Walking Inside the Rhone Glacier, Switzerland

Zagan the motorhome has parked up for a few days after an epic drive from the top of the Furka Pass to Camping Tasch in the Zermatt valley (N46.06365, E7.77455). We’re parked up now in our home for the next few days while we undertake our Zermatt Ultra and Half marathons.

This morning we woke up in a different world. The billowing white outs and dark ominous storm clouds gone, replaced by blue skies. The parking area was alive with cyclists and walkers out to make the most of the break in the weather. We skipped breakfast and rolled a couple of kilometres down the pass from our overnight sleeping spot to the Hotel Belvedere. The hotel itself was all locked up, but that wasn’t the reason we were here, we’d come to walk inside the Rhone Glacier.

To access the glacier was through the obligatory tat, sorry, souvenir shop, this one selling everything from cow bells to furry jackets with toy St Bernard dog heads sticking out of the pockets. We made our way, rapidly, to the back of the shop to the ticket booth and after coughing up 9 CHF each (plus 1 CHF, about 80p, if you needed a wee!), we were given a promotional flyer for the place (which was a bit odd as we were already there) and made our way through the turnstile.

An information board strongly suggested should be fit and have sturdy footwear, and as we rounded the corner in the path, we could see why. The view that hit us was simply stunning. I know I’ve used this word a lot since we’ve been in Switzerland, but I can’t help it, the place just is. Dotted along the path were information boards telling you about the glacier. We’d skipped breakfast to get here before the coaches started to arrive, so we by-passed some of the boards (we did read them all on the way back) and headed straight to the glacier tunnel entrance.

There has been a tunnel dug into the Rhone glacier every year for more than 170 years as a tourist attraction. The money paid to go inside goes towards helping to protect the glacier. Sadly like many, it is retreating, and quickly. In the ice age it stretched as far as Brig (over 30 kilometres away), in the 1800’s is was way down the valley and looking at a photo in the window of the souvenir shop, less than 50 years ago it was behind the shop.

These days you have quite a way to walk to the edge of the glacier. It’s been in retreat since they started to measure it in 1879, except for two brief spells of advance between 1912-1921 and 1965-1985. On a warm summer day like today, it can retreat up to 10cm. To try to reduce the speed at which the ice is melting, for the past several years the front of the glacier has been covered up with white fabric which reflects the sunlight. As we arrived at the tunnel entrance, more sheets of material were being laid out and sewn into place.

The material made the glacier look like it was an object in a museum, covered in dust sheets to protect and preserve it, and I guess in a way that’s what is happening. They are trying to preserve it for future generations. Using data collected since they started to measure the glacier, the predictions aren’t looking good. If the retreat carries on as it has been, they believe there will be no glacier left by 2100. To think by the time today’s children are pensioners, it could be gone. This is the Rhone Glacier, the source of the Rhone River – we asked ourselves what would happen to the river once the glacier had gone, but we don’t know the answers.

Stepping into the tunnel was a little bit nerve-wracking as the ice all around you is melting. You can’t help but wonder how safe it is as you look at pieces of ice so thin they have become transparent. However, all the fear and concern soon got swept aside by the sheer beauty of the place. We had the place to ourselves, and took our time exploring the 100m long tunnel. Gazing at the tiny bubbles trapped in the ice for centuries, peering into crevasses and having a little taste of 300 year old ice as it dripped down onto us (what didn’t manage to find its way down the back of our necks).

As we ventured deeper into the tunnel, the light from the entrance faded and we were lit only by daylight filtering through the blue ice around us. It was simply magical. 

Of course photos are great, but they can’t do something like this justice, I shot a short video both inside and outside the glacier (apologies for me squealing as ice water drips on me and Jay scares me).

Soon we were back outside in the real world, but the uplifting feeling of seeing the beauty of nature so close remained. We wandered around for a while, reading the information boards, feeling the rocks polished smooth by the glacier in the past and feeling a little bit sad that one day it simply won’t be there for others to see.

Standing on the edge of the path, we watched the melting water tumble down into the valley through a series of gushing waterfalls and become the Rhone River. Back in Zagan, we set off down the Furka Pass to towards the valley. Our smooth run was only interrupted once by a game of chicken with a coach on a hairpin bend – we won and he had to reverse, probably due to the sheer number of cars behind us.

We followed the river down the valley, expecting the road to widen out a bit once we were off the pass, but geography wouldn’t allow it. The river, road and railway all squeezed along together, the road making the most allowances, twisting around the other two and narrowing where needed. The route took us through postcard perfect villages of wooden houses, window boxes awash with flowers.

Finally we reached the town of Brig, which seemed like a metropolis after the places we had been in these last few days. Jay had a very well earned rest in Zagan (finally getting to eat his breakfast) while I raided Lidl for supplies. 86 CHF (around £70) bought us a couple of bags full of mainly fresh fruit, veg and a little bit of meat. I also treated Jay to several cans of the Lidl alcohol-free beer as we haven’t seen it in France or the UK. Then it was time to get back on the road and start driving up the Zermatt valley to our campsite at Tasch.

Zermatt is a car-free resort, so you can only drive as far south as Tasch. From there you need to get the train. Our campsite is right next to the train line (as is pretty much everything in the valley), and we have been sitting and watching the red shuttle trains go up and down, ferrying locals and tourists to Zermatt on the final few miles of the Glacier Express. As part of our Zermatt marathon packages, we get free train travel for three days and were allowed to catch the train to the race office today to collect our numbers. So Zagan is staying put for four days, while we let the train take the strain – when we’re not running up the valley!

We collected our race numbers and while it all seems a little bit more real, I am still quite a lot in denial about the whole thing. We met a lovely bloke on the train called Walter who is one of the race organisers. He told us they had been working for over a week, some 12 hour days, to get everything ready for Saturday. Even today I could see people repairing the path the marathoners will use to get up the valley to Zermatt, and somewhere on the course a bridge has had to be built to allow for more melt water than usual to flow.

So this is it folks. On Saturday Jay will be running the Zermatt Ultra Marathon and I will be running the Half Marathon. The weather forecast says it will be very warm, but obviously it will get cooler as we get higher up. We’re not doing it for fun though, it’s all to raise money for the British Lung Foundation. If you have already donated a few quid to help us reach our target, we want to thank you as reaching it has really encouraged us. If you haven’t had chance yet, you are not too late. We’d love to absolutely smash our target, and every little helps, so even if it’s only a quid or two, please donate to this amazing charity who have done so much to help Jay’s Dad.

Ju x