Jogging, biking, sledging, slipping: just another Sunday on Uetliberg
Zurich’s iconic mountain is a hive of activity on weekends, with half the city squeezing up there to spend their time off. Winter in particular paints a diverse picture of activity – and reveals a cross-section of our society, too.
Walking along the high street with my hiking boots on, I look a bit silly. Is this choice of footwear maybe a bit much for a Sunday outing? I’d seen on an acquaintance’s Instagram post that there was still snow on Uetliberg, and in preparation, had kitted myself out accordingly.
The path is steep, and I'm not the only one with the idea of going for a Sunday hill climb. There are plenty of couples, families with kids – with and without buggies – and some dogs, too. Couples skirt the muddy spots hand in hand, and kids run ahead, their parents shouting after them. Even though the path is steep, the gravel allows even those wearing trainers to make light work of it.
Until a clearing in the woods, that is. There it is, the snow.
A hilltop winter wonderland
Sledgers go downhill, bikers uphill – there's no such thing as a separate path. «Look out!» I hear an older gentleman shout, after almost being knocked down by a kid on a bobsleigh. A little further ahead, a dog is chasing a tennis ball.
I meander my way through the colourful hustle and bustle, leaving the fork in the path after giving way to a child with a sled. The snowy path continues on up, and I’m glad to be wearing my hiking boots. Already I can see pairs of trainers starting to lose their grip on the path. One woman falls over. She laughs, luckily unhurt.
Boss level: icy stairs
I can see the next problem from a distance: a steep set of stairs. Not only that, but the snow covering them has been trampled into ice by all the preceding pairs of trainers. Fortunately, there’s no-one around and I can try my luck with the stairs unobserved. Even with my supposedly good footwear I start to falter. Thank God the city council thought to put up a railing. With its help, and an inelegant sidestep, I slowly make my way up. Behind me, I hear two men approaching. They both ascend the steps effortlessly, as if the ice isn’t there.
I allow them to overtake. They’re wearing crampons. With a firm grip on the railing, I throw an envious glance at their good equipment.
Mulled wine, ice and a view
I make it to the top without falling. On the viewing platform, sledgers, bikers and dog walkers mingle with those who’ve arrived by train: fur coats, sunglasses, beautiful handbags and chic ankle boots interspersed with practical clothing.
The ground is covered with snow and ice, peppered with gravel. A man rides his e-bike through the entrance of the observation deck despite the sign indicating not to. The dog from earlier with the tennis ball has already reached the top, too. A woman with high heels and two full paper cups makes her way back through the crowd from the kiosk. A young man walks purposefully past all the excursionists with a huge paragliding backpack.
I stand in line and get mulled wine. A racing cyclist pushes a bike with thin tyres through the throng. How did he get up here?
All good things come from below
Reluctant to tackle the icy stairs again, I briefly consider taking the train down. After all, if I had trouble going up, the descent won’t be much better. But there are other ways to get back to the city.
Walking along the edge of the path, I’m overtaken by some sledges. Do the riders know that there won’t be any more snow after a few turns? The yellow hiking sign says to turn left. I stick to the suggestion and get onto a narrower path, away from the sledgers. The path leads ever more steeply downhill. A young couple with beautiful Asics sneakers are walking in front of me, slipping more and more with every metre.
And then another set of steps appears. It’s in the middle of the forest, and is icier and steeper than the one on the ascent. The couple are visibly struggling. The guy walks ahead, barely able to hold on to the branches hanging overhead. She teeters behind, holding onto him tightly, then they both fall. They laugh – they’re alright.
I don't feel like laughing. I'm still standing at the top, wondering how to get down without falling. I once again opt for a sidestep, only to slip on the third step and hit the deck. At least my backpack, which contains a scarf, gloves and water bottle, affords me a soft landing.
I think of the two gentlemen with the crampons. This wouldn’t have happened to them. On the other hand, it’s a bit embarrassing to go up the hill in such a dramatically over-equipped manner. I'd rather take a fall with dignity.
After a few metres, I find myself at the clearing again. The hard part is over for me. For the crowds of sledgers, bikers and convinced trainer-wearers coming towards me, however, the adventure is just beginning. Good luck to them!
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Testing devices and gadgets is my thing. Some experiments lead to interesting insights, others to demolished phones. I’m hooked on series and can’t imagine life without Netflix. In summer, you’ll find me soaking up the sun by the lake or at a music festival.
