GROSSVENEDIGER, 3660 m
(T.) When the earth's dress renews itself in a hundredfold splendor of blossom, and youthful green climes herald the approach of spring, when the sun threatens to take away the frost-glistening armor with which the Nordic winter gods have encased the mountains, then we are once again urged to bid farewell to the infinite silence of the wintry high world, to the noble splendor of sun-drenched snow domes. Once again, in the time that for so many years has made the mountains seem a closed, inaccessible area, we want to penetrate the shimmering high region, we want to chase down to the valley in a breathtaking glide, once again master the steepness in bold turns, before retiring our faithful companions for the summer and getting out our ice axe and rope again. Easter! For alpine snowshoers, this is the perfect time for glacier tours. The days are already long, the weather is often fine, the ice streams are often covered in meters of snow, the crevasses are well bridged: the longing for a bigger undertaking can no longer be suppressed. Following this urge, I traveled in the company of like-minded people on the Krimml Railway through the Salzach Valley. We had already passed the main town of the Pinzgau, Mittersill, and were approaching the mouth of the Untersulzbachtal, where we had a magnificent view of the unchallenged ruler of the whole region, "our" peak, and soon afterwards we had also reached the Rosental-Großvenediger stop. It was 1/2 10 o'clock in the morning - an overnight train journey of more than twelve hours had brought us here from Vienna - and now it was time to set off to conquer the significant height of the Kürsingerhütte, 2558 /n, before nightfall.
We hiked across the snow-free valley floor, our boards on our shoulders, towards the opening of the Obersulzbachtal and followed the Alpenverein trail to the hut. After an ascent of barely more than half an hour, there was already enough snow to strap on our skis. We continued further and further into the valley over the remains of numerous avalanches, which may have fallen into the deep valley a few days ago, to the steep step of the Seebach Falls. We passed through the snow-covered forest, along the long hairpin bends of the bridle path, and reached the Berndlalpe, where we chose a sunny spot for a lunch break. This valley step offers the first view of the Obersulzbachkees. With sharp contours against the blue sky, it seemed to flow around the snow-covered rocks of the Geiger like a mighty river. The glacier world lay before us in shimmering fairytale splendor and unwavering silence - a glorious image of the unchanging rule of rigid natural laws, a place to understand the reverence that our time pays to the beautiful and sublime in the high mountains! -
After we had given our backpacks a hearty meal, we continued past the Aschamalpe, over undulating alpine pastures up to the glacier. With every meter of altitude we gained, the surroundings became more magnificent. The ice cataracts of the "Turkish Tent City", which form the fall of the expansive Keese towards its tongue, are indelibly imprinted on my memory. The tangled fissure system lies next to us in a cascade of wildly piled up blocks of ice. Abyssal, bluish chasms next to shimmering snow, strangely shaped ice formations next to cracked walls - these are the natural wonders that await us here. All too soon we had the labyrinth of crevasses behind us and continued on the terrace above, now already in view of the overwhelming northern drop of the Venediger, until we were able to cut the slope to the hut at a suitable point; soon afterwards we began to make ourselves at home in this high shelter, which is so favorably situated and often visited by snowshoers.
It was now evening when I stepped outside the hut alone to take another look at the winter wonderland before us. A last pale glow of day flitted over the icy heads that surrounded me. The wide glacier stream flowed down the valley below me like liquid silver. Not a breath of air stirred, not a cloud was visible. The first star shone above the noble head of the Venediger, the proud edifice of the ice giant was bathed in a soft light of indescribable transfiguration and towered into the steel-blue azure --- The following day we had climbed up the slopes of the Keeskogel to the Zwischensulzbachtörl, where the first rays of sunshine greeted us with a flashing light, and were now heading along the Untersulzbachkees towards the saddle between the Groß- and Kleinvenediger. Just below this we left our snowshoes behind, as we hoped to make better progress in the steep firn without them. We entered the Schlattenkees on the usual summer route, crossed several crevasses and climbed the last, rather steep firn slope to the top, from where the immense panorama opened up to us in crystal clarity.
The Ötztal rivals greeted us, the Northern Limestone Alps from the Zugspitze to the Dachstein, the horns and snow domes of the Glockner group, the bold towers of the Southern Limestone Alps in a long row, Ortler and Bernina in the distance on the horizon, they were all visible today in full splendor and their unforgettable image the reward for those "efforts", which are in themselves a great pleasure for the mountaineer. The streams of firn flow down on all sides into the young spring, which breathes so vigorously down there and revels in the delights of the light. Only here on our sunny and yet so deeply wintry height does time seem to stand still, for here winter reigns eternal, the youthful budding, the mighty rain of spring never penetrates up into this region of shimmering rigidity!
Highly satisfied, we finally took our leave of the lofty pinnacle. We carefully descended over the already softened snow bridges and soon reached our faithful boards. I wouldn't have swapped places with any king as I glided down the Untersulzbachkees at lightning speed in the deep powder snow. Knowing that I was free from the worries of the world and the troubles of life, my chest swelled with a feeling of jubilation, so that a cry of joy escaped from it, echoing my sense of pride and victory to the walls of this high valley! The Zwischensulzbachtörl reunited us all and now we descended in the damp, salty firn over the Obersulzbachkees. Once again our snowshoe tips cut through the snow, hissing and crackling. An uninterrupted double line, the trail of our previous day's hut ascent, which leaves the glacier here, becomes visible, our gliding boots rush on and on in unhindered speed until we stop in front of the "Turkish Tent City". Now it's a case of skilfully weaving our way between the lurking abysses and ice walls of the quarry. Carefully, past meter-wide crevasses, we descend. The crevasses get closer and closer from both sides until they only leave a narrow passage; we can't see what follows. Slowly and expectantly I try this way out and with a shout of joy I announce to my companions what I see before me. I have reached the gently sloping glacier tongue and I am already hurtling straight down the white element that gives the boards so much life. We then descend from the end of the Kees to the Aschamalpe in numerous turns and curves and, after a long rest, across the almost flat valley floor to the Berndlalpe. Here the brisk ride begins again. The route now descends through the high forest towards the valley opening, and as long as there is still wintery white, we ride. Then, shouldering our trusty boards, we hike out to the cable car with a sense of satisfaction.
