5 THEODORA PETER We disembark at the Glacier 3000 station that straddles the cantons of Vaud and Valais, having ascended by cable car from the Col du Pillon. It is the last Monday of July, and we are now almost 3,000 metres above sea level. From this lofty perch, we can make out the highest peaks in the Alps. The tip of the Matterhorn has been dusted with fresh snow, as thunderstorms brought some showers the previous day. Otherwise, the precipitation already seems to have evaporated. This is a summer of extreme drought – and the next heatwave is on its way. Temperature records have been broken in many places around Switzerland. It is a fairly cool 10 degrees Celsius up here. Cloud formations drift across the sky. A high plateau stretches out before us, comprising the relatively flat Scex Rouge and Zanfleuron glaciers. These two ice masses were still connected to each other until a few years ago. They have been separated since 2022 by bare rock that emerged due to intense melting – a consequence of human-driven climate change. Ten years ago, this spot was still buried under 15 metres of ice. Now the rocky spine of the Col de Zanfleuron protrudes ever more prominently above the two shrinking glaciers. The continuous sound of splashing “Swiss Review” is out in the field with 31-year-old glaciologist and ETH Zurich doctoral student Janosch Beer as he measures surface melting and takes ice temperature readings on the Scex Rouge. Colleague Ariana David is with him, assisting with the work. We take the chair lift that leads 200 metres down to the glacier in summer, where tourists can then walk along a safe, marked trail called the Glacier Walk. Next to the lift lie long piles of snow covered in white tarpaulin. Many mountain resorts “farm” snow deposits like these to preserve snow from the previous winter for the following ski season. On reaching the edge of the bare glacier, we fasten crampons onto our hiking boots. These additions will help us keep our balance on the slippery ground. There are rivulets and small streams everywhere along the slightly downward incline. We can hear the continuous sound of splashing. Beer has been coming here every summer for several years. “I have never seen the glacier so wet,” he says. Meltwater has collected at the lowest point to form a small lake, the contents of which cascade over the precipice. Situated more or less halfway across the glacier is an aluminium pole that can be seen from a good distance. The glaciologists are using it to measure how much ice has been lost. It is called an ablation stake. A year ago, Beer inserted it four metres deep into the glacier. The pole’s upper end now sticks out almost three metres above the ice. “And summer isn’t over yet.” A second measurement at the lower end of the glacier completes the data: some 2.4 to 2.9 metres of pure ice have melted this season on the surface of the Scex Rouge glacier. According to Beer, this corresponds to readings from previous years, which were classed as high to extreme. Without doubt, the glacier’s days are numbered. Still 40 or so metres deep, the Scex Rouge is likely to disappear within 20 to 30 years. This outcome is inevitable, because the glacier is unable to retreat to a higher area where snow would also fall in summer, allowing new glacier ice to form. Too much water Besides measuring the thickness of the ice, Beer is looking at the ice temperature at various depths. At the start of his research project, he installed sensors within the glacier that are connected to the surface via a long cable. Beer hooks up his laptop to the cable and downloads the various readings in no time. One of the things he is investigating as part of A chair lift takes visitors down from the Glacier 3000 station to the Scex Rouge (left) and the Zanfleuron (right) – two glaciers that were connected to each other until 2022. On the ground are long piles of leftover winter snow, kept under white tarpaulin for the next ski season. Photo: Marco Zanoni Swiss Review / October 2026 / No. 4
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