10 th of July marks the highest point of our challenge. Also the highest expectations built up in our minds during our long preparations for the “Less-is-more-Tour” will they turn into the biggest disappointment? Due to the United nations declaring this year as “International Year for Glacier Preservation”, we chose the “Alpine way of Saint James” to follow all the way up to the glacier of the Rhone.
Already during last night’s dinner our Rotarian friend Urs impressed Robert with the stories of the Oberalp Pass being easy compared to the Furka Pass. But we had no choice than finding out by ourselves. The day appeared perfectly with no cloud and clear air.
Most of our luggage was packed into my parent’s car and only the necessary items were taken on our bikes. The bike trail followed the river Reuss through beautiful Alm meadows, where farmers collected their dried hay. Above our heads the endless sound of two helicopters lifted up fresh concrete to a construction site on the mountain of Gemsstock. Along our bike trail we even crossed the gravel and concrete company Regli in full action to mix the material.
They had a collection of “cement bears” on display at the entrance in shape of a gummy bear. I couldn’t bear not to ask, if the Baehr could have a bear. Unfortunately, I took the wrong stairs to ask and ended up in the gravel tower instead of the office. They already were waiting for me downstairs, when I was returning from my climb between the machines and conveyor bands, asking what I was searching up there. He had to laugh as I missed the office stairways and allowed me to take a bear. A typical Nicolai story – creating some more heavy souvenir to charge my bag up the Furka.
From Realp the climb got seriously steep and we were zick zacking eight to ten times to gain altitude through Alpine flower meadows framed by snow covered granite peaks like the Galenstock. At the Furka my parents were already waiting for us to have our picture time at the highest point of the Tour getting the “Bear” on a photo. Entering the Valais I tried to get on the first trail of the road to get a high view up above the Rhone glacier. The trail ended in front of a Swiss defensive fortress from where I could climb through rocks. I had a perfect view high above the Rhone glacier, the lake and two patches of dead ice which were covered under textile.
My parents and Robert had already bought their tickets for the “ice grotto” a half hour before me and were on their way back out of it, when I joined them. I saw the pure disappointment in their faces. Not only as it was a total tourist trap. The closer you got to the scene the more absurd it appeared. They tried to save the melting ice by covering it up with non-woven synthetic material. What used to be a grotto already had caved in. Only some steel posts held up some wooden beams to make a passage possible between some remains of what once was thousand years old blue glacier ice. It was the total perversion of what one could imagine of getting in touch with the nature of a glacier. From outside it looked like a wrapped sculpture by Christo. Inside it felt more than awkward as you could see how wind, strong solar radiation and extreme temperatures had ripped apart the textile causing endless amounts of micro plastic fibres being washed down the Rhone river.
It showed the total perversion of how human greed can destroy the beauty of nature by trying to work on the symptoms of climate change and causing even more pollution by doing so.
It was heartbraking to see but another reason for me to get myself further into the valley to the real Rhone glacier to be in contact with the blue ice giant which looked like bursting into tears melting in front of my eyes. The glacier mouth was a huge beautiful blue dome washed out by an enormous stream. The real ice sculptures were a million times more beautiful than the cerement covered ones.
Back on our bikes we had still to do another 40 km down the Rhone valley through beautiful forests and villages like in a picture book. The travel was back safe again on a nice bike trail of the main traffic. My parents were waiting for us in Fiesch at the Baumhaus Bed & Breakfast, where we exchanged our luggage for the very last time, before they left us for the continuation of our tour.
