VIA ALPINA TREK PART 5: DAY 9-11. THE FINAL MILES

If you missed it, here’s Part 1 (planning guide), Part 2 (days 1-5), Part 3 (days 6-8) and Part 4 (secrets from strangers)!

Day 9: Kandersteg to Adelboden

I woke up in Kandersteg to the sound of steady rain. It had poured through the night and I knew the trail would be slick. I had a slow morning, ate breakfast, chatted with the sweet owner of my bed and breakfast, then finally zipped my rain jacket up to my chin and stepped outside.

On my way to the trailhead, I stopped at Sennerei Kandersteg AG for yogurt. It was the one place I’d starred on my planning spreadsheet. Switzerland has permanently raised the bar for all dairy products and turned me into a devoted fan of fig yogurt. I tucked the yogurt, along with my trail cheese and trail chocolate in my pack then I wove through town and past farms for a mile and a half before the trail began to climb.

The rain didn’t let up and the fog was thick. It was dreary, quiet, and a little eerie. I passed one other hiker, a man with a full pack, taking a smoke break in the dark woods, looking weathered from either the trail or life. Maybe both. For the first time on my trek, I felt uneasy.

I kept climbing, drenched from the rain and slipping on roots and rocks, until I hit tree line. With 4,500 feet of elevation gain ahead and a steep pass to cross, I thought about the article that inspired this trip and how the author had slipped on the wet trail on his first day and broken his ankle, ending his trek before it began. I decided not to chance it and turned around.

I made my way back down and headed to the train station. The only way to Adelboden was a bus leaving in an hour. I felt relieved to be off the trail. It was still raining when the bus pulled out of Kandersteg but by the time we wound our way into Adelboden an hour later, the sun was shining. I wandered around town, then walked to my B&B on the residential side of the valley. Adelboden sits cradled by mountains, with a beautiful river running through it. If you follow that river for a couple miles, it eventually leads you to Engstligen Falls.

After dropping my bags, I followed the riverside path all the way to the waterfall, passing kids playing soccer and families running errands. Adelboden didn’t feel touristy. I walked home as the sun set behind the peaks. Looking out at the valley, with trails meandering across every hillside, I thought- if I ever lived in Switzerland, Adelboden would be the place.

Day 10: Adelboden to Lenk to Zurich

I woke up, packed, and headed to a coffee shop to journal and eat breakfast before stepping onto the trail for the last time. The forecast called for sunshine. My final day was the shortest, 8.7 miles with 2,300 ft. gain, and I savored every step. When I reached Lenk, I wasn’t entirely sure how to feel.

All along the Via Alpina, yellow signs marked “Wanderweg”, German for “walking path.” Somewhere along the way, I turned it into a verb: wanderwegging. Which I defined as joyful wandering. In a way, that’s exactly what this trip was.

I treated myself to an Aperol spritz in Lenk before catching the 3.5 hour train to Zurich. The next morning, I’d fly to Munich and then home to Denver.

That evening in Zurich, I went out for dinner and felt like a quieter, more observant version of the person who had arrived nine days earlier. Days on the trail, largely without service and alone with my thoughts, had made me more present. I felt slightly out of place in Zurich that evening, still trail worn in a city that felt polished and composed. After dinner, I took one last train to a hotel near the airport, easing myself back into the world beyond the mountains.

Day 11: Zurich to Home

I left the hotel at 5 a.m. and started walking toward the airport in the dark. It was only two miles away and I wanted one last stretch with my pack on. I already knew I would miss this feeling- waking up each day with nothing to do but put one foot in front of the other. I wasn’t eager to go home. I would’ve happily stayed and kept trekking.

I’ve never taken a trip that aligned so completely with everything I love. Traveling halfway across the world to spend my days trekking along a trail, journaling, drinking cappuccinos, eating incredible food, and connecting with strangers felt perfect in every way.

When I reread my journal I kept on the trip, the early entries are filled with excitement, nerves and uncertainty. As the days passed, those pages shifted to gratitude, joy, and a sense of strength.

Whenever I step into something new on my own, especially something that scares me, I almost always cry at the beginning. My parents are usually on the receiving end of those tearful calls: at the start of new jobs, moves to unfamiliar cities, and big solo treks like this one. At the end of these experiences, I usually shed tears again, this time out of gratitude. Gratitude for the opportunity, for the growth, for new friendships and perspectives, and for my own willingness to move forward even while afraid.

I’ve learned that the things that mutually excite and scare us are often the ones most worth doing. Leaning into the unknown, choosing discomfort, solitude, and uncertainty, has always offered the greatest reward on the other side. This trek was no exception.

I feel incredibly lucky to have spent this time on the Via Alpina.

Until the next tale… Happy trails.

-Hannah