Last Friday I picked up my new bicycle - a custom-built Swiss "Tour des Alpes" model. I asked our friendly salesman Bruno if this lovely, light but sturdy bike would help me up the hills, but he told me I'd still have to do the work. And he was right, sadly. But at least there's several kilograms less of it, with easier tires and better gears, than on my old mountain bike. I rode it home from Zug, testing both bike and my new shoes and clip-in pedals. I fell off only once, at an intersection. To be expected, I'd been warned. Next time out, I fell off again, this time despite having carefully removed my left foot from the clip - it was my right foot that I tried to drop onto! Large bruise on the left thigh, right knee dripping blood - perhaps after this I'll learn...

So yesterday Hilary and I decided on a bike ride rather than our usual Heidi Friday hike. We met in Cham and set off towards Bremgarten, soon happily cycling the quiet farm roads of the Reuss valley, through pretty farmhouses and villages. A bit of a hill challenge seemed necessary so we turned off towards Muri and up a steady but gruelling enough 400m climb towards Brunnwil. From the top it was a glorious 4km freewheel down to the Baldeggersee, past a pretty little schloss presiding over a hillside of heavily laden grapevines. Alongside the Baldeggersee we rode, kilometres ticking past, and back through Hochdorf to Sins, across the little covered bridge over the Reuss, and then I turned off towards Hünenberg and home, while Hilary returned to Cham. I clocked up 85km, according to my new odometer - a good 25km longer than any previous ride. I was happy to get off that saddle and out of those pedals! It's addictive though - I'll be back on it tomorrow...

Heidi Day in the Maderanertal

Another Friday, another "Heidi day" for us and our guest bloke, Gary, and we were back in Canton Uri on another gorgeous August day, this time to the Maderanertal, a stunning alpine valley with an access road that gets the adrenaline pumping. Only 3km long, the narrow road up to Bristen from Amsteg twists up a steep cliff, a vertiginous drop on one side and hairpin bends blasted through the rock. A notice top and bottom warns drivers to wait at certain times when the Postbus is taking the road - there's certainly no room to pass it.

True to form, we got lost almost immediately, taking the high road across the valley. Our extra ascent had its advantages though, not only distancing us from the many other hikers and cyclists, but also providing us with untouched treasure troves of wild strawberries, raspberries and blueberries. Back on the trail proper, we climbed again, passing the 150 year old Maderanertal Berghotel. Coffee on a sunny terrace beckoned, but we ignored the call, instead taking the trail straight up the mountain to the Windgallenhütte 1000m above. Some thoughtful person had added the warning "sehr steilen Bergweg" (very steep mountain path) to the yellow signpost, but we ignored this too, marching up a near-vertical trail, grateful for our Leki sticks as we clambered over rocks and roots, pausing for lunch near the top as the trail began to level out. Despite burning lungs and legs, we were grateful we weren't attempting to walk down this hazardous path - and watched in amazement as a couple of elderly locals cheerfully set off down it with only their wooden sticks to help them.

Perched at 2032m, high above the valley and with superb views across to the glacier covered Oberalpstock, the Windgallenhütte was a perfect drink stop before our more gentle descent to the Golzernsee, and a refreshing soak in the lake's cool waters before we took the cable car down to the valley and another hair-raising, bus-beating journey back to Amsteg.

Hiking in Andermatt

Hiking buddy Hilary planned to spend the weekend at her Andermatt apartment, so we joined her there for our Friday hike, Gary given temporary girl status and allowed to join us. The original plan was to tackle the Gemsstock, but when we saw the dotted blue line on the map that indicates serious alpine hiking, and read about a vaguely terrifying "transverse", my vertigo began to kick in at the mere prospect of crossing that glacier.

So the plan was modified to a five and a half hour circuit of the Unteralptal, up through Maighelspass to Oberalppass and then a train back down to Andermatt. We started with an easy stroll up the valley, dogs Molly and Albi occasionally dashing off in pursuit of marmots, those silly creatures that sit atop rocks and chirp, too much for any self-respecting terrier to ignore. Towards the end of the otherwise deserted valley we came across a tiny alpine farming settlement, with cows and mobile milking shed to one side, and clambering across the steep hill to the other side, a flock of sheep several times larger than any I've previously seen in Switzerland, more reminiscent of a New Zealand high country farm, with shepherd and dogs in residence high above us.

Lunch was at the Vermigelhütte, at 2042m already 600m above Andermatt, and from there it was a steep and rocky climb another 400m to the top of the Maighelspass. Relatively easy for us with our leki sticks, but incredibly challenging for a number of cyclists making their way down the rocky trail. Most got off and walked, but several just bounced on down, mud-spattered, helmeted and completely crazy. "Twice in the last half hour", sighed one guy, changing his rock-punctured tire near the top. It was a spectacular hike, though, brilliant blue alpine bluebells lining the trail up, tiny lakes and moors dotted over the high passes, and the occasional patch of deep snow remaining from the winter.

A long trek down the Oberalppass, the winding, undulating rail at the end of the pass busy with day-trippers, brought us to the station and the Matterhorn-Gotthard train. Strangely familiar, this little platform and the cog railway lines - I'd skied here in February, a very different scene and temperature. The lake now rimmed with fishermen was then frozen and snow covered, and we huddled out of the biting wind in the small waiting room. Back then we left the train at the top of the road down to Andermatt and skied down the long trail, but this time we stayed on for the steep drop down to our cold beers and the train home.

Switzerland's Day

Gary arrived home yesterday, after three long hard weeks in Nairobi. Our plant is now producing fantastic avocado oil, the farmers are cooperative and very happy with their new income - but we still have the same old problems with our former "partners" there, who are doing all they can to sabotage the operation and wrest it away from us. They haven't realised yet that Gary never gives up!

But back here in Switzerland it was Swiss National Day, and a glorious summer day, the doleful, spine-tingling sounds of alphorns mingling with churchbells and cowbells, as the Swiss celebrate their day of independence over 700 years ago. We joined them in the evening, up on the Seebodenalp, a plateau halfway up the Rigi, watching the fireworks and bonfires in the villages and hillsides around the lake.