Zirl to Neue Magdeburger Hut
June 12 in Austria ⋅ 🌧 10 °C
The Nightjet train arrived in Innsbruck on time after a smooth journey. It was very easy, I got in in Arnhem, joining Suzanne, who had boarded in Utrecht, and the next morning, there we were in Innsbruck. We were also lucky in that we had a compartment to ourselves. I did wake up when we stopped in Munich at five in the morning, and a couple of other times, but in general, I slept ok.
When we got out of the train, we took a look at the times of the local trains and saw that we just had time to grab some lunch from one of the two bakeries in the station before getting on the train to Zirl Hoch. Twenty minutes later, we got out, ready to go. The station, which was more like a bus stop, had a few giant, metre-long ants made out of wood and metal crawling over it. There was a sign pointing towards our first hut, so we ignored the route that we had planned in Komoot and followed that.
Within the first few metres, we saw our first orchid (Plantanthera bifolia), and then another only a few metres further (Cephalanthera rubra), so we could not have asked for a more auspicious start. The path was easy-going, winding through pretty woodland and with the occasional spectacular view south over the Inn valley. After a few minutes walking we came across a rock face with Dryas octopetala growing on a small ledge. This was a plant that I remember learning about as a student. It grows on top of cold mountains and has a flower like a dish antenna which tracks the position of the sun. That is so that its flower is a few degrees warmer than the surrounding air, enticing insects to come and pollinate it. I have seen it a handful of times in the mountains of England and Scotland, and here it was already. It was a reminder that we were already at over a thousand metres above sea level, comparable to the highest mountains in Britain.
The path then diverted off into some denser woodland, narrowed, and started to climb steeply upwards. There was what was probably a spectacular waterfall off to our left, but we could only catch glimpses of it through the trees. We had to stop from time to time because it was so steep.
Then we suddenly caught a glimpse of something moving in the trees. It was a goat-like animal. We had startled it and it ran away but soon stopped so that we could get a better look and even a couple of fuzzy photos. It had a dark tail, a bit like a deer, sticking-up ears and a pale stripe running down its nose and another one along the bottom of its face. Later we discovered that it was a chamois, something between a goat and an antelope, called 'Gämse' in German. We also saw another one shortly afterwards as well as a red squirrel and a small deer suckling a young one
After another kilometre or so through the forest, we came out onto a broader path and it was also less steep. A couple of mountain bikers passed us. They didn't have motors, and even though it was not so steep for walkers, it must still have been a struggle to cycle up, even with good gears. They looked warm, despite the cool weather.
We were heading for a small hut, Brunntal, as it was coffee time. The break was welcome, as the route had been much steeper than anywhere that I had walked when training for this trip. It was also welcome, as the coffee came with fresh apricot cake and cream. We sat under a shelter as it was just beginning to rain. A head of a chamois was mounted on the wall above in the entrance hall to the hut. When we told the owner that we had just seen them, he was singularly unimpressed, as they are apparently very common round here.
As we walked further, the clouds came down and the rain began to get heavier. That meant that we could not see so much in the way of views, but that was made up for by the flora. We passed alpine meadows, with little Austrian huts (probably for storing hay), filled with a huge diversity of plants, all in flower. I saw Corallorhiza (coralroot), a parasitic orchid growing by the side of the path. I pretty sure that is the first time I've ever seen it. There was also Primula farinosa, a gorgeous bright pink Primula, which I have only ever seen once in the wild before, in Upper Teesdale, and a Clematis montana clambering over a shrub, looking strangely out of place for not being in a garden.
As we climbed up, we came into the clouds and it began to get quite wet. Fortunately, we stopped to eat the ham and cheese croissants that we had bought at Innsbruck station in time, when the rain was still light.
We reached the hut at about two o'clock, though it felt like later. By then it was raining harder. I was pleased to discover that my new hiking trousers were indeed somewhat water-repellant, and the new rucksack's built-in coat worked well as well, keeping my things dry. We shed our wet gear in a room heated to a high temperature with a wood-burning stove and ordered a tea – with milk! I then lay down on a bench and fell asleep.Read more
Evening at NM Hut
June 12 in Austria ⋅ ☁️ 8 °C
In the evening, we contemplated the route for the next day. The original idea was to go via the Great Solstein mountain, perhaps along its side rather than going over the top. However, even though it was not actually that far in kilometers, it would involve a lot of climbing and we looked at the closely-spaced contour lines with new eyes in the light of where we had walked today. That was going to be much steeper. The alternative was to take a more direct route, which we had initially discounted because it had a 'chimney' to climb. That struck me as exceptionally scary. However, after much googling and even a little eavesdropping on the conversation of a Dutch group on the other side of the room, we decided to give it a go.
Our room for the night was with the famous large shelf instead of a bed. A row of mattresses was placed on the shelf and everyone sleeps next to each other. In this case, it was only three beds and in fact we had the room to oursleves, so that was fine. It was incredibly hot in the communal room, so we retired to our own room straight after eating. In bed by 9:30, lights out at 10:05.Read more
NM Hut to Solsteinhaus
June 13 in Austria ⋅ ☀️ 15 °C
The next day dawned fine and dry, so we set off with good spirits. First we paused to say goodbye to the large herd of long-eared goats outside the hut and then to photograph a great big patch of Trollius which was growing outside.
As we left the hut, we passed the winter shelter. This is never locked and is for when hikers get stranded in the mountains in bad weather. Just beyond that, there was a small herd of alpine cows. They had brown and white faces, and a mottled sort of purply brown body. Of course they had cowbells around their necks – as did the goats. They weren't that loud, but even after we had walked for an hour, we could still hear them, due to the shape of the mountains.
Before long, we reached our first stretch of via ferrata. Stretches of cable are attached to a vertical rock face with a narrow ledge beneath to walk along. At first sight and from a distance, it looks very scary, especially with a long, steep drop below. However, as soon as I actually got to it, it turned out to be fine. It was necessary to go carefully and pay attention, and I was also glad that it was dry, but it was okay.
The rock faces were also studded with interesting plants. Viola biflora was a pretty little yellow pansy which was new to, and were to see a lot of in the coming days. Aster alpinus had nice mauve flowers, rather like a Michaelmas daisy, but on a small scruffy rosette of leaves rather than a big plant. I was quite excited to see Primula auricula growing in some rocky crevices. I only knew that as a garden plant. In Victorian times they used to make "Primula theatres", which were shelved cabinets with a black background to show off the bright flowers. These were between lime green and yellow, very attractive. Shortly after that we begun to see clumps of Pinguicula alpina. I know a Pinguicula vugaris, which is also carnivorous from the lowlands, but this was the first time that I had met the alpine species. It is more delicate colour than P. vulgaris, but otherwise quite similar.
After a bit we came across our first patch of snow, lying across the path. Fortunately it wasn't too icy and gave a bit as we trod into it, because it was on quite a slope, so slipping there could cause problems. My walking stick with a pointy end was also helpful there.
There were also spectacular views, looking across the Inn valley to the mountains on the other side. Unlike yesterday, the clouds were much less and also high, so we could clearly see the snow-capped peaks.
After a while we came to the famous 'chimney' (kaminl). We saw it from a distance and wondered if our path could possibly go that way. It seemed to go vertically up a rock face. How was that going to be possible without ropes? A family had overtaken us and we soon saw that indeed they headed that way and slowly ascended towards the top. We decided that if they could do it we should at least give it a try. As with the earlier via ferrata, once we started, it was all not so difficult. We did indeed have to scramble up the rocks, but the cables and occasional large iron staple made it all possible. It was steep, but far from vertical, and as long as we were careful, there was actually no danger. It was over 100 metres of elevation on quite a short section of path.
The routes in the Alps are graded according to the Swiss Hiking Scale (SAC). T1 is a normal footpath, with no dangers at all. T2 is the same but with steep slopes. T3 is where steel cables and chains are necessary in parts, or scree slopes. Good shoes are required and basic Alpine experience. Today's route was T3. Then T4 to T6 are where there might not be a path at all, and it gets increasingly steep and difficult. T5 and T6 are real climbing routes where ropes and a pickaxe are needed.
After the chimney, the path went more gently up and down, but that was not to say that it was easy. The path was covered in the roots, and sometimes branches of small shrubs. That was mostly Pinus montana, but also Alpenrose (Rhododendron ferrugineum) which was just coming into flower. That meant picking our way over the routes, so that the couple of kilometres from the top of the chimney to the hut took a couple of hours. In general, it is astonishing how slowly we moved over the mountain paths. Today, we did an average of only 0.7 kph, including breaks. On other paths, we were passed by trail runners (or fell runners, as they are called in the Lakes) who ran along the difficult paths as easily as if they were on tarmac, but here even they would have to pick their way across the obstacles.
As we approached the hut, we came across our first gentian flowers, Gentiana verna. I had been really hoping to see this plant. Since I first saw it in Upper Teesdale about 40 years ago, I have seen it one time in the Italian Alps above Turin. In the coming days we would see huge numbers carpeting the ground. It is such an incredible deep pure blue colour, there is nothing else like it. An amazing flower. Then a few metres further on, a big patch of gentians with much bigger flowers, almost twice the size of G. verna. That was Gentiana clusii. We would also see a lot of that in the coming days as well. Another flower that I had really been hoping to see was one of the alpine Ranunculuses. And there it was, a flush full of white flowers, Ranunculus alpina. The next days we were to see large meadows filled with that, like daisies in a lawn, but this was the first time I had ever seen it. Coincidentally, as I write this, a month later, there was a programme on the radio this morning in which they said that R alpina is an indicator species for global warming. It is retreating uphill as the treeline goes up and at the same time making its way to higher elevations. It is getting squeezed as on some mountains, there is nowhere higher up for it to go.
We could see the hut, Solsteinhaus, from there, on the opposite side of the valley, so then it was just a short, easy walk, past some shocking pink clumps of Silene aucaulis (Moss Campion), to get there. It wasn't late, so we could order a large lunch, which we ate outside on the terrace in the warm sun and strong wind.Read more
Afternoon walk, Solsteinhaus
June 13 in Austria ⋅ ☀️ 16 °C
Despite the steep climbing, this morning's walk wasn't so long, so we got to the hut in good time, and after our late lunch there was still time for a short afternoon walk. We decided to just walk until the path went steeply up or down, which meant that we only got 300 metres, but that was fine as the view was so spectacular that we could just sit and watch it for a while. In the background were the Solstein mountains (Grosser and Kleiner Solstein – Kleiner being higher than Grosser) and in the foreground, a wonderful carpet of alpine flora. There were yellow buttercups, looking rather like the ones at home, except that their fleshy leaves gave them away as Ranunculus montanus. Then there were huge numbers of the white Ranunculus alpestris, growing like daisies in a lawn, interspersed with Dryas octopetala. Most spectacular of all, great clumps of Gentiana verna, a similar blue to the sky above, but an even deeper blue.
When we got back to the hut, I battled with the apparatus for charging the phone. In yesterday's hut there was a "handy box", where you just plugged your phone charger in, and they locked it for safety, but we didn't find out about it until breakfast, and then it was too late. We knew we had a long walk tomorrow, so the phones and watches needed charging (and indeed halfway along, my watch went into ultra-power-saving mode, recording the track but no heart rate and no navigation), but they had a commercial charger, which charged at a very slow rate for a very high price and was also a bit broken. All a bit irritating, but we survived. In fact, navigation was not much of an issue, as the paths were very clearly signed and we had perfect weather.
The hut was quite large, and it was full. There were three dining rooms and each group had their names written on a small porcelain board so everyone would know where to sit. The food was good and plentiful, and they even found me an alternative for the chocolate cake served for pudding.
In the evening I read more of Twan Huys' book Droompad. It could not be more apt, all about a father and his child walking a long-distance footpath through the Alps close to where we were. They also came across steep ledges with steel cables to hang on to, experienced crowded huts and enjoyed the beautiful flora and landscape. He also wrote about how on a walk like that it is companionable to just walk together in silence but, at the same time, easy to talk about all sorts.
We had a room with five beds and two other people. There was a big skylight with no curtain, so we (or rather, the other two) rigged up a blanket to keep most of the light out. It was a cold and very windy night, so despite the stuffiness, we had to close the window.Read more
Solsteinhaus to Nördlinger Hut
June 14 in Austria ⋅ ⛅ 11 °C
Today's was the longest walk of the trip, in fact, it was my longest in years in terms of the number of hours. We walked for nine hours (including breaks) but only covered ten kilometres. That was due to a combination of walking over two mountains (888 metres up and 470 metres down) and a lot of steep scree.
After leaving the hut, we rounded a corner, and there was the first mountain in front of us – the Erlspitze. We could see it plainly enough, but we could not work out where the path went. Surely not straight up that apparently vertical slope of loose rocks facing us? After a short walk and clambering over a stream, we reached the bottom of the slope, and indeed, that scree slope was where we were heading. The scree was gravel, and it was steep enough so that for each tread uphill, you also slipped back a little bit. That was quite tiring and also meant that it was only possible to walk at your own pace, so Suzanne and I separated a bit. There were also very few plants managing to grow on the dry, unstable slopes, so not so much to slow me down.
Eventually we got to the top. Looking back, we could see last night's hut in the distance. There was a small patch of snow, much whiter than the somewhat grubby patches we had seen up to now. And looking forwards, there was a whole new valley, with a dazzling view into the distance, made all the more dramatic by dark thunderclouds overhead. The hut had printed out weather forecasts and put them on the breakfast table, and they said that there would be rain in northern Tyrol. However, we were lucky, the clouds were raining in the distance, but we stayed dry.
Having got to the top on one side of the mountain, we then descended down the other side, towards the valley. That was not easier than going up. The loose scree meant that we had to continually pay attention to where we stepped and be ready to use our sticks for stability. On this side, more or less with a north-facing aspect, there were lots of plants to look at. I saw Soldanella alpina, which has two delightful English names, alpine snowbell and blue moonwort. It is in the Primula family, I had read about it in the flora before setting off and was very happy to actually see it in the flesh. There were also lots of Primula auricula growing on the scree as well as Ranunculus montanus and R. alpestrus.
We were expecting to go down the valley in front of us, but when we got to the bottom of the scree, our path forked off to the left, and we headed along the side of the mountain, following the contour line. That was easy going, which made a pleasant change. There were yet more new plants to see, like Bartsia alpina (subject of a failed PhD by a friend of mine back in Manchester – it grew too slowly to be able to measure), Valeriana alpina (looking just like garden valerian) and Myosotis alpestris (looking just like a normal forget-me-not).
As we walked along, we saw a single chamois grazing off to our right and then we looked the other way and saw a small herd of them a couple of hundred metres away, looking back at us. We thought that we might be disturbing them, so quickly moved on.
Shortly after that, we came across a large snowfield lying across the path. It wasn't on a slope, so slipping wouldn't mean falling off the mountain, but the snow wasn't so deep anymore, and it was covering some rather pointy-looking rocks. Nevertheless, it was quite soft, so it wasn't too slippery and not too much of a problem to walk across it.
At the end of the flat section, there was a short steep uphill over the Breiter Saddle, which was a pass or shoulder between two valleys, where a number of footpaths came together. That meant that we had views in multiple directions. There were a couple of young people with a drone there. The drone was flying around, taking aerial videos of the surroundings. The videos were not going to be online, so we could not see them, unfortunately.
We then got to our second big climb of the day. It was just as steep, but this time instead of gravel and screen, there was a solid path, with vegetation cementing the hillside in place. That made it in principle much easier, but by then we had been walking for several hours, so it was still hard work. About half way up, the path was diverted due to a small snowfield. By the look of it, the old route was still passable, but if everyone went that way, it would have caused quite some erosion. That snow was a bit harder, so it was only possible to walk up it by stamping hard into it for grip, using our sticks and keeping going as fast as we could manage. We both did manage it, but it wasn't easy.
Above the snowfield, we saw a few black birds circling around. They looked like crows, but had a very melodic call, quite unlike any crow I had ever heard. At first I even thought that the calls must be from a different bird than the one I was looking at. However, Merlin confirmed that it was indeed the call of a sort of crow, a Red-billed chough (Alpenkraai). They were playing with the wind currents swirling around the peak, with incredible acrobatic dexterity.
We got to the top of the hill at about four 'o'clock, still accompanied by the choughs, and began to wonder if we might even be late for dinner. When we left, the signpost had said five hours, it looked like we were taking about twice as long. On the other hand, we should have done most of the uphill now. We were at about 2000 meters above sea level, and our final destination was at 2230 m.
It was very windy at the top, so we didn't hang around. The path swung off to the west and just below the top of the ridge. At the top there were lots of Primulas, both farinosa and auricula, and then as we moved along the south-facing slope, the vegetation opened up to scree again. Apparently, counterintuitively, south-facing slopes can be more harsh in the mountains as the sun melts the snow and the underlying plants are unprotected. We began to see a few little saxifrages, including a rather pretty Saxifraga caesia with gunmetal-coloured leaves and Saxifraga oppositifolia with pretty purple flowers. When we were students, we once walked for hours on a field trip in Wales, to Cader Idris, to see that plant growing at one of its only UK sites. Later that day we witnessed a remarkable phenomenon; the cloud was in front and below us and the sun behind. The sunlight cast a shadow our our heads on the cloud and each person saw a rainbow around their shadow. I have never seen that since, apparently, it is very rare.
For a while the path was quite easy, and then just as we were getting close to our destination, there were some technical bits with scrambling over rocks and snow with the help of steel cables. We had to be very focused, as by now we were getting tired, and it would not do to make a mistake.
Finally, we arrived at the hut at about five with time for a cup of tea before the evening meal.Read more
Nördlinger Hut
June 14 in Austria ⋅ ☁️ 12 °C
The hut had lots of pictures around the wall of a village called Nördliner in Germany. I thought it was just a bit of a coincidence, but someone sitting at our table explained that many of the Alpine huts had been established by mountaineering clubs in Germany who wanted a base for their own expeditions, and this one was indeed from the village of Nördlinger in Germany. The hut had been built round the turn of the last century, and although it had been renovated in the 80s, it was in need of improvement. Some of the toilets were outside, and the only drinking water was brought up by cable car all the way from the valley bottom. In the evening they put out a whole row of jugs of water for everyone to fill their own bottles from. That meant that we had to brush our teeth using water which was not fit for drinking.
The chef (who was also the hut's manager) was rather distressed to see on my booking that I could not eat garlic, as he puts it in everything, and came to see me to see if it was really true. After some discussion, he did manage to find alternatives. We were so hungry after walking for nine hours that we ate two puddings. Between the courses, the manager also gave a little talk to everyone there, welcoming us and telling us about the place. I guess he must give the same talk every evening, so it is amazing he managed to sound fresh and interested.
A Dutch couple were sitting at the next table. In fact, one of them had been born in Wageningen, and so she noticed that I was wearing a Tour Club Wageningen shirt. She was rather confused by the combination of that with us speaking English to each other. The hut was quite full, with all the tables occupied at the meal. I noticed that it looked like as if I was the oldest person there, which was a bit of a shock.
Between courses, we had a quick game of Scrabble. Of course it was the German version with vowels with umlauts (with many points), so we had to make some adjustments. On previous evenings we had done a couple of Sudoku puzzles together. That was a game on my e-reader. I was too tired to concentrate enough (and Suzanne was better anyway), so we had to swap e-readers.
Later on that evening, there was the most incredible sunset looking out towards the Italian Alps in the distance. The dark thunder clouds that we had seen earlier were still there, and below them the orange light of the setting sun lit up the mountains in silhouette.
We were instructed to be in bed at ten, so we went up at a quarter to. The other six people in our room were already fast asleep with the lights out, and I hadn't unpacked my rucksack. I was in the top bunk, so made an embarrassingly large amount of noise fumbling around and making annoyed sounds to myself.Read more
To Seefeld
June 15 in Austria ⋅ ⛅ 8 °C
After the strenuous day yesterday, we decided to take it easy today and had a gentle 2 km walk to a cable car to take us down the mountain. Even that short distance still took us an hour and twenty minutes over the Alpine path. No new alpine species today, unless you count some small Arabis clumps of uncertain identity, maybe pumila, though there was a lot of Anthyllis vulneraria (kidney vetch, aka woundwort), which we had not seen yet and is not so common.
It was only 7 degrees when we set off, so I put on my new warm fleece for the first time. With bright sunny weather, we had clear views all round, both looking down to Seefeld and back to the hut. The path had some stern warning signs on it about how sure-footed you had to be, but in fact it was much easier than the previous days. That was probably because of the cable car. In Twan Huys' book (which I finished last night) he wrote that it is quite a problem that people with no idea go up into the mountains with the cable car and then try to walk with inappropriate footwear and clothing.
The cable car took us swiftly down to its base station at Rosshütte. That was clearly set up for a large numbers of people in the skiing season, with large concrete areas. It did have an attractive cafe with spectacular views. I had an excellent cake, and Suzanne some wierd 'spekbrood'. When we arrived, we were the only ones there, so it was quite a surprise to turn around and see that it was full behind us.
We descended the rest of the way to the valley bottom by means of a funicular railway, which was fun, then walked into town to find a supermarket for lunch. It felt odd to be walking on tarmac.Read more
Wildsee Seefeld
June 15 in Austria ⋅ ☀️ 17 °C
It was a bit of a culture shock to be in a village even after only three days walking in the mountains. Seefeld was very touristy. It has hosted the Winter Olympics on several occasions and was full of souvenir shops. However, we had a pleasant walk around a lake next to the village, the Wildsee, which had information boards every few metres, most of which were surprisingly interesting. There were quite a lot of orchids growing in the wetlands next to the lake. The boards promised Charophytes at one stage, but there was no sign of them. We could look back up the mountain and see the hut that we had left this morning as a small dot, far away in the distance.
When we got to the village we had a look for souvenirs and then got the train into Innsbruck. I accidentally only bought one ticket, and when I discovered that, we desperately tried to buy another one quickly before the conductor arrived, despite the patchy internet. However, it was no problem, when the conductor arrived, he just sold us another ticket at the same price. Very civilised.
We were sitting next to a friendly student at Innsbruck University who helpfully pointed out to us when photo opportunities were coming up.Read more
Innsbuck and home
June 15 in Austria ⋅ ☀️ 25 °C
The train went from Seefeld to Zirl (our starting point) in a few short minutes and then on to Innsbruck. It was really hot there, especially in the sun. We wandered around looking for souvenirs and ice cream, and amazing ourselves with the prices of the gear in outdoor shops, and then walked along the river to the Hofgarten. We found a shady spot under a large tree in the park and sat and read. I read A Stroke of the Pen: The Lost Stories of Terry Pratchett, a collection of his early writings published in a local newspaper under a pseudonym. They didn't quite have the brilliance of his mature work, but it was still entertaining to read them.
As evening approached, we searched on Google for a suitable restaurant, but there was nothing to be found. Seeing it was a Monday, most places were closed. So, we decided just to wander into town and see what we could find. Somewhat to my surprise, we did quite quickly find somewhere good. There was a small restaurant on the cathedral square where we could sit outside and eat. Most of the customers were students, so the prices were reasonable as well. A group of swifts was circling around overhead, calling to each other.
Then it was time to get our train, so we headed for the station. This time, we were sharing our carriage with two other people. One was a quiet academic, who had been to a maths conference there. The other was a full-time professional mountain guide. He told us that he didn't like to walk up the same mountain twice as that would be boring. I nearly fell off my chair with shock. Before we started the trip, I had re-read Nan Shepherd's The Living Mountain, arguably the best book nature ever written. She walked in the Cairngorm mountains for many years, in all weathers and seasons, before she felt that she had an intimate enough knowledge of the region to write about it. Also, from my own experience, I cycle the same tracks on the Veluwe time after time, and it is always different, and I never tire of it.
The next morning, we got in to Arnhem and Utrecht on time, and it was all over.Read more
TravelerEen mooie start!