Main Alpine Divide. Section 05. Zillertal Alps

February 9, 2022

Day 038. Steinhaus to Kasseler Hutte. 12 Km. 8 Hrs. 1780 m up. 650m down. It was dark outside when the alarm went off at 0400. I had decided to have an early start because the forecast said it would cloud over by midday and also today was a bit of an unknown quantity when it came to how long it would take. By the time I packed, made up all the 7 rolls with butter, cheese and tomato and then had my breakfast of 3 of these rolls and a half litre of yoghurt it was already 0530 and completely light outside. The sky was totally clear and developing a blue hue from the grey of the dawn. 

I quickly found the route out of town up an asphalt road which zig-zagged up for 10 minutes to a lovely old farm. The farmer was of course already up and he was going into his barn to milk his cows. We greeted each other before he disappeared inside the large wooden barn which was sitting on a huge fortress-like foundation of stones. I left the asphalt road which went to more farms on the side of this side valley and continued up on a forest track for nearly half an hour to a cluster of 3 farms quite high up in the small Keilbachtal valley which I was heading up. Only one looked like it was still operating and was very pretty, while the other two were in good condition structurally but the curtains were all drawn and the paint on the windows was peeling. I am sure the owners of the two dormant farms are working elsewhere and perhaps lease or gift the hay in their meadows to the remaining farmer. 

The route now left the track and went up through the fir forest on a tiny seldom used path until it reached a serene meadow on the small valley floor. There were 3 haylofts here and someone had recently mown and gathered the first cut. I assumed it was stored in these haylofts. I picked up the track again which I am sure I would have been better off following, thus avoiding the faint forest path, and walked up it through the rest of the serene meadow and a section of forest above it. Beside the track in the forest there were thousands of the large spotted orchid, with at least 50 to a square metre in places. 

Unfortunately this lovely track came to an end and I was on a tiny footpath again. It climbed steeply beside the Keilbach stream which was cascading down a long slab of steep rock from far above. It was not a powerful torrent but it spread out across the slabs and was visible through the trees. It took a good half hour to climb up beside it reaching a very rickety bridge which was covered in gravel presumably from yesterday’s deluge. Wires anchored it to both banks otherwise I am sure it would have got swept down the slabs. There was an alm here and someone was living in the cabin, which was far from pretty. They were keeping goats as there were signs everywhere to keep dogs on a lead with pictures of goats. 

The tiny path now went up the west side of the stream which was much more sedate as it flowed down the more gentle valley floor which was covered in Dwarf Pine bushes. There were signs of goats everywhere including the pungent smell but I did not see any. Behind me there was a great view across the main Ahrntal valley with the the clear morning sun illuminating the  mountains on the other side. I could see south from here and there was a range of mountains in the distance which I think were the Dolomites, and I recognized the great whale back of Marmolada with its north facing glaciers. There were just a few distant clouds in the sky, but otherwise it was a lovely day with clear morning air. 

After a two and a half hour climb the path reached Keilbachmoos, a meadow of renowned beauty in a steep sided cirque with some glaciers on the ring of peaks surrounding it. I am sure the meadow was once a lake, now filled with boulders, gravel and sediment. It was covered in a smooth green drift of grasses which were so uniform in colour it could have been green velvet from a snooker table. Across this meandered the small crystal clear stream. A ring of cliffs encircled the meadow down which a few plumes of water cascaded. At the top of the cliffs were open grass and boulder slopes which extended up to the bare rocky grey mountains and their snow fields and glaciers. I can see why on a day like this it has a fabled reputation. The view down the valley was also stunning with the stream disappearing down through the dwarf pine to begin its adventurous journey to the Adriatic through the ridges of peaks to the south. 

It was only 0800 so I lingered here a bit enjoying the calm and warmth of the fabled meadow. There was no chink in the ramparts which formed the cliffs around the meadow so the route went up the the slopes to the east side before the cliffs started. The path was non-existent but there were painted markings on the stones. I think very few people come this way, perhaps 25 each year. The path was strewn with boulders often with turf between, and this was covered in wildflowers. The route climbed well above the top of the ring of cliffs on the steep slopes until it got to the base of the rocky mountains. It then headed north keeping well above the cliffs below as it hugged the base of the mountains. It took nearly an hour to finally climb out of this giant funnel and reach the higher valley beyond it which was filled with moraine. The whole time I was climbing round the top of the cliffs the meadow below was vibrant in the morning sun and beyond it rose the magnificent Kielbachspitze, 3034m which looked much bigger than its 3034 metres due to the small glaciers and snowfields on its steep grey rocky flanks.

For the next hour and a half the well marked route for the non-existent path threaded a careful route up ridges and gullies in the moraine left by the long vanished glacier. It was a carefully planned route as it avoided the direct line which would have gone through large boulders and instead kept to areas where a lot of smaller stones, cobbles even, and gravel was deposited. The walking was much easier in this terrain. Occasionally there was no option and the marked route had to cross areas with vast boulders to link up easier sections. The boulders were large and I spent my whole time on the top ridges and spines of them hoping from one spike to another. A misjudged step would have meant at least a metre tumble into the gaps between them which would have at least done some minor damage. I was lucky it was dry and the soles of my boots were sticky. I moved at less than a kilometre an hour. 

The boulders got worse as I neared the pass at the crest of the main Zillertal ridge. Some of the boulders were new having peeled off from the crest and tumbled down the slabs of the arete I was going up. I had to tread very carefully here. Soon I reached the final shallow slopes up abrasive bare rock and clambered up to the ridge where the view down into the cirque on the other side appeared at once. I had to go along the crest of the ridge a bit and noticed how it was peeling apart as the winter ice forced the stacked fissured rock apart until some would spill down on one or other side. After 200-300 metres it was easier to go down newly shed rock slabs for 5 minutes to reach the first snowfield. 

The marked route seemed to shun the snowfields but I liked to keep to them. I put on my gaiters and then started going down the shallow snow trying to link the fields up. Between the fields was smooth bare rock which was dry and grippy so I just sauntered down it to get to the next snowfield. At the bottom they got a bit steeper but it was a concave slope so I would come to no harm if I slipped other than wet legs and shorts before I came to a natural stop. After 20 minutes of this fun I finally linked up with the sensible marked route. I followed this route down to the shallow lakes in the bottom of the cirque in an unnecessarily convoluted way. To my east was Wollbachspitze, 3209m. Its shattered ridges looked steep and fragile and I am glad I was not going near it. It had the sad remnants of what once must have been a magnificent glacier which ended in the lake I was going to. Now it ended 500 metres from the lake high up on rock slabs where it would wither and die. 

From the silty lake the marked route now became much more visible underfoot as some of the path was roughly constructed. It also kept to the gravel and cobbles areas and avoided the large boulders. It zig-zagged down from the lake for perhaps half an hour across rocky areas full of marmots. However it kept to the easier terrain so the going was much faster with at least two kilometres per hour. Kasseler Hutte was sited under a prow which protected it from any avalanche and I did not really see it until I was 50 metres away. The Zillertal is a huge massif with a high ridge in the south and the deep Zillertal valley in the north. However some 6-7 massive ridges with jagged peaks stretch north from the main ridge towards the main valley where they abruptly descend. Between these 6-7 main ridges are 6-7 valleys and Kasseler Hutte lies at the end of one of these, called Stillupgrund. On the other side of this side valley was a jagged ridge with the pass over to the next cabin, Greizer Hutte,  and at the head of the valley was the heavily glaciated Grosser Lother. Kasselerhutte had a great view of this mountain. 

The hut was built some 120 years ago by an alpine “Section” in Germany. Back then Germany and Austria were made up of individual provinces and cities and each area had an outdoor or alpine club called a Section. These Sections raised money to build local clubs and also a hut in the alps where the eager could go and pit their skills in the high mountains. The huts are still supported by these cities and the umbrella organisation of the DAV. Nearly all still bear their name which is why there are so many Austrian huts named after German cities. Kasseler Hutte is still the hut of the city of Kassel for its Section members to use. The Sections rent their huts out to caterers in the tourist months and the leaseholder pays a rent and passes on the bed fees, but keeps the money for the food and drink. Often the German huts are rented out to Germans who are the caterers, as was the case here and they employed further Germans and a Nepali.

The hut was quite busy so I went onto the terrace. The hut warden pounced on me for a drink sale, so I ordered a skiwasser, a blackcurrant cordial in soda water. Then his girlfriend and business partner arrived to check me in. I was informed of the rules and then dispatched to bed 14 in dormitory 1. A lot of people in the hut were doing the Zillertal Hohenweg. A good  week’s circular walking tour from Mayrhofen which goes over 3 or 4 of the gigantic side ridges which emanate from the main Zillertal ridge. I would be doing the lion’s share of it over the next 4 days going clockwise. That evening I sat at a table with 5 Germans who were just finishing the anticlockwise version of it. They all went on an annual lads walking holiday each year with challenging hikes each day washed down with barrel of beer between them. They were a friendly, bright bunch and in high spirits as tomorrow they had an easy day to complete the tour.

Day 039. Kasseler Hutte to Greizer Hutte. 10 Km. 4.5 Hrs. 830 m up. 760m down. It was not a great night due to doors slamming in the wind all night but I managed 4 or 5 sleep periods. Breakfast was a perfunctory buffet, laid out with essentials only and all decanted out of catering packs onto serving trays like a scout camp canteen. The weather forecast said it would be good until midday and then it would rain. So I set off soon after 0700 hoping to do the expected 5 hours before the rain came. I was not too bothered about getting wet, but I was wary of thunder and lightning (Donner und Blitzen) and I wanted some visibility to take photos. 

The route today was quite simple, contour round the head of the valley to the opposite side, then climb 600 metres over a ridge and descend 600 metres on the farside to Greizlerhutte. The contour around the head of the Stillupgrund valley was great. The mist lingered in the valley just below the contour height of about 2200 metres. Above me were the small glaciers on the northside of Keilbachspitze and then the large glacier of Gross Loffler which disappeared up into the high cloud. The sun however broke through frequently and it was warm and pleasant. The were quite a few streams to cross and only one had a bridge. All the streams were small enough at the moment to cross hoping from boulder to boulder, but it would not take much for them to become impassable and getting swept downstream cascading across steep slabs or ravines would be fatal. In one crossing the swollen stream had recently ripped a steep sided cleft in the moraine debris and it was difficult to find a route in the newly exposed rubble but enough people had been over since the damage to mark a faint route. 

Towards the end of this section and after the streams from the glaciers the mountainside became very steep and it descended slightly to cross some steep slabs. Here the path looked like it had been hacked into the rock. This was probably done by members of the Kasseler Section 100 years ago. There were cables for a good 150 or 200 metres here. At the most exposed section there were even iron posts drilled into the rock on the outside of the path and then these were linked by cables to form a bannister. By now the mist had burnt off from the valley to reveal a classic U shaped valley formed by a huge long-vanished glacier. It was straight from a geography textbook.

After the cables the climb started and this was perhaps the nicest part of the day. It was pretty much 600 metres up a mixed hillside of small boulder and turf. The turf was covered in wildflowers, especially the bright all yellow daisies which I think is Arnica, and also extensive drifts of the pale blue alpine forget me not. There were a few marmots about to enliven the climb. My legs feel quite tireless now as long as I don’t go too quickly and I sauntered up the entire slope in one go pausing just for photos. Towards the top there was a large snowfield which I opted to go on instead as I could see 2 young Belgiums struggling through a gnarly area of huge boulders where the path went. The pass, called Lapenscharte at 2701m, was a cleft really in the ridgeline and when I reached it the wind nearly took my hat off. 

The view on the other side was even better than it had been at Kasseler Hutte. I now peered down into another of the great U shaped Zillertal side valleys. This one was called Floitengrund and it too had the high peaks of the main Zillertal ridge at its head. Most impressive were the unseen peaks of Floitenspitze and Schwarzenstein, both 3200m ish mountains, whose summits were in the cloud. There was still a large, crevassed and active glacier coming down Schwarzenstein and crossing this alone would have been very foolhardy. I could see tomorrow’s climb up over the Morchnerscarte across the valley and it looked more demanding than today’s pleasant climb. 

I descended 20 metres to get out of the wind and found a flat sunny stone to have my bread and cheese rolls on which I still had from Steinhaus. As I ate them I noticed 2 female Ibex on top of a vast boulder. They were grazing the grass on it about 150 metres away. Then they both sat down and enjoyed the sun on top of their citadel. I took photos but they were too far away to get anything good. The descent down from Lapenscarte was about 500 metres but it was reasonably easy and the views were invigorating. The path zig-zagged down a steep grassy slope and had embedded itself into the turf forming a bit of a trough. I went past the Ibex and continued down for perhaps 20 minutes until I saw Greizlerhutte perched on a slope with the backdrop of glaciers behind it. The sky was totally covered in clouds now and much of it was dark and mist was welling up the valley. The fine weather was about to break. The final kilometre was a slow traverse across a boulder field. However there was an impressive rough pavement laid between the boulders which must have taken some effort to complete, manoeuvring huge slabs into place. Just before I reached the hut the rising mist from the valley enveloped me. I passed a small shed just before the Greizerhutte and it looked like goats were kept here. 50 metres later I reached the hut. 

There were about 10 beautiful brown goats milling about the hut with a few people sitting stroking them. Judging from the boots and ice axes they were mountaineers doing one of the bigger peaks or crossing glaciers. The hut warden was local from Mayrhofen and he owned the goats. He and his wife ran the hut and straight away I could see it was much more relaxed. He told me to take a bed in dormitory 17. I was the first so I bagged the mattress next to the window so I could keep it open tonight. A bit later Tim arrived. He lived in Munich and I had noticed him slowly catching me up all day. We went down and ordered some snacks. Tim it transpired was a vegan which was music to my ears as my vegetarian demands would pale into the background. Soon everybody who was at Kasselerhutte last night arrived and us 15 odd hikers mingled with the climbers in the dining room. I sat and wrote the blog until 1600 hoping for a good ambience come the evening. By now the rain had arrived and it was miserable outside with some hailstones mixed in with the rain. 

Slowly the dining room filled up with groups doing the Zillertal High Route and groups hoping to go up Gross Loffler tomorrow, with about 20 of each. Tim joined me and then two other Germans, Bernard and Christian, joined Tim. All three were instantly likeable and spoke great English, which they kindly did. We ate together and then had a few drinks together afterwards. The atmosphere in the hut was becoming a bit like an rural British pub mid evening with conservations getting louder and more raucous as they competed with laughter from neighbouring tables. The ambience was fantastic. The hut warden’s wife was plying everybody with drink and swooped on a table as soon as the glasses were near empty. She was carrying 4 pints in each hand sometimes to the bigger, thirstier tables while the warden was pouring them. For them it must have been a great night because the markup on drinks in the huts is about 300%.  At 2000 the rain seemed to stop and the mist broke up. Everybody piled outside to see the evening light on the surrounding peaks after the poor weather of the afternoon. The late sun and lingering mist made for some very atmospheric views.  The whole hut suddenly seemed to call it a day around 2100 and prepared for bed.

Day 40. Greizer Hutte to Berlinerhutte. 10 Km. 5.5 Hrs. 1060 m up. 1210m down. There were only 6 of us in the dormitory of 14 mattresses and I was right beside the window, which gave me some control over it. I made sure it stayed wide open all night. It was also a quiet collection of men and there was no snoring. At breakfast everybody remarked what a good night’s sleep they had. Breakfast was poor and given the amount of drink the warden had sold the night before to the 8 to 10 groups of hikers and climbers, probably well over 250 half-litres. It irked me a bit that breakfast was so mean.  However one look outside and all that was soon forgotten. 

It was very still without a breath of wind and the valley was filled with a smooth layer of undisturbed mist just below us. Above this mist it was crystal clear without a single cloud. Far above a jet passed and there was no condensation trail at all, always a sign of stable weather. I was the first to set off and headed down the trail under the hoist wires to the valley floor. I passed the goats en route just as I dropped into the mist. It was like slipping down into a bath full of foam and soon my world was a bubble 100 metres wide. It was a damp descent with dew drops on the grass and flowers. Down and down the path went, every step down a wasted effort as it all had to be regained imminently. As I neared the bottom the stream of the valley floor gleamed white through the mist which seemed to be thinning. Indeed soon I felt the warmth of the sun as it tried to break through.

By the time I got to the stream it was almost clear and I could see the mountains on three sides all around me like a giant amphitheatre. I crossed the larger clear stream on wooden beams and it was probably too wide to hop over without getting wet feet. Not far beyond it was a smaller stream which came down from the gully I would be going up. There had been a violent event in this gully with a surge of water, snow and boulders cascading down and ripping a deep trench in the moraine. It is alarming that these episodes are getting more common as global warming means the warmer air can hold more moisture, which means heavier rain. Some deluges are so heavy they create a torrent which carries all before it including 20 ton boulders. In the last 2-3 years such an event had happened here and the resulting trench was deep and steep sided and would have been difficult to cross were it not for previous hikers’ footsteps. 

Once across this loose ravine the 1000 metre climb started, and it looked like it would be without letup. Initially the path zig-zagged up for 15 minutes to the bottom of a ladder. It was just an aluminium ladder one could buy in a hardware store which was bolted and tied onto the bottom of a craggy outcrop. It was perhaps 5 metres high and steep but not vertical. It led up onto the side of a steep buttress. Here a footpath had been hacked into the side of the buttress. It was very well protected with cables with some of the more exposed sections even having wire handrails on the outside of the path too, attached to iron posts. Despite being steep this south facing slope was covered in flowers and with a huge variety of species. When I looked back down the slope it was a smooth slope of green vegetation with a sharp edge where the torrent had ripped away at previously stable rock and carried it down to the valley floor. The heavily cabled path then doubled back on itself and traversed up onto the crest of the buttress, again on a steep rocky cable-protected path, occasionally hacked into the rock face. It took half an hour from the valley floor to get onto the crest of the buttress. 

Once on the buttress the main task of the day lay before me as it soared up to a narrow distant cleft on the massive side ridge. Behind me I could see Greizler Hutte, slightly higher than me across the valley, which was clear of mist now. Above Griezler Hutte rose Gross Loffler mountain which I had virtually encircled over the last 2 days. Its flanks were covered in gleaming white snowfields which were slowly melting revealing the dark blue fissured glaciers underneath. These glaciers were still heavily crevassed and the few groups which set out from Greizlerhutte the same time to climb Gross Loffler were all carrying rope.

The climb up the buttress was sustained. The path zig-zagged hundreds of times with each one gaining just a few metres before switching back. It was not particularly steep, and as long as I took it at a steady pace it was not really that taxing. I just plodded up taking small steps for a couple of hours, frequently turning to take photographs of the scenes behind me under the perfect blue skies. As I climbed the flowers got shorter until the grasses started to peter out and the bare rocky earth started, which is where the more prostate alpines took over. Further down the buttress I could see Bernard and Christian slowly catching me and then Tim further down catching them. I reached the pass, Morchnerscharte, about 2800m, at the same time as a group of 3 came up from the other side and we chatted a bit each enjoying the new view which suddenly burst upon each of us.

The view I had all morning to the east was stunning, but the view I now had to the east was possibly even better. Way down in the valley, Zemmgrund, I could see the Berliner Hutte at the confluence of 3 higher glaciated valleys which fanned out to the south at the top of Zemmgrund. These three glaciated valleys all lead up to glaciers on the north side of the main Zillertal ridge. The glaciers spread out so much as they approached the ridge they just about merged with each other at the apex. If this was not enough there was another of the enormous crenellated side ridges on the opposite side of the Zemmgrund valley and it too was covered in glaciers. It looked very similar to the one I was standing on. I could just figure out the chink in its ramparts where I would climb over it tomorrow. And all this under a perfect blue sky with just the odd cloud now. I must say the Zillertal range is delivering well above expectations. 

The descent was nice. There was a small steeper section near the top which has some superfluous cables beside it. It led down to a large shallow bowl which was full of smaller boulders, however the path through these boulders was easy and it was shallow as it followed easy sweeping curves down past very small tarns and rivulets. The landscape was quite barren here and were it not for the trickles from the snowfields one might think it arid. However, the further I descended the more grassy it got. The trickles merged into small streams which spread out and flowed across the mountainside in wide shallow flows across small stones. At the side of the streams were moses and the white flashes of clumps of glacier buttercup. Still further down there was the clink of sheep bells, much higher pitch than their bovine counterparts, as a small herds of them grazed the hillside.

The path then got to a line of crags, like an escarpment at the bottom of which was Schwarzenzee, a deep blue grey lake with a fringe of light brown sandy shallows. I could see people sunbathing on one of the beaches but no one swimming. The path descended steeply to the lake and then followed its southern shore over moraine knolls. I was not tempted to stop and swim, as I had the bit between my teeth and could imagine the comforts which would be laid out before me soon. The excellent easy path continued down into the easternmost of the three glaciated valleys which met at the Berlinerhutte. A huge fan of bare light grey rock rose up from the green valley floor where I could see horses grazing. Above this band of smooth bare rock was the crescent of glacier descending from the peaks. Some 20 minutes later I was arriving at the very large and grand Berliner Hutte which was built by the Berlin Section of outdoor enthusiasts in 1888. Being the capital of Germany at the time, one would expect this Hutte to be the grandest. 

I went in the front door and was astounded by the reception area. A huge wooden staircase rose up two stories with the plush grandeur of an aristocratic palace. There was no about so I went into the dining room. It was magnificent and huge. 15 metres wide and maybe 40 long with a row of tall windows on the south side. Apart from the windows it was completely panelled in a pine with a beautiful golden hew. It was also very high, perhaps 6 metres and the panels went all the way up. To cap it all 4 large chandeliers hung from the ceiling. It could have been from a Hapsburg palace or the foyer of the grand opera hall in Vienna. It was empty as everyone was sitting in the sun outside. I had had enough sun so I sat alone in this huge sumptuous dining room and had a lunch of 3 different flavoured dumplings. 

After lunch I checked in at the reception in the grand entrance hall. The lady offered me a dormitory room for 20 euros or a single bed room for 25. I took the latter and found it in the extension, which I think was also 100 years old, up on the top floor. It was a compact bijou room with a single pine bed, a wooden washstand which could double as a desk and a wooden chair. The room was completely lined with rich golden pine which gave it a comforting wooden smell. It also had a powerpoint to charge gadgets. It also pleased me that I had a small south facing window to dry clothes by but when I looked through the window I was delighted to see it looked right up the glacier to the peaks on the main Zillertal ridge. Some would find it frugal but it was perfect for me. I went to the men’s washroom and discovered there was hot water so I washed as much as I could over the sink without getting naked and then washed my hiking clothes and hung them in my window.

By mid afternoon I was done so I went into the sumptuous dining room and started to write the blog. It was a superb setting and I felt quite privileged just to sit in a corner and type away. It remained quiet as it was still lovely weather outside and most people sat on the terrace. Bernard and Christian came down and we chatted a bit before they went out to sit in the sun. They were a witty pair and I enjoyed their easy company. Tim came along later and we discussed the fabulous day. We both ordered drinks and he settled down at the table and read while I typed. It was great having Tim there to explain that I was vegetarian and advise me on the menu. It seems most of the huts now would do 8 dishes with 4 meat, 3 vegetarian and vegan. Tim ordered the lentil stew which was vegan and it sounded good so I followed. It was good, as was the salad buffet with which I loaded my plate so much I was trying to hide it from the staff. After the meal Tim and I went out to join Christian and Bernard who were chatting with the hostess of the hut, a young German girl. We chatted until the higher peaks glowed slightly orange with a soft alpenglow and the temperature dropped. The Zillertal and the weather were combining to make this a great section, but having the company of Tim and the Christian/Bernard team doing the same stages was the icing on the cake for me. Especially as they sacrificed their own easy going conservation in German to switch to English when I was around.

Day 41. Berlinerhütte to Furtschaglhaus. 8 Km. 5.5 Hrs. 1090 m up. 890m down. I slept very well in the cosy room in my old cot style pine bed. When I got down for breakfast at about 0700 I was delighted to see it was a buffet. There were huge bowls of oaty cereals, yoghurts and fruit salad to layer up in my pudding bowl, and then nutty homemade bread with butter from a local alm, cheeses and jams, and good coffee. Tim joined me soon afterwards and then Bernard and Christian joined us, with Christian already in fine form with his jokes and perceptions. Even though it was just 0700 and we were over 2000 metres there were many people having breakfast outside on the terrace, which was just being blessed with the first sun. We chose the magnificent dining room. 

After breakfast it was time to part company. Bernard and Christian were heading down to Mayrhofen and the end of their hike while Tim and Myself would continue on to Furtschaglhaus over another one of Zillertals side ridges, where there was a weak spot in the otherwise inaccessible ramparts. It was sad to see Bernard and Christian go. I think I could have hiked to Monaco with them. As I left a couple of farmers were herding up a flock of sheep so they could graze the high alpine pastures. One was sick and a farmer was carrying it up over his shoulders. 

I crossed the bridge over one of the 3 glacial streams which met here and ran straight into 3 piglets who were marauding through the boulders and shrubs. They made a beeline for me and one was trying to eat a walking pole. Distracted by the piglets I missed the turning and by the time I realised I had to cut across 200 metres of shrubby boulder-strewn moraine to get to the right path and a bridge over the second of the 3 glacial streams. The marked path now contoured around the boulder-strewn hillside where small willows and dwarf alders were thriving, to reach the third bridge. All 3 bridges were two wooden beams bolted together, with one end tethered with wire to the rock so in a violent torrent they would swing parallel to the flow and could hopefully be manhandled into place again by 5 men. 

Once over the third bridge the path traversed up the end of the lateral moraine to gain its crest, which the path followed up. On one side was a small valley between the moraine ridge and the mountainside. On large glaciers, especially in the Himalayas, this valley can be a magical place with a narrow grassy meadow. On the otherside was a gaping hole left by the retreated glacier, which would have filled this void perhaps as little as 200 years ago. On the far side of this void across the boulder strewn depression was the other lateral moraine. The sides of the moraine facing each other are usually steep inhospitable places full of boulders embedded in gravel which tumble out sometimes in heavy rains.

After half an hour the crest of the lateral moraine came to an end in crags and the path climbed up onto the mountainside of pleasant turf and boulders and covered in flowers. It was a lovely climb up reasonably gentle zig-zags for a hour. The latter part of the climb was beneath a face of steep cliffs which formed part of the east ridge of Schonbichler Horn, 3134m, the mountain the path was aiming for. As I climbed under this face an eagle soared over the top of the cliffs and then found a thermal and started to circle in it climbing steeply with the skill which would make most paragliders envious. It rose so steeply it quickly reached cloudbase, which was at the highest peaks of 3400m and then used the height to soar off to the west and out of sight.

Just when I was expecting to continue up the grassy slopes beneath the cliffs the path doubled back and went up a rake, or sloping shelf, along a fault line to the top of the cliffs. It was between a metre and 3 metres wide as it steeply sloped up and after 10 minutes had reached the flatter crest of the ridge. This climb up the rake was protected by cables. Once on the crest of the main ridge it was an easy walk all the way up across boulders which had been manhandled into a path. To my south were the pretty much a continuous series of glaciers which started at the main Zillertal ridge and then flowed down for at least a kilometre, with many areas of large crevasses, and even small icefalls until then thinned out into snouts of grey ice, smeared over the smooth rock plates far below me. The glacier adjacent to the ridge I was going up was called Waxeggkies. It was very impressive especially with the backdrop of the 3400m peaks behind it which were clear again. The path continued up the ridge all the way to the bottom of a shattered arete, which was reasonably steep but quite wide. 

I could see people coming down the arete using the cables. It was much easier going up facing the mountain and I seldom used the cables to haul myself up. The way the mountain had exfoliated the slabs on its surface here meant there were many metre high pillars of rock fragments sticking out from the ridge. It was if I was a small beetle crawling up the back of a hedgehog and if you slipped it would not be for long. It only took 15 odd minutes to climb this arete and reach the pass, called Schonblichersharte, at about 3100m. The view here was stunning but I knew it was only a few minutes to Schonblicher Horn summit, 3134m where the view would be even better. I clambered up quickly and met a couple having their picnic on top.

The view was indeed spectacular with a number of dark threatening peaks to the south with the glaciated peak of Grosser Moseler over topping them all. Behind me was the Berliner Hutte in the valley of Zemmgrund and in front of me was the Furtschaglhaus cabin in the valley of Schlegeisgrund. Beyond this valley was yet another side ridge descending from the main Zillertal ridge which at that point was crowned by Hochfeiler, 3509m, and the highest point in the whole area. There was a crescent of large glaciers between me and Hochfeiler some 5 kilometres away. The other two went and I lingered here for another 15 minutes enthralled by the alpine setting. 

Eventually it was time to bide goodbye and start the long descent to the cabin. The descent was steep for perhaps 10 minutes down a gully of fractured stone embedded in soil and small shards of rock. It was easy to walk down unaided but there were cables here too, which would be essential if icy or maybe even wet and slippery. It soon led to a boulderfield where a path had been created by moving and aligning boulders. It was an easy walk initially and then it zig-zagged down a well worn grove on steeped ridges before more level sections. Although half the sky was covered in clouds it was warm and even hot where the sun shone through a gap. I passed a herd of brown sheep who were flaked out panting on a rock slab. They were so drowsy they just watched me saunter by 5 paces away, and just continued to pant.  In another half hour, and well over an hour from the pass, I was approaching the hut which lay near enough at the confluence of two glaciated valleys, each draining a fan of glaciers above them. It was as spectacular a location as the memorable Berliner Hutte. 

The hut was quite quiet and I was welcomed by a crew of young girls all of whom spoke good English. They had space in an 8 person room with 4 bunk beds. I was first so I took the lower one beside the window. I then had a cheese gnocchi dish and chatted to a German couple who had just been up Grosser Moseler and were now enjoying their victory beer. I then wrote for a couple of hours while the hut filled up and became very busy. 3 Americans took the other 3 lower beds in my room. They were going to spend the next 3 days walking the same path I had to Kasselerhutte, but in the other direction. In the course of the afternoon a few more climbers came down from the peaks, and many hikers and a few climbers came up from the valley. I was glad I already had an assured bed space by the window. 

I had spoken to 3 German women on the way up and they now arrived and joined me and then Tim arrived after enjoying pauses on the way up and down. One of the German ladies worked in Brussels for the European Union as an advisor from the Green party on food politics. When the meal came she was the only one who had meat, with the other four of us having the vegan lentil and rice curry. They were also a very well educated and bright bunch and easy to talk to as they made great effort to speak in English for me. After supper I went over to the Americans as I was sure it would be interesting to chat to them. After a few minutes I wished I was back with the bright Germans, as the Americans started to mumble about their previous jobs and life in Utah. At one stage they spent about 20 minutes trying to convince me why the “fifth wheel” was preferable to the “bumper hook” for towing RV trailers. I was saved by the weather forecast which said there would be rain and lightning from midday onwards tomorrow. This sent the Americans scrambling for an early night to get an dawn start tomorrow so they were not hanging onto the steel cables when the lightning arrived. The rest of the post dinner hikes and climbers followed soon afterwards.

Day 42. Furtschaglhaus to Olpererhutte. 10 Km. 3.5 Hrs. 620 m up. 560m down. It was a quiet night until 0200 when I was woken by a tremendous flash and then a crack of thunder which came straight through the open window. For the next half hour there was a lively thunderstorm with a flash of lightning at least every minute. Then I heard heavy rain blasting down outside but before long I went back to sleep. I heard the alarm clock of one of the Americans at 0500 but nothing more and I was surprised how quiet, organised and considerate they were. When I got up at 0700 it was overcast with plenty of blue sky. The Americans were hoping to get up and over the pass I came over yesterday by midday when more thunderstorms were predicted. Tim and I were the last down for breakfast. It was an OK breakfast but being a buffet made up for the small choice. I was packed and ready to go by 0800 so went off to find Tim, who was relaxing on the terrace with a coffee savouring the grandeur. He would be heading back to Munich this afternoon so it was his last breath of mountain air. It had been great travelling with him for the last 4 days. He was calm, kind and compassionate and very easy going company and being a vegan I felt we were part of the same church. I hope our paths cross again. 

The descent down from the hut was on an easy paved path where many of the stones had been laid to form rustic steps. Here and there iron rods were drilled through the stones to keep them in place and sometimes these had worked loose and protruded 10-15 cm. It would have been easy to trip on one or worse still get a lace loop over one. As I descended towards the valley floor the skies started to cloud over a bit more but surprisingly Hochfeiler, the highest point in the Zillertal, remained under blue sky. After a short hour I finally reached the valley floor where there was a track and after 4 days a mobile phone signal which inundated my email with spam to delete. 

The walk down the damned Schlegeisspeicher lake was perhaps 5 km and it was a very easy saunter. The lake was low so there was a contour mark of bare washed boulders, some 15 metres high, right round the lake which made it look very unnatural despite the small trees which surrounded it at the top end, as it was just at the treeline. The further down the lake I walked the bigger the trees got despite being the same height and this was just due to being further from the glacier and its chilling effects. At the end of the lake just before the large crescent shaped dam was a huge parking place and a couple of closed cafes. At one there were tables and benches so I spread the map out to look at the options, conscious of the mist forming in the valley and the totally overcast skies now. Rain was forecast for midday, in an hour and a half’s time, and it looked prompt. I decided against going to Geraer Hutte which would take another 4-5 hours and inevitably mean a soaking and probable lightening at the 3000m pass, which was 1200 metres above me. So instead I opted for the 600 metre climb to Olpererhutte which I could make before the weather broke. 

I was surprised at how busy it was here on this Monday morning with a poor forecast. There seemed to be a lot of Czech’s about so perhaps there was a holiday there. The climb up started from just after the parking place, but before the dam. There were many people coming down with small day packs and all were again Czech. Beside the path various tall plants with a similar inflorescence were thriving, including the Alpine blue-sow-thistle,Cicerbita alpina, and what the Germans call Grauer Alpendost, Adenostyles alliariae, for which I can’t find an English name. I saw a bullfinch in the bushes and I am sure it was hunting for insects as it was in alder and darting about. It surprised me as I thought they were seed eaters exclusively. Soon I caught some people going slowly up to the hut labouring under big rucksacks. I was conscious of the imminent rain and overtook them with huge strides unburdened with my 8-9 kg rucksack. The path went up the west side of a stream, and on the other side I could see a large copse of Arolla Pine going up the mountainside to about 2100m when the altitude got the better of them and they started to peter out.  Once I got to the top of the treeline sporadic raindrops started to fall, spreading out on the porous stone. I quickened my pace rather than put a jacket on. I overtook more and more people all of who seemed to be heading to Olpererhutte. Alarmingly there was also a string of people in front of me heading up. Soon the hut appeared perched on a prow in a shallow bowl of turf and boulders. Beyond it was the high mountain of Olperer, 3476m, the highest point in the Tuxer Alps. It was, however, lost in the cloud but I had seen it this morning. The rain drops continued to be light enough so my shirt did not get wet and for the last 10 minutes I surged up the track with my legs pumping and chest heaving. I just made it before the heavens opened at exactly midday. 

The only trouble was the hut was completely full. I was not going back and I was not going on so I dumped my stuff in the drying room and then went into the main dining hall of the relatively new and charmless hut. The staff said they should know by 1800 if there were any cancellations or not and if there were they could assign me a bed then. In the dining room I sat at a table which by coincidence had 3 Americans at it. I ate a dumpling dish then chatted with them as the dining room emptied and many day trippers headed out into the downpour to go back to their cars. The 3 Americans then all went off for a siesta so I got my keyboard out and started typing, swatting off the staff who occasionally pestered me to have a drink. The two young Belgium brothers with the huge rucksacks arrived as I typed. They were wet but still full of energy. They were brothers with one 19 and the other 16. They had been doing the same route as me in the Zillertal over the high passes, but camped every night. I have to applaud them for their tenacity.  After a few hours the rain stopped and the mountains of the Zillertal range to the south started to emerge from the mist. 

The 3 Americans also emerged again from their siesta and joined me at a table with a great view overlooking Grosser Moseler and Hochfeiler and the west end of the impressive Zillertal range. The 3 of them were doing the 7-8 day Zillertal Runde anti clockwise. I soon realised I was in the company of some rather special Americans. All three were professors in the social sciences, but were well versed on any topic from Alpine flowers to property development. It was a joy to listen to their eloquent and articulate thoughts all punctuated with lovely metaphors and witticisms. They more than made up for the pragmatic, but ultimately dull, Americans last night. I learnt more from them about the impasse and stalemate of American politics in two hours, than I could have done from reading considered and thoughtful newspaper articles for a month. It was a stream of high IQ consciousness, humour and intellectual fun. I could have listened to them all night but after the meal everybody seemed to go to bed early at about 2030. As I had no booking I was eventually shown a bed in the winter room. There were 4 free top bunks in a room of 8, with 4 Czechs already on the bottom. I noticed there was a small secluded dining area with a large table in another part of the cabin so I dragged a mattress out and put it on the table. The table top had an unblemished view across the valley to the Zillertal range. 

Day 43. Olperer Hutte to Steinach. 28 Km. 9 Hrs. 980 m up. 2300m down. I had a great sleep on the table with the most amazing view as soon as I opened my eyes through the window to the main Zillertal ridge in the clear morning light. I was the first at breakfast at 0630 and the 3 witty, eloquent professors joined soon afterwards. We were all aware of the weather forecast and wanted to be at our destination or indoors when heavy rain was expected at midday. I was disappointed to see the Americans go but not so much to see the back of Olperer Hutte. It was modern and quite charmless, busy with people just coming up for the night, and a large, but well behaved, school group which made the whole place feel like a youth hostel rather than an alpine hut. Perhaps the defining disappointment was the hut warden who seemed to be here just to run a business and maximise the profit, and her team of girls who were like surly teenagers with a shoulder shrug and “I dunno” to every question. They were all the same early 20’s age as the staff from Berliner and Furtschaglshaus, who were by contrast very welcoming and enthusiastic. 

Today’s route was over a pass and then down a valley to the Brenner Pass, a major and historic thoroughfare through the Alps and the geographical dividing line between the Eastern and Central Alps. Already an hour after getting up in perfect weather some low cloud was starting to form over the main 3000+ metre tops and the odd bubble of mist was starting to billow up in the valley below. I set off and contoured south around the bowl in which the Olperer Hutte was sited on a good path through boulders and turf. Small clear streams came splashing down the hillside from Schrammerkopf, a prow on the south ridge of Olperer, 3478m, the highest point in the Tuxer Alps. The path continued south over a small ridge and then veered west dropping down a good 100 metres to reach a wild bowl called Unterschrammerkar, which was blessed with a couple of small tarns. Here the small path I was to take over Alpinscharte left the main path, which continued to the popular Pfitscherjoch, a pass over to Italy.  

By now the low cloud had obscured all the tops and the mist coming up the valley was enveloping everything below me. I fully expected the two to meet soon and plunge me into a bubble of grey dull light. The path was small and faint but it was well marked with red paint marks on boulders. I had to climb about 700 metres in all from the bottom of the bowl to the Alpinerscharte, so I measured my pace. There was quite a steep gully filled with snow which extended right down the mountain but the snow was soft and there was not enough incline to slip uncontrollably down it so I gingerly walked over it without getting my ice axe out. About half way up the path had to cross another ravine but this one had had a recent flooding event which had washed all the stone from it leaving fractured bare rock to negotiate for 15 metres. Someone had protected it with climbing rope anchored at each end with belay fixings drilled into the rock. It was not necessary now but in icy conditions or when the rivulet was a torrent it would have been essential. Once over this hazard the path veered to the west again and climbed the rocks and boulders in comfortable zig-zags all the way to the pass. The mist had completely enveloped me now and I was in a world of my own thinking this must be a seldom used path when a couple appeared like two yetis from the mist. I chatted with them and they said how nice Geraerhutte where they stayed was. Some 15 minutes later I was lost in my thoughts again when another couple appeared out of the mist like an apparition and I stopped again for a chat. As I neared the top the light got brighter and I hoped that it was just here, where the moist air was rising in the easterly breeze, which was misty. Right enough when I reached the Alpinerscharte, 2959m, 30 seconds later there was a clear view all the way down to the Valsertal valley on the west side and the Geraer Hutte was clearly visible just down the slope, some 500 metres below me.

The descent to the cabin was initially a bit steep and the path hugged the boulders, gravel and mud at the bottom to the cliffs on the north side of the couloir. There were some cables here and there but again they were unnecessary in these clement conditions. After half an hour I got to some old mine workings. The buildings had all been removed but the rusting twisted cable way was still there, visually polluting the cirque. On the south side of this cirque were the formidable walls and peaks above a nearly vanished glacier which led up to the mountain of Schrammer, 3410m. I could see the air to the west above the upper Valsertal valley become opaque and knew it was the expected rain. I rushed down the path with large strides in my shorts and shirt and just made it to the front door of the hut before the heavens opened. By the time I had removed my rucksack and gone into the dining room it was pouring. 

The hut was indeed lovely inside. It was very cosy with the various nooks and crannies of the dining room reminding me of atmospheric snugs in a rural Irish pub. There was lots of historic paraphernalia adorning the old cabinets and sideboards and a selection of schnapps and grappas in old decanters left trustingly on one sideboard. Had the weather been good yesterday afternoon it would have been an obvious choice to come to this homely lodge instead of cutting the day short at the greedy and grumpy Olperer Hutte. The middle aged couple running the place were local and very helpful with advice of where to stay in St Judok saying there were only private options and that the shop had burnt down. I would be better going another 4 km to Steinach, a small town. I had soup, looked at some books and then realised that the rain was less intense and soon a light drizzle so prepared to set off again after 2 hours.

The journey down to the valley was relatively easy on the zig-zags of the good path. I met a few Dutch groups coming up all of who were independently doing the Peter Habeler Round hike of 4-6 days. The vegetation was dripping wet after the rain and the tall grasses and flowers beside the track were brushing my legs and soaking them. I passed a high alm with the smell of cattle, but none in sight and then plunged into the forest for the second half of the descent which delivered me to the valley floor, which was choked by boulders and gravel brought down by the stream. Once on the valley floor, in the improving weather with many patches of sun, it was a very easy stroll down an excellent track for 3 kilometres past cows, old wooden summer barns and meadows to reach the Touristenrast hutte at the end of the tarmac road. I stopped here for another soup to see me through the next 12km. It was all along good tracks and paths with little uphill so I knew it would only be 3 hours at the most. 

The sun was back out when I set off again strolling with long easy strides down the very quiet road. Each side of the flat lush valley was full of meadows and small barns. Occasionally there would be a farm or two and then more meadows. The going was so easy and quick I missed the turnoff after 2km to a track on the south side of the stream and had to continue down the empty tarmac road for another km until there was another foot bridge over the growing stream, which would be impossible to cross otherwise. Once on the south side of the stream it was a delight to walk along the forest track. Cows grazed each side of the track in the meadows and neat stacks of firewood were piled up in the forest sections. Occasionally there was an isolated farm and even a small hamlet on this side of the valley but on the other side were the larger hamlets and small village of Vals. The farms here were all house and barn under one enormous roof with a manure heap at the cattle end and balconies dripping with geraniums at the house end. It seemed like nearly every old farm, and certainly every hamlet had its own very small miniature chapel. Occasionally the path vanished across a meadow but it was easy to see where it appeared again a few hundred metres further on and make for it. After 5 km of this easy cultural track the path unexpectedly reached a busy railway line with large lorries on wagons being pulled up and down the Brenner Pass. I went through an underpass and reached the small town of St Judok. 

I dare say I could have found accommodation here but there was no shop and little else. I was 4 days ahead of schedule and my booked accommodation and needed to take a couple of days off so Steinach seemed the better option. Hence I continued through St Judok to pass under the railway line again, which had made a big loop around the town. I now found the track to the east of the railway line and followed it for 2-3 km through forest and meadow to reach the southernmost houses of Steinach. For much of this walk I passed above some very ugly heavy industry factories far below on the valley floor, notably a heavy steel works and a cement plant which looked very out of place. I don’t know how they can compete with similar plants on the industrial plains below, but perhaps they are subsidised to keep some employment at Steinach. Just before reaching Steinach I passed a young Czech walking in sandals at tremendous pace. We stopped and chatted for a few minutes. He was walking to Rome on what he called the Via Roma for 2 months. 

Steinach was a bit of a dissapointment really. There were lots of newer blocks of housing 3-4 stories high which looked quite perfunctory and perhaps housed the families who worked at the industrial plants I had seen. As I approached the drawn out centre of the town there seemed to be very little charm and I only found two hotels and neither of these were quaint or cheap. I took the cheaper, the Wildermann, as it had a worn out room but at least with a balcony. It was after 2000 by the time I went down for a bowl of garlic spaghetti and a topfenstrudel and when I returned to my room I was just ready to sleep. 

Steinach. 2 Rest Days. 0 Km. 0 Hrs. 0m up. 0m down. I was well behind with both the blog and other office paperwork. I was also 4 days ahead of my schedule and the various hut bookings I had made. In the mountain cabins it did not matter too much, but as I leave Austria for Italy it will matter a bit more, and then it will matter significantly when I get into Switzerland during the height of the holiday period in late July. So it seemed a no-brainer to spend a couple of days in Steinach catching up with digital duties and reducing my spare days from 4 to 2. 

Having checked into the Wildermann Hotel the previous evening and gone straight to bed after dinner I still had to do all my office chores and other jobs. The first thing was to have a good scrub in the shower and wash my growing bag of laundry. It all took an hour before I was transformed from a stinking feral to a pampered metrosexual smelling of soap. All my washing was hanging up on the balcony in the warm breeze, leaving me with very little to wear other than my waterproofs, until it dried.

I then sat at the desk in the room occasionally distracted to see how the clothes were drying for the next 6 hours. By that time my eyes were tired and red as if I had myxomatosis. However, I had broken the back of the list of things I needed to do so went for a wander in town. I realised that I had been a bit harsh in my initial assessment of Steinach. While it did lack the cuckoo clock charm of a touristy Alpine Resort it did have some honesty. Yes there were some dainty cafes and a bakery, but there was also a hardware store, a tobacconist, an old folks home, a few shops selling cheap clothing from China, and a busy astro turf football field. The industries in the Wipptal valley here kept people down to earth, and there were folk chatting on all street corners as they bumped into each other. It was a friendly town. 

I wandered up the main street on the west of the river and then looped back down the quiet road on the east of the river where there was the small train and bus station. There was a small supermarket at the north end of the town and another at the south end. Here and there were large farms which the town had encroached onto and they still smell of manure, holding out against the urban spread. On the way back I went into the large church with its twin towers. I think the church could have sat at least 400 people on its pews. I returned to the hotel two hours later with my eyes rested and did a bit more work before supper and an early bed. 

The second day off was pretty much a repeat of the first except I finished everything I needed to do by early afternoon. I then treated myself to a siesta as the rain had come on outside. By mid afternoon it had cleared up so I sauntered round town with a relaxed swagger knowing there was nothing I had to do. I was completely free of obligation. I could not spend another day here without a purpose, otherwise I would get bored, but I relished the opportunity to relax on this lazy afternoon. 

My next section would be a 4-5 day hike through the Stubai Alps. I had been hiking here before, but my route now was slightly different and involved crossing a glacier and dropping down the south side of it into Italy which I was looking forward to. I had really enjoyed my 6 day hike through the Zillertal. It was exactly the alpine tonic I was looking for after the tame bypass of the Hohe Tauern. During my hike through the Zillertal I was blessed with mostly good weather, full-hearted walks in fantastic scenery and with good company in Tim, Christian and Bernard, and not least the 3 American professors.  

 

Section 05.  78 km. 36 Hours. 6360m up. 6370m down.

Section 05.  Zillertal. 30 June to 07 July 2022.

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