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Distance: | 255 miles |
| Difficulty: | Moderate |
Way-marking:
| Typical GR markings. Very well done. |
| Trails: | Mostly mountain footpaths.
| Best Season:
| Mid-June - November 1.
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Highlights:
| The battlefields surrounding le Grand Ballon. The divine food at the rural, gite Vieux-Chateleu. Walking several miles with one foot in France and the other foot in Switzerland.
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Back on the GR 5
The End Of the Voyage through the Jura Mountains
by: David Novic
As my train pulled out of Colmar heading to Metzeral, my friends were leaving on another track heading to Basil and their flight home. We had just finished a 10-day hike around the vineyards and forests surrounding Kaysersberg in the Alsace region of France. For the next four days I would hike alone through the end of the Vosage Mt Chain down to the valley around Belford where the Jura Mts begin. Watching the countryside pass by my mind went back to when Phebe and I had last hiked the GR 5. We had originally started in Holland and had made our way through Belgium, Luxemburg and Northern France to the “Vallee’ de la Wormsa” outside of Metzeral a few years back. Now I was headed back into town to pick up my Petite Pain, slices of Jambon and Munster Cheese for my lunch that day before I started to hike.
Unlike years past I had some concerns about my health. Working the hours we do in the summer time you develop what I call “standing legs” and a “shop body”. As I have grown older it has become important to hike and walk more to stay limber. Without any real time off in the summer I also get in some golf for a half days exercise. In July I was golfing with our Fire chief Scott Dorman when a thunderstorm came up. As we ran to the clubhouse I twisted my knee, re-injuring an old injury. A few days later I went for a 16-mile hike to loosen up the knee. That night it swelled up like a balloon. For the next 2 months I could only hobble around work as I tried some Herbal therapy to heal the knee. During that time the “shop body” developed sore shoulder joints and a sore lower back from weak stomach muscles. My one saving grace was the first trip to Alsace where I wouldn’t have to carry any weight, just hike.
It was a glorious October 21st as I headed back into the Vosage Mountains In France local municipalities own the forests. Since the Zephyr winds of Christmas Day 1999 they have been forced to maintain the forests by cutting and thinning trees. This is usually done in the cool fall months. As I approached lunch- time I could see a tree fall across the trail up ahead. This caused me to go up another forest road to skirt the cutting. As I re-joined the trail I found a bench strategically placed for my lunch spot. Eating my freshly made lunch the emotional and mental stress I had acquired over the summer started to fade away. To sit there and look out over the valley made my heart ship a beat in excitement. To know I had 16 more days of this made me realize that I was finally “there”, all that you work for was unfolding before me to enjoy and get healthy.
That night I stayed in Le Markstein at the Hotel Wolf. I was met by a diminutive lady of a “few” years. She later told me that she had married into the family over 50 years before. I signed up for demi pension and headed for the bar. As was my usual custom it was time for my afternoon reward, a cold draft Fischer Beer. I took it out on to the deck to enjoy the views out over the valley. Here, I enjoyed the tiredness of my days walk and basked in the smell of burning leaves. That smell was something I had not enjoyed for many years. The Hotels old Wolf Dog just lay there next to me and tried to ignore his more energetic smaller mate who wanted to play. Yes, I was “there”.
After a hot shower I sauntered down to dinner. Once again I was reminded of the rural French and their wonderful customs. As I walked into the dinning room I was greeted by a Bon Soir or good evening from all present. In return I also greeted everyone with a Bon Soir. As usual the dinner was superb, the wine was fine and the setting beautiful. I had asked my host to help arrange a place for me to stay the following night. I saw her go to a phone and call someone. A few moments later I heard an excited “Wal Lah” as she hung up. She came to the table beaming and told me that all was arranged for me for the following night. That night I opened the window and listened to the rain coming down as I drifted off into a wonderful night of sleep.
I have truly enjoyed the Vosage Mountains and all the trail system that had been put in by Club Vosgien. The interconnecting trail system through the mountains and towns is truly a masterpiece of trail building. As I entered Belford I was to meet a friend Rich Edwards who would hike with me through the Jura Mountains.
The Jura are a range of mountains that separate France and Switzerland. Stones dated either 1817 or 1935 mark the two countries separation. It was interesting to walk with one foot in France and the other foot in Switzerland. The Jura region is also noted as the coldest area of France. The Mountains go up over 4,000 feet with views back to the Vosage Mountains and into Switzerland. As the author of one-book states, “it is hiking for hiking sake the first few days”. It always seemed as if we were hiking up with very little flat. Even going down we were able to hike up. This was quite a change from the long plateaus of the Vosage Mountains. As we made our way into Saint-Hippolyte it was getting dark. Saint-Hippolyte is a quaint old town that is situated along the Doub River, which we would hike along for quite a few days. Rich is like a younger brother to Phebe and I. He is a great hiking companion that shares our love for long distance trails. He also shares our love for the rewards we get from hiking. That night we stayed at a Hotel known for its chef. We feasted on Moule Marinerre, which I had grown to love in Brittany the year before. Our rooms where situated on the top floor with views out over the town, perfect for a great night of sleeping.
One of the joys of long distance hiking is the people you meet along the way. One day we met a Frenchman who was hiking alone. His wife didn’t hike and his daughters were too young. So for a couple of days we would end up staying at the same places. From him I learned that the automobile had also changed the French. This area lacked a system of buses we had grown used to in other areas of France. I asked him if it was because people being able to own automobiles. He answered in the affirmative. I asked him if it was hard on the older people who didn’t drive and he again answered yes. No bus system (used for school children only) kept non-drivers from getting around. Fortunately, each small village had a store where staples and the daily fresh bread could be bought. Otherwise the older people relied on family and friends to get them to bigger places to shop.
As the Jura Mountains got bigger and longer we also ran into trouble finding accommodations. The length of our day would now be dictated by where we could stay. Since this is a major cross-country skiing area many people that ran hotels were also taking a vacation before their winter season began. For the first time we stayed in a rural Gite Hotel. The rural Gite Hotel is a farm in the countryside converted into a lodge and place to eat. The Gite Vieux-Chateleu was not only a place for hikers to stay, but also a place for the area people to come and enjoy a wonderful dinner and conversation. As we sat eating below the pictures of the past 200 years of the family members we were again struck by the history of the area. The New York Times had done a travel article on the cross- country skiing paradise in the Jura Mountains and had stayed at the Vieux-Chateleu, which the owner showed us. Since it was not busy we had the room to ourselves. It was big enough were we could get separation so noises would not keep us awake. I would hate to think what it would be like for 5 to be making noises for an entire evening.
Not all things will go well for travelers. Sometimes it takes a while for things to work out. We entered the town of Chapelle des Bois late in the afternoon. We had not bothered to make any reservations as it had two Hotels and a few gites. The local town official in the tourist office told us that one of the hotels was open. We waited for two hours for the owners to return and open up. Finally, a car drove into the parking lot. As I ask for a room I was informed that they were not open and would not open up for us. It was now to late to hike to the next town for a place to stay. Instead we went to a gite, which was being worked on. They weren’t open either. I asked if they would help us to find a place to stay. So they made some calls, everyone was closed. Finally, they made one more call. “Wal Lah”, we scored. She took us down to a place called Les Sabots de Venus (www.chalets-lessabotsdevenus.com). We stayed in the Chalet called Amerone. We didn’t ask its price. It was a three- bedroom chalet on two levels. She made us a dinner reservation across the street for seven o’clock. As we walked to the restaurant we felt fortunate that we were staying inside and not on a bench somewhere. We saw a Golden Retriever outside and asked how we got in the restaurant. He got up and led us around to the other side of the building and the front door. I had roast duck that night, again a wine from the region and a slow leisurely Marc de Jura. The next morning after breakfast we asked for the bill. It came to 50 Euros total for both of us! Sometimes it looks bleak, but in the end it always works out.
We looked forward to getting to Metabief, a ski town and close to the highest point in the Jura Mountains, Mt Morond at 1420 meters (4686 feet). That night we had a cheese fondue with a great bottle of Jura Red Wine. That night we also tried our first Marc de Jura after dinner drink. It would help our digestion for the next day. The day was again beautiful, cool for hiking with the sun shinning through early morning low hanging clouds. As we neared Mt d’ Or (chocolate) we could see the mountains in Switzerland, quite an impressive sight. Finally, we reached the top of Mt. Morond. From here it would be down to les Rousses and into Switzerland.
Since Phebe had not hiked any of the Jura Mountains we decided to skip the day into Switzerland and save it for her to do with me. Instead we took a train to Meiringen in Northern Switzerland. It has a Sherlock Holmes Museum and Reichenbach Falls, where he met his demise. Meiringen is probably better known for its access to Rosenlaui Valley and the hanging glaciers. The bus of course had quit running up to the glaciers a month earlier. So we took a lift up behind our hotel and walked on the trails going to its ski area. We were mostly in the clouds but by noon they started to lift. We sat and ate our lunch on the porch of a closed Mt. Hut. There before us was the Monch, Eiger, Jungfrau and the Wetterhorn. What a way to end a vacation.
As my plane flew back over the Atlantic I took stock of my trip and physical condition. The knee had not bothered me until the last day; I had not taken my herbs with me. My back was no longer sore as my stomach muscles had tightened up from walking. By using my hiking poles my shoulders had gained strength and were no long aching. I had eaten quite well but had lost weight. I was mentally sharp (some beg to differ) and at peace inside. Overall, I felt like I was at least ten years younger and very nimble. My thoughts quickly turned to April and my next regularly scheduled hiking tune up. The images of frisky jumping lambs went through my mind. “Oh to be in England in the springtime”.
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