of water so ridiculously blue it doesn’t seem real. The way is flat and easy and runs parallel to a gravel road where we catch sporadic views of the horse-drawn carriage running to Hotel Restaurant Roseg Gletscher. It’s close enough to hear but far enough to ignore.
All of a sudden the trees break and we’re facing the wide expanse of the valley with the mountains in the distance. The path curves off to the left as it starts to climb above the treeline.
To our right, the base of Piz Corvatsch; in front, the Roseg Gletscher; to our left, the rocky face of Piz Tschierva as we start to go up. The path is well marked and wide so we let ourselves drink in the view, which looks like the Microsoft screensaver image of the mountains. It’s unreal
how idyllic and calm it is, especially as we’ve managed to pick a day when no one else is around.
The path becomes rocky and steeper but not too difficult. Unluckily, my faithful boots decided to rub against my feet so the climb was utter agony as I pictured the blisters I knew were forming.
We climbed for two more hours before we could see the hut. By now we were scrambling over rocks, looking down over the valley. The main path takes you to the hut faster but there is a smaller, narrower trail that leads you along the edge of the cliff, uncomfortably close to a very steep and rocky drop onto the valley.
Another thirty minutes and we reached the hut at 2,583 meters, 8km from Pontresina. A warm shower and a hearty four course meal awaited so it wasn’t exactly roughing it. We had just enough time for a beer before dinner was served family-style. We met a guy from Valois who was spending a week climbing up and down from all the peaks in the Bernina range. His goal was to reach over 3,000 meters everyday and he kindly sacrificed some heavy duty plasters for
my blisters, which were now occupying the entire surface area of the backs of both of my feet. Dinner finished just in time to watch the sun to go down behind Piz Corvatsch in the distance.
The hut’s resident German Shepherd kept us company as we drank a well-earned beer and rested in the cool mountain air. I knew my blisters would hate me the next day but in that moment, the serenity was enough.
Bolder and better hikers than us woke up at 4am to keep climbing up but a leisurely muesli for breakfast and a hobble back down was enough for me, my knees and my blisters. I nursed my wounds with a a schnitzel at the the restaurant at the bottom before leaving the tranquil valley. Overall, not the most intense of hikes but the views and experience at the top make it well worth it.
Andreea Nemes
