After the hike up to Sardonahütte from Vättis, we were a little bit cold, a little bit wet (and I was massively sweaty).
I suppose if it had been earlier in the summer rather than September, it might have been warmer, and we might have found it pleasant to relax outside taking in the view, visually retracing our route up valley. But it wasn’t summer, and the day before it had snowed in the mountains just above us. (Alternatively, it could be that I am just a Texan and that the weather that day was indeed balmy by Swiss standards and I was just being lame.) In any event, we went straight inside.
Now, Sardonahütte is hardly a hut. It is a large, comfortable alpine cabin. Even the word cabin does not do it justice. See for yourself:
credit: Sardonahütte/Wikipedia
It has three stories, a lower basement-like, dug-into-the-mountainside floor where you take off your boots and coats and where you find the bathrooms and sinks and showers, a middle story with the kitchen and dining areas and an upper story with the unisex dorm-style bedrooms.
Upon arrival, our hosts took us upstairs where we staked a claim on some palettes (having been the first to arrive), and we opened our backpacks and changed out of our sweaty clothes.
credit: Sardonahütte
Over the next few hours, others arrived in twos and threes. When we finally all sat down to dinner, the dining area (part of the new wing that they had added on to the building in the early summer with the construction materials being flown in by helicopter) was full. We ate heartily — bread and butter and generous pots of stroganoff. And there was a bread pudding for dessert, something which lit Trudy’s eyes afire.
Afterwards, we sat for a while and talked with the people sharing our table as hardy hiking men at the table across the room drank beer and told stories and laughed, gradually growing louder just as Gabrielle said they would. And then … well, then there was nothing left to do other than retire, which we were quite willing to do.
As we were getting ready for bed, with the fair and industrious Trudy upstairs scooting our two palettes closer together so as to simulate a queen bed, I went downstairs to brush my teeth and wash up (chuckling at the notion that someone might actually use those showers in that unheated basement in weather like that). And as if to top off the day, as I rinsed my toothbrush I heard the hardy hiking men just outside the window talking and laughing loudly and then — I kid you not — yodeling.
Yes. There, at the end of that spectacular hike in the Alps, for just a few brief moments, there were Swiss men outside in the chill night air under the turning stars yodeling loudly in multipart harmony.