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Journal: |
There was a big thunderstorm last night and I was hoping that
some of the humidity might have eased for today's hike. I
enjoyed the large array of options at the self-serve breakfast
before leaving the hotel to start hiking just before 8:30am.
Although I knew I had a solid 1500m climb up to Kellerjoch Hutte
(2237m), the distance for the day wasn't great, so I wasn't feeling
any pressure. I could have easily spent another day at the
hotel in Schwaz, which met most of my criteria for a good place to
stay - not expensive, some English-language TV channels, on my
route, easy walking distance to a supermarket, and a good breakfast
- but I know I would have been bored by mid-morning.
As it
turned out, I was lucky not to be too late leaving. The climb
started immediately I left the hotel as I followed a walking path by
a stream up through the residential part of Schwaz. It was
overcast and humid and I felt a couple of spots of rain and stopped
to put on my pack cover, but the rain never arrived. The trail
marking hasn't been as good in the last day or so, and it was the
same today. I knew I had to climb the mountain behind Schwaz,
but what signs I found didn't relate very well to the names on my
map, so I just kept picking the most obvious route each time I
reached a decision point. I reached such a place after
kilometre and took an obvious-looking foot-track. Near its
start was some marking tape tied to a tree which may have one time
been across the track, but it looked a well-used path and I
proceeded. After a kilometre I began encountering some downed
trees which I managed to get around but as the path climbed more
steeply I encountered multiple trees down in a section which I could
not get around. Curses! Knowing that I still needed to
go higher, I then spent 30 minutes clambering higher and higher on a
slippery treed slope. It wasn't really dangerous, but I
slipped a few times and got some minor scrapes. Finally, I
reached a better path, but still encountered intersections that were
poorly sign-posted, and I was still guessing. I knew I was
making slow progress, but was pleased to finally get to an
intersection I could identify, which was confirmed by a farmer who
wandered over when he saw me consulting my map.
From there I
had a steep climb up a narrow track in the forest to a heath-covered
ridge. Did I mention the flies! It was as if there had
been a massive birth event overnight and all through the climb my
head was in a black cloud of flies which were also on my T-shirt and
in my hair. Some of them were March flies and by the end of
the day, I had many blood spatters on my legs and arms from squashed
biting flies. They made a slow and sweaty climb even less
pleasant. Just before the track emerged from the forest, I
found a spring and enjoyed drenching myself and getting a cold
drink. Once the trail reached the open ridge it then followed
it up towards a summit at Gratzenkopf (2087m). I went to look
at my map to confirm I had to go to the summit and discovered my
map-case, which I carry looped around my neck, wasn't there. I
had left it back at the spring! Double curses! There was
nothing for it but to go back, so I hid my pack behind a rock
outcrop and retraced my steps for about a kilometre, all downhill to
the spring. I hadn't seen any other walkers all day, so was
pretty sure it would still be there, and it was. I climbed
back up to my pack, having wasted about 40 minutes. Then I
climbed to the summit where I hoped there would be some wind and
relief from the flies while I had lunch, but there wasn't and I had
to stay on my feet and keep moving around to avoid the worst of
them. They weren't just on me. I could see them crawling
around on the ground and on the wooden cross on the summit.
In the distance I could see Kellerjoch Hutte, my next waypoint, and
the line of the track across the rock face I would need to follow to
get there. Firstly, I had to reach a saddle and a track
intersection where there were some signs lying on the ground.
As I started along the track I noticed some other hikers high above
me on a summit who seemed to be travelling from the Hutte to where I
had been. The track was easy going at first, but after a
couple of modest snow crossings, I reached a rocky cleft packed with
steeply sloping icy snow, with no evidence that anybody had crossed
the snow before. I gave it a few prods with my trekking poles,
which didn't fill me with confidence, and given the steepness of the
slope and distance I would slide before encountering big rocks, I
decided to look for a way around. That involved descending on
a slippery shale rock face and crossing under the snow and then
climbing back up, using hands and feet the whole way. Having
survived that, I was confronted with a second, even more
challenging, patch of snow which I tried to skirt on the top side,
squeezing between the bare rock and the snow edge, which was about
1.5 metres high and had moved about half a metre away from the rock.
This worked for a few metres, but then the space narrowed, it got
really dicey and I couldn't safely climb any further with my pack
on. I took it off and pushed it up the slope ahead of me,
wedged between the ice and rock, hoping that it wouldn't fall,
because recovery would not be easy. I then managed to climb up
past the pack through a narrow crevasse and just barely managed to
retrieve the pack from below me and push it up higher while sitting
on a flat sloping wet rock where sliding off seemed imminent.
Finally, I managed to get above the snow, adrenalin pumping.
It had taken 45 minutes to travel 50 metres and left me exhausted.
I walked the 200 metres remaining to the Hutte, where there was a
chain across the track entrance and a sign saying it was closed.
At the Hutte, the manageress said they had been watching me, and I
could see the people coming down from the summit were also watching,
so I guess a helicopter would have been called if deemed necessary.
Coincidentally, about five minutes after I left the Hutte and
helicopter did arrive and land on the summit below which I had
struggled.
There followed another ridge walk, with hazy views
up the Inn valley to Innsbruck and then a steep switch-backing
descent of about 600m vertical to Loasattel. The flies were
still really bad, I was still sweating profusely, and I just wanted
to be finished for the day. Easier walking followed as I
followed a gravel road along a contour towards Hochfugen, my goal
for the day, and I was cheered up by an encounter with an elderly
couple out picking wildflowers who wanted to know about my trip,
without speaking any English, and then complimented me on my German
after I had filled them in on the details. The route left the
gravel road and followed a well-marked foot track through a
heath-covered, with pink flowers (I'm botany-ignorant, sorry),
hillside that was very pretty before descending to the small
ski-village of Hochfugen. For the last 15 minutes, as I
descended, I became quite worried about whether I would find
accommodation because the place looked like a ghost town.
Fortunately, there was one hotel open (and about six shut) which had
a room. I was served dinner by a New Zealander who had married
a local many years ago, and we chatted a bit about what was ahead of
me and about NZ. She and her husband still do a lot of
mountain-biking on the Austrian trails.
After dinner I
enjoyed watching the European Athletics Championships (with German
commentary) on TV and hope that tomorrow will be less eventful (and
fly-ridden).
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