What it’s like to adventure around Europe’s ‘Grand Canyon’ region

More than 2,600m above sea level in the Swiss Glarus Alps, in a mountain lodge built in World War II as a military bunker, my muscles are fatigued and my nerves frayed. After three days of biking, hiking, swimming and climbing, the treacherous ascent up to the Segnespass ridge proved to be the final straw, with subsequent tears and profanities bellowed across the majestic range.

Brave souls who made it to the top were rewarded with a lick from Dschinny, the resident St Bernard, but even her affections weren’t enough to soothe our tattered spirits when our guide confessed that she would not have attempted the climb had she known the extent of the damage caused to the route following snowfall a fortnight previously. At her words, the imposing peaks and glaciers surrounding us appeared to take on a more menacing form as the sun sank and the wind picked up.

We did it in the end, but with an early morning descent weighing heavy on my mind, I hunker down into the 12-person bunkroom and resort to prayer. The following day, a decision is made to close the lodge prematurely for the season following a night of high winds. Yet somehow, despite the mild peril, I’m having the time of my life.

This European ‘Grand Canyon’ region – located around 90 miles from Zurich – offers some of the most awe-inspiring natural landscapes imaginable. Dramatic snow-tipped peaks, milky turquoise lakes, lush pine forests and powder-blue skies jostle for attention, while my city-weary lungs take gulps of the clean, fresh air. The peace, solitude and stillness offer a welcome respite for my frazzled brain, with the occasional tinkle of cow-bells (worn by the prettiest of cattle) the only sound disturbing the silence. Pristine streams are so clear I fill my water bottle from their cascade. It all feels very close to paradise.

Mere metres across the ridge sits the Glarus thrust or “magic line” – a rare geographical feature composed of masses of 250-300 million-year-old rocks pushed into much ‘younger’ 35-50 million-year-old rocks, which give the impression of being upside down. The Alps form the collision point of Africa and Europe and this Unesco World Heritage Site Tectonic Area, Sardona, is one of the few places in the world where people can actually see how mountains are formed. An established pilgrimage site for scientists from across the globe, even those of us who failed our science GCSE can’t help but be wowed by this natural phenomenon.

Next stop: Laax. This resort and the surrounding area might turn into a winter sports hotspot by November, but our visit in September proves to be the optimum time for exploration after the summer crowds had dispersed. Some 250km of walking trails and 330km of mountain bike routes run through empty, picturesque forest that hugs the winding 13km-long and up to 40m-deep Rhine Gorge, with its Insta-worthy cyan waters. Visitors can explore this idyllic expanse by train, foot, kayak or canoe, but I take my first foray into e-biking instead. It proves to be a smart decision from our guides, who take us up and down some steep, off-road terrain through Flims forest, although easier routes are available. Using the e-bikes enables us to whizz through the trees at speed and with relative ease, leaving us free to focus on the surroundings.

Fading sunlight leads us to Lake Cresta. With just one couple towelling themselves off after a dip, this secluded spot, surrounded by a grove of green trees, feels other worldly. Despite the high altitude, we’re delighted to discover that the water temperature is surprisingly clement and promptly strip off and dive in. A post-swim meal of Birnen ravioli – a local dish of pear-stuffed pasta with a buttery sauce – makes for welcome, if unusual, refuelling fodder.

A short drive away sits the via ferrata Pinut – the oldest surviving via ferrata in Switzerland. For the uninitiated, a via ferrata is a protected climbing route common to the Alps, characterised by a steel cable that runs along the route and is attached to rocks, enabling climbers to traverse typically perilous rock faces. Equipped with safety hats, harnesses, ropes and carabiners, we embark upon a demanding climb over ladders, stairs and through caves to three vertical rock faces. Despite being clipped onto a steel cable, crossing a horizontal ladder with no hand-rail and a sheer drop of hundreds of metres is still an exercise in mental and physical resilience.

But it’s worth it: over the course of a couple of hours, we’re rewarded with increasingly jaw-dropping views of the lakes, forest and mountains from an unsurpassable vantage point. Initial panic gives way to euphoria as I realise what my body and mind are capable of.

Reaching the Flimsterstein plateau at 1,896m is a victorious moment for all. After a brief pause to admire the grazing cows, we descend the mountain via the ‘cow road’ – a route embarked upon annually by the Alpine herds after a summer spent on the lush Alpine pastures. The animals are decorated with flowers and garlands in this traditional event – which, frustratingly, we missed by a single day – and led down into the Bargis valley for the winter months. Exhausted, we make like the livestock and shuffle down with a bovine resolve.

A splash about in nearby Lake Cauma – or ‘the jewel of Flims’, as it’s rightfully known – is a tonic for weary bodies after such a strenuous morning. Upon our return to the Rocks Resort apart-hotel – voted the World’s Best Green Ski Hotel in 2018 by the World Ski Awards – I squeeze in some spa time before refuelling at one of the 10 onsite restaurants and bars.

Reflecting on challenges overcome, sights seen and some of the most spectacular landscapes I’ve ever laid eyes on – all less than two hours from the UK – I’m already counting down the days till I can return.

Travel essentials

Joanna travelled to Laax courtesy of Swiss Air and the Swiss Travel Pass, which offers unlimited travel by rail, boat, bus and boat on consecutive days on the Swiss Travel System network.