The last days with Hans

The supposed rest days in Davos ended on Friday, when another, this time only two-day bikepacking tour was planned. We wanted to visit the neighboring Schanfigg Valley near Arosa, and then return from there to our campsite in Davos. The timing should have been perfect, as improved weather was forecasted for Friday.

When we woke up in the morning, it had rained overnight. A constant drizzle spread and spoiled our mood. But complaining doesn't help, we couldn't just stay there, Hans had to go home at some point. So we packed up the wet tent and put on our rain gear. After a short descent, we faced the never-ending 1700 meters of elevation gain. So we pedaled all day long. Although surprisingly energetic in recent days, Hans really struggled today. He made a great effort, but I had to wait for him much longer than before. At least the rain subsided and the clouds gradually dissipated as we got closer to them.

After the last alpine meadow, there was still the obligatory pushing section and a windy pass, where some cyclists had actually left a fully equipped toolbox. Mind you, not in the bike park, but in a remote valley where we didn't encounter a single soul. The descent was once again a dream, and in the middle of it, we found some nice grassy hills in a small gorge to set up our tents. Admittedly, this was quite exposed, but we were still surrounded by the remnants of clouds.

That evening, it became evident that household accidents still top the accident statistics. Just as I had boiled water and wanted to complain about the hardships of the day together with Hans, I somehow lost my balance while standing on the wet grass. I could already see myself rushing face-first towards the burning gas stove when I managed to support myself with my hand on a stone. Face saved, but paid for with a bleeding abrasion.

The next morning, we continued down to the valley to Arosa, and from there to a cozy alpine hut for a second breakfast. It was desperately needed because without the delicious cheese bread turbo we consumed there, we would have failed in the next, once again strenuous climb to Chörbschhorn. Annoyingly, we could also peek into the guest rooms at the alpine hut, with freshly made and incredibly cozy-looking beds. After a week in a cramped tent on a squeaky sleeping pad, such a sight bordered on torture. It was really hard to leave from here.

Hans seemed to use up his last strength for the ascent. At least it looked like it. Slowly, we made our way to the final trail, constantly overtaken by e-bikers without luggage, who had taken the cable car from Davos to the first pass to comfortably pedal the remaining 200 meters of elevation gain. But ultimately, the famous Chörbschhorn trail lay before us in all its beauty. It elegantly zigzagged along a ridge down to Davos. A worthy conclusion to our shared bikepacking adventure. However, I'm not sure if Hans even noticed it. During the descent, he seemed to switch to autopilot mentally.