Main image: Towering cliffs and steep valleys are typical throughout the Glarus Alps | Credit: Richard Hartfield
Amongst the avalanche debris, the rockslides and the fresh growth of spring, the mountains in the Glarus Valley don’t take long to reclaim the hiking trails. I’d had been cutting weeds and clearing rock since the first rays of sun tipped over the surrounding peaks that morning. By lunchtime, I and my companion were working without any shade. I lowered my pick axe as an approaching backpacker passed us. He said he’d come from Belgium to hike the entire Via Alpina long distance trail. I recognised his tired but contented smile. A smile like that could only have been earned after many days spent hiking in the mountains.
I’d often enjoyed the same feeling, but for once I wasn’t spending my summer walking a long-distance trail. I was helping to maintain one instead. In 2022, I joined local hostel-owner Florian as a volunteer, helping him to carry out seasonal maintenance work on the marked footpaths above the tiny village of Matt, in the Swiss Alps.
During my first stay in April, I watched the spring snow begin to melt, and the meadows beneath burst open with flowers. I’d watched as the same peaks succumb to rain, sun or more snow. By my second stay, in June, the mountains had come to feel like old friends, and the paths that we cleared allowed cows to graze the higher meadows once more. As the first hikers arrived, it dawned on me that it was only through the tireless work of people like Florian that they – we – had trails to walk on at all.
At home in Matt
“Of all the places to come, why did you come here?” a puzzled guest stopped to ask me as I cleaned one of the rooms in Florian’s hostel. The little village of Matt sits beneath the end of the Sernf valley in the central Swiss canton of Glarus. Crowds don’t flock to Glarus, perhaps because it has no large ski resorts or 4000-metre-high peaks. Nevertheless, the mountains here are steep. Immense cliffs rise to bisect a maze of valleys between the main range of the Alps and the great plateau of northern Switzerland. Because of its uncompromising topography, the Glarus Alps have never been a thoroughfare. In October of 1799, whilst retreating from French Revolutionary forces, Russian general Alexander Suvorov was forced to lead an army of 18,000 men over the 2400-metre-high Panixer Pass, at the end of the Sernf valley. Two thousand of them perished in the deep snow or by falling into ravines.
Within close proximity to Zurich, Glarus makes a popular quiet getaway for discerning Swiss hikers. You won’t meet many foreigners there, and that was exactly why I had come. I wanted to see mountains through the eyes of people who were living and working in them, not just as a passing tourist.
The Aktivhostel Hängematt is owned by Florian and Nicole, a couple in their late thirties. They pressed pause on their own adventures, which included kitesurfing, bike-touring across South America and walking the Pacific Crest Trail, to set up the hostel whilst raising their two young children. On the face of it, Florian and Nicole needed some help building a new apartment in their attic, as well as running the hostel, but it was clear they enjoyed hosting foreign visitors.
Florian explained to me that it felt “like going travelling, but without having to leave home”. When l first arrived in April, it was still the low season for tourism and the Sernf valley felt very empty. “It’s very quiet here, but if you love the mountains then you’ll be in paradise,” Nicole said over our first breakfast. Florian listed the local wildlife, which included golden eagles, ibex, wolves and the Eurasian lynx. I replied that I was keen to spot some chamois (mountain goats). Florian pulled me to the kitchen window and exclaimed: “Oh ja, there – you see!” Just 50 metres away, a group of chamois stood casually grazing on the meadow, where the snow line had given way to grass. I was immediately sold on the place.
Helping out
Rain lashed against the windows as yet another thunderstorm descended upon the valley. Today I was glad to be indoors, pinning a large piece of plasterboard against wooden roof beams. In between running the hostel, Florian was somehow still carving out time to build the family an attic apartment. As a skilled carpenter, he judged angles and measurements as much by intuition as by tape measure. I couldn’t believe the rate and fluidity of his work.
In the time it took me to clumsily remove some rusty nails from a bit of wood, Florian had constructed the frame for an entire wall. Fortunately for me, Florian was as patient a teacher as he was a talented carpenter, and he always found some way for me to get involved. Mornings began with us eating breakfast together and sussing out the weather for the coming day. I’d help to clean rooms, wash dishes or get on with some other task for four to five hours, five days per week. In my free time, I’d open a map of the valley with Florian, and he’d suggest the best places to explore.
Exploring the area
Spring in the Glarus Alps is an in-between period. Slushy snow can make skiing and hiking unappealing to the locals, and even the farmers remained in the valley until it had melted. This meant that I was alone in my exploration of my new backyard, something I loved. Thick snow still carpeted the high mountains in a deep silence, broken only by the crunching of my snowshoes. Climbing above the tree line, I wandered past mountain huts still buried up to their rooftops by snowdrifts. Footprints left by badgers and chamois led me through the forests. I’d never quite appreciated just how many animals used hiking trails to get about. It dawned on me that all creatures will take the easiest line across a landscape, not just people.
Reaching a snowy plateau at over 2000 metres, I stood silently as a rock ptarmigan appeared from behind a boulder right beside me. Its feathers were white and mottled grey, to blend in perfectly with the winter surroundings. I felt lucky to have had such a close encounter with such a beautiful animal. The high avalanche risk and fewer daylight hours meant that I couldn’t climb the highest peaks or cover much distance during April, but when I returned in June the snow had gone. That meant that I was able to join Florian and his colleague Heidi as they carried out trail maintenance for the local cantonal community.
Trail Angels
Heidi was born locally in the village of Engi and has lived in the Glarus Alps for over 40 years. As a young woman, she helped out on local farms before working as a warden in busy mountain huts. A decade ago, she moved on to the quieter work of trail maintenance and ski patrolling. “It gives you a different view on nature. You start to look more closely,” Heidi explained. “I love this valley. I’ve always felt that I should live here. It just feels right,” she smiled. l learned that Heidi had recently helped to design and waymark a brand new long distance hiking route called the Via Glaralpina. She had explored virtually every corner of the mountains around Glarus.
Our day of trail work began with an unusual commute. We were collected by helicopter and flown up to the 2600-metre-high Segnes Pass at the head of the valley! As we ascended, a rocky col appeared above, surrounded on either side by a cirque of towering cliffs. Scree and old moraine fell away beneath our feet towards the distant tree line. From the pass, we watched the helicopter tear off back down the mountain. What would have been a two-hour hike had taken less than five minutes, and the temperature had plummeted by over 10 degrees.
Our job was to clear a narrow trail through the steep gorge of the Biflenbach on the route back down to the valley. Heidi had worked on the footpath many times before and warned that it was prone to rock falls during the winter, which meant we had a lot of work to do.
Geology lesson
As I scraped away piles of shale and dragged small boulders from the trail, I began to understand the difference in perspective that Heidi spoke about. The more I looked at the rocks in my hands, the more the colours and textures leapt out at me. Quartz crystals were sandwiched between other beautifully-coloured layers. The same horizontal layers were reflected on an immense scale when I looked back up at the surrounding cliffs. In places the layers bent and folded, as if the mountain had melted. Florian explained that, due to its unique geology, the head of the Sernf Valley was a UNESCO World Heritage Site called Sardona.
Sardona is a prime example of a ‘thrust’ event, which occurs when the Earth’s tectonic plates compress to push layers of older rock upwards above younger rock. Many mountain ranges across our planet are formed by these collisions. In between moving the rubble of another winter, I’d had an ‘Aaah’ moment! Drainage channels regularly intersected the trail. Most had become choked by rock fall and turned the path into a muddy stream, full of loose stones washed down by heavy rains. Florian showed me how to clear the channels using a hoe. It was deeply satisfying seeing the water drain away from the trail. I was making a difference – a small one maybe, but a contribution nonetheless.
After lunch, a local lady with her dogs thanked us in Swiss German for our hard work. “The best moments are when people say thank you and when you can be with a new piece of trail, and leave it better than it was before,” Heidi smiled.
Living and learning
Florian and I would return to the hostel and prepare dinner for guests at the end of each day. My body always felt exhausted, but my mind was relaxed and energised by the work that we had done outside. I slept better than ever before. July rolled around quickly. I had spent two months living and working in the Glarus Alps and it was time to leave. Looking up at the valley from my bedroom window, I realised that every peak and side valley held some special memory or experience from my stay.
The previous summer, I backpacked for two months alone across the entire length of the Alps. I now realised that spending the same amount of time exploring just one valley had brought its own feeling of connection to the landscape. Volunteering with Nicole and Florian at the hostel had made me feel like an active participant in their local community, rather than a passive observer.
In Glarus, I was no longer just a tourist passing through. By the same token, the Alps weren’t just a mountain range to explore – they were also home both people and wildlife. Specifically, spending time on the trails showed me I could play my own role, however small, to better understand and look after the natural world that I’m a part of.
“When I walk on any trails now, I always look carefully. If I see a rock that’s fallen, I always have to tidy it away!” Florian laughed. Recently, I’ve found myself doing the same thing. And I’m excited to play a role in my own community, a community that now extends to the Glarus Alps.
Find your own working holiday in the Swiss Alps – and beyond
Volunteering
There are many great websites, apps and organisations to help you find your own working holiday. Richard discovered the Aktivhostel Hängematt through a website called Workaway.info, which connects travellers with hosts offering free food and board to those who come to volunteer with them.
- wwoof.net also provides an established network of volunteering opportunities for those seeking organic farming work
- couchsurfing.com is another popular website for travellers to seek out free homestay opportunities
Paid Work
Richard was able to work with the cantonal trail building team in the Glarus Alps because he already a short-term work and residency permit for Switzerland. Unfortunately, obtaining these types of permits in Europe has become more difficult for UK citizens since Brexit. Volunteering often presents a much simpler alternative. It is also worth remembering that UK citizens can now only spend up to 90 days inside of the Schengen zone within a 180-day period.
There are also oversees projects like the Transcaucasian Trail (transcaucasiantrail.org), who annually recruit trail building volunteers to come and work with them.
Closer to home, it’s possible to volunteer with your local national park, or the Wildlife Trusts, carrying out tasks such as path maintenance, archaeology, wildlife monitoring and habitat management.
Learn more at nationalparks.uk/volunteering and wildlifetrusts.org.
This feature was first published in the February 2023 issue of The Great Outdoors.
