Those were the days my friend
We thought they'd never end

by Bern Hellier

The evocative, lilting, voice of Mary Hopkin kept John and I company as we drove long hours to Camping Dachstein in Ramsau, south-east of Salzburg, where we met up with our Lake District friends Phil and Evelyn and Dave and Ann. This year, we reasoned, the 4000m peaks of our youth may no longer be attainable but the Eastern Alps would be more manageable.

Probably a good thing it was misty

And they were. Our target in the first week, the Hoher Dachstein, the most easterly glacier peak in the Eastern Alps, is just shy of 3,000m. The foot of the north-east spur is reached in less than an hour from the top of the Hunerkogel lift but we then struggled a bit on the protected climb from there to the summit. It is steep and a bit more than a scramble. Klettersteig gear is a good idea. The return route by the glacier was heavily crevassed and not in use by the end of July when we were there so we had to return by the way we had come.

Our training climb had been the traverse of the Scheichenspitze in a westerly direction from the traditional Guttenberghaus. It turned out to be a real highlight. The first excitement of the day was a sluggish adder which fortunately decided to slither away in retreat. Then 2km of serrated ridge, well wired, but still a splendid ridge with lots of exposure. When the mist cleared there was a fine panorama extending from the vast karstlands in the north to the green hills of the Hohe Tauern National Park to the south-west. Returning tired to the valley both ladies inadvertently rolled their way down what had appeared to be scree but was in fact stones embedded in hard mud. Bruises, but thankfully no permanent damage done.

Groppenstein Gorge
Photos by David Oldfield

We moved in the second week to Mallnitz in the Hohe Tauern and a basic but friendly campsite within walking distance of the town. The road ends here but an hourly rail service takes vehicles through an 8km tunnel to Bockstein. We walked up in the rain to the Hagener Hütte, were made welcome, dried out a bit, and then, still in the rain, dropped into the lush Nassfeld valley and caught the last bus down to Bockstein and a train ride back to Mallnitz. Later in the week we climbed the Ankogel in misty conditions more Lake District than Alps. On the following day the continuing rainfall made a trip to the Groppenstein Gorge worthwhile: a walkway leans out above the raging waters and on our visit they were indeed raging.

Part of the joy of a new area of the Alps is the flora. Each year there will be something new. This year it included the hen and chickens houseleek (jovibarba sobilifera) on the acid soils between flakes of slate on the way up to the Maresenspitz. The flowers burst from bulb-like clusters that develop over several years. After flowering they die, to be replaced as the little chickens they have spawned grow up.

We were well challenged by the mountains and stayed in a part of working Austria where the places retain their local summer festivals, where communities farm the rich valleys but also have many people who commute to the Salzburg conurbation. The visitor is accommodated but the area is not over-run. If you remember Mary Hopkin then give the area a try. Each year we keep on returning to the Alps. As the lady sings:

For in our hearts the dreams are still the same

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