Balmfluechöpfli

After an blanket of snow transformed the landscape overnight, I knew I couldn’t let the opportunity pass me by. Snow around here isn’t that common anymore, so I grabbed my snowshoes and headed out to explore a favorite trail—up to the Balmfluechöpfli. It’s a route I’ve walked plenty of times, but under fresh snow? This was a special treat.

The adventure began with a Postauto ride from Solothurn to Balm b. Günsberg. From there, I set off on a trail I’ve walked many times before, though this time the snow added a touch of magic—and a touch of challenge. The ascent of 600 meters felt tougher than usual, my legs burning as I crunched through the thick snow. But what made me stop wasn’t just to catch my breath; it was to marvel at the scene around me.

The forest was transformed. Every tree branch wore a frosty coat of snow, bending gently under the weight. Icicles shimmered faintly in the diffused sunlight, while the trail ahead disappeared into a dreamy, white expanse. The silence was its own kind of beauty, broken only by the soft sound of snowflakes falling. It was the kind of stillness that makes you feel like you’re walking through a snow globe.

Finally reaching the top of the Balmfluechöpfli, I was greeted by a view that made the climb more than worth it. Peaks and valleys stretched out before me, a patchwork of white, untouched and glistening. The air was cold but crisp, and I stood there for a while, letting the sight soak in—just me, the snow, and the sky.

Heading back down towards Rüttenen, the trail felt gentler, though just as magical. The snow underfoot sparkled faintly, and the trees framed my path like something out of a fairytale. Near the edge of the forest, just as the first hints of open ground came into view, I had an unexpected encounter. A small group of deer was sitting on the path, their dark silhouettes standing out against the snow. They seemed as surprised to see me as I was them. For a moment, we simply stared at each other. Then, with a graceful leap, they vanished into the forest, leaving only delicate hoofprints behind.

By the time I reached Rüttenen, my legs were tired but my heart was full. It wasn’t just a hike; it was a walk through winter’s finest art exhibit.