Orbe

In my last post, I spoke of my holiday hiking with friends met in Prague who now live in Lausanne. We decided that in today’s Covid-impacted world the best spiritual rejuvenation would come from getting out of the city and back to nature. Luckily, some of Switzerland’s most interesting and intriguing natural sites are to be found at the foot of the Jura mountains: not far from our home base in Lausanne. Our preferred destination is Les Clées (reached easily by car). Our first hike this season, a new one to me, was a footpath heading west of Les Clées village: in direction of the French border.

I have to admit that his hike was not full-on serene for me. The nature was amazing and beautiful, but the precarious path and the threat of a possible fall off a steep incline down into the Orbe River had me a bit ill-at-ease at times. Initially, the route is wider and you focus more on questioning why you had such a big breakfast OR you wish you’d had more to eat. You need a good store of energy to push yourself up the constantly ascending path. However, quickly the route narrows and you look at the rushing Orbe below and wonder how rapidly you might plummet down to the water.

As with all things Swiss, this path is impeccably organized. Should you happen on an outshoot of rock: no worries. The locals long ago carved a tunnel into the grey-white rock so that hikers can easily navigate through the mountainside when need be. Likewise, this section of the Orbe River Path also has ample swells of fresh-water springs that trickle slowly to the rapids down below. In the winter season, these water flows offer an additional, amazing spectacle: icicle cascades. Passages through the rock tunnels along the route have an almost 2m tall person like myself dodging a number of frozen-water daggers: a) so as not to hit my head, b) in order to preserve the beauty the icicles contribute to this magical, wintertime, natural kingdom.

The hike provides ample amounts of calm and solace, with the only creatures interrupting our thoughts being Izzi our Vizsla canine companion (she’s afraid of the icy footbridges) and our Jack Russell named Poppy, who shoots up and down the path and sometimes along the icy cliffside without thought for potential consequences. Ultimately though, there is an incredible reward toward the end of the trail. These are the Le Day waterfalls (the Saut du Day) which tower over you as you reach a broadening of the Orbe River where it shallows out and serves up rocky sandbars that are perfect for a picnic. It was at the waterfalls that we went crazy with our cameras and took multiple pics of our beautiful surroundings. We let the dogs test the icy waters and run to their hearts’ content. Plus, it was there that we came across our first humans: other locals on holiday, who also apparently needed to escape their isolating in place for just an hour or two.

I am thankful to have spent a part of my holidays admiring the Orbe River and the gorge through which it passes. It is a calming, fascinating place where I never cease to be in awe of how the water swiftly flows, sharing its gurgles with the random hikers who pass alongside it. I give thanks to the Swiss people who look after the nearby paths and make such wonderful views of nature accessible to all who journey to the area for a walk. As I sit here in Day 4 of my post-holiday quarantine, I can still hear the river calling me. Come back one day. I’ll be waiting. And surely I will return: for a future dose of much needed and appreciated serenity.

Thanks to a friend’s accidental click-and-point approach to trail searches on a map of Switzerland, I was fortunate enough to come to know the peaceful beauty of the Orbe River this past year. I first hiked the river trails in June 2020, during an escape to Switzerland once Europe’s borders opened up after Round 1 of the Covid pandemic.

The Orbe is a meandering, bubbly, mountain river-stream deep in the Vaud region of Switzerland. It touches upon the base of the Jura Mountains some 40 or so kilometers north of Lausanne. My entry point to the river hiking routes has always been the quaint, little village of Les Clées, with its picturesque tower, church and stone bridges. From Les Clées, one can follow hiking and cycling routes east down to the town of Orbe or take the narrow hill paths to the West over to the waterfalls hidden next to the village of Le Day.

The best qualities of both paths include the calmness, the embrace of forest silence, and the soothing whispers of the Orbe as it gurgles to you from the sometimes scary drop below. The walk toward the town of Orbe begins as most of us imagine a Swiss hike should. The hiker trapses through meadows that hug the village of Les Clées. Soon, you approach the forest line, after passing a cow or two, and you walk along a sandy-rock path high above the mountain stream. The path offers tiny bits of natural wonder as you gaze at the stunning emerald moss that covers many of the trees and listen to the trickles of water from springs flowing from the hillsides. At times, wooden bridges help you over sections of the path, where the abundant water sources make the route too muddy to pass. Then a fork in the trail gives you the option to descend down to the bubbling, gurgling Orbe.

The descent can be daunting when the path is snowy or muddy. But with patience and care, you can make it down to the water safely. Plus, a slow downward walk affords the opportunity to notice the handiwork that has gone into developing forest staircases and root-formed guard rails that keep hikers from sliding directly down to the stream. At the bottom, the blue metal bridge gives a moment of respite and as the water lulls walkers into reflection. The blue of the bridge, the deep greens of the fluffy moss, the brown-grey-green-blue hues of the water and rocks offer a color harmony that overwhelm even a colorblind hiker like myself. My judgment of the various tones and hues is not that of the majority, yet still the natural color symphony takes my breath away.

After several minutes of absorbing the sounds of the Orbe and its calming rush through the mountain rocks, I head upward along the what I call the southern bank, making my way back to Les Clées. That side of the stream offers vistas of the springs and waterfalls on the northern side; particularly, when hiking in late fall or winter after the leaves have fallen from the trees. Walkers have better views of the water as the hiking path rises above it and the mind quickly becomes overwhelmed by still more natural beauty. Part of you wants to sit and take in the river or, on a hot day, jump into the cool, soothing waters. Another part of you wants to indulge in the escape offered by these seemingly ancient forests in which you imagine Roman soldiers must have marched or where you feel like you may have been transported to the green moon of Endor as described in George Lucas’ Star Wars movies.

As you near the end of what I call the “East to Orbe” circuit (by returning to Les Clées), you catch glimpses cross-river of the green fields where the cows you saw earlier continue to graze or you notice from afar the village’s unmistakable tower. It lets you know that your car, and some well-earned rest, is not far away. This path has become a staple activity during my visits to friends in Lausanne. It puts my spirit at peace and makes me grateful for the simplicity of nature. The opportunities the Orbe offers for quiet hiking, smiles of non-speak with friends, and the curious meandering of our canine companions (specifically memories of my dear Mica) are priceless. In a restless world of Covid angst, the Orbe River surges with serenity.

Seeking Serenity in the Orbe Valley (Pt. 2)

Seeking Serenity in the Orbe Valley (Pt. 1)