Hiking with your kids – more pain than gain?

As a kid, I used to go hiking with my parents now and again. But I’d be lying if I said they had to drag me to and fro, up and down those hills and peaks against my will; as a boy, I had already been bitten by the hiking bug. By the time I had joined the Swiss Scouts, there was no denying I shared a love of the number one Swiss national sport. I have particularly special memories of our two-day hikes, which were the highlight of summer camp – though usually only in hindsight. At the time, they tended to be a rollercoaster of ups and downs. Already exhausted from the first week of camp, marked by the rigours of camp life and plagued by the first signs of emerging homesickness, we campers would find it was time to pack up for the two-day hike – without the help of our parents. It goes without saying that some of us didn’t properly pack our backpacks; some were much too heavy and stuffed full of goodies. And many of us scouts reached our physical and mental limits during the hike. But that just made us all the more proud when we finally reached the end.

My son will be experiencing his first summer camp as a Scout next year. But thanks to our first Swiss Alpine Club (SAC) hike during the autumn holiday, he already has an idea of what awaits him. And because everyone knows it’s easier to hike with a group – this is especially true for kids, as any parent can tell you – we included another family in our «experiment». My friend Flo and his three daughters joined me and my son and daughter. The plan was a three-day hike in the Alpstein region with three to four hours of hiking a day. That’s because we didn’t want to overdo it and squash any pleasure the kids would get out of hiking before they’d even properly laced up their boots.

Should I carry my son’s backpack or not?

We had a total of 3,000 metres to climb and 20 kilometres to hike ahead of us. That’s only about one tenth of what your typical Mr and Mrs Swiss hike each year, simply because hiking is the Swiss national sport par excellence. According to the website «Hiking in Numbers» (German only), the Swiss population aged 15 and over hikes an approximate 200 million hours a year. At an estimated average speed of four kilometres per hour, the Swiss cover a total of nearly 800 million kilometres annually. If you do the math, this means each hiker covers 200 kilometres a year – on average.

But before our hiking boots could be put to good use, we needed to take the train and a PostBus to Wildhaus in the Toggenburg region of St. Gallen. Not surprisingly, the kids loved this part of the «hike». As the beautiful autumn landscape rolled by – Indian summer would be providing us with marvellous weather for a whole three days – we polished off a considerable part of the lunch we had packed.

Then the first landmark decision: having arrived in Wildhaus, should we dare the first 300 metres in altitude on foot or take the gondola? A rhetorical question, especially if you involve your kids in such decision-making. Of course we chose the gondola, which made a considerable dent in our hiking budget. Once at the top, a final bathroom break and then onward ho!

We fathers, knowing what the day had in store for us, walked at a leisurely pace. The kids, not realising that they still had 700 metres in altitude to climb, ran ahead energetically, paying no attention to our words of wisdom. Flanked by imposing rock faces, the first part of our hike was off to a leisurely start.

At the foot of the first formidable ascent, we stopped for lunch and made a fire. Replenishing our energy supply through substantial nourishment was high priority. Food was key. But how much and, more importantly, what should we eat? A steep climb was not too far off. It turns out that a mixture of bratwurst, chocolate biscuits, jerky and potato chips is a less than ideal source of energy; the subsequent ascent up the mountain was indeed strenuous for the kids. Already after the second bend, I heard Flo's daughter ask, «Daddy, is it far?» To which he replied nicely, but firmly, «It’s definitely too early for that question!»

After my son was close to collapse several times – at least that’s what he claimed – we finally reached the end of the first stretch. Further up the pass, another 200 metres higher, we caught sight of the «Zwinglipasshütte», an Alpine Club hut that would serve as our lodging for the night. But the kids reacted in a choir of complaints. «Waaaaaaaah, we still have to hike that far?!» came practically in unison. It bears mentioning that they were all carrying small, relatively light backpacks.

And so I found myself in a quandary. Since my son was at the end of his rope, should I help him out and carry his backpack for him? Or would doing so be to his disadvantage, given he needs to learn how to persevere and carry on? After all, it’s not good for me to remove every obstacle from his path. Nevertheless, I went with the first option. And, presto. With their target in sight, the kids ran ahead up the mountain. I, on the other hand, dragged myself along in the warm afternoon sun with my already heavy backpack (the weight of the family literally weighing on me) and my son’s up to our night’s lodging, where I was welcomed by five very happy kids.

Here’s a tip: hike in a big group and get your own room

SAC lodging isn’t just new for the kids but also for me and Flo. Barbara and Bruno greeted us with friendly faces. We were the first of about 28 hikers that our hosts expected that evening.

Bruno ran through all the rules, which seemed simple enough. And lucky for us, because there were seven of us, we got a room to ourselves. That’s certainly not something to take for granted; private space is notoriously hard to come by in SAC lodging.

We quickly got our beds ready and had enough time to enjoy the breathtaking view of the Churfirsten from the terrace. 6:30 sharp. Dinner time. The kids couldn’t wait. After some well-seasoned soup, it was time for Hörnli pasta baked with cheese. Just the thing after such an energy-sapping day. And for dessert, chocolate mousse. At least, that’s what I think it was supposed to be. Though its consistency was much closer to that of liquid concrete. But hey, far be it from me to grumble. Even though the Zwingli Pass hut resembles a hotel, it’s still SAC lodging located at 2,000 metres on the top of a mountain.

Bruno, the warden, told us that for the environment’s sake they want to minimise the number of helicopter transports. That’s why the «Tragete», a procession for transporting goods up the mountain, is held every year at the end of June; this year, around 150 people took part. Nearly ten tons of material was transported by cable car to an alpine hut, and from there, those present carried the material up to the Zwingli Pass hut in a march lasting about 20 minutes. After having enjoyed the last of what the evening had to offer on the terrace, we fell into bed utterly exhausted – the adults with the benefit of a few glasses of red wine – at only 9 p.m.

Unfortunately, actually sleeping was out of the question. Because as luck would have it, the WC was right on the other side of the wall. Every time someone yanked the toilet paper out of the dispenser, the resulting clatter of the dispenser’s metallic cover resounded like that of a Wild-West shoot-out. When I mentioned this to Bruno, the hut warden, he promised he’d move the dispenser elsewhere.

Appenzeller hospitality

Nevertheless, I ended up getting a good sleep, and as I found out in the morning, so did the kids. After breakfast, around 10 a.m., we were ready to begin our second day’s trek. But first the blister on my daughter’s heel had to be lanced and covered with a plaster. Which I did quite nicely, I must add.

Day #2 would be relatively easy, given it’d be almost all downhill to «Fählensee», our lake destination. The good thing about a comparatively short hike of three hours is the ample time for breaks, which suited the kids perfectly. They were more than happy to explore the terrain by running around and goofing off. Meanwhile, Flo and I were annoyed that we didn’t have binoculars with us. That’s because after just having crossed into the canton of Appenzell, we’d spotted movement far up on a ridge and couldn’t tell what kind of animal was up there.

Half an hour later, however, the mystery had been solved. Thanks to my eagle eye, I’d spotted a herd of chamois. Amazed, we sat at the foot of a huge rock face and watched the animals graze. A pleasant feeling washed over me: happiness and gratitude that I could give my children memorable moments like these in the great outdoors.

Finally. We’d reached Lake Fählen and the mountain restaurant we wanted to stop at. But first I wanted to make a fire and grill our sausages; I’d already started setting up at a spot previous grillers had used, but I’d hardly gotten the fire lit and smoke spewing when the proprietor came rushing out, and boy, did she look angry. She made it rather clear that fires weren’t allowed. It dawned on me that would, of course, be the case; you wouldn’t want the restaurant to risk losing business. But at least she spared me the humiliation of having to admit that I couldn’t have made a decent fire anyway, given there was hardly any wood to be found.

We ended up spending almost four hours in the restaurant because our day’s destination, the «Hundsteinhütte», was within view and only another 100 metres up. While the kids had a ball on the playground, we fathers treated ourselves to a few beers and, in preparation for the final stretch, a «Kaffee Lutz» (Swiss drink containing coffee and alcohol). During this time, I also took the opportunity to thumb through a book entitled «Appenzeller Witze» (Appenzell Jokes) and found myself laughing to jokes such as this one: «Grandfather, why is my native language called my mother tongue?» The grandfather answered: «Because your father can’t get in a single word!»

Hut warden Peter: from burnout to the perfect host

Shortly after 4 p.m. we reached the Hundstein hut. Peter, the hut warden, was in the middle of cooking and couldn’t help us new arrivals. Oh, well. Another beer for us fathers and some time to explore for the kids. The evening sun bathed the landscape in a warm light, which reflected off of the mirror-like Lake Fählen below us. The kids soon pronounced their verdict on our second hut. Although it wasn’t quite as remote and didn’t boast the same views as its predecessor, it scored big on cabin charm.

Hut warden Peter also contributed to the ambience. Eight years ago, the now 67-year-old entrepreneur experienced a burnout that compelled him to forge a new path. This led him to the Hundstein hut three years ago; he’s now its warden and tenant.

And a very devoted warden and tenant at that. The kids benefited from how he runs the place – with just the right amount of camaraderie and fatherly authority. Luck was once again with us and, being a seven-member group, we got our own room.

Just like on our first evening, a highlight for the kids was getting their beds ready. Preparations entailed covering the pillows with their own special pillowcases brought from home and spreading out the the Inlet Travel Sheets that had also been dragged along for the journey.

Dinner was at half past six. And it was soon clear why Peter hadn’t had time to greet us and the other six guests right away. The food laid out on the table before us was simply fantastic. First on the list, a spicy leek and pea soup, followed by a delicious salad and the main course: pasta with a fine chicken and mushroom sauce. For dessert, a pineapple-vanilla mousse, which this time lived up to its name. And because of the cosy atmosphere, a bottle of red wine for the dads – sleeping definitely wouldn’t be an issue.

Peter to the rescue

Day #3: We all slept pretty well and were only mildly plagued by sore muscles and aches from our first two days of hiking. Breakfast at eight. Once again, props to Peter. This time for his homemade bread and Bircher muesli.

So no wonder he didn’t appreciate finding yet another crust of bread on my daughter’s plate while collecting the dishes. «I always told my children there’s no such thing as hard bread. Hard is when you don’t have any bread.» Although he had sugar coated it, the message was still hard to swallow. But soon it was time to look at the map; the route we’d be taking to Brülisau seemed far from exciting – at least for me. That’s because it runs in a somewhat unspectacular fashion through a partly shaded valley. I looked longingly up above the valley to a trail along the ridge, which lead to the Hoher Kasten mountain. From there, we could take a cable car down to Brülisau. But alas, my cajoling and coaxing was of no use. The kids – and to my great disappointment also Flo – refused to be dissuaded from taking the boring route. «Stick to the plan» is how Flo single-handedly ended the discussion – at least until Peter unexpectedly jumped to my rescue. Upon learning that we intended to reach Brülisau by the valley route, he staunchly discouraged us: «Children, I promise you, if you choose the ridge route, you’ll be rewarded with an incredible view. And on the Hoher Kasten, there’s even a revolving restaurant.» I don’t know how Peter did it – and yes, I must admit I was a bit offended – but within seconds he had caused everyone to rethink their decision. So we actually ended up taking the more demanding, yet more beautiful, route.

The high road is the way to go

Even if the others didn’t want to admit it, the change in plans was definitely worth it. Thirty minutes after having passed Lake Fählen, we reached the «Letzi Saxerlücke» pass.

Another quarter of an hour later, we were standing at the top of the ridge. What a fantastic lookout over the Rhine valley, which, for the most part, was still under a blanket of fog.

From there on, we’d plow on more or less straight ahead to the Hoher Kasten – or so we thought, perhaps because Peter had referred to a veritable highway when we had asked him if the trail was particularly exposed. It really wasn’t, but the highway comparison was a bit exaggerated. The trail tended to meander, either up or down along the rock face. I was amazed the kids showed almost no signs of fatigue, even on that third day.

Self-satisfied, I looked down the slope again and again to that far off and partly shaded route we had almost taken. After about three hours, we finally reached the Hoher Kasten, the final ascent to the mountain station being one of the most challenging of the hike. But even this last gruelling stretch was met by the kids with a surprising lack of complaints.

Worth more than a trip to the revolving restaurant

Then the big surprise at the top. Suddenly, the day no longer revolved around the revolving restaurant, which had been the deciding factor in the decision to switch routes. Proud, but also tired, the kids only wanted one thing: to go home. To the relief of us fathers, the kids were all for riding the big (free) gondola, affectionately called «Gofen» in Appenzell, down to the valley. Because even a hike through the mountains doesn’t come cheap. Two nights with half board cost me 300 francs – not including the 5 kilogrammes of snacks consisting of sweets, jerky and crisps.

Speaking of kilos, the only resulting physical ailment of our three-day hike was my lumbago. No wonder. The backpack I sported for this rather challenging expedition wasn’t exactly light. Anyway, homeward bound we went, catching a bus then train. While the kids played one last round of «President» (a popular card game) on the train, we dads treated ourselves to one last beer. The seats in front and behind us remained empty, probably because we didn’t exactly smell like fresh lilies of the valley after three days of hiking without a shower. At the end of the line, there was good old Mum, who, to my delight, apparently hadn't had a nervous breakdown when we remained unreachable – due to a radio blackout – for 24 hours straight. I admit I was a little proud to be bringing home to my wife two tired but unharmed kids. In the following hour, I didn’t say very much, not because I was bushed but because the kids had so many exciting things to tell their mum that I simply couldn’t get a word in. A wave of content emanated through me, despite my exhaustion. I have to say I’m still amazed at how well the kids did during those three days of hiking. I’m really happy that I’ve been able to foster in my kids a fascination of and love for the mountains and nature in general.

Although this was our first overnight hiking trip in the mountains, it’s almost certainly not our last. And now I know for the next time, if I’m trying to convince everyone to go for a slightly more challenging route, I just need play my ace. Revolving restaurant, anyone?

Cartoon: Stephan Lütolf