How I Overcame Heat and Altitude in a Swiss Summer Trek

My summer trek began in the Bernese Oberland, with the plan to hike from Lauterbrunnen up to the Faulhorn ridge and then onward toward Grindelwald over three days. I had trained, packed carefully, and expected moderate alpine weather. But a heatwave had gripped Central Europe, and the mountains were not exempt. Even above 2,000 meters, the sun blazed and the air felt thin and dry. The first day’s climb out of Lauterbrunnen was stunning but punishing. The steep ascent through forest offered limited shade, and I found myself sweating far more than usual. By the time I reached Mürren, I was dehydrated and exhausted. I refilled my bottles at a fountain, rested in the shade, and seriously considered adjusting my plan. It was only day one, and already I was learning the difference between mountain fitness and heat resilience. I pressed on to my first overnight hut near the Rotstock, arriving later than expected and thoroughly drained. The next morning, I rose early to beat the sun, and this made all the difference. Hiking at dawn through alpine pastures with the Eiger glowing in the distance was magical. The air was cooler, and I found a better rhythm. Still, the altitude started to kick in as I climbed toward the Faulhorn ridge. I slowed my pace and focused on breathing, using trekking poles for support. At that elevation, around 2,600 meters, even mild inclines became harder, especially with a pack. I met a few other hikers who were also struggling with the heat—some had cut their routes short, while others had turned around completely. We shared tips and snacks at the Faulhorn hut, where a breeze finally brought relief. I stayed for over an hour, just enjoying the views and recovering in the shade. My descent toward Grindelwald the following day was less dramatic, but no less memorable. The landscape softened into flower-filled meadows and pine forests, with waterfalls crashing down cliffs in the distance. I took more breaks, soaked my hat in streams, and appreciated every bit of water I could find. By the end of the trek, I had learned to hike smarter, not harder. My gear mattered less than my ability to adjust. Wearing light layers, taking early starts, and planning around the sun became essential. I also learned to check not just the weather forecast, but temperature and altitude impacts together. Booking through Crion.org helped me prepare with local guide advice beforehand, which gave me confidence even when conditions got tough. What could’ve been a miserable hike became one of my most rewarding. There’s something deeply satisfying about pushing through discomfort to earn the view, the solitude, the sense of accomplishment. Swiss treks are beautiful, but they also demand respect—especially in summer. I came home with sunburned arms, sore legs, and a renewed love for alpine challenges. For anyone considering a summer trek in Switzerland, be ready for anything. And remember, the mountain always sets the pace.