A taste of the Zillertal
by Julie Vural
If you're a keen mountain hiker but have never tried an Austrian Alps hut-to-hut tour, then your life is incomplete!
Nothing can beat the experience of sitting, glass in hand, on the terrace of a cosy hut at 2000m watching the sunset gilding the peaks all around. And the opportunity to savour the silence and wildness of high mountains, remote and far removed from bustling valley life for days on end, comes a close second. At least that was my pitch to Fran when I proposed we join five other Club members (Rose, Mike, Alastair, John and Kareen) for leader Steve Mann's one-week introduction to alpine hut-touring in the Zillertal in early July 2023.
As it turned out, the weather didn't quite play ball - on every evening of the five nights we were in the mountains our huts were either shrouded in mist or cowering beneath thundery deluges of rain and hail. Yet amazingly, we didn't get properly rained on until the end of the last day, waiting for the bus back down to Mayrhofen. How's that for luck? True, for the first part of the trip we spent one full day and two half days walking in low cloud which drifted up from the valley, so we missed out on some of the incredible views that we knew were hiding from us; but every now and again the veil lifted, and that coyness added an extra magic to our few brief glimpses of peaks and glaciers. I rather enjoyed the fog's mystical, moody atmosphere too, given that, as long as we stuck to the well-waymarked path, there was virtuaIly no chance of getting lost.
In contrast, for the second part of the trip we had glorious sunshine with wall-to-wall panoramas of peaks and (sadly diminished) glaciers in the mornings. The afternoon thunderstorms held off until we'd finished walking, and our spirits lifted. We paddled in glacial streams and mountain lakes, basked on hut terraces sampling cake (we were in Austria, after all), revelled in the abundance of wildflowers and wildlife (helllo marmots and salamanders) - finally, this was the Alps as we'd imagined them!
Almost all of our route lay within the Zilltertal Alps Nature Park, an extensive protected area on the border with Italy with zero ugly ski-infrastructure. It was pristine, raw and elemental. Our route took us across boulder fields, snow patches and rushing mountain torrents, and our highest point was nearly 2800 metres, so although we crossed no high passes, there were plenty of challenges, and every night we stayed in a hut at over 2000m.
The huts! They were one of the highlights of the trip for me. All so different in character, from the cosy alpine-chalet feel of Friesenberghaus, with Joachim the marmot's alternative weather station at the front door; to the minimalist Skandi vibe of the Olpererhutte; the friendly and spacious family-run Pfitscherjoch-Haus (Rifugio Passo di Vizze) just over the Italian border, with its quirky meal ordering system and free hot showers; and the magnificent baronial hall architecture of the historic Berliner Hutte, complete with imposing staircase dominating the lobby and a ballroom-sized, chandelier lit dining room . The food in all of them was mostly delicious and the portions always generous. The tight sleeping arrangements ook a little getting used to, especially for those group members who'd never slept in a hut dorm before, but I suppose it's one way of getting to know your companions pretty well pretty quickly...
For me, even more than the scenery and the huts, the spice that gives each hut-touring trip its unique piquancy is the random people you meet, enjoying the mountains in their own way. Like the warden of the Friesenberghaus, insisting we sample his home-made juniper-berry schnapps, complete with detailed instructions about how to consume it, and a description of how he makes it (a bit too involved for me to follow after a few shots). Then, at John's request, giving a guided tour of the hut's new power plant and sewage system. (I admit I opted to skip that highlight); like the Russian woman hiking the Berliner Hiihenweg solo, making the most of the foggy day by creating in her journal an accomplished watercolour sketch of Mike sitting in the hut window seat.
How about the two Aussie guys, seemingly dressed for the desert in neck flaps and gaiters, whose first instinct on hearing English accents on the trail was to gloat about cricket scores?
Then there was the cagey university group carrying a telescope and butterfly nets up to an alpine lake in search of 'animals'; the three teenage lads from a local school group diving straight into an icy lake; another solo female hiker whom we met in the mist, on her way from Munich to Venice; and, most bizarrely, the 'preened-looking' hordes around the Olpererhutte at lunchtime, (thanks, John, for the apt description) - the lnstagram crowd who'd made the 90-minute trek up from the valley solely for the perfect panoramic photo on the nearby suspension bridge.
So, did the trip live up to the glowing pitch I gave to Fran? In her own words - "I really enjoyed the experience. I won't say holiday: " She's right It may have been short on creature comforts but the variety, challenges and sheer grandeur of the surroundings made for a superb trip. Thanks Steve!
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