Hiking Log: Drama in the Austrian Alps

As my iPhone wallpaper I have a small vision board for my year. Every time I pick up my phone, which is a lot if we're being honest here, I see it. Top right corner has a photo of me in full hiking gear with the text "type 2 fun in nature".

I might have manifested that a little too hard this holiday. To the point where we changed the saying to "type NO fun". If schadenfreude is your thing, you'll enjoy this recap. Let's go!

The plan

Tom and I set out to do part of the Inntaler Höhenweg, in Austria, close to Innsbruck. It's a "hut to hut" hike, which we are doing for the third year; second time in Austria. The huts have basic sleeping arrangements, usually dorms, but serves delicious three course dinners and are nestled in the mountain with incredible views.

On Sunday we checked into our hotel in Zell am Ziller, where we did our last minute snack shopping and repacked our bags.

Ready to hike. 

Day 1: Patscherkofel to Glungezerhütte

For once we decided to make the first day a chill one, and we took the gondola up the mountain. To nobody’s surprise it started raining the second I started my Garmin activity. “It wouldn’t be a Tom and Sanna hike if it wasn’t raining,” I said, cheerful, because I had little idea of what this trail would put me through.

Ah, to be young and naive.

The rain was unlikely to stop, so we found shelter under a big rock where we had our lunch. Fresh bread, cheese and salami. Topped it off with my favorite hiking snack Hanuta. "Type 2 fun," we joked.

It was still funny then. 🙃

After that we barely took a break.

The rain was relentless and we pushed through, 3 hours later we had hiked 7.81 km, up 755m, and arrived at Glungezerhütte. Wet to the bone. Hot chocolate spiked with rum was well-earned, but it took hours for me to stop shivering.

Glungezerhütte was very cozy, but note that if you sleep in the outside room, going to the bathroom at night means a two minute walk with stairs both outside and inside, which was not my favorite experience. They also lack showers. Food and staff are lovely though and we met a bunch of people doing the same route, which made the hike much more social than others.

Day 2: Glungezerhütte to Lizumer Hütte

We knew this day would be on the tougher side. Expert level hike, Komoot and AllTrails warned us.

After dinner the host had stopped by to brief us. Seven peaks, up and down, where you need to be sure on your feet. Rain was expected, but likely after 1pm. "Make sure you're past the last peak before then," he said. The alpine route was treacherous. We nodded and thought to ourselves, how bad can it be? We're both pretty sure on our feet and love rough trails, so while a lot of people woke up at 5am, we took it easy and left close to 7.30 in the morning. Komoot estimated almost 6 hours for the 14.6km long trail, add a few breaks and we should be safe.

And maybe that would have been the case, had I not been a little too cocky in my skipping climbing steps.

"Mountain parkour!" I said, hopping from rock to rock. Until I suddenly felt my right foot slip and fell head first into stone.

When I say head first I mean it in the most literal sense. My forehead had most of my weight behind it as it crashed into the boulder. The pain was sharp, head, neck, spine. I sat down, shocked, and begun to assess the damage. Concussion? Blood? We were only one hour in, and I had no desire to turn back. But the next hut was a long hike away.

Luckily, it was chilly outside – I had just put on a hiking buff and folded it twice to protect my ears, which happened to protect my head as well. An American pancake sized bump quickly took shape under my bangs, but the skin was intact. Tom managed to find ice and we put it in a ziplock bag, pressing on my head.

I looked left and right, trying to feel if I had a concussion. No dizziness, no nausea, so far. Pain at the place of impact, as well as neck and spine, but nothing I couldn't manage. Although, I practice aerial and my sense of what is reasonable pain might not be entirely accurate.

We were faced with a dilemma. Ahead of us was hours on a ridge of slippery boulders, with steep slopes on both sides. Rain was expected and could come any time. The next hut was 12 km away. Do we turn back or keep going?

We decided to keep going.

Slowly we made our way up and down the peaks. Focused. At times, the fog limited our visibility to only a few meters. The wind was picking up and dark clouds were ominously getting closer.

It's difficult to capture just how steep and dangerous some sections were. There were several via ferratas where our grip of a thin metal rope was the only thing allowing us to get to the next point, because it barely had any place for our feet to step on. Excuse my dramatic tone, but a fall here would most likely ended in death. This trail required complete presence. We also had the added time pressure of incoming rain, that would make the route more dangerous.

We kept pushing with few breaks.

We barely saw a soul, but a Dutch couple had been hiking behind us and the last bit they caught up. Chocolate and war stories from the day were shared as we walked together. We kept thinking we were almost there, and it kept being longer.

We saw a sign saying "Lizumer Hütte: 2 hours", walked another hour only to see yet another sign saying "Lizumer Hütte: 2 hours" again.

I wondered if we were being pranked.

We did get a little comfort at the end; marmots! They are usually cautious of humans but this little family was not. Our conclusion was that they are probably deaf. The trail went through a military training area and had regular target practices (hopefully not aimed a fluffy animals).

18.05, just in time for dinner, we arrived. Strava clocked us in at 10 hours and 39 minutes. Almost 17 km. I wished for nothing else than at spiked hot chocolate (the only hot alcoholic beverage they offer). but the machine was broken. We had our dinner, took a shower, and crashed into bed. Too tense to feel relaxed, but relieved we made it through the day without any signs of a concussion.

Day 3: Lizumer Hütte to Weidener Hütte

Managed to get some sleep, despite the enthusiastic snoring from two strangers in our room. Not exactly rested, but at least my neck pain was not getting worse.

We had a proper breakfast, geared up with our rain protection and set off shortly after 8am. It was not raining exactly the whole time, but even when it wasn't, the air was so moist it might as well. This profile of this route was first half climbing up, then all the way down.

I'll be honest, this was a dreadful day. The trail was busy, and offered few secluded spots to pee. As an added perk on my list of miseries, I'd also just gotten my period. You can imagine that having PMS-mood, cramps, and needing to pee, did not make for a delightful time.

What I love about hiking is, in large part, the not-hiking. When you pause, sit in the grass and take in the views. Have a coffee, a few bites of pistachio chocolate. Maybe read for half an hour. Soak it in.

The only thing being soaked on this hike was us, in the rain, like two sponges wobbling around the Austrian mountains. Middle-aged, with knee pain.

Type no fun.

We pressed on without eating our lunch. At one point our energy levels were getting so low we had to stop for a snack break. I had not even laid out my jacket to sit on before the rain increased. I sat down anyway and and had a Hanuta. Cursing this fucking trail.

After 5 hours and 23 minutes we arrived at our next hut. It was only 2pm, so we checked in and sat down in the restaurant where I ordered my favorite hiking food: Kaiserschmarrn! This one was fluffy and dense, exactly what I needed. As well as a Hugo, of course.

"If there's any prediction of rain tomorrow I'm not going," I told Tom. I was over it. Fuck nature, give me a shower that lasts more than three minutes and a proper cocktail served in sunshine.

Next days route would be an alpine one like our second day, two kilometers shorter, but more elevation gain. The weather predicted both rain and sun. That, my friends, was not a gamble I was willing to take. I was tired to my core and our dorm was filling up with men aged 60 and up, which, in my experience, means an orchestra of snoring and no sleep for me. We decided to cancel our next hut and walk down a day earlier.

In the evening we shared a bottle of wine with the Dutch couple, and ended the evening playing cards with our new trail buddies, relaxed knowing by this tomorrow, we would be in an actual hotel room.

Day 4: Back to civilization

I sat down at the breakfast table and the people stared at me. "Ehm, you have some marks on your face," one of my new friends said. I took up my phone as reflection.

A matching set of black eyes stared back at me. Charming. My left eyeball I was also getting bloody. It appeared that the bump on my forehead was now traveling down my face, shapeshifting along the way. Tom consulted with his doctor brothers.

"It's normal, will pass in a few days," one said.

"This is a great time to get into Berghain,", said the other.

It's now been a week and it's gotten a lot worse, but it seems to be turning around now. I won't scare you with a photo, but if you want a jump scare, let me know and I'll share.

After we packed up, we walked a couple of hours down to the bus stop and in the afternoon we arrived at the luxury spa hotel we had booked in Zell am Ziller.

The aftermath

This was bliss after the four days of rain and misery we had. Had the weather been a little bit better, I would have loved it. Maybe we'll go back one day.

But we got a bit more mountain time the day after we got back. The weather was of course amazing by then, and we went for a drive and another short hike. The alps truly has the most amazing scenery.

If you read this far, I'm impressed. If you have any recommendations for hikes in Europe next year, I'm all ears!