Hiking the Zugspitze.

As promised, I have come back to write on my blog. ;) 

In August, my dad and I took a trail that lead to the Zugspitze, the tallest mountain in Germany and of the Wetterstein Mountain Range (Northern Limestone Alps). Although I have hiked a lot in my life, the Zugspitze is the tallest mountain I have climbed to date at 9,718 ft. Not only did we climb the mountain, but we hiked for two days in pouring rain with semi-proper rain equipment, and endured the majority of the mountain covered in slippery snow. Needless to say, I purchased a postcard where I was able to see what the view “would” have looked like. Still, it was an amazing experience, which you can read more about below if you are interested.

A little map on the train showed various stops and a cute picture of the Zugspitze.

I would like to begin by saying that on our short, yet tiring two day trek, I did in fact bring a book of Henry David Thoreau’s Meditations called “A Light in the Woods” compiled and edited by Chris Highland. I thought this would be appropriate and maybe a little cliché read, however, I wasn't able to turn one page of the book due to the constant downpour and mist. I could barely open my eyes and see my dad ahead of me, thus the book stayed (safely?) tucked down deep in my drenched backpack.

My dad and I came to Germany equipped with flashy, new, light weight L.L. Bean backpacks, our hiking boots, light sleeping bags for easy carry, headlamps and various other backpacking supplies. We were READY. So we looked up the “hut” process in the Alps, met with a Croatian man on the military base about how to go about reserving a hut and quickly proceeded. We wanted to go hiking in August, however, little did we know that this was Germany’s high season for hut bookings, and thus we needed to reserve and wait a couple of weeks to book a night in the Reintalangerhütte in Wetterstein on August 31st. We looked up the weather upon booking and saw that there was a 100 percent chance of rain. Our attitude, however, was that the weather was never accurate and thus would obviously change to better conditions within two weeks. That was most definitely NOT the case.

We didn't really know what to expect from the whole hut experience, but it intrigued us in many ways. As much as we love camping and making food on the fire in the US, we were captivated by the idea of sleeping in a hut, meeting fellow hikers, having a hot German dinner with beer, and then waking up early to hot coffee and filling breakfast foods. I had read a couple of blogs from other hikers who complained about sleeping so close to others, but this wasn't really bothersome to either of us.  

Early on the day of our hike, my dad and I took the Bayern Pass on Deutsche Bahn to Garmisch Partenkirchen. When we got on the train in Ansbach (on a Sunday morning) there was a ship load of drunk teenagers getting back from partying (at around 6am) who were either slobbering on themselves asleep or continuing their partying on the train. This may have been entertaining for us if it weren't 6 in the morning and if we weren't carrying all of our backpacking supplies. I was about to take one of my hiking sticks and poke all of the noisy teenagers to make them stop like an old lady with a cane, but instead, I fell asleep.

Arriving in Garmisch, we got off the train and just kind of stared like zombies at the extreme rain. I went silent from tiredness and the dawning realization that we would be hiking for around 6 or more hours in a monsoon. I had done this before, but never voluntarily. My dad turned to me and said “are you sure you want to do this?” I pulled my strange, yellow rain hat out of my backpack, and secured my raincoat hood tight around my face, put on my black rimmed glasses to shield the rain and said a hearty “Well, we don’t have any other choice now, so I guess so!” We confusingly and tiredly looked around for a place to start, walked through the little city and eventually found our way to various starting points of the Zugspitze. We began our way through a beautiful gorge (the Partnachklamm) that was unexpected and breathtaking. It was hard to believe that people used the gorge in the 18th century to transport firewood from the Reintal Valley to Partenkirchen. Many tourists were walking through it with pointy umbrellas that kept hitting me in the face and old ladies hogged the railing, making me feel as if I could easily topple into the rushing river. We began to hope that hiking the Zugspitze was not some simple gimmick…however, when other tourists turned around after seeing the gorge, we continued on.

Walking through the resort town to get to the trail. The rain had stopped for about 20 minutes. 

The beautiful Partnachklamm.

The rain never stopped; however, this didn't seem to affect the beauty of the trek. As we got further and further into the woods, the smells changed, and thick fog moved away from incredibly ancient, jagged mountains. Sometimes, we just stopped and stared in silence, unable to actually mumble words. While walking up a hill, I noticed that part of my Merrill ankle boot began to tear. I had recently had them fixed in NH, however, the gaping hole gulped down water until my right foot was sloshing with each step. Incredibly uncomfortable, but we continued on, and for the rest of the two days, I forced myself to not think about it. We met two boys and their father along the trail, as they all ironically stopped to smoke their pipes. Little did we know, they would become buddies of ours in the Reintalangerhütte.

For a good third of our first day of hiking, we walked on what seemed to be a five to ten foot wide dirt path, which was very strange for me. I am so used to hiking on paths where you begin to question whether they are paths or not. I have been lost a few times with friends, and have climbed up rocks on well cured paths…but never have my paths been wide, dirt roads. About three hours into our hike, we ran into about 60 or more empty kegs and crates of beer. Obviously…in the middle of the Alps in Germany, NORMAL. Many huts in the Alps actually have food supplies delivered by helicopters, however, some things are delivered by foot, or on small cars or bikes. It is beyond me how many of these huts are built into or on top of mountains.

Wide dirt path. 

Kegs in the alps. 

Around lunchtime, my dad and I saw a sign for the Bockhütte (perhaps a good stop for hot drinks, we thought) and then we heard some strange jingling noises. Immediately my mind wandered to the film “Harriet the Spy,” when Harriet goes to an amazing garden with Ole (Rosey O’Donnell) and plays wind chimes with her friends. (Woohoo 90’s – see the clip below) My dad thought the same, he imagined people playing cans and other percussion instruments outside around a fire, though we knew that wasn't possible with the rain. It was still pouring quite a lot and as we searched for the hut, we saw sheep grazing on the bank of the river, with bells. OBVIOUSLY, that is what the noise was. Sheep in the middle of nowhere, in the German Alps accompanied with piles of poop to avoid. This came as a surprise to us, so German hikers were amusingly able to watch as we snapped photos of the adorable pack animals and the incredible log cabin that popped up magically out of nowhere. The cabin was equipped with a full German menu of foods, meals of the day, multiple beers on tap and spirits. There was EVEN a running toilet with toilet paper! We were in hiking heaven. It almost felt unfair…as if we had stumbled upon some luxury camping site and were “cheating,” but nope, this was normal. Men wearing German style hats and wool sweaters walked around in their leather boots, herding sheep and carrying carved wooden hiking sticks. My dad and I ate some cold snacks that we brought with us, paired with a beer, incredible peach schnapps and pea soup with wurst. We greeted the two boys and their father again, as they lit up their pipes.

Bock-Huette & Trail Signs 

Sheep and some shepherds. 

We moved on for another few hours, up and down large hills, across and among beautiful waterfalls. We began to feel pretty cold since we were soaking wet and every once in a while squeezed water out of our jackets. Unfortunately, I had to stop taking my camera out because the lens was fogging up, thus I was technology free for the majority of the trail which felt refreshing. There’s nothing like the initial insecurity of being disconnected and then being able to just let your mind wander and think without distraction. We saw amazing things on this trail. Beautifully constructed wooden bridges, amazing paths, views, breathtaking waterfalls, eventually we made it to our first destination after really starting to feel tired. Across from the Reintalangerhütte I looked at a steep cliff where evergreens were clutching with mist slowly fading through them. It was so beautiful, so unreal.

Beautiful cliff across from Reintalangerhuette.

My dad and I walked into the Reintalangerhütte, glasses fogged up, pants dripping on the floor and just stared ahead, speechless. We were much further into the woods now, in a fully constructed building with a restaurant and three floors of beds. We just stared. People walked by us, wondered what we were doing, but assumed it was better to leave us in our confused bliss. We were eventually told to go to the drying room to take off our wet clothes, and then a nice young lady with wonderful braided, ginger dreads brought us to our room. The beds really were close together, each with about three thick blankets…however, my dad and I were lucky to have a whole row to ourselves and just space out. I believe I may have been the only girl in the room, potentially one of the only girls my age on the trail. We paid for our one night stay in the hut, and made a breakfast “order” and took a dinner “tab” or piece of paper where we would later check off our meals, drinks, and dessert if any. Somehow, I thought I would lose weight hiking the tallest mountain in Germany, but apparently that was a stupid misconception. We also received a sufficient discount for saying we were members of the Appalachian Alpine Club. I mean, it’s kind of true?

The Hut Beds. Nice blankets, clean sheets and pillows. 

Outside the hut. 

The "Trockenraum" or drying room.

Reintalangerhuette - had a beautiful area to sit by the river...next time, when it's sunny.

After settling in, we wondered downstairs, hoping for a hot dinner. We looked around the small, dining area… and heard tons of Germans drinking and having a good time, but no seats. A group of older men, moved over for us, and we were immediately invited into their slightly tipsy conversation. They were Germans who had actually emigrated from Iran and were climbing as three old buddies, looking after each other. (We met them at the top later the next day) At this point, there was talk that the mountain would potentially have snow by the morning due to the amount of rain and cooling temperatures. A boy with a young son told us he was definitely going up, however, a middle aged lady told us she wasn't as prepared and didn't want to hike in three feet of accumulating snow. My dad and I felt a little worried, since this was an unknown territory for us, however we continued to enjoy the night regardless. We eventually got our dinner which was full of delicious, heavy meats, potatoes, sauces and a few beers. We made friends again with the two boys and father, and talked to them in between their pipe breaks. They were all new to hiking, but were determined to make it to the top, even the end of the trail which involved hanging on to metal poles sticking out of the ground. (They were the only ones to accomplish this the next day) The night was full of beer, stories, meeting new people and in the end some spirits (Himbeergeist.) It got pretty late and we all decided to part for bed, as we would be woken up with music (!!!) early in the morning to get on our way.

The dining area of the hut. 

Going to bed was uncomfortable at first, because I was still wet and had decided not to shower (I know, disgusting…but after being wet all day, that was the last thing I wanted) but the blankets and heat dried all of the clothes I was wearing. We woke up to a really sweet accordion song played by one of the nice men working at the hut. Talking to him later he said that his free time was spent “hanging in a hammock” instead of hiking. I can imagine spending a summer in a hut with such an interesting group. I woke up in the morning, put my still soaked clothing, jackets, underwear etc. back on and got ready for breakfast. My dad and I opted for a hot coffee, breads, meats and jams. Though simple, it all tasted so good and was enough to last us till the next hut. We said our goodbyes and went on our way, not sure what to expect, from the weather.

Putting our COLD and DAMP clothing back on in the dry room!

The back of the hut, with the cliff in the background. 

A bittersweet goodbye to the hut.

Beginning to see snow. 

Still raining, still cold, we trekked on. Through even more beautiful, secluded passages we lost ourselves in nature, and rarely caught up with anyone until we reached the beginning of the Zugspitze. There we climbed and climbed, feeling the air become a little thicker and crisper. We decided to take our beloved hiking sticks out to use, without realizing how important they would be hours later. I don’t believe we ever stopped to rest, maybe once for some water…but we were so determined to keep moving. Soon we saw snow. We turned around for an amazing view, then looked ahead and walked on a very steep cliff that required our sticks and careful footing. Step by step we walked along, eventually through a thick cloud of fog. I could only see my dad….then all of a sudden, a young man, who looked like a very experienced hiker started walking carefully towards us on the trail and stopped. He said his group had decided to turn around, because they tried to make it to the top, got lost and felt it was too dangerous. I thought “hell no, we’re not going back DOWN the mountain.” And kind of ignored what he had told us.

Dad looks so small in comparison to the vertical cliff. 

Just beautiful. 

And of course, Germans need their benches everywhere. Even on mountain cliffs. 

We looked ahead and the thick fog and light snow revealed another hut. Just in time for a hot lunch and to discuss what our next move would be. We walked into the hut (WHICH WAS HANGING ON THE SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN) and all I could think of was how amazing hot drinks were. We couldn't even discuss what the young, hiking man had said…all we could focus on was the shock of snow in summer and hot things. We stripped ourselves of our wet jackets and I took my soaking socks off to dry on the fire. There were two dogs relaxing in this hut, all the comforts of home on a mountain. After a carrot curry soup, two Jaeger teas and some snacks that we hadn't eaten from our bags, we started to discuss what we should do. We ran into the man with his young kid as they were leaving to go to the top. Other people were going, but we weren't so sure. My dad began to text my mother that “we might stay another night” since his phone was dying he told her “there are a few inches of snow on the mountain, potentially dangerous conditions” and I said, “dad, don’t write that.” So he kept it at “we may stay another night,” both of us knowing how much she would freak out. The thought of walking down to Reintalangerhütte after having trekked with much difficulty around eight or nine hours to where we were, was unbearable. But I also couldn't picture just how dangerous it would be…or maybe it was even more dangerous to go down the mountain in the slush? We blindly walked out the door after feeling like it was time, still unsure of what to do…but we went up!

Carrot curry soup and Jaeger Tee. Nice way to warm up. :) 

Going up, all we saw was white. Possibly more white then I had ever seen in my life. There was just a faint pencil line that distinguished the cliff we were walking on from a steep fall. I pictured what it would be like if I took one wrong step. Would I tumble down like a snowball? Would my body stop me? I really don’t know, but luckily I never found out. Feeling dizzy, I just focused hard on each step and thought about nothing else. There were times when my dad slipped back a couple feet and my heart would jump right out of my chest. I was actually scared. I could barely see the cliff of the mountain through the mist, but it would only be worse to turn back, so we continued on. The last couple hours of the trail, my dad and I were pretty silent as we needed to focus on the placement of each step in order not to slip, and also to find the labeled metal poles to make sure we were going in the right direction. At this point, we could not follow the red trail signs, as they were in most cases not uncovered. My dad began to count each one in German…hearing each number was like receiving a present on Christmas. There were multiple times when we thought we were close…we would point to a rock in the distance and say “isn't that the lift?” But it wasn't…and the sound of the lift which echoed from far away actually made us veer off the trail. We became desperate for signs that we were close, but all we could do was count the poles. At times of uncertainty, I began to think one of us might end up like Jack Nicholson in the end of the shining, but luckily neither of us had to have icicles streaming down our face.

We could only see each other. 

Almost there!!! A visible sign! (Pointing back to where we came from)

For a mountain that has so many mountain climbers each year, we had truly unique conditions. When we got to the top, sweaty, soaking wet from head to toe, with tired eyes and rosy faces…we saw tourists who had come up on the train just to look around. We winced a little at that thought, and it took us a while to feel normal in public. Making eye contact with others who we recognized from Reintalangerhütte, made me feel like we shared a special secret. It was clear to me that purchasing a shirt that said “I climbed the Zugspitze” would not have been the same as one that said “I climbed the Zugspitze in pouring rain, slushy snow, and thick fog.” My dad and I took a lift to the very top of the mountain, which we decided was too dangerous to climb…got out to see the white air, and then took the Zugspitze train back down the mountain. Ironically, we got on the train back to Garmisch with our new pipe smoking friends and talked lightly about our experiences before saying goodbye one last time. We made it…and took a long, cold, wet, train ride back to Ansbach where my mom picked us up.

Our (white) view from the top...

Even this guy was feeling the cold. 

Overall, my dad and I quickly realized that hiking in Germany/ Austria is in many cases really straight forward. The paths are incredibly marked. Every once in a while you run into a situation where you have to choose between two or more paths, however, if there is no sign for your trail, you can be almost entirely sure that you just keep going straight until you see one. The huts are very well – organized, and they will even announce what the weather conditions will be like the morning of your climb. If it were not for the rainy conditions we had, the whole two days would have been a beautiful piece of cake. Instead, the hike was a challenging, bonding experience that my dad and I both share. It is one that is hard to explain to those who didn't go through it, however, this long blog gives a glimpse. It really showed me just how powerful nature is and how important it is to preserve it. Also, how quickly weather conditions can change, and how people come together in wonderful ways to help each other in perilous times. I look forward to more hut hiking in the Alps, and to always preserving memories from hiking with my dad, as he does with his.

Things I would bring for the next rainy hike:

• Rain covers for our backpacks (Which we have since purchased...everything we brought got SOAKED, if I didn't emphasize that)
• An umbrella – My mom told us to bring two as we walked out the door, but we just laughed at her. She was RIGHT. Everyone had umbrellas
• High rise, waterproof hiking boots – Obviously, mine had a problem, but they still weren't really meant for this kind of backpacking.
• My own slippers for the hut (though they do provide them...they are usually not your side and have been worn by many people before you)
• Duct tape – For repairing shoe holes….or anything.