|  Dwight Peck's personal website
 Summer 
2005  Iffigenalp 
  and the Rawilpass 
 We're 
back at Iffigenalp and this time we're really going to walk up to the Rawilpass. 
Really.  You 
may not find this terribly rewarding unless you're included here, so this is a 
good time for casual and random browsers to turn back before they get too caught 
up in the sweep and majesty of the proceedings and can't let go. It's 
12 August 2005, and we've come once again to lovely Iffigenalp determined to walk 
up to the Rawilpass or bust. Whatever "bust" may mean in this context. 
The present narrator had fun here back in the early 
1980s and ran from here over the pass and down to Crans-Montana a few times, 
way back when, but was breathing so hard at the time that he scarcely remembers 
what he saw there. 
 
  Did 
    I mention Iffigenalp? Here's a fine, low-cost mountain restaurant and "hotel" 
    (1584m), when we visited here in July 2004 and trotted on up to the Iffigsee. 
    (See that here.) Now we're back again for more extravagant 
    fun. 
 
  There's 
    the Rawil wall, seen from near the hotel below. Our path to the Rawilpass snakes 
    up from the hotel at 1584m to the Blattihütte in the col on the horizon at 
    2029m and then launches itself off southwards to the Rawilpass at 2429m. We've 
    got our sandwiches put up for us by the hotel -- Let's get a move on! 
 
  We've 
    left the hotel and we're marching on a fine day up the "Geiss-rabel", 
    a long cone of landslide debris that will get us up on to the Rawil cliffs. 
 
  Kristin 
    awaits stragglers in the party as we start across the Rawil path, following the 
    tire marks of two boys who arrived at the hotel, having just ridden their mountain 
    bikes down this path, as we were starting out. Kids Nowadays! 
 Kristin 
checks back regularly to make sure all of Us Kids are keeping up. 
 The 
hotel below, seen from the land of shadows. 
 
  We're 
    plodding up across the cliffy thing, observing the mountain bike tire braking 
    marks from the two boys who've just come down the path. 
 Joe 
and Teny pause for a moment to dry out from the waterfall. 
 Kristin 
darts ahead to scout for game. 
 
  That's 
    a cute little creek, from which we are still semi-soaked, that will soon join 
    the 
   Iffigbach at the foot of the cliffs, and a while 
    later join the Simme near Lenk, and then mix it up 
    a bit in the Lake of Thun before joining the mighty Aare as it flows westward through Bern (and recently flooded Bern thoroughly) to the 
    Lac of Biel (Bienne) (with a humiliating little spell through the Canal of Hagneck, 
    near Aarberg, where it's a slow-moving kind of bilious green) -- and then WHIPS 
    around eastward again through Solothurn (Soleure), gathering attitude as it approaches 
    Aarburg (not Aarberg) and Olten, and finally -- having started out westward -- 
    far to the east and north of here it slides greenly into the Rhine. 
    From which it turns west to Basel / Bâle and then, oh well, you know the 
    rest.  
 Kristin 
taking a moment to gaze toward the Rhine, in the direction of Rotterdam, Copenhagen, 
etc. 
 We're 
approaching the top of the wall, soon to confront the famous Blattihütte. 
 
 
  And here, 
    at 2029 meters, is the Blattihütte at the top of the wall, where the narrator 
    spent a chilly night in a snowstorm way back in 1981, before dashing back down 
    that path to Iffigenalp at dawn as the snowstorm settled in for the long haul. 
    (The lift lines above seem to be for the military; the little balls on the wires 
    are to keep from being hit by airplanes.) 
 Stragglers 
approaching the Blattihütte of fond memory. 
 Joe 
and Kristin check out the accommodations. In 1981, there was no floor, so that's 
an improvement. 
 Teny 
pauses to bask in the moment, with additional commentary provided by Joe. 
 The 
hotel at Iffigenalp (1584m) from the Blattihütte (2029m). The smoke is from 
some forestry works. 
 All 
members of the hiking party almost burst with enthusiasm to see the Rawilpass 
for themselves! 
 Leaving 
the Blattihütte behind, we're en route once again. 
 The village of Lenk, far below 
 
  This 
    is the Blattihubel, coming up to the place called Stiereläger at 2280m (where 
    in 1981 the narrator and friend Jane tried to set up a tent in the storm and failed). 
 
 
  The 
    Rawilpass can be seen in the distance, but no one's going a step farther without 
    some ham and/or cheese sandwiches first. 
 
  The 
    first question at this point in our hike is: who gets the ham, who gets the cheese, 
    and who gets the ham-and-cheese? 
 
  Kristin 
    picks out a nice picnic spot above this unnamed lake (2343m) and gets out the 
    tablecloth, cutlery, and candles and snatches away the ham-and-cheese. 
 Lunch is over. We're leaving our picturesque little lake. 
 It can't be far now. 
 The 
Rawilpass, or Col du Rawil, at 2429 meters, mid-August 2005. 
 Kristin 
pauses to flick some snow out of her "hiking sandals", which let the 
feet breathe. 
 Rawilpass 
 Kristin 
(at Rawilpass) 
 Kristin, 
Joe, and Teny taking up the cross 
 Poignant 
tableau 
 
  The Wildhorn 
    (3248m) off to the southwest, with its apparently shrinking glaciers. The narrator 
    went up there in 1990 on crosscountry skis and had a wonderful time (except for 
    coming down). 
 
      The view 
        to the east, with what are apparently serious Swiss military installations across 
        the top. Behind that lies the massive Glacier of the Plaine Morte, and beyond 
        that, the Wildstrubel. 
 The 
narrator and friend and cross 
 Joe 
indicates his desire to go a bit farther along the semi-lunar Alpage du Rawil, 
to see what can be seen. 
 
      The present 
        narrator ran this route a few times in the 1980s and the Alpage du Rawil is as 
        beautiful as he remembered it. At the far end of the flat (2380m), the path drops 
        vertiginously down to the Lac de Tseuzier (1777m), which is served in summer by 
        the postal bus up from Sion. But the running route continued another seven km 
        or so and ended in Crans-Montana, a 3:08-hour run from Iffigenalp over the Rawilpass 
        to Crans. 
 The 
Wildhorn, about eight kilometres away and 800m higher 
 Time 
to leave the lovely Rawilpass and start back down the way we've come. 
 
 There's 
the Lake of Our Lunch. 
 
 
      As we 
        accelerate towards dinner, there's the Iffigenalp hotel and, on the right, the 
        Iffigbach getting ready to plummet over the stupendous Iffigfall waterfalls above 
        Lenk. 
 Joe 
and Teny anticipating dinner 
 Joe 
and Teny still anticipating dinner and trying  not to get wet 
 
 During 
the snowstorm in July 1981, this was probably the least welcome part of the pre-dawn 
descent. 
 Kristin, 
nicely tired out from our hike and showered, reads up on the menu for tonight's 
dinner. 
 
 
  Feedback and suggestions are welcome if positive, resented if negative,  . 
All rights reserved, all wrongs avenged. Posted 13 September 2005, revised 5 October 2008, 29 August 2014.
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