We walked from our hotel through Zermatt, 5,310 feet elevation. We boarded a train to go up. Up to the Gornergrat ridge, which sits 10,285 feet above sea level. There are two stops, and then you’re there, at the top of the world, it seems like, except for what you can see opposite.

It ain’t bad.

The high mark, of course, is the iconic Matterhorn summit, just over there.

Mountains, being great skewers of time and space and distance, are always misleading. The Matterhorn is actually six miles from where we are standing.

Here’s a broader view of the view. This is a panoramic shot of sorts, so you know what to do.

(Click to embiggen.)

And here’s a slightly better closeup. Doesn’t look like anyone is climbing it today. At least on this side.

Tomorrow, Europe’s highest open-air theater (really, a flat spot with a screen and several rows of chairs, which we passed on the way up) is opening for the season and they are showing “The Matterhorn Story,” a play that depicts the first ascent of the mountain, in 1865. It debuts tomorrow. We’ll be gone by then.

Where we were today was above the tree line. But there were a few things growing that high up.

Oddly, I didn’t have most of the same thin air effects I was complaining about on our visit to Jungfraujoch. I must have acclimated in the last 48 hours.

(I did not.)

Way up there is a humble little chapel, dedicated to St. Bernard — patron saint of the Alps, skiing, snowboarding, hiking, backpacking, and mountaineering, if you go in for that sort of thing.

I’m not Catholic, but I’d like to find out how a person who lived in the 11th century and canonized in the 17th century picks up snowboarding as something to protect. Snowboarding just dates back to 1965, after all.

Anyway, the altarpiece is carved wooden figures in a relief-style with alpine flowers above the altarpiece. The tabernacle is decorated with grapevines, the altar table is made of stone slabs with a cross.

There’s also a little hotel and restaurant and gift shop up there. A development waiting for other developments, unless it’s a one-night novelty, I’m sure. As a guest, your options are the views, the observatory, two short tourist experiences and going back down the mountain. One of the tourist things is a beautiful 10-minute movie that shows you the four seasons on the mountain. The other is a three-minute VR presentation of paragliding over the Matterhorn. We’ve seen people doing this all over, and made jokes with the in-laws about getting them in one of those rigs.

We got close.

I sat in one of those chairs, too. (Not pictured.) I joined the flight in-progress, so I went through it again, just to see everything. It was shot on a nice 270 degree camera, so you can see a great deal. Almost just like doing it! I was hoping my mother-in-law would stick her arms out and soar through the sky …

There’s also a nice display of a first-generation engine at the Gornergrat summit. (There are two others a bit further down, as well.) These are historic and legendary pieces of the Swiss railway system — albeit “reinterpreted” for their installment in 2023. The signs don’t tells us what was reinterpreted, but I’d like to think they looked exactly like this when they first took on their job of going up and down the mountain in 1898, when they opened this system. Today, it is the oldest, still-operational, electrical cogwheel in the world.

Even still, these engines had a shorter trek than their modern descendants. The original rail station was about 230 lower than today’s peak spot. Regular folks did the walk. Others, of means, were carried up in sedan chairs.

Hopefully they felt self-conscious about that.

Mark Twain said “Nowhere is there such a display of grandeur and beauty as can be seen from the Gornergrat summit,” but he got up there some other way. He wrote that in 1878, before this railway was completed, which wasn’t too long after the place started appearing in the travel guides (1856) and topographical maps (1862).

Cogwheel rails work on a rack and pinion system, which allows them to shorten the distance by mastering steep inclines. Static friction of the wheels provide the propulsion. The part in between the rails is the key, and in this case a setup like this handles inclines, the sign says, of 200 percent. Carl Roman Abt was the engineer that developed this setup, which has some clever ingenuity in design and reusability.

This is how it all connects together. It’s powered by a 275 volt three-phase current. TO save power, the engines act as generators when braking, so when it is descending, the engine is producing electricity. Recuperation allows that energy to be used on the next ascent. Today, three trains going downhill produce enough power for two trains heading up. (There are two trains an hour up here, too.) The rest of the power comes from Zermatt’s power grid.

If you look closely, you can see the teeth from the cogwheel system here. Since its earliest days, this has been an electrical system. The only steam engine that ran on these lines was the locomotive that helped in the construction. When it’s task was completed, they sold the thing to Spain.

Twelve photos, a history lesson and 900-plus words, so let’s call it here. In the next post, I’ll share some video from the Gornergrat summit. Don’t miss it.