If I say "Switzerland," what's the first word that comes to mind? Chances are good you'd say:
Watches
Cheese
Banking
Skiing
Chocolate
The Red Cross
Karl Barth
My answer would be: the mountains. In my mind, the Matterhorn is the real Swiss icon. It's probably the most well-known peak in the world.
My first experience with the Matterhorn was in Southern California. We took the kids to Disneyland and -- lo and behold! -- there it was, right smack dab in the middle of Anaheim. Oddly enough, the real Matterhorn lies not in the middle of Switzerland but far away on the Swiss-Italian border. Which means to get there you have to go a long distance. From Zurich, it takes 3 trains. From Geneva, where I landed, it takes only 2. But people must think it's worth it. It's the view, no doubt.
Which reminds me. Switzerland can be divided into two halves, north and south. North is where all the people live and work (including "my fair city" of Basel). The south is where everyone goes on vacation. Again, it's the views. The mountains are the heart of the nation and the reason it became a distinct community in the first place. The Swiss have always lived in splendid isolation.
But not during tourist season. As I can attest personally this week, the hills are alive with the sound of hikers and climbers. A map of Zermatt and its envisions looks like the human circulatory system.
Americans have their freeways. The Swiss have their railways and cable cars. I am not the last person to drink in the view of the mountains made possible by that revolution in Swiss technology called the gondola.
To be sure, the price of a ride is sky-high, but then again, so are you. To outsiders the Swiss transportation system is one of the seven wonders of the world. To the Swiss, it's merely a way to get from point A to point B.
And then there are the Wanderwege -- walking paths. This network is almost as extensive as the national road and railway system. Moreover, the paths are just as well sign-posted, with little yellow indicators showing how long a walk you'll have to get to your destination.
One of my kids asked me, "Are the times measured in walking, running, or what?" The answer is walking, but take note: The Swiss are really fit. Hiking is a Swiss national obsession. I can't tell you how many gaggles of eighty-somethings I saw on the trails this week. These marching masses have over 65,000 kilometers of Wanderwege to enjoy. Add to those the streets and roads, and you've got a runner's/walker's paradise. I enjoyed my share of them while getting in my daily steps in the shadow of the Matterhorn.
Some people travel to Switzerland to climb the alps. This week, I was one of them. My goal was to summit the Riffelhorn and, believe it or not, I succeeded. You might find it interesting that most Swiss mountains have crosses on their summits.
This is a hangover from ye olden days. To many observers, modern day Switzerland could justifiable be called a post-Christian nation. Why, some argue, should our mountain peaks be used for religious purposes? The mountains belong to all, not just Christians, they say. Years ago a wealthy businessman hired a helicopter to fly a crescent moon to the top of a mountain in the Appenzell region of Switzerland, where it stood for a few days. He said he wanted to call attention to the absurdity of having the symbol of any religion on a mountain. As a Christian, I don't mind the presence of a cross at the summit.
It's a reminder that nobody ever "conquers" a mountain. We are allowed to do so by the Divine Guide -- whether we acknowledge him or not. I would go further and say: the top of the mountain accounts for just one step in a few thousand steps up and down the mountain. Every part of the mountain, and every other step, is important. For me, climbing isn't about conquering anything except myself. It's about not letting your natural instincts (fear, worry, self doubt, panic) to override you. It's about seeing something beautiful in the mountains and reaching out to touch it -- and, if you're a Christian, to give God the glory for creating such majestic peaks. I give everything I have to the mountains and still they give me back more than I've ever given them. That's just how their Creator designed them to function.
To be honest, my climb was anything but easy. Even though I had a great guide.
There were 3 different vertical "steps" on the Riffelhorn that had to be negotiated, the first one having the consistency of recently polished marble.
That is to say, the cliff face was extremely slippery.
Halfway up the first step I got stuck. I froze. I couldn't move. For the life of me, I couldn't find a foothold for my next step. It was only by the Lord's help that I was able to stay calm and not panic. Eventually I regained enough composure to work through the situation. My guide was superb. "Take your time, Dave. You can find that next step. You'll figure it out. No worries." What makes mountaineering so attractive to me is the level of uncertainty and variation, as well as the sometimes very high stakes.
It is truly a "complete" sport that requires endurance, strength, technique, and at the same time a large mental component -- both mental fortitude, a capacity for focus, and good decision-making skills under very challenging circumstances. The scale of the challenge makes the sport all the more rewarding and fascinating. You try to prepare as best as you can in every way, and that's why you feel such a great mixture of relief and satisfaction at the end of a successful climb. That's why I look back to each successful summit (and my unsuccessful ones too) with such fondness. I love the challenge of hitting new goals. This climb pitted me against incredible challenges and allowed me to draw on God's strength to fight through my own fears. But it's the spiritual connection to the mountains that means the most to me. I savor the struggle but I also experience the closeness of my Creator in a very unique and special way.
In the end, mountaineering is just like any other sport. You set goals for yourself. You reach them. You feel grateful beyond words. You get better over time. Each milestone is a personal achievement -- first marathon, first ultra, first triathlon, first ascent. It's a huge part of what makes your life so enjoyable. I came within a gnat's hair of telling my guide, "I'm done. I can't go on. We've got to go down." The fact is, even if we had done that, the experience would have still been extremely rewarding. Imagine setting for yourself a goal, something at once physically demanding and mentally challenging, one that pushes you to keep going and face down your fears. Then achieving it. There's simply a rush you get from standing thousands of feet above everyone else. You're applying yourself to a dangerous and arduous task that forces you to put aside the mediocrity of your everyday life and apply yourself 100 percent to a task you may not succeed in. The act of wrestling with your self-doubt builds inner strength and a greater awareness of your utter dependence on and need for God.
I think modern man not only craves such powerful experiences but realizes there's a lack of them available in our modern "safe" and sanitized world. My Riffelhorn ascent was one such experience, accomplished by a (relatively) fit septuagenarian who'd barely set foot on a vertical route before. Mountaineering is one of the few places left where we are not in control. The mountain -- and, more importantly, the Lord -- calls the shots. It's up to us to survive and move around what the elements are doing.
For me, there's just something very special about that.
