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THE GRAND TOUR OF THE VALAIS

A travel story by MAGURA rider Cedric Tassan.

I’m used to exploring the remotest corners of the world on my organic mountain bike, but this tour is a first: it’s my first time out on an e-bike! And I’ve set myself an ambitious goal straight away – a grand tour through the Valais in Switzerland, the very essence of the Alps. 

This project has been on my mind for years. I’m a huge fan of this part of Switzerland. The Valais fascinates me because, for me, it embodies the essence of the Alps: a largely unspoilt region with landscapes of breathtaking beauty. It would probably take a lifetime to explore every valley and every slope and truly know every path. For the Valais is criss-crossed by more than 8,000 kilometres of marked hiking and mountain bike trails. 

Undertaking a major tour here is a truly ambitious undertaking, if only because of the imposing terrain. A brief geographical overview: Valais is one of Switzerland’s 26 cantons and the third largest. It essentially corresponds to the upper Rhône Valley. The highest point is the Dufourspitze at 4,634 metres – also Switzerland’s highest mountain – whilst the lowest point lies on the shores of Lake Geneva at 372 metres. For us as cyclists, this means one thing above all: very frequent and very long climbs, often with more than 2,000 metres of elevation gain in one go (and correspondingly long descents if you start at the bottom). 

So you must imagine a wide, deeply carved valley through which the Rhône flows, framed by massive mountain flanks. And as if that weren’t enough, this Rhône Valley branches out like a backbone into numerous side valleys that reach deep into the mountains: Val d’Anniviers, Val de Bagnes, Val d’Illiez, Val de Nendaz, Val d’Hérens, the Mattertal around Zermatt and many more. 

To avoid disappointment on unfamiliar routes, I decide to rely on my local knowledge and supplement it specifically with a few carefully selected new sections. A major advantage of Switzerland lies in its public transport network, which is key to my way of travelling. I make the most of every opportunity to cut down on the vertical ascent: trains, cable cars, Postbuses – everything helps me get up to altitude faster. Because the more vertical ascent I ‘gain’ this way, the further I can then climb under my own steam. And if I come across a mountain hut along the way where I can recharge my rechargeable batteries, I certainly won’t pass it up. 

For this big tour, I’ve opted for the new ONE from SUNN. I’ve been riding it for a few months now and, for me, it’s the ultimate versatile e-mountain bike for alpine tours: 170 mm of front suspension travel, 160 mm at the rear, a comparatively low weight thanks to the carbon frame, carefully selected components, a 800 Wh rechargeable battery and the new Bosch motor. I know I’ll get a long way with it – both downhill and uphill. 

Compared to usual, however, I’ll be carrying significantly more kit: a handlebar bag with all the spare parts, a small frame bag for some of the repair kit, and a rucksack that, to be honest, is far too heavy. It contains all my photography and video equipment: two drones, external rechargeable batteries, an action cam, a 360-degree camera, chargers and the rest of the repair kit. So ultimately, I’m travelling with anything but light luggage – a factor I absolutely must take into account when planning my range.

Off to Sion, in the heart of Valais. The town is easily accessible by train from France, but I’ve decided to take my van. I’m naturally someone who prefers to play it safe. In this case, it would be a shame if the project had to end prematurely due to a technical problem. That’s why, in addition to the two e-mountain bikes – mine and Timothée’s, the photographer accompanying me – I’ve brought along another e-mountain bike as well as a classic mountain bike. Both bikes remain safely stowed in the van, just in case. I’ve also brought a well-stocked toolbox and some spare parts. And it is precisely this precautionary strategy that will prove invaluable at the end of the trip. 

I arrive in Sion during a violent thunderstorm. The temperature drops suddenly from 40 to 20 degrees! I park my van in the underground car park at Valais Wallis Tourisme, which has kindly been made available to me. After a restful night in the hotel, I set off early in the morning: I board the train towards Martigny. My ONE is safely stowed in the designated bike racks. 

In Martigny, I change trains to continue to the Val de Bagnes. In Le Châble, the terminus of the line, I take the cable car up to Verbier. This cable car is officially classified as public transport and, above all, saves people working in the ski resort long car journeys. That is why it operates from 5.15 am to 11.50 pm. 

Once I arrive at the top in Verbier, I continue straight on with the Les Ruinettes cable car, which takes me up to an altitude of 2,200 metres. Even during the ascent, an impressive view of Verbier opens up – the vista is simply magnificent. 

The fresh, invigorating mountain air fills my nostrils. After yesterday’s thunderstorm, which literally washed the dust out of the air, the atmosphere is clear and crisp, and the visibility is superb: I can make out both the Combins massif and Mont Blanc. The first cowbells ring in my ears, whilst the rhododendrons are in full bloom. All my senses are heightened – no doubt about it, I’m in Switzerland. 

After a wonderful ride, during which I deliberately leave the engine off, I reach the Croix de Cœur, a pass marking the transition to the north side of the ski resort. To start with, I’ve set my sights on a blue run in the Verbier Bike Park: the Chôtatai, five kilometres of pure descent with a drop of almost 700 metres. 

After a glorious stretch through the alpine meadows, I head into the forest, where a series of steep bends awaits me. This is the perfect moment to get to grips with my entire ‘Charge’. 

Once I arrive in the village of La Tsoumaz, a long traverse begins, taking me into the next valley. After about ten kilometres through beautiful larch forests, I reach the Val de Nendaz and the small village of Siviez. From there, I take the Combatzeline chairlift, which takes me back up into the alpine region. 

This is followed by another panoramic crossing to an inviting mountain restaurant. The large terrace of ‘Les Chottes’ offers a spectacular view. And as if that weren’t enough, the owners have even installed a bike rack with power sockets. A stroke of luck – I spontaneously decide to charge my bike. 

After a tasty cheese roll, I get back on my bicycle, which is now 94% charged. But the sky has darkened considerably in the meantime, and the first rain showers are sweeping across the distant slopes. It’s a good thing I charged it beforehand: a steep climb begins right behind the restaurant. I activate maximum assistance. 

Further up, the path becomes increasingly alpine and eventually turns into a trail. I lean over the handlebars and try to shift as much weight forward as possible. The climb gets steeper and steeper until I finally have to dismount and push. Fortunately, the push assist makes the passage a bit easier, although I would have liked it to be more finely tuned – less taxing on the arms and better adapted to my walking pace. Finally, I reach Mont Rouge at just under 2,500 metres. And the view is breathtaking. I stop for a moment to take photos and let the landscape sink in. 

But the weather continues to deteriorate. I leave the summit and follow a beautiful ridge downwards until I reach the Gouilles – small lakes, as they are called in the Valais dialect. The trail now becomes rougher, leading through damp, rocky sections. Finally, the hut comes into view. I rush inside – and no sooner am I in the dry than the storm breaks. Violently. 

It’s pleasantly warm inside. In the cosy hut in Essertze, I share the main room with a group of mountain bikers making the crossing from Chamonix to Zermatt, as well as a few hikers. The atmosphere is relaxed and friendly, and the hut team are very welcoming. The evening passes amid pouring rain. I eventually fall asleep in the dormitory – and at least the night is free of snoring concerts. Phew! 

Early in the morning, after a hearty breakfast featuring delicious homemade bread from the hut, we head back down into the valley along a beautiful path – exactly how one prefers to experience the mountains. The focus here is less on bike park trails; instead, it is the classic, unspoilt trails that set the tone. Variety is key: wide bends alternate with tight hairpin bends, narrow – and in some places exposed – sections follow longer crossings, interspersed with fast, flowing stretches.

Once I reach the Val d’Hérémence, there’s a long climb ahead – first along the road, then along a path. It’s accompanied by the constant, deafening whirring of a helicopter hauling away felled timber – a very familiar sight in Switzerland. 

As I couldn’t recharge the rechargeable battery at the hut the day before, I keep a constant eye on the charge level. Fortunately, the stage ahead isn’t too long. 

As we cross into the Val d’Hérens, the route becomes spectacular: to the left, the slope drops steeply, whilst the view ahead sweeps over a distant chain of glaciers. Along the way, the route passes through a few hamlets with old wooden chalets before finally descending to Evolène. 

The day draws to a close under grey skies – it won’t be long before the next shower sets in. Once the e-mountain bike has been recharged, there’s time to relax on the terrace – the view stretches into the distance, where the Matterhorn looms faintly on the horizon. 

The next morning gets off to a slow start – I have a long day ahead of me. To leave the valley, the route first follows a long road before turning onto a path through the alpine meadows. Behind the pretty hamlet of Volovron, a beautiful traverse begins along a narrow footpath. Time and again, I get the impression that the route is following an old suone – those historic water channels used to capture mountain streams and channel them to alpine pastures and hamlets. 

There is another village along the route, then I decide to continue cross-country on a marked path. The climb continues steadily. Consumption of the rechargeable battery is around 10% per 200 metres of elevation gain – so roughly 2,000 metres of elevation gain per full charge. Given the total weight, that’s a very good figure. After a magnificent stretch across the alpine pastures, I’ve already clocked up 25 kilometres and 1,300 metres of elevation gain. 

What follows is a long, dreamlike descent down to the Rhône: from 2,300 metres to around 500 metres. Once at the bottom, I continue by train from Saint-Léonard station to Sierre – a town in Valais, where French gradually gives way to German. From the station, a bus takes me to the Val d’Anniviers; the e-mountain bike is safely stowed on the bike rack. 

The climb into the valley is impressive: narrow, high up and with a challenging route that is almost reminiscent of Nepal – fortunately perfectly tarmac-surfaced. In Saint-Luc, a typical and particularly beautiful Valais village, a hotel with spectacular views awaits. After a dip in the pool, I head up to the large terrace high above the village. A delicious fondue at sunset rounds off the day. 

A new day on the bike begins. First, I head for the cable car at Saint-Luc – just a few minutes later, the bike is already at an altitude of 2,200 metres. There is a small bike park there, but there’s no time for that: I have a long day ahead of me, and the clouds are hanging low over the peaks. 

After another traverse, I take the Tsapé chairlift to cover 500 metres of elevation gain. Even though the route would be rideable, I make a conscious decision against it – I need to save my energy for what lies ahead. A beautiful, slightly technical climb then leads through the mist up to the Illsee Pass at 2,550 metres. This marks my farewell to the Val d’Anniviers: the descent begins on the eastern side. 

The first section is extremely technical; it often makes sense to dismount briefly – some sections are simply exposed and demanding. Further down on the mountain pasture, the trail becomes smoother and eventually leads to a dam. Crossing it opens up a spectacular view across to the Rhone Valley. 

This is followed by a left turn into a wild descent through a remote valley. At first, it remains technically demanding: tight bends, loose stones, full concentration. After a smoother section, a particularly intense stretch awaits – narrow, steep, rocky and in places barely visible. All the greater the relief when I finally reach the 1,800-metre mark and the trail enters the forest. The hardest part is behind me. 

700 metres of elevation gain on a highly technical trail are behind me – now 1,300 metres of pure enjoyment lie ahead. This descent turns into a real journey: changing terrain, constantly shifting landscapes, small settlements along the way. Right at the bottom, I cross the Bhutan Bridge, which hangs spectacularly in the Illhorn Gorge – a moment that suddenly feels almost like being in the Himalayas. 

Now it’s time to get a move on: we mustn’t miss the train to Zermatt. Inside the carriage, a handy power socket catches the eye – perfect for topping up your devices during the ride. After around two hours, the route reaches what is arguably Switzerland’s most famous holiday resort. 

Zermatt feels like another world. Nestled between the country’s highest peaks, the population triples to around 20,000 people in the high season. And today is a hive of activity: the Zermatt Marathon is due to take place the following day. The crowded main street is thronged with holidaymakers from all over the world – particularly many from Asia – marvelling at the glacial landscape, whilst mountaineers prepare for the ascent of the Matterhorn. 

As impressive as the hustle and bustle is, the desire for peace and quiet grows. That’s why the route leads over to the opposite side of the valley, directly beneath the iconic pyramid, which is reminiscent of the logo of a well-known chocolate brand. Along the Zmuttbach stream, the route climbs briskly uphill on a beautiful trail. Further up, the path eventually runs along the moraine of the Zmutt Glacier. 

This location is being closely monitored in the context of global warming: the glacier above Zermatt is visibly changing, and both the melting and potential landslides can pose significant risks. 

The route continues along a narrow ridge, almost like a tightrope walk – always accompanied by a magnificent view of the north face of the Matterhorn. 

Our arrival at the Schönbiel Hut does not go unnoticed: the terrace is packed, and for a moment all eyes are on the bike. The hut is fully booked tonight – it sits spectacularly perched on a rocky outcrop and marks one of the final stages of the famous Haute Route between Chamonix and Zermatt. 

The sunset over the Matterhorn is simply breathtaking: the mountain glows in intense shades of red and orange. 

The next morning, the sky is completely overcast. Clouds hang low, shrouding the hut completely; visibility is practically zero. Rather than descending blindly, we decide to wait – and patience pays off: after about two hours, the sky begins to clear. It is almost 9 o’clock when the descent finally begins. 

Although I’m the last to set off, I quickly catch up with the first hikers – a clear advantage of the bike, which transforms a gruelling stage into pure riding pleasure. Further down, a long traverse leads to a rocky bottleneck. We dismount there to tackle the passage on foot. The crossing is tricky. 

Then it happens: my foot slips on a slab. The weight of the e-mountain bike pulls my shoe further until it suddenly regains its grip. My ankle twists completely; the bone seems almost to touch the ground, accompanied by an eerie crack. I suspect a fracture. 

An initial assessment follows quickly: on the surface, nothing appears to be broken. However, as experience shows that pain can worsen, we continue down into the valley as quickly as possible. The ankle is stiff, but can still bear weight. 

Another technical section follows. In front of an impressive waterfall, with the Matterhorn in the background, the injury fades into the background for a moment. Bend after bend, the descent continues, accompanied by the astonished glances of the hikers. The descent drags on, followed by an uphill section that has to be walked – not an ideal position for the ankle. So: pick up the pace while it’s still possible. 

A planned variant is scrapped to head straight to Zermatt. The village is bustling: the marathon is underway, with hundreds of runners bearing race numbers on the move. A precise assessment of the situation would be necessary, but it’s hard to think clearly in the crowd. 

The decision is made to take a break in a quiet restaurant. The bike is plugged in to charge, accompanied by a proper meal and over an hour’s rest. Then it’s on again. The ankle is far from stable but is holding up surprisingly well. A visit to the doctor would be sensible – yet a compromise is the only option. 

The original route is not continued; there would have been another 50 kilometres of challenging terrain. Instead, the stage focuses on the final section, which promises around 30 kilometres of pure beauty. 

I leave Zermatt by train and get off at Stalden, a small village on the way back. From there, the cable car takes me up to Gspon – a peaceful region with vast alpine pastures and a small hamlet. Here, tranquillity returns. 

After about 7 kilometres and a 400-metre climb through stunning Alpine scenery, I reach Lake Gibidum: a beautiful mountain lake where a few people are already swimming. My ankle is clearly aching – the cold water feels like a welcome relief. After that, a long descent begins: initially fast across alpine meadows, later technically demanding through the forest. As the ground offers no secure footing, I keep dismounting to play it safe. 

The descent continues. Eventually, a painkiller is taken. 

A right-hand bend leads onto a steep path at the end of a ravine. After a few technical hairpin bends, the path crosses a bridge – on the other side, a rocky climb begins immediately. The pain intensifies significantly; I can only carry on by gritting my teeth. 

The trail is narrow, stony and physically demanding. Pushing the bike becomes an ordeal; the left foot feels unstable and weak. After about 20 minutes, a more rideable section opens, and progress picks up a little. This is followed by a shortcut over an extremely stony path – the vibrations are brutal.

We finally arrive in Brig at 6.30 pm – time to rest. 

The next day, the decision is made to go to the hospital in Visp: the pain persists. After an X-ray, a check-up and 825 euros lighter, I leave the clinic with a splint on my foot – diagnosis: severe sprain. 

In the afternoon, however, the journey continues: first by train, then by cable car up to the idyllic village of Bettmeralp, where recovery is the priority. The weather is far from inviting – fog and drizzle set the tone. A long siesta in the small wooden room under the roof nevertheless restores my energy. 

The following day brings a fresh attempt: the aim is to reach the Aletsch Glacier – the largest glacier in the Alps. The e-mountain bike is fully charged, everything is running in ‘turbo mode’, with as little strain on the foot as possible. Following a panoramic trail, the route leads through a long tunnel to the vicinity of the glacier. A viewpoint seems within reach, but the flat, very stony path takes more effort than expected – so we turn back. 

The desire for an alternative return route remains, however: a spectacular balcony trail is known to exist. So we give it a go. Surprisingly, the ankle holds up better than expected – technical descents are tackled cautiously, and as the distance increases, the pain even eases slightly. 

After a ride on the Eggishornbahn to admire the ice giant up close – a true natural wonder that is a must-see – another highlight follows: the flow trail in this area. Then it’s back down to the valley. By the end, the odometer reads 40 kilometres. 

Back in Brig, the weather forecast is already clear: tomorrow will be changeable again. So we make a conscious decision to use the day to relax. A chat with Ryan from the tourist office in Leukerbad yields a perfect suggestion: arrive early and enjoy the thermal baths. An offer we’re happy to accept – we take the PostBus to the station in comfort. 

The next morning, steady rain sets in and temperatures have dropped significantly. The morning at the thermal baths offers the perfect opportunity to recharge our batteries. Around midday, the Gemmi Pass is on the agenda – the terminus of a spectacular cable car that winds its way up the steep rock faces above the village. Up top, wintry conditions already prevail: snowfall, an icy wind and fine flakes whipping across the face. Back in the warmth, there’s a plate of rösti with a spectacular view – a stark contrast to the weather outside. Finally, in the afternoon, the tide turns: the sky clears, and good weather is forecast for the following day. 

The following morning, the sky is incredibly clear. We pack up quickly, then take the cable car up to the Rinderhütte. At 2,300 metres, the view is spectacular: snow-covered mountains, clear air, an impressive panorama. 

The planned route is considered one of the most beautiful in the Valais – a long-cherished wish. Ryan joins us and accompanies us on this stage. The path leads through vast Swiss alpine pastures, in a landscape that could scarcely be more impressive. And if this really is to be the last day, then this is exactly how it should be. 

We’ve planned a stop at a small hamlet for lunch. We receive a warm welcome at the Trächu Hittu restaurant. We’re served a ‘Cholera’ – a typical, hearty pie from the Upper Valais made with potatoes, leeks, onions, apples and cheese. The unusual name dates to the time of epidemics, when people simply used whatever was available. The dish is excellent, and the hosts serve fresh, regional produce with palpable dedication. 

For the second part of the day, the e-mountain bike really comes into its own: a tarmac ramp awaits – 1.4 kilometres and almost 250 metres of elevation gain in one go. After passing a pretty hamlet, the route continues along a path through rocky alpine meadows. Once at the top, the descent begins – simply impressive: fast, technical in places, with flowing bends and spectacular views at every turn.

The spectacle continues in the forest: the route winds its way down through all the vegetation zones. From 2,400 metres, it descends to 600 metres, accompanied throughout by magnificent views of the landscape. The final stretch follows a rocky, parched path – typical of the southern slopes of the Valais, where you can even hear cicadas in places. 

Once at the bottom, the decision is made: this grand e-mountain bike tour ends here. Two more days would have been possible, but given the injured ankle, it’s already a success to have made it this far at all. It’s back to Sion to collect the car. 

Once the Kern – an all-mountain bike weighing just 13 kilograms – is finally in the boot, a new idea emerges: why not leave the e-mountain bike behind, drastically reduce the luggage and try for one last day? After all, one of the longest descents in the Valais is planned for the following day, including sections where the bike has to be carried. That wouldn’t be feasible with an e-mountain bike anyway. 

The decision is made quickly: the Kern is taken, most of the kit is left behind. Only the swimming trunks are a must – the hotel in Crans-Montana has an impressive pool. Just one question remains: will the ankle hold out for this final stretch of the adventure? 

Practical information: 

  • Getting there: by plane via Geneva Airport, by train to the Valais, or by car (please purchase a Swiss motorway vignette). 
  • Information: You can find all the information about the canton on the tourist office website: 

https://www.valais.ch/fr

(pictures by Tim Demarchi)