Goodbye Cows!

Last day in the mountains for me. I planned to hike in a different part of the Engadine valley today, which turned out to be a mistake (or three).

The first one: Bad timing. 
Getting there by public transport took almost an hour. By the time I arrived at Sils, to take a cable car up to the area I wanted to explore, it was like rush hour at the station. The cabin was full of hikers, climbers and tourists, and for the first part of the walk I was stuck in a queue of about 20 people. 

I just couldn’t get rid of them, it was almost funny. When I stopped to take a photo, everyone stopped to take photos. When I sat down to re-tie my boots, or drink some water, a dozen other people decided it was time to sit down and take a break, too. 

I wouldn’t have minded that so much, if they hadn’t been so noisy all the time - one woman thought it hilarious to moo at every cow. Others were shrieking for minutes if they stepped into a cowpad. And one guy actually had music playing from a radio or mobile in his backpack.

I finally walked as fast as I could, to reach the destination (a few small lakes) before the rush. The little lakes were lovely, but the landscape around them less so.

Mistake #2: Hiking in a huge ski area. 
Of course there are no ski pistes in summer, but the slopes bear lots of scars from all that winter fun. They are crisscrossed with skilifts and chairlifts, plus rows of floodlight masts and snow cannons. And the ground has suffered so much from getting compressed by snowcats and the prolonged „winter“ by artificial snow, there’s not much growing on it - and I didn‘t see or hear any marmots there. It’s like the area has been taken over by the skiing infrastructure, without any consideration for nature or tradition. The old Alp hut underneath the big chairlift in my first extra is just one example.

Mistake #3: Taking a wrong turn.
I was so intent on getting away from the noisy crowd, I missed a turn I should have taken. I could blame this on the absence of a signpost (usually they are at every corner), but I should have seen a path branching off after the second one of the little lakes. I didn’t.
By the time I realized I was heading in the wrong direction, I basically had three choices: going back the same way for  almost two hours, into the noisy crowd; or going downhill for a while and then 400 meters (altitude) uphill again to another cable car station; or just walking all the way into the next village, about 700 m downhill from where I was. 
And that is what I did. I decided I had enough food and water to last me another couple of hours. I had my trekking poles, so walking downhill all that way would not kill my knees, and I had enough time that I could make as many pauses as necessary.

It took me over two hours, but I actually enjoyed the hike. I had the path (through a beautiful forest) all to myself, and watched the wonderful spotted nutcrackers feed from the Swiss pine cones (extra 2).

Now all that’s left to do is packing and setting my alarm, so I don’t miss my train tomorrow morning.