Baltimore - Comet

I have fond memories of comet-hunting during covid, so I was disappointed when clouds and the city-glow of Baltimore hid Tsuchinshan from me... During our family call, my parents told us how the sky-map I'd sent let them find it, and with the comet racing into the distance and a billion years until it's next pass, I figured I'd give it one full-send try. I wouldn't be upset if I failed, but I wouldn't be the reason I didn't see this comet.

Standing on my roof and scanning the sky with binoculars, I still couldn't see it. Based on the position of Arcturus I knew it would still be up for just over an hour, so I picked some empty roads 25 minutes north on my old motorcycle route and set out, listening to astronauts trying catch a comet to save the remnant of humanity. 

Approaching my targeted spot, I searched for a good spot. I wanted the top of a hill, good western exposure, somewhere I could pull fully off the road, and no streetlights. A mile shy of my target I passed a winery, with a long driveway heading into dark fields, down and west. Perfect. I parked in the drive, grabbed my camera bag, and headed down the drive away from the lighted sign.

I knew I only had 45 minutes or so, so I immediately set to work searching. Nothing up there is a comet. Dammit. I checked the star maps, I knew where in which constellation it should be, but I couldn't see anything. During our family call my dad had asked "Have you tried taking a long picture anyways?" ...And with no other options, why not? I took out my camera, carefully set my focus with the moon, and then took a wide-angle picture of where it should be, still on all my aurora settings, to see what fifteen seconds could see.




The comet was immediately obvious.  Even better, it was lined up over a tree in the distance, giving me a general point to aim for! So I re-framed and took twenty more. Why not? Maybe I can stack them, maybe one is better than the others, the auto-timer should eliminate the minor shudder from pressing the shutter release...

These turned out so well <at least when viewed on a 2" screen> I brought out my zoom lens! Same process: set focus on the moon, point it over that tree, and trigger. Nothing. So I tweaked the aim slightly and shot again. GOT IT! So, of course, immediately took 10 on the delay setting.

Ten 15-second exposures takes a while. Enough for me to start wondering "can I really claim to have seen it if only my camera saw it?" I'm no philosopher, but tonight is about going for it. So I grabbed my spotting scope out of my trunk and headed back to the camera, just finishing it's tranche.

For the next 20 minutes, I alternated between spamming the auto-timer, and laying on the pavement while slowly panning the scope over the distant tree. But I found it! Faint and blurry, but it definitely counts. Eventually, I couldn't find the comet in either the scope or my photos.  I called it a night, packed up, and drove home listening to spacewalkers ride a comet through perihelion.

Custom stack of (6) 8s... Not bad for something invisible

Baltimore - Aurora

I missed the first day of Aurora. Early this year, the Aurora reached Maryland for the first time in my life, and I totally missed it. The reports said it wouldn't make it to MD, and I believed them, and didn't even look.  The next day was even stronger, and I was desperate to see it. I've never seen aurora, but I've been fascinated with it since I was a child, drawing bad pictures in MS-Paint.  And the next day it was cloudy. I had tabs full of web-cams, weather-maps, driving directions into WV, PA, and NY... and but it was cloudy for hundreds of miles in every direction, and so I missed the second day.

Since then, I've been internet-stalking the aurora. https://www.swpc.noaa.gov/products/aurora-viewline-tonight-and-tomorrow-night-experimental lives in my browser, a permanent resident next to my email tab. And every day I'd check the predictions, waiting.

Finally this week, it started showing good chances, the terminator creeping south. Today, the visibility line extended all the way to southern PA, rivalling the previous best.  Group chats were began with photographer friends, and we started exchanging potential locations. We scoured lightmaps. We finally decided on a plan, and a backup plan.  I charged my cameras, checked my memory cards, packed all my lenses.   And then, we had our weekly family webchat. Can't miss the family chat. When it ended at 7:15 I did some final prep and started loading my van.

Outside, neighbors were standing in the street. Apparently we had missed it yet again. They'd gotten texts from friends, pictures showing strong aurora even in the city glare of Towson, but it was gone by now. I wished them luck and headed out in the van, northwest and out of the city.  It was a strange drive, anxiously scanning the sky while listening to the astronauts describe the end of the world on audiobook, but I arrived at PrettyBoy Dam around 8:20pm.

"Technically, that counts"

Jason had texted me that he had arrived, but not where he was, so I switched to parking-lights when I got close (Rant: Use your parking lights at night-sky events! Headlights will ruin everyone's night vision and photos...) parked in a near-empty lot and headed out onto the dam.  There was a creepy moment when I realized there were people on the dam, clustered in darkness, not using any lights. We thought we'd be alone... but we were not. There were probably close to 100 people out (most had parked on the other side), chatting in 3 or 4 languages.  Turns out it was a party. People were hanging out, showing off photos, comparing camera settings (400-800 iso, Fstop 2-5, as low as you can, 10-30s exposure depending), exchanging news from space-meteorologists, and just having a great time.

"A thing is happening!"

Apparently, the burst we'd missed was incredible up here. There was lingering elation in the crowd and some of the shots were stunning. But the night was young, and it was only predicted to get better.  So we started shooting. There was a dim glow almost indistinguishable from a town over the horizon, but in the camera you could see clear bands of red. Knowing where to look, I could finally make it out with my naked eye. Done! If nothing else, I could check it off my list.  Then even that started to fade, and by 9:30 the aurora was barely-visible on film and the crowd had started to thin.  That was about the point where someone said "I've got something on film, over that hill" - and we all duly turned our cameras over that hill and started snapping, picking up on film what we couldn't with our eyes.

<Excited rambling and tripping over words>

It was a more interesting layout than we'd had before, so we kept snapping, and we could see it strengthening in our shots. The buzz of the crowd picked up.  The red patch became clearly visible to the human eye, and you could watch it fade in and out, regions sliding through the sky.  And then, suddenly, it kicked off hard.  A thin band stretched up and all the way across the sky. It was the best thing I'd ever seen. Then more bands appeared and they all started their slow-dance. Greens joined in with the reds. The crowd went wild. Shutter speeds were reduced and pictures were constant.  I dashed off a quick text to my family "NOW. It's going hard" and still it intensified.  Normally, the aurora looks far better in pictures than real life. Now was not the case, as pictures were too slow to capture the ripples of the individual fingers - but the pictures were still fantastic.

"Oh it's still so good!"

It was magical and glorious, and the months and hours of anticipation made the reward all the sweeter. Everyone was talking, sharing their ecstasy. The only thing it's really comparable to IME was the eclipse, strangers all coming together and sharing a moment of beauty and triumph, and we were all just as excited.  The core faded slightly, and the aurora was all around us. North-west had been best, but now north, northeast, and west had strong flares of red. There was hazier red to the southwest, and even southeast overhead there was a gently lambent trident in the sky, like a footprint of some celestial duck.

Quack

By 10:30 it had faded back to the dull-glow we started with. It started getting cold, we started experimenting with even more different shots and camera settings. I checked my texts, where my brother in PA had a great view off his deck, and my mom had even gotten some shots from my old elementary school.  The Chinese group next to us was still super excited, and must have taken a hundred pictures of a stuffed Winnie-The-Pooh in front of the aurora, but the second wave of exodus was reducing our numbers.  By 11 or 11:15 it was dark-dark, and we resorted to checking the space-weather apps (mine was rather useless) but held onto hope. By 11:30 we'd broken light-discipline and were checking out the fog on the water with high-powered flashlights. By 11:50 I was cold, and decided to call it a night.

So I can finally cross it off my list, but it's too late. Much like the eclipse, I'm hooked.


A few random tips, mostly for myself.

• Bring extra cards and batteries. Wasn't a problem, but always wise.
• Bring extra tripods. One dude almost missed the peak when his broke, but we managed to help him get it fixed right before the strengthening
• Red flash-lights are a blessing. Bring two.
• Make sure to defog your lens. Especially if you're shooting on the shore of a lake.
• Dress warm, warmer than you think. I grabbed my winter coat for the first time this year on a whim and was still chilly by the end of the night. 
• Bring a chair
• Shoot a lot, even if it's meh. The practice will pay off

Accidental selfie

Switzerland - Statistics

First, check out this sweet timelapse!

Second, fun with numbers:

151,013 steps*
8,993 miles travelled **
3,150 dollar spent***
759 photos****
24 trains
11 busses
7 cable cars
7 funiculars
3 boats
2 flights
1 uber

*Steps/Distance walked by day

7879	3.6
14320	6.52
14069	6.44
14086	6.39
7584	3.44
16187	7.37
11247	5.11
19012	8.71
13747	6.24
14064	6.32
18818	8.57

**8292 miles by air, 620 by train, 69 by foot, 7 by boat, 4 by bus, and 1 by van

***Costs
$1100 airfare
$1200 hotels/airBNB
$400 food
$450 in-country travel ($350 in tickets, and $100 for the half-fair card. Can't recommend it enough)
About $170/day/person excluding airfare.
(This might be overly honest, but I'm the type of guy who will tell my coworkers my salary, so....)

****Photo/video count
665 cell, 93 DSLR, 1 Gopro - Only counting my personal shots. Probably triple that collectively.

And with that, were done! Here's the last photo on my memory card:

Switzerland 10 - Lucerne II

Today we wanted an easy day, so we chose a boat ride and an easy hike. Short, flat, easy. We woke around 7, as always, to a cloudy day and a beautiful sunrise. I headed down to the river to grab a few pics of the bridges and the lake which are now devoid of tourists, and headed back to the room so we could finalize our plans. Adam and Dani went out for a run, we entertained the baby, and when they got back we headed out to the boat. We caught a ferry across the lake, and sat out on the back deck so we could watch Lucerne recede behind us. Much like mountains, adding a lake turns a good landscape view into a great landscape.

When we arrived at Bürgenstock the cable-car was waiting for us! We walked off the boat, across the landing, and right into the cable-car, using the combination ticket we booked (the Swiss travel app is amazing).  The cable car left moments later, and we were whisked up the mountain while we watched our boat set off back across the lake on the return-run. 

At the top* of the mountain we found ourselves in a snazzy resort. A $700chf a night, $100 a plate, golf courses and private spa type of place. So we set out to hike their snazzy trail! The trail was called Felsenweg, which means cliff-way.  My dad didn't translate that for my mother until we were well out it.  It was indeed cliffy, with great views out over the lake back to Lucerne, looking past the tips of trees that were growing just a few meters (horizontally) from us, but already so far down the mountain they struggled to reach our elevation.  Contrary to what we were promised by the tour books, it was not a flat trail. Maybe flat by swiss standards, but we headed steadily uphill for over an hour. Luckily, the trail made up for it, skirting along cliffs, passing through several tunnels blasted through the mountain, and leading to an ancient elevator near it's peak. The elevator was built as a response to the Eiffel tower, and while it was cool, we felt no need to pay the fees to reach the actual summit a few hundred meters above us. 

With the last tunnel, we passed through to the other side of the mountain. Now, finally, it was all down-hill - thankfully at a slow enough grade it didn't burn like some of our previous trails. We wound through the forests into farm country, passed several Moos and pricey hotels, and when we got to the bottom I took over Sage Transport.  I thought I had timed it for flat terrain... but I had not. Immediately I had to stop to shed my jacket, and then I cinched her down for the long burn. 30+ pounds of squirmy baby is definitely an intense workout, and I'm not sure how my Brother managed an entire mountain (except that he's had 19 months of training, working up from 7 pounds). But a slow incline and a steep shortcut down the mountain later, we casually strolled back into the resort, just as the rain began to sprinkle. I passed off the baby at the bottom of the final staircase, and we perused the giftshop waiting for our funicular back down. 

On the funicular, we saw an animal! Adam claimed it was a Martin, despite not knowing exactly what a martin was. I called it a stoat. Other opinions were fox, groundhog, or a meow.  The boat met us at the base of the funicular (gotta love Swiss scheduling), and our ride back across the lake in the rain was indoors, and uneventful. Some incredible estates around though... boathouses, private 18th century chapels, just boggling.

Who's that P̶o̶k̶e̶m̶o̶n̶  Wildlife!

It continued to drizzle on our way back, where we all split off to various bakeries, cafeterias, or grocery stores for lunch, and then regrouped at the apartment for naptime. After naptime, the rain had stopped, and my mom really wanted to show me the lion monument, so the three of us set off across the city for the final time. A memorial to the mercenaries who died when the French stormed the palace, Mark Twain called it "the most mournful piece of stone in the world" and I agree thoroughly. Great work, this giant stone lion sits above an old quarry, a kingly 30 feet long and a mournful 20 feet tall.  This was one of the other peak tourist attractions (along with our Felsenweg) of the late 1800's, so it incubated tourist-traps around it, which have persevered to the present. 

One of these tourist traps is the Bourbaki Panorama, painted in 1876 and showing 80,000 French troops surrendering to the neutral Swiss after Napoleon lost to the Germans. Surrounded, outnumbered, and fearing to surrender to the Germans, the French escaped to the Swiss border to claim refugee status. It's a cool painting, with lots of foreground props seamlessly blended into the background 360 painting, and would have been mind-boggling in the 19th century. Was it worth $12? My mom didn't think so, but she'd already seen it, so she bailed. However, my dad loves it to a slightly-irrational degree, and it was worth $12 to share his wonder.

Recrossing the city for the penultimate time, we rallied at the apartment, where Sage had a new toy! She got a little wooden cow, with an adorable little bell on it, that she SLAMS. AGAINST. THE. FLOOR.  It's incredibly cute to watch her smile and give it kisses, but we're gonna have to make sure she doesn't "walk" her cow this evening.

Dinner was at an Italian place around the corner. Pasta, clams, and another new white-wine (Cortese, and it was great! Dry whites are my favorite, and a regional specialty here). It was good, but extremely filling, especially after a late lunch. Over dinner we discussed our day (it turns out it was a Pine Martin!), and our favorite parts of the trip. The Via Ferrata received high marks, though my dad would never do it again, and Mürren scored very well overall. Of course, the best part was doing it all with family, so we decided we're doing it again! Except next time will be Scotland, and our other brother will be joining us with his family. Luckily, that's next year, so I have to recover.....

Switzerland 9 - Luzern

Another day, another early morning. Like most our vacations, I'm going to need another vacation to recover.  We found a high-speed train from Bern to Luzern, and arrived around 10 am.  We made our way to our air-BNB as slowly as we making sure we'd arrive after bag-drop o'clock, and (after a half-dozen calls on the intercom and two passersby trying to give us advice) we finally dropped off our bags and set off across our city. 

<Editors note: The spelling is Lucerne in French and Luzern in German, so I'm going to mix and match capriciously) 

As a carpenter: Damn. 

Our Air-bnb is right on the river near the edge of the lake, meaning we're dead-center of old-town. Lucerne is famous for it's two covered bridges, all classical woodworking (so much so that one of them almost burned down in the 90s) so of course we had to stroll across them, weaving our way down the river. The first is Kapellbrücke (Chappel-Bridge), a beautiful bridge cutting diagonally across the river, decorated with flowers and paintings from the history of the town (including one showing a giant, based on some fossilized mammoth bones they found), and featuring an old prison in the center. It is absurdly picturesque and essentially a historical insta-trap. And boy has instagram embraced it -  we witnessed probably a dozen tiktoks and nigh 100 photoshoots. Not that I didn't take tons of pictures, but I didn't ask anyone to strike a dozen poses while gazing ponderously into the distance and blocking the entire bridge.... 

We cut into <Jesuitenkirche> once across the river, and it was a beautiful Jesuit basilica that absolutely was the caliber of the romans, however they were mid-service so we politely and respectfully loitered in the back instead of walking through the whole thing.  The second bridge of the day is Rathausteg , which is much like the first, only shorter (as it's not diagonal, thanks Pythagoras!) and it featured scenes of Death, dancing and posing with all classes of society. Very memento mori. Just upriver, practically adjacent to  the bridge, is the city dam. This limits the outflow from Lake XXXXX <Lucerne. Turns out the town is named after the lake, and I'm not at all observant>, keeping it at a navigable river throughout the seasons, and is primarily controlled with hundreds of wooden planks that are added and removed throughout the seasons. The fine-tuning of the waterlevel is done via the hydro turbines, which generate power for the town while giving the entire bridge a subtle hum.

We then cut inland to see the old market districts. Murals of Fasnacht for the holiday shops, cupids' bearing diamond rings in the jewelry district... you get the gist. We stopped for lunch at a bakery, and then cut over to the shore of the lake itself. Great views of the lake and across into hazy mountains, and a lot of good people-watching and car-watching <more Porsche's than American cars (which were only muscle cars) >. At this point we were all pretty tired, Sage most of all, so we headed back to our apartment where we finally checked in and caught a nap. I even grabbed a few minutes, fading out to the white noise of the happy-hour crowd (they start early) a few floors beneath us. 

Once we were all suitably recovered, it was time to do the city walls! A long walk uphill, followed by flights and flights of stairs, but our naps had revived us, so it wasn't that bad. The city walls were excellent, consisting of 9 towers and 8 spans  The first two towers were closed, but we climbed the third for great views of the lake, and were rewarded with a penny smasher! Total surprise but I've had backup coins ready all week... we crossed across the wall to the fourth tower, which I climbed  to watch the weights, pendulum, and escapement for the giant clock within. The views were terrible, but the engineer in me was satiated. Tower 5 required us to descend the ground, where we walked to tower 7. A long climb from the ground to the tip rewarded us with an open courtyard with great views of the wall itself and the river below us. My parents stayed with Sage at the bottom... I threw a coin at them, which Sage immediately pointed towards, but my parents had eyes only for her and were totally oblivious.   The final two towers were closed, so we headed back to the river to recross the beautiful bridges in a mission to find dinner.

This was almost such a cute picture,
but Sage tried a sudden dive.
As she does.

Cutting through a dozen more amateur photoshoots, we made our way to The Raufhaus for dinner.  The food was slow (but good), the beer was great, and we ended up at a shared table where we talked to two shifts of tourists from Atlanta. On our way back, we had to stop for gelato (of course), and witnessed even more photoshoots while in line. Overall, a gorgeous historic district, mercifully compact on our worn-out legs (only 14000 steps today), and an ideally located apartment. Even if the floors are askew by 1-2 degrees (we measured) the view is incredible, and I can listen to live violin music as I pick out today's pictures.

The view from our room!

Switzerland 8 - Montreux

Today we woke up far too early, and immediately jumped on a train headed south... sound familiar? However today was south-west instead of south-east, to Montreux. Montreux is in the french-speaking portion of Switzerland, instead of the German, and it's a nice mix of the two cultures. Leaving the train station we stopped in a patisserie and I got pain au chocolat for breakfast - I can actually translate most the signs... it's a nice change from the German where I can read all the filler words and tragic few of the key words.  We ate on the shore of Lac Leman with a couple dozen wrens who were desperate for crumbs and cute enough to get them.

After breakfast we headed over to the dock where my dad asked if the tickets we bought online were acceptable for the ferry, only to be sarcastically informed by the steward that they required everyone to pay twice to afford le upkeep on le bateau. Sarcasm. Very not German.

La Suisse was a gorgeous paddlewheel steamship pushing a century in age, updated from coal to oil but otherwise true to form. The captain coasted in before slamming it hard astern, throwing water everywhere while deckhands roped the dock with well-practiced timing, stopping the boat perfectly aligned with the dock.  We sat in the bow for our 10 minute ride down the lake, across from a group of pensioners sipping cider and having a wonderful morning - it appeared they were taking the 2-hour round trip and it looked fantastic. However, just as we were settling in we realized we were pulling up to Château du Chillon, our stop! On the way out we had to cut through the boat and realized they had a massive well in the center of the ship to observe the steam engines and enormous crankshaft at work... I wish we had another few stops just to watch that! Oh well, here's a youtube link from a sister-ship:

The castle was started in the 10th century, built on an island just off the shore of the lake. We headed across the drawbridge, paid our entry fees, and stepped into a mishmash of history. The castle traded owners and roles over the centuries, and was renovated even more often. Starting as a perimeter wall with a keep and a guardhouse, the fortifications evolved until the entire island became entirely castle. Interestingly, the ancient  trade-route the castle was built to tax is now a highway and a rail-line. In the cellars / crypt / prison, the original rock of the island pokes through, forming walls and/or floors - which I always find enchanting - and you have to step over outcroppings as you explore the various rooms  These were gloomy, with small windows high in the ceilings, and their claim to fame is that Lord Byron visited some man who was chained to a pillar there for 5 years straight, and took a moment to graffiti his name into a neighboring pillar, where it is still visible. 

Much of the rest of the castle had been renovated, and features such innovations as garderobes emptying directly into the lake (which could be 60 feet beneath you), stoves that could be fed by servants in another room, and I particularly enjoyed the painted brickwork. Actually cutting and dressing several types of stones was far too expensive, so the interior walls would instead be plastered smooth, and then fake bricks in varying shades and patterns painted to mimic fancy stonework. Other signs of the centuries of adaptation included the conversion of archery embrasures into gun ports, as the technology of war improved. Conversely, the lake-side entertaining halls featured huge glass windows. If this seems poorly defensible, you're right! It was a flex on the power of some dude's navy. To top it all off we climbed the keep which offered great views in every direction, but we chose not to carry Sage up all those stairs so we quickly returned to the crew at the bottom to continue our day.

 Next on the list was a hike. Of course. Why not. This wound 2 miles around the lake, and while the views started nice, I quickly stopped noticing, since I was distracted as yesterday's soreness returned to remind me of my poor choices. Sage fell asleep for her nap, so we kept going until food became a priority. Then we hiked more, backtracked, and eventually found ourselves at an Italian restaurant. The service was good, but slow (very French), the wine was excellent (Petite Arvine - very Swiss-French), and the food, once it arrived, was fantastic. I somehow became tasked with taking care of Sage, and after she finished off her pizza bambino she handed me her fork. After a moment of hesitation, I realized she wanted my ravioli... So we shared those as well.

Afterwards, we didn't really have a timetable. We were in no rush to get back to Bern, and the weather was fantastic. So we sat in the park for an hour, crawling on the grass, trying to put flower petals back onto flowers, and just enjoying the lake views and breeze. It was delightful.

The train-ride back was routine at this point, and also when my jet-lag hit, so I'll skip ahead.  Back in Bern, the one thing on our (my mother's) to-do list was to watch the giant clock.  We rushed a few blocks across town to watch it strike (stopping for Gelato, of course), and it was rather disappointing. While the astronomical aspects of the clock (day, date, sunrise, sunset, astrological sign) were masterwork, the animation - a jester ringing some bells, a king slowly waving a baton, a carousel of bears rotating beneath him, and a rooster halfheartedly squawking - did not live up to the hype. Afterwards, the gathered crowd all collectively turned to each and shrugged, the international sign-language for "is that it?"

And that's it. Only 14,000 steps today, but that was enough. Tomorrow.... Lucerne! Where there's a lake I think? Every day is still a surprise, and most of the surprises are great.

Switzerland 7 - Mt Toblerone

Today we rose with the sun, probably. We we're definitely up and out the door before it had any chance of penetrating the courtyard of our hotel. A short walk later we were on a train to Visp, where we sat next to a rescue-skier. He was an interesting conversationalist, he spends the winters EMT'ing 1-10 injured skiers a day, and his summers traveling. He'd even shipped his Vanagon to Baltimore at one point, to journey across the US before making his way down to Argentina. He wished us well on our way to Mt Toblerone and asked us if we'd visit the tiktok lake.

At Visp we went out separate ways, and transferred to a local train that immediately headed up into the mountains, paralleling the course of the river <Matter Vispa>. The river was violent and energetic, and scars in the riverbed hinted it was capable of far more violence. Sort of sounds like a bad idea to put a train next to violent mountain drainage, and it is! Just a few weeks ago this line was closed due to a wash-out. But it's repaired now and scenic AF. I took a lot of video clips just looking out the windows, hopefully I'll edit them some day.

Finally, we arrived in Zermatt! Another town primarily dedicated to skiing, this town exists purely because the Matterhorn is stunningly gorgeous. Sharp and triangular, it is the platonic ideal of a mountain. We caught a few glimpses of the mountain as we crossed town, making our way to the funicular up to Sunnegga - the ride was totally underground, and blisteringly fast for the angle of attack.

We emerged on top of Sunnegga (one of the neighboring peaks a fair bit lower) and were immediately met with the tectonic masterpiece that is the Matterhorn. We found our hiking trail for the day, and set off down the mountain.... and in a few minutes found ourselves at TikTok lake! I don't tiktok, it's more of a pond than a lake, however none of us know the actual name <Leisee> so that sobriquet stuck. It features a playground, a cable ferry that Adam and Sage took across the lake, and most importantly reflections of the mountain. I hiked around it to get the iconic shot (which was slightly ruined by ripples, but like everything on tiktok I'll fake it), rejoined the rest of the family, and we headed further down the mountain.

Note the slates that prevent mice!

We chose Sunnegga because the trail has the best views and angles of the Matterhorn, and it did. We walked across (mostly down) fields that would be ski-slopes admiring the mountain, the traditional slate-roofed huts, and - of course - some cows. Or as we call them now, Moo's. The peak quickly beclouded, but even in clouds it looked majestic. We also passed a handful of restaurants, which felt rather bizarre. We're 45 minutes into a wilderness hike and there's a full-blown restaurant with power, running water, a beer list... but we soldiered on until Sage fell asleep in her carrier. This was a great excuse to sit and chill, watching the cloud ceiling slowly envelop more of the peak and enjoying the fabulous weather. Whatever layers we'd worn were stripped off and we had a nice 20 minute nap-break.

Napping achieved, we continued down, looping into the forest beneath Sunnegga. This trail was only mildly downhill which made for fantastic hiking, and wove around massive boulders, beneath (and above) towering pine trees, and led to cliffs offering a great overview of Zermatt. Almost a hiking equivalent of Via Ferrata, this was incredible drops protected with only a railing, and the runner-up  highlight of the trail (second to Mt Toblerone, of course). We wove our way through the woods, tasting raw juniper berries (bad, but a pleasant gin after-taste), identifying scat (primary fox and goat), and just generally enjoying nature. After a few miles of this casual descent the rest of the family was hungry, and chose a steep down-hill side-trail that descended directly to town.

The steep downhill was brutal, and the only positive I can give it was some cute black squirrels (who would not sit still for photos). While not objectively as harsh as our first hike in Mürren, subjectively.... I need another rest-day, maybe a rest-week.  Near the bottom we took a break at a playground where I built mulch piles and blew bubbles (for Sage, obviously), and soon after moving on we were abruptly dumped out into Zermatt. Down half a dozen flights of stairs, of course.

"I could build this..."

Back in town, we set about finding a late lunch. I'd only eaten a soft pretzel, was slightly dehydrated, my calves hated me, but I've long ago learned the ideal method for restaurant choice in these situations: Total apathy. So I silently followed my family across the city as they debated the merits of various options, and then back across once they finally chose the local sports-center.  Honestly, it was a great choice. I had a brisket panini, then stole from my brother's heaping mountain of nachos, and a pint of the local lager put me in a far better mood. 

We went out the back door to the local playground and enjoyed the chaos. Swings, trampolines, a cool rocking table that rolled a ball through a maze.... I enjoyed it all, not nearly as much as Sage though, who was enamored of the toys and all the slightly-older children running amok. We were all enamored of Sage being enamored with everything, screaming with joy, shouting over balls, trying each trampoline back to back to back to back. So cute. She's no longer always an angel, but she can be.

The trainride back was the reverse of our morning's trip, and I split my attention between the stream and Sage, who now (finally) adores me. The only other point to mention is the worlds 7th longest train-tunnel. 30km straight through a mountain. Boring (hah!), but very impressive. <maybe talk about easy-ride and how I now don't even know where I'm going even when I got on the train)

And as our train arrived in Bern, we crashed hard. We did make a stop for gellato, but everyone was looking forward to showers and bed. Shower complete, I'm looking forward to lying down and reading a book, and hopefully not moving very much. Tomorrow, some castle!