It was somewhere between Menzingen and Edlibach when I looked down at my phone and saw what no one wants to see.

8%.

Well damn. I still had about eight kilometers to go until I got to my finishing point in Baar, and it wasn’t going to hold up that long. Worse still, I wouldn’t get all that precious data into Strava. The horror!

How had I allowed myself to get to this point? Had I no self-control? Am I that addicted to my phone (spoiler alert – yes)?

Honestly, I knew the answer. I had, unashamedly, been a little too click-happy with taking photos from the trail on the way up.

However, it was totally worth being robbed of those brag-worthy stats to make sure I grabbed enough evidence of how awesome that trail run is.

“That trail along the Sihl looks pretty epic…”

And so the conversation would always go in the car when we made the pilgrimage across from Zug to Zurich. I had spotted the Sihl hiking path about a dozen times, and my wife was almost certainly sick of hearing me pine over a trail which, in actual fact, was not that inaccessible.

The chance to finally do it was granted to me by our eldest son, #SmallHuman. Having just bought a new pair of bright yellow Salomon hiking shoes, he was desperate to try them out. On the way home from buying said subtle shoes he also spotted the path.

“Can we hike along there?!”. How could we let him down?

So, the following day, we hiked for about just over two kilometres, satisfying both #SmallHuman and #TinyHuman (the youngest) before they left to enjoy an afternoon of sun on the balcony.

Enter the playground

I had seen a great write up of someone’s hike along the river a few days earlier, so knew a few of the things to look out for. However, I like an unstructured plan, and never really know how I’m going to get to my end destination.

It took about 700 metres for me to snap something.

I’ve lived in Switzerland for nine years now (firstly in Lausanne, then Zurich, then Lausanne again and now Zug) and I still am dumbfounded by how beautiful this country is. This was no exception and was not the only waterfall along this part of the route.

Up and away from the river

The trails here are some of the best kept in the world. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t watch your footing. The below doesn’t do the steepness of the fall justice. It would be a very painful descent followed by a very cold excursion into a river with more currents than a hot cross bun (British metaphor alert)

Perhaps, for my own safety, it was good that the path started to wind away from the Sihl slightly, and in no time I found myself in what is technically called “cow country”.

Glad that I was still heading in the right direction, I continued along until I hit woodland.

“It’s perfectly safe”

Usually, if given the choice and time, I will always pick the path that looks most interesting when running. Whether that is because it looks unexplored, it is a gigantic hill or simply because something about it piques my curiousity, I’d like to think I have a great sense of adventure.

However, I found my line.

This tunnel cut underneath about seven metres of rock. That tiny dot is the other end, and I had to crouch to see it. There was only one thing going on in my mind…

Mercifully, there was another route around it, which of course I took because I’m kind of attached to – you know – breathing.

However, at the other end came the true humiliation.

See this guy? He rode through that tunnel on his bike. And so did the kid. “It’s perfectly safe,” he told me. “The light from the other end of the tunnel is really clear when you get to the middle.”

I muttered something about being braver next time and moved on, reminding myself that 87% of creepy clowns live in long, dark tunnels.

The chance to be braver actually came just 500 metres up the trail, albeit with a shorter, just as creepy tunnel.

As I am not writing this from beyond the grave via Ouiji board, I survived the ordeal (and, actually, it was pretty cool).

Out of the valley

What followed was a pretty awesome climb up and out of the valley. This included tiny roads, lots of farmland and, at the top, this view.

Technology fails running

At this point, seeing my battery was at 25%, I played it sensible and switched off everything that wasn’t necessary.

I reached Menzingen in no time and followed the signs to Baar, which dropped into a pretty awesome and rocky downhill section next to its own rapid river.

I pulled out my phone, hoping to take one final photo and there it was, in all its terrible glory.

8%.

Malcolm Tucker would have been pleased with the expletives that left my mouth at that point.

But then I had a word with myself. I don’t run for PBs or Strava kudos, or even to keep fit (that last one is just an added bonus).

I run for fun, for thinking time, for freedom and for release. And maybe also so I can eat and drink what I want. But mostly those first four things. Technology failing recalibrated my thinking a little bit.

Plus, now I have an excuse to run the reverse route…

Tale of the trail