Stubai Hut To Hut - Austrian Alps

This hiking trip was possible because I was in Rome already, rendezvousing with family members, to see Pompeii and the Amalfi Coast.  That trip was interesting, but it left me tired and hot.  While everyone else was returning home, I boarded the train for Innsbruck.  After an arduous journey, including two changes of train, I finally arrived in Innsbruck after dark, and in the rain.

I had booked a place at a hotel/hostel, which claimed to be close to the train station.   Actually it was a twenty minute walk.  And I was unsure of how to get there, so it actually took me more like an hour.  It was an ordeal, in the rain, and lugging my pack as well as my luggage. 

Finally I found the place, which was actually quite satisfactory, but I was beat and went right to sleep.

In the Stubai, there were a couple of places on the hut route that were similarly blocked, but with the help of the advisor, I picked out a portion that was likely passable. I would still need my crampons and axe, so I walked back to the hotel, retrieved my equipment, and went to the train station to wait for the bus.

The bus ride to the Stubai valley was scenic.  We passed through each of the little towns in the valley before getting to the trailhead, at the next to last stop. Near the beginning of the trail there was a big pile of hiking poles, by a sign that I could not decode. Apparently they are for hikers to borrow and return. The trail led steeply up the valley wall, beside a roaring cascade. The weather was sunny, but the ground was still wet from last night's rain.

In a little over an hour I came to a big meadow and Sulzaualm.

I don't know if the land is public or private, but there seem to be sheep and cattle in all the meadows, right up to the snow line.  Their bells produce a clanging that can be heard for great distances.  They are often interested in people, and came right up to me.

The alm offered a full menu of lunch food and drink, served in a rustic outdoor patio with rustic picnic tables. There were about 20 people enjoying the sunshine, the beer, and little sausages. I had a large Fanta, ate some of my lunch, and pushed on.

The whole fence was constructed with fanciful carved gnomes.   One of them served as the gate latch: you would grab its nose and swing it around to disengage the latch from its ear.i

Soon the sun came out again, and everyone emerged from the hut. Some played cards and admired the scenery, but two groups put on climbing equipment and started practicing mountaineering techniques. Part of this involved hanging by a rope from a frame, as if they had fallen into a crevasse. Each person had to use their equipment to get up their rope. Another group was practicing rope techniques for glacier walking. Apparently these groups were heading for Wilder Freiger, a prominent local mountaineering destination.

I decided to stay in the matrazenlager (dormitory) instead of an individual bedroom on this trip, just to see what it is like. Here and at all the other places, the sleeping arrangments were quite comfortable. In Sulzenauhutte, the lager is on the top floor. There was room for about 30 people, and only five occupants. Everyone was very quiet and respectful. I got to sleep right away and had a very restful night.

Sulzenauhutte is a convenient base camp for the high peaks such as Wilder Freiger.  Shortly beyond the hut the glacier starts.  It looks a little ominous, hanging threateningly above.

The trail climbed up and down over a series of side canyons, then headed up a moraine, past several charming lakes, toward a ridge and a very steep headwall. I stopped by the lakes briefly, but the threatening weather made me hurry along.

The trail offers two choices: one short and steep, and another longer and less steep.  I think the longer way also has a better view, but since I was in the rain by this time, and visibility was essentially zero, I opted for the short way. The ridge itself looked utterly impassible, but when I got there I discovered very nice switchbacks all the way to the top. At the pass there is a cross and a bench. I did not stop to rest, but hurried on down the other side. The descent was amazing: unimaginably steep, with cables most of the way. From the bench at the top, the hut is almost straight down -- all you can see is the roof.

This time I got a lager room that housed 10, but no one else was in it. I even had a bathroom pretty much all to myself. The hut was run by a couple who had two young children, who were very well behaved. I chatted and compared notes with the English couple, who were headed the same way. They had hiked part of the other side of the valley, but had been warned about the ice, and so had descended and then gone up to Dresdner Hutte on the gondola lift. From there, there, they came to Sulzenauhutte. We were both a little concerned by the snow on tomorrow's route, but the hut log book showed people coming and going on that route, so that was good news.

I again got an early start: the time to the next hut was four hours away. The sky was clear, with clouds moving up and over the ridges now and then. The trail started by going up, then down into each canyon, and up again. Each stream was filled with rushing water, but each one has makeshift plank crossings.

The trail climbed higher and higher, with many sections of cable, as it approached the Simmingjochl Pass.

The trail crossed the first significant sections of snow, some of them very steep. I crossed these carefully with the aid of my axe. .

As the top of the ridge approached, the slope became less steep, but the clouds got closer and closer. Finally, at the top of the ridge, was a little stone building that looked like it served food and drink (but it was closed this day)

It was lunch time, so I rested, took pictures, and had a little to eat. I took a little side trail along the ridge to a small lake and the foot of a glacier. The glacier itself was much different from a typical snow field: much more like solid ice than compacted snow, and full of embedded rocks, gravel, and other debris. I did not seriously try to climb on it, but it looked very slippery. Everything around was scoured and raw looking. A huge section (50 feet high) of the end of the glacier had collpased into the lake, and there was a big flow of water beneath it. I was looking for the English couple to catch up with me, but there was no sign of them when I arrived back at the pass so I proceeded on.

The early morning light was magical.  The sky was completely clear, the winds calm.  A perfect day coming up.

The whole way is either steeply up, or steeply down, but the starting and ending elevations are about the same.

The trail starts with a choice: contour around the slope to Lauteresee (a lake), or descend below the lake and then climb back up to meet the trail. The route by Lauteresee is half an hour extra, but I wanted to see the lake. It turns out that most the route to the lake is on steep cliffs, with fixed cables. Still, the lake was worth a visit.

I continued along the trail, through grassy meadows where sheep were grazing. After two hours I passed a milestone, exactly on time. I felt good that I was finally getting into the rhythm, cruising along quickly and easily.

I was admiring the sheep, the views of the Italian border, and the crystal clear skies. As I was passing through a hanging meadow, I stepped on a rock which rolled out from under my foot, twisted around, and sprained my ankle. I heard a couple of loud pops coming from my left leg. With the aid of my ice axe, I was still able to kind of limp along at a very slow pace. I thought I better not stop -- it might stiffen up and get worse with time, so I should keep moving and try to get as far as possible. I knew there were people following me, althugh the English couple had decided to go back to Nurenberger Hut. The ankle was very painful, especially to twisting or bending, and had very little strength. But with the aid of my axe, I could move along slowly. Climbing was actually easier than descending, although there was plenty of both.

A few parties coming the other way passed by, and I kept expecting to be passed up by the parties behind me. Every time I stopped for even a few minutes, the ankle did not work as well, so I nibbled on snacks and kept on moving. at the rate I was progressing, I figured that I could cover the remaining four hours distance in eight hours. This would still get me in by six PM, well before dark and even in time for dinner.

This was Saturday night, and there were more people here than at the other huts. I was joined at my table by a party of local climbers, one of who knew some English. We had a little bit of conversation, but when I finished my dinner I want straight up to bed. I think they thought I was a bit unfriendly. I wish I could go back and visit with them some more.

The last task before leaving was to put on my boots. I loosened the laces as far as they would go, but the boot slipped on without a problem. Another step closer to home. Again, my progress was slow -- it took me four hours in all to get to Pinnisalm. But the people there were kind enough to call a taxi (which they call jeep), which was already on its way with some hikers. Because of this, I think I got a real bargain on my trip. It took me irectly to the bus stop in Neustift. I had to wait 90 minutes in the boiling sun, because it was Sunday and the busses ran only half as frequently as usual. I watched people arriving at the park across the road to sit in the sun on the grass, grill sausages on grils, and just enjoy the day. I could see para-gliders (?) descending from high up the ridge, at the top of a gondola lift. They seemed to be catching updrafts, because I saw the same person rise and descend several times. They seemed to stay aloft between 30 minutes and an hour, and finally descended to land in pastures nearby. When I saw one on the ground, folding up his parachute, I finally realized what those humongous "backpacks" were.