Trekking along the Eagle's Way

By Mark Peterson

It was with more than a little trepidation, mixed with considerable anticipation, that we set off to conquer the 300+ km Eagle’s Way route that stretches across Austria’s Tyrol province. Being Americans and having no experience with Europe’s trails and hut system, but some confidence having backpacked throughout wild areas in the US, we started walking on the outskirts of St. Johann am Tirol hoping to reach Arlberg Pass in about 20 days.

My wife Erica and I were joined by good friends Jim and Caryl and together we began a journey where success was not a sure bet, given our shortcomings. We were not conditioned athletes, we were not in our prime (60s), we didn’t speak German and we were unfamiliar with the hut and trail system. Not exactly ideal qualifications if we had to apply for this assignment.

But we were intrigued by the journey. The Eagle’s Way (Der Adlerweg) crosses the entire length of the Tyrol traversing six mountain ranges and climbing 17,000m. The route was initiated in 2005 by the Tyrolean tourism organization. They stitched together existing trails and tracks and signposted the route with an eagle motif across 23 stages. Using some imagination, the route on a map can appear to some as an eagle silhouette with outstretched wings. Innsbruck is on its tail feather, with roughly equal distances comprising the wings on either side.

The first few days went without a hitch as we hiked across the rugged Wilder Kaiser. Although we expected to encounter outstanding scenery, we were not fully prepared for how spectacular the landscape was, especially the lush green valleys and mountain slopes. Our introduction to mountain huts was Gaudeamushütte on the first night where we were introduced to Radlers, a refreshing beer with lemonade, and the protocols of hut life.

One of the unique aspects of the Eagle’s Way is that it doesn’t only rely on footpaths. We got our first taste of alternative transportation on day 3 while high above the historic city of Kufstein where we were whisked off our feet by a chairlift and carried down the mountain side to the city’s edge in the valley below. Along the route we would encounter two more descending chairlifts, three short train rides, a funicular, one tram and a bus, all integrated into the route -- a welcome change to putting one foot before the other.

The route was challenging. Repeatedly, steep climbs to a ridge top or col gave way to long descents into a valley. We hated to lose all the elevation we worked so hard to gain. But this was to be expected. What would challenge us more was what Mother Nature could throw at us.

September is generally a fair weather month, the key word being “generally.” In the Alps, just about any weather is possible this month, as we discovered. By the time we arrived at Erfurterhütte (1831m) perched high above the town of Maurach, the sunny warm days were numbered. September 2 dawned wet with cold rain all day. We descended into town by cablecar, secured provisions there, and began a long 16 km, 1000m climb in the rain to Lamsenjochhütte. The dry, warm hut never felt so good!

But it was a few days later that Mother Nature decided to really test us – with an early season snowfall that dumped considerable snow in the high country and left many folks in the highest huts stranded for two days. We were more fortunate. The storm came upon us just as we were descending the funicular to Innsbruck. We decided to wait out the storm for a couple of days – valuable time we used to get our clothes washed, have a few good meals, and generally relax.

The storm hit on Friday, September 6 and by Monday morning we were on a train to pick up the trail at Hochzirl, climbing 900m to Solsteinhaus. At 1806m, the hut was just above the snowline, but the bright sun in the late afternoon began to melt the snow away, making for slippery footing on the smooth limestone bedrock the next morning as we zigzagged across scree and a steep gradient to reach the ridge at Eppzirlerscharte to witness a winter wonderland of jagged peaks clothed in crystalline white against a bright blue sky.

But the day that shook our faith in completing our adventure was the long stretch of trail just beyond Karwendelhaus, a popular refuge with 180 beds. Leaving immediately after breakfast, the trail climbed steeply 900m to a col below Birkkarspitze (2749m). We thought we had the hardest part behind us when we stopped at the notch to rest and enjoy the stunning views. But the descent proved much tougher. We dropped steeply into a glacial cirque working to keep our balance in a vast scree field, relying on steel cables whenever the pitch felt almost vertical. The descent seemed endless as we passed snowfields defying the summer sun. Our thighs were screaming, despite the hiking poles that helped to ease gravity’s pull. The 13 km hike to that night’s destination, Hallerangerhaus, was estimated to take 8 non-stop hours. It took us 10, arriving at the welcome oasis just before dinner was put away. A day to be humbled.

But there were many more joys than hardships. Without exception, the scenery was breath-taking throughout. Each turn of the trail seemed to unveil a new, spectacular view. We walked through the Kaiser, Brandenberg, Karwendel, Tuxer, Wetterstein, and Lechtaler Alps. We passed below the immense south face of Germany’s highest mountain, the famous Zugspitze. And further afield, we enjoyed a backdrop of Austria’s other dramatic mountain ranges including the Stubai and Großglockner Alps.

One of the other pleasures were the people we met along the way. One solo hiker was walking from Switzerland to Graz pushing a two-wheel cart containing her provisions. At one pasture hut we were entertained outside by the elderly owners playing a harp and singing folk songs. A special delight was the kinship we felt with the hut keepers who were so helpful and friendly. Surprisingly we met only two other people, a young couple from Australia, who were through-hiking like us.

We arrived at Arlberg Pass after 18 days on the trail. “Where’s the band?”, Jim joked. No fanfare at the finish, the treasure was in the journey. It was truly a trip of a life- time.

The morning dawned bright above the clouds near Lamsenjochhütte (1953m) above the clouds looking down the Falzthurntal towards Achensee. Photos by Mark R Peterson

The geology was ever-changing but always spectacular.

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