On old packhorse trails to Davos

It took a few days until the next entry here in the blog. The remaining week with Hans flew by and we were so busy that there was simply no time to write.

But now back to the heart of the Albula Alps, where we camped wild for the second night. At the latest there we realized that a night above 2000 meters, where wild camping is tolerated in Switzerland by the way, is a pretty frosty affair even in midsummer. You can do it in good weather, but in bad weather it can be rather uncomfortable. I hope I can continue to avoid that.

Another issue is that the potentially good places to pitch the tent are naturally quite close to the trail, if you keep an eye out from there and are usually located in a steep valley. Moreover, you can't hide in the forest above the tree line, and Hans has a bright red tent. A true exclamation mark on the mountain.

Because of these conditions, it is advisable to set up the tent late and pack up in the morning before the first hiker shows up. Even with practice, including breakfast takes at least 1.5 hours, and Hans is by no means practiced. So the alarm clock rings at 6 a.m. in the high mountains for us. It is fantastic to be able to witness the sunrise exclusively at that time. But you have to endure until around 8 a.m. when the first warming rays of sun finally reach over the peaks to finally free you from the night frost.

On this morning, we were ready in full gear at this time to take on the next flow trail. Unfortunately, I have to repeat myself more and more now. Simply because we are in Engadine, and it seems that there are no such thing as bad trails here. And so it continued up to a high alpine pasture where the last climb before Davos awaited us. We hiked up to the Scaletta Pass and then followed the last endless pleasure trail on an old packhorse trail, which has probably been used as a crossing since the Middle Ages and was accordingly well-developed.

On the way down to the valley, we were able to prevent a tragic accident just in time. While I was hopping thoughtlessly in the downhill rush over the rocky steps, I suddenly caught sight of a speedy, brown wool ball in the corner of my eye, heading straight for my front wheel. A daring marmot threw itself in front of me, apparently in a suicidal intention. Only an abrupt full brake prevented worse, so that we both escaped with a fright.

Finally, we reached Davos safely and somewhat exhausted, the first stage of our bikepacking tour. In terms of my final destination Nice, that was only partially helpful, because so far we had been heading east all the time. But anyway. The next two days, we wanted to focus on the trails around Davos without luggage. And the weather was about to get worse again.