An early start saw me arrive at Zurich HB (Central Station) for my 7.05am train to Oberalpass. I had booked online a few months earlier so was not sure how today would pan out. Booking my seat on the SBB (Swiss Rail) website was a fairly simple process however I also had to reserve a place for my bike on the first two of my four leg journey, and a bike day pass for the remaining two sectors. This was a bit more complicated as the website didn't make this process easy.
You can travel by train to Oberalpass via either Chur or Andermatt. Both are similar in timings however as I would be riding through Chur on my route I thought I'd see other parts of Switzerland on the train ride so via Andermatt it was.
I thought 7am on a Sunday morning was smart. It would be quiet, more room on the trains, and perhaps a kindly conductor would let my velo on if I completely screwed up with my Swiss Rail ticket lottery and had booked nothing! How wrong was I? The masses of Central station passengers could be grouped into 4 categories - the first were road cyclists wearing Lycra with their carbon fibre cycles, and as lean as a greyhound at Dapto dogs (skinny and all muscle for my non-Australian readers). On the train I would notice this group walk past my bike stacked with panniers, stop and stare - they were obviously in awe of the person who owned this set-up and were thinking about selling up their fast beast and joining the touring fraternity ... or not.
The second group of train travellers were mountaineers with packs containing climbing ropes and carabiners (these travellers were also skinny and muscular). Then hikers with day packs and walking poles (generally skinny and muscular ... although some in the older generation carried a bit more body fat and life skills) and the final group were touring cyclists with panniers and comfortable footwear - there was only one of these ... me!
I was not sure of where I should board my bike so I asked a SBB staff member standing on the platform ... if looks could kill. I'm assuming it wasn't just me but rather any tourist who didn't speak in this guy's native tongue ... I did try with a jovial 'Guete Morge' (Good Morning) so maybe he isn't a morning person. He nodded in a direction down the platform, turned and walked off, all before I could practice my 'Danke' ('thank you') on him. Fortunately, my next three interactions with SBB staff, and conductors on the next three trains, were nothing short of sensational - they were helpful, understanding, and so friendly. I started to think my first SBB interlude was with a train driver.
The changeover of trains was seamless as SBB were very efficient, with easy-to-understand signs ... the SBB app is very good as you can track your progress. Although some timings between changeovers seemed tight, I never had any issues getting between platforms even with a fully loaded bike. The main challenge on the last leg was that the platform to the floor of the train was about a metre difference ... again fortune favoured the brave and I quietly snuck in on the back of a queue of some mountain bike riders who thought I was one of them and who helped me lift my bike onboard and off again in Oberalpass.
On the third leg of my journey, I met Klause, a mature-age student by weekday and mountain biker by weekend. He was admiring my set-up, introduced himself, and asked me about my trip. He was so excited to hear about it ... he had ridden to Rotterdam himself only two years previously although not via the Rhine route that I was taking. Klaus was definitely not a road cyclist!
I finally arrived in Oberalppass on the Glacier Express - the final train leg from Andermatt. Less than 50 metres away was my hotel for the night, the Piz Calmot. Again, like my welcome at the Walhalla in Zurich, reception staff were so friendly and helpful even when I was butchering their language. With the start of my ride only one day away, I now needed to walk to begin my 'source' part of the tour... a three-hour return walk to Lake Toma (Tomasee) officially regarded as the start of the Rhine.
My research about the walk described it as easy. I hadn't realised that the authors were Swiss, and easy in a mountainous country has a different context to an Australian. The other challenges for me were that I was still jet lagged somewhat, and walking in more rarified air at 2300 metres when I was used to around 30 metres above sea level in Brisbane. I had mentally prepared for this as I truly wanted to travel from the source to the sea. The long-range weather report that I monitored before coming away on the trip had predicted showers and a top of 5 degrees, and I was concerned that I wouldn't be able to do the walk. I was elated, with a modicum of trepidation, that the weather was brilliant and the walk was on.
The climb was steady and my legs were starting to feel the pain ... then I arrived at the starting point! After a few hundred metres of steady climb I could look down the valley I would cycle tomorrow. In the distance I could hear the cow bells from the cattle quietly grazing below - truly Swiss ... then the sound of motorcycles and sports cars racing up and down the winding chicanes that the road is famous for. I was really happy to be riding my bike tomorrow rather than today, a Sunday. Hopefully, Monday would see the revheads back to their day jobs.
As my legs started to burn, a family with three very young children were coming downhill. The father stopped when I made way for them on the narrow track, he picked up from my Guete Morge that I wasn't Swiss and I hoped he didn't have a brother who was a train driver in Zurich. I asked him if he was heading back because it was too much for the kids. He laughed, no they were on their way back having been to the lake already, they do this regularly and the children loved hiking. I instantly hated them ...
I continued onwards and upwards while taking in the magnificent scenery, it truly was spectacular. As I looked across the valley I saw a narrow road about 500 metres away and at a slightly lower elevation. I could see a lonely cyclist (the friendly MBT kind) pedalling under their own steam, so slowly yet you could almost feel the pain he was enduring as he struggled with the gradient of the road. I watched as he slowly crept towards a fork in the road - I willed him to turn left, an easier flatter ride across the hillside. As he came to the junction he continued straight ahead where the road became even narrower and steeper. This guy was my hero. I stood up (I was having a break, not crawling) and with renewed purpose and energy I strode upwards. Suddenly I was passing other hikers, young and fit Swiss hikers, as I headed towards the summit. Admittedly most of those I strode past were walking in the opposite direction downhill ... however, they were no longer asking if I was alright. And I did pass one person ... take that you 90-year-old woman with the walker!
As I breached the summit and looked down on Lake Toma I had to admit the climb was worth it. I then had a short walk down to the lake where the Rhine begins.
I filled a small container with water from the lake and plan to empty it out at the end of the ride at Hook of Holland. Corny I know but ....
The first leg of the tour was done. The walk back was uneventful and, with few people on the track, I had a great chance to take in the scenes around me.
Overall the hike wasn't too bad. Plenty of breaks and plenty of water is needed ... especially if it's hot. Definitely worth the effort.
I'm doing this ride to raise funds for Blue Dragon Children's Foundation. I'm self-supported so all donations go directly to Blue Dragon. If you can give please do at ... https://au-bluedragon.givecloud.co/fundraisers/pedalling-for-a-purpose. Alternatively, go to Blue Dragon's website at bluedragon.org
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