WINE DINE & TRAVEL MAGAZINE SPRING 2015

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34 Wine Dine & Travel Winter <strong>2015</strong> Trails, always well marked, meander across lush rolling farmland. The Chapel Bridge, right, is covered wooden footbridge across the Reuss River in Lucerne.
“Easy is a relative term,” he shrugged when I asked about the steep elevation gains and drops. So, finally I understood: Hiking 4,000 feet up, then 4,000 feet down meant my route was “relatively” flat. As Jaisli reminded me to place my luggage in the hotel lobby by 9 each morning and to carry that night’s hotel voucher in my daypack each day, I scanned the trail maps he provided. The print was microscopic. When I got lost, as I knew I would, could I surmount the Swiss/German language barrier to ask for help getting back on track? Would somebody send out a search party if I failed to show up at the night’s hotel? “From 8 a.m. to 8 p.m., you can call the help line,” Jaisli said. “We’re here seven days a week. “And don’t worry about the weather,” he continued. “They’re predicting rain, but in Switzerland it’s always better than it’s forecast. Besides, bad weather also has its charm. Just go, go, go.” I decided to hire a guide – just for the first day. A guiding light Jaisli recommended Rene Welti, a Swiss-born hiking maestro who was raised in the San Francisco Bay Area and lived most of his life in the U.S. In 2010 he moved to Lucerne and two years later started ECHO Trails, leading guided hikes in the area. Lonely Planet named him their local outdoor expert. Welti agreed to meet me early the next morning near the Lucerne dock where we hopped a ferry to my kick-off point. Our day together encompassed so much more than hiking. It’s true that Swiss trails are well marked – but Welti taught me how to read the marks. I learned that squat yellow rhombuses were my friend: They lead to generally easy, flat trails. When a red-on-white stripe is added to the mix, I’m headed for a “mountain trail,” a greater challenge – steeper, narrower, often uneven. I learned to avoid blue-on-white signposts that lead to what the Swiss call “Alpine routes” – trails that might have been mapped for mountain goats. When we stopped for a mid-morning snack at a mountain chalet, Welti taught me how to game my itinerary – how to customize my hikes with alternate routes using public transport (including boats, aerial trams and even a cogwheel railway). It gave me confidence knowing I could take my time on the trail – be distracted by village bakers, mountainside cheesemakers, drop-dead gorgeous scenery – and still easily make it to my destination before dark, or in time to shower on the afternoon I’d booked a massage. Before our day was over, Welti had me lead the way on the trail – and after steering us wrong twice, I began to get things right. Could I have managed the week without his expertise? Probably. But it wouldn’t have been so easy – or half the fun. Lingering images When I reflect on my week on the Circle Trail, a whirlwind of sensory images fills my mind. I see a narrow, worn track that undulates across lush rolling farmlands, meanders across trickling mountain streams and beside the crystal waters of Lake Lucerne. I inhale the scent of cut grass, rotting wood, sodden peat, the perfume of towering pines that appeared like ghosts on fog-shrouded Mount Rigi. I hear the clang of cowbells – a sound that came to mean security for me; it meant civilization was nearby. But mostly I hear the silence, interrupted only by the crunch of my own boots on the trail. My hours of solitude were a unique gift. Being alone allowed my mind’s eye to see in ways I otherwise wouldn’t have. In open meadows, I saw myself as a child on a wide porch swing, snuggled beside my beloved aunt; I heard the birds that once twittered in her garden. Along sunny ridges, I felt the warm embrace and unconditional love of my long-gone grandmother. I could see both shaking their heads, warning of the dangers of hiking alone. Then I saw their smiles. They shared my joy as I nestled into now as if I were climbing into their soft inviting laps. Step by step My days started with breakfast, which was included at each hotel along my route. I gathered my lunches on the trail. In Seelisburg, I stopped at Aschwanden Kaserie, where I watched the cheese-making process begin a few hours after cows had been milked. The way Californians taste wine, I learned to taste cheeses – sampling a half-dozen varieties to pick my favorite: Klewa, from the mountain where I’d hiked the day before. “It’s a distinct taste because the cows there graze on flowers that are different,” explained cheesemaker Urs Aschwanden. To simplify matters, I booked dinner reservations at each of the hotels where I stayed. At Hotel Stern- Wine Dine & Travel Winter <strong>2015</strong> 35
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Page 5 and 6: RON JAMES publisher/executive edito
Page 7 and 8: WINE DINE& PUBLISHERS Ron & Mary Ja
Page 9 and 10: HOW TO BECOME A WINE ENTHUSIAST you
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Page 37 and 38: ing away when I’d had enough. Out
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WINE DINE & TRAVEL MAGAZINE SPRING 2015

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