Anno dazumal Part 5 | Snowshoeing in the Oetztal Alps

Snowshoeing in the Ötztal Alps

By Dr. Franz Tursky

There is probably no other glacier region in the Alps that offers snowshoers such enjoyable trips and such rewarding destinations as the Ötztal mountains. Flat firn fields often rise up to the highest peaks and the glaciers that flow from them down to the valley are mostly gently sloping and extensive, so that they allow Nordic skiers a carefree and at the same time speedy ride everywhere. That's why the Ötztal high peaks, which in the past never or only rarely had winter visitors, became known early on in the alpine snowshoeing guild and are now popular with all those who love mountain sports and snowshoeing to the same extent.

Easter! This is just the right time to celebrate the end of winter on snowshoes in a worthy manner. And where else but in the high mountains! The days are already long, the weather is usually good and the snow conditions at this time of year are more favorable than in the depths of winter. That's why the disciples of alpine snowshoeing are once again powerfully and irresistibly drawn out into their lofty high mountains at Easter, and there are many of them who celebrate the start of spring every year on a proud three-thousand-metre peak. My descriptions are primarily intended for them, but I also want to tell everyone about my sunny Easter mountain trips in the Ötztal, to whom this type of mountaineering was previously unknown from my own experience, in order to recruit supporters and friends of alpine snowshoe mountaineering in their ranks.

How wonderful was Easter 1914, which I spent in the Ötztal high world in the cheerful company of some like-minded mountain companions! Those days were delightful, so wonderful and enchanting that the memory of them still fills me with blissful feelings today. Gone are the carefree journeys over shining distant shores and with them the high joy of this pleasurable life, but in my innermost being rest imperishable images which were imprinted on my soul at that time and which will always and forever remain unforgettable to me. All that is ugly and beautiful has vanished from my memory, and what has remained as a lasting gain from fleeting pleasures is a deep memory of those journeys, which has often allowed all the noble images to pass before me, as splendid and beautiful as they once were in the swift flight of reality. In wild beauty and with lavish abundance, All Mother Nature rebuilds the shimmering splendor of this high world before my mind's eye, and when I think of you, you proud, sun-drenched peaks, the radiance of past joys, the sun of vanished pleasure, surges through my soul - as full of light and brightness as in those hours when I dwelt on your flashing crests. Yes, a single thought of you is able to awaken in me that fortifying elation that I felt on your light-flooded heights back then, a single image of my memory is enough, and already that enjoyable joy of existence revives in me, which once held me blissfully enthralled in your magic spell. But what use are words of love when it comes to describing a glowing life! My thoughts and feelings can only be understood and empathized with by those who, like me, know how to recount the countless joys they once experienced in the mountains in winter.

Access to the Brandenburger Haus on the Kesselwandjoch, 3277 m

We sat idle for two days, passing the time as best we could with chatting, singing and all sorts of jokes to keep us in a cheerful mood. Then we indulged in plans for the future again, which didn't fit in at all with the fog raging outside our hut windows, but were nonetheless able to keep us in a good mood. Finally, on Maundy Thursday, after the air pressure had begun to rise slowly but steadily 24 hours earlier, the storm was still raging as it had on the day of our arrival, but the fog had thinned considerably. And lo and behold, in the morning hours it brightened up; we could finally see part of our immediate surroundings from time to time. We quickly got everything ready, cooked and had lunch, then stepped outside the hut door, strapped on our snowshoes and were amazed at the beautiful images that the sun conjured up for us in its relentless battle against the chasing clouds of mist. Here and there a ridge, a peak became visible, but was soon surrounded by mist again. Like a storm surge, the hurrying clouds crashed against rock and firn, shattering and shattering in a delightful play of their own impotent fury. More and more the ice-bound mountains around us emerged from the drifting clouds, more and more the sun with its flaming rays enlivened this silent, lonely high world before our eyes. These were solemn hours that we experienced, a resurrection from night and fog - eagerly awaited by us - took place before our delighted, amazed, admiring eyes.

Weißkugel, 3746 m

As we looked out for the weather the next day - it was Good Friday - all the high peaks around us rose up into a cold, cloudless, clear starry night, just the right weather for our plans. We cooked quickly and left the hut soon after sunrise. How happy we all were when we stepped out into a glistening abundance of light and the most distant peaks glowed before us in a rosy morning glow!

We had soon descended over the upper part of the Kesselwandferner, then we left a large icefall on the left and headed towards the Hintereisferner, which we reached at an altitude of around 2500 m. After a short rest, as the last part of the descent had been steep and strenuous, we climbed up over the long, gently sloping glacier, always keeping our eyes on today's destination, with the highest mountain in the Ötztal Alps, the Wildspitze, behind us. The snowshoe hike over the Hintereisferner to the Hintereisjoch is one of the most beautiful of its kind that I can name from my rich experience. The gentle slope of the glacier rises amidst a mighty world of ice, which amazes and delights every visitor with its defiantly enchanting beauty. A little below the Hintereisjoch, after a few hairpin bends necessitated by the steadily increasing gradient, we left our skis behind, as without them we could more safely negotiate the huge masses of snow that had been deposited here all winter - although it was arduous and not without danger, even if it was only a few pitches. I had left my double poles behind with our snowshoes, as had everyone else who was equipped with ice axes; just below the yoke we had to carve a few steps into the hard firn, which then brought us to the ridge of our mountain, which we now followed. It became narrower with every step. To the left, a dazzling white abyss opened up, blazing in the fire of the sun's rays, to the right a shimmering, sparkling depth filled with rays! How wonderful was this airy firn footbridge, which we had been looking up to longingly for hours! Just before reaching the summit, we climbed up over a slab-like rock tower, up to a sunny resting place on this peaceful height, up to the highest step of an eerie ladder to heaven, which we carved out for ourselves in snow and ice!

It is not without good reason that our summit is described as the noblest elevation of the mighty Ötztal ice mountains. It is as if infinity has been opened up to the human eye all at once - so overwhelming is the impression of this panoramic view. Mountain after mountain is lined up at the viewer's feet and the whole visible world seems to be rolled up before him like a single, large painting. In the far distance, mountains rise up into the blue sky like silver threads and all the countless glaciers at their feet flow like mighty streams down into the valley, towards the young spring below. My feeble pen cannot describe the elemental power of nature that is revealed to the human eye here. If you can, go our way yourself to see and feel for yourself what we saw and felt.

Fluchtkogel, 3514 m

We used the early hours of the following day to sort out the economic affairs in the hut, thoroughly cleaned the winter room we had occupied, the cooking utensils we had used, made our entries in the hut book, cooked a hearty breakfast and didn't set off until around 10am. We were in no hurry, we just had to pay a visit to the nearby Fluchtkogel and then descend to the Vernagthütte, which was to serve as our base for the ascent of the Wildspitze. The Guslarjoch, over which the summer crossing to the aforementioned hut leads, is always heavily overgrown in winter, which is why you have to use a slightly higher single pass towards the Fluchtkogel for the crossing at this time of year. We headed there via the gently rising glacier and left our snowshoes and most of our luggage there to make the steep firn ascent to the summit easier. We made a series of carefully hewn steps to safely negotiate the snow and, a good hour after leaving the Brandenburger Haus, we were already standing on the summit, whose precipice towards the Vernagtferner was adorned with monstrous cornices. With an armed eye and a "panorama" in hand, we sat here in the center of the mighty Ötztal icebergs, of which the Weißkugel and the Wildspitze stood out as the highest elevations, the former now already a joyful experience in my memory, the latter at that time still a hotly felt desire of my insatiable summit longing. For a long time we basked in sweet idleness and gazed out into the crystalline distances that stretched endlessly before our eyes. Then we descended again in the steps that had led us out and, once back in our snowshoes, began the journey over the Vernagtferner to the Vernagthütte. And that was another trip worthy of all the others we had made in the Ötztal mountains, beautiful and enjoyable at the same time. We quickly descended deeper and deeper, and soon we must have reached the height of the hut. A glance at the map was enough to determine where we had to go, the hut could only be hidden behind a wave of firn not far from our position. We headed for this destination and soon had the joyful satisfaction of seeing the hut. We opened the door with the Alpine Club key, then settled down and prepared a hearty meal, lunch and dinner at the same time, which did our famished stomachs a lot of good.

We spent the rest of the day outside the hut door and chatted away the hours in the most pleasant way. Countless old memories, of which we were all rich, were refreshed, and the splendor of the mountain world in summer and winter was praised in enthusiastic words. These were hours that can only be properly appreciated by those who are as devoted to mountaineering as we are. We spoke with equal enthusiasm of icy storms on dizzy ridges and of carefree hours at sunny rest stops, and whatever experiences we recounted from the mountains filled us with quiet enjoyment and blissful happiness. Night fell before we thought about it. We retired to our home away from home and soon went to bed. All available alarm clocks - and almost all of us had one - were set to 4 o'clock.