So, I looked at the two paths ahead of me, and on one I saw twisted mountains, and on the other, a simple disgrace. I mean that going down is somehow shameful, and I just don't like it. Therefore, despite fatigue and laziness, I dragged myself up, another two hundred meters of elevation gain. There was exactly an hour and a half left until the last trip, I'd have made it either way.
And so it happened. And not only did I reach Fronalpstock, but I also beat the time on the trail sign by half an hour. They usually write it with a margin there, for those who are not in a hurry. This time I was in a hurry, because the risk of missing the gondola was very real. At the top of the mountain, according to an ancient Swiss custom, a restaurant was waiting for me, but I had no time for that. I took some pics of a little pen with dwarf goats for petting (sic!), took a final photosphere, and rode the benches down.
While dangling my legs in the air, I furiously called Garik to make plans for tomorrow. The weather forecast became more encouraging, though not entirely. I couldn't have done this before - doing everything on the fly, without thinking through retreat paths. But experience comes with time, and besides, everything is done much faster with Google. Maps, weather, booking, and transport - all this has become so fast that you can manage it while riding a ski bench down for twenty minutes. Almost.
In the end, I decided not to return to Baar, but to rush straight to the place where we'd start tomorrow, and spend the night. This was the town of Fiesch (that's exactly how it's pronounced). From fatigue and pills, I was thinking slowly, and walking at random. I've been doing this a lot in recent years, and it's constantly on the verge of a foul, but not quite over the line yet. This time I came to the cable car station, where I was informed that the next trip was in half an hour. So I'm sitting in the sun, waiting quietly, listening to the soundtrack from the cult game Disco Elysium, thinking about my squandered life. And then it dawns on me that in this village there is not one, but two whole cable car stations, not counting an unknown number of ski benches. And wouldn't you know it, I need the other one! That is, to get to Fiesch in a reasonable time, I need to go down the other side of the mountain! As you can imagine, a train or bus bypasses the mountain range in 3-4 hours. This thought gave me a boost, so I jumped up and dashed to the other station. Funny enough, a girl with a dog was running towards me, apparently with the same goal.
Did I make it?
The last photos from Stoos🦵🦵🦵
