Our hotel was in a very large alp along with hundreds of milk cows and directly across from one of the ubiquitous milking barns. It was pleasant to hear all the cows coming in, each with their own genuine Swiss cow bell clanging under heads, at 5 AM. Like an alarm that you can listen to and slowly drift back off to sleep.

Fortunately we’re not itching to get walking at the crack of dawn, and coincidently neither are the proprietors who put out the breakfast buffets each morning in our accommodations. Seven has been the earliest they’ll concede to serving and it’s generally 7:30. The hike over Klausenpass at only 2,800′ elevation gain was comparatively short but steep with almost another 4,000′ descent on the other side.

This pass and the highway accompanying it is quite renowned as it has ten times the curving switchbacks of our Red Mountain Pass, drawing motorcycles, bicyclists and every convertible for 500 kilometers to enjoy the thrills of highway department amusement ride. Guide books and signs report this as the first Swiss pass allowing motor vehicles. We particularly enjoyed viewing the cluster of farmhouses and barns just below the summit which would have pre-dated the road.

Our trail to the top also pre-dated the road and only intersected at the summit where we co-mingled with wheeled thrill seekers and bus tourists. We enticed one older woman to make her (our) first cell phone photo. Only after she held the phone up did we notice she only had one eye. A faux pas
for sure.

You might notice this was the first day I was able to zip-off the pant legs. Mostly sunny and definitely warmer than those other snow covered passes. Eager to start down we learned a lesson about reading “all” the yellow sign placards on a trail sign post. Turns out there were two ways to get to Altdorf, our next destination, and we took off at the direction of the top and most visible yellow way marker, rather than walking round to see the other choices point in various directions, like comical signs in some travel spots that point to Paris 800 miles, San Francisco 4,800 miles and Sydney 6,700. It was about 30 minutes before we realized that Kev’s guidebook directions weren’t matching the terrain. So we lost an hour and gained about 3 extra miles.

We’re glad we doubled back because Kev promised spectacular steep
descending switchbacks with wooden handrails with killer views and rushing waterfalls, all of which we enjoyed. The view back from whence we’d come was just as beautiful.

A long day, even with a Post Bus ride across the flats of the valley. Eager to describe our evening meal, but you’ll have to wait for that.