Hiking over Foopass | Via Alpina
About the hike
Distance: 38km
Ascent: 2 2000 metres
Descent: 1 750 metres
Highest point: 2 223m at Foopass
Solo hiking
I climbed onto the train alone at 06:40 am in the morning. Even though it was the beginning of June, the sky is still grey. I am welcomed to Sargans by a spell of rain. No matter, I welcome the cool.
It is still early, so the paths are quiet. As I ascend the first hill, I quickly forget work and the life left behind. I focus on the trees and the calls of the birds. One day I wish to identify them.
It is the sound that ultimately lets me know I am indeed in nature. Clanging cowbells, crowing birds and rushing rivers tell m I am indeed hiking through Switzerland. These natural songs would accompany me along the rest of my Via Alpina.
Mountain hut life
It’s become more about the moments in between the walking: staying in the huts, meeting the locals, and hearing their stories. That is quickly becoming the highlight of the trip.
My overnight in Alp Siez offered surprising warmth and pleasant conversation. We were only three guests, so we shared a table for dinner and breakfast. It was an excellent chance for me to exercise my meager German, but I happily surprised myself.
We also shared in conversations with the hut’s owner, who told us of winters in the alps and wolves that had returned to the area. I didn’t want our conversations to end - but I was happy to slip into the comfortable bed for the night.
I have a big day ahead.
Ascent to Foopass
The steep climb up to Foopass quickly felt very familiar. Debris from landslides skirted the (roots) of the mountain. Rocks shimmered in silver, green, and red, slick with the morning’s rain and forcing caution from all hikers.
I remember my first attempt on this ascent with Sanna in July last year. We reached this stage at 6 pm, with a grueling 900m to ascend after an already tough day.
Today the morning is still fresh with some snowfall expected above 1 800m. My feet are sticky with nerves and anticipation. I tighten my backpack and readjust my hiking poles, and take my first small steps.
A taste of alpine hospitality
Weary after the steep climb, I snailed down windy Foopass. Cold and hunger had set into my bones since my push up the pass. After my first few hundred meters of descent, I come upon a small hut with friendly smoke seeping out the chimney.
I approach to see a man hauling chairs and tables inside.
“Warten, bitte! Haben sie Heissie Schoggi?”
The old man smiles and responds, “Nein. Aber wir haben Kaffee und Kuchen”.
I am invited into the kitchen, which is small and toasty. A woman sits in the corner writing in a book. She’s writing a journal, the man tells me, keeping track of each day’s comings and goings in the hut.
He puts the kettle on the stove and slices a piece of lemon cake, placing it in front of me. We’re joined by another hiker from France looking to heat up inside. The coffee was poured and placed in front of us.
A finger beckons me towards the stove. Sheepishly, the man opens the door to reveal a single log burning inside. There is no electricity at this elevation, so they do everything by fire, including making the lemon cake. My heart sings with admiration.
I was sorry to leave the warm kitchen table and the cheerful conversation, but I needed to make it another 1000 m down to Linthal. That final pit stop gave me the burst of energy I needed to skip down the mountain.
Soninke Combrinck
I write about connecting with nature as I chase my own adventures around the world.
