It was the night before , of course the last minute planning when a hostel friend whom I met suggested to take a trip, a few other people and I to the longest extension pedestrian bridge in Gadman, Switzerland. After celebrating our lavish journey in the Swiss alps, the next day we took the train an hour from where we were to Gadman.
Unfortunately, the six of us attempted but only two of us went through due to the limitations of hiking to “Trift Bridge”. I and an Australian pal had made a reservation to take the last cable car one way up and the all day hike to the bridge. I reserved to stay at a hut and I didn’t expect to stay over night so I had a thin layer of clothing and my sun hat. What was to come would soon become a scary nighrmare in the alps. After my Aussie hike pal and I arrived he hiked back down after our arrival to Trift bridge in hopes to catch the bus back to where we originally travelled from. I on the other hand decided to sleep at the hut in the alps. I saw the hut from trift bridge, it took me one hour to climb up to the hut. Though i decided I would move on to the next hut for an extra challenge. I calculated my timing to make it to the next hut before dusk. However I was in for a terrifying aftermath.
I hiked four hours without seeing anyone but the flag signs that directed me to my false pretention, and confirmed that the map was valid. However I had misread the map–two more hours later in was already seven-thirty evening. I made it twelve thousand feet high finally came across a sign after walking through snow caps in my vibram non water-resistant toe shoes, feet wet and tired. The sign finally showed the answer that I was three hours away from the next hut. Thick clouds were rolling in about a thousand feet below me clouding out a clear vision to hike back down. The path ahead to the next hut meant instable icy paths. So I decided to turn around and go back in the direction that led me to this narrow sighted location.
My heart, my breath deprived, emotionally strained, my growing appetite as if I were the bahh-ing sheep that somehow kept me feeling better since they were the only sight of compamy.
There was fear in me I cold no longer afford to feel the emotional trife after a nine hour hike in the alps as an amateur American who is only a beginner back packer. Sure enough, overestimating myself had made me realize the danger I had put myself in.
I finally reached back to the original hut I had planned to stay in around eleven evening. Lucky enough that the lights were still on and two older Swiss woman were cleaning up after dinner that I had come to their door like a lost lamd. Not a word of English, they had to wake someone up to translate. I was emotionally and physically exhausted that I had to let it out and cry. Cry for my safety of almost slipping off cliffs numerous times. Cried for the sake that because I thought it would be a hiking day trip with a group turned out to risk to do the adventure alone, the most enduring hiking experience yet terrifying. I was lucky that I had my two inch flash light that got me through the thick fog, and am grateful I was able to trace back to the path of saving grace.