Hiking in the Rofan Mountains in Austria

Summit Climbers: A Hike with Unexpected Challenges

Join us on a hike full of highs and lows. From the anticipation, through the challenges of the trail, to the realization that sometimes retreat is the right step. Accompany us on our adventure in the Rofan Mountains!

Anyone who knows me knows I love being outdoors. I've even become a fan of functional clothing. However, I'm also a very thoughtful person, and that's precisely what led to an insurmountable obstacle for me on our hike. Here's the story:

For our hike up the Gschöllkopf in the Rofan Mountains, we stocked up on provisions in Maurach. Our goal was a day hike up to the Erfurter Hütte. The plan was to hike up in the morning and then take the cable car back down. We planned to have breakfast somewhere along the way.

We set off from our campsite at around 8:30 a.m. and walked through Maurach, past the valley station. The first few meters beyond Maurach made it clear what about 900 meters of elevation gain would feel like. But we were in good spirits. We were even a little relieved that we didn't have to walk through the snow. Who could have guessed that not everything had melted higher up? Certainly not us – but I guess you learn something new every time.

So we followed the marked trail towards the summit. The great thing about this trail was that you could constantly turn around and look out over Maurach and the surrounding mountains – a breathtaking view! Initially, we walked uphill alongside a small but steadily flowing stream. After about 3.5 km, we reached a small ski slope that we had to cross. There was still plenty of snow here – good for the winter sports enthusiasts and no cause for concern for us. We made sure to cross the slope safely and continued on our way. We were starting to get hungry, and luckily, the perfect opportunity for breakfast wasn't long in coming. There was still some snow where we sat down, and we slowly realized that the higher we climbed, the more snow there would be.

Breakfast, consisting of sandwiches, sausage, cheese, and apples, combined with hot tea in the Alps, was probably the breakfast with the best view we've ever had while eating. We were free of worries, and so far it had simply been exhausting. And that was a good thing.

We were incredibly lucky with the weather the whole way, as the sun shone and we were thrilled. This might prove important later on.

Refreshed, we set off again, along a piste that was partially covered in snow. Here we noticed for the first time that our hiking poles sank quite deeply into the snow we were walking through. At that point, this wasn't a problem for us at all; in fact, we found it rather amusing. Ahead of us lay a ski slope, which was no longer in use, as the snow was probably no longer suitable for skiing. We then realized that the path, which was actually intended for hikers, had disappeared. It was completely snowed in – and not just a little bit.

More and more often, we suddenly sank up to our knees in the frozen snow. The trail was slowly becoming quite challenging, and I began to indulge in elaborate mental exercises. What if we slipped and fell? Where could we grab hold? In 2021, I had hiked the E5 trail in the Alps with a good friend. To prepare, we had watched a documentary in which a mountain guide explained that if you slipped on a ridge, you should turn onto your stomach and grab anything you could – otherwise, things would look grim. And that was precisely the image I (unnecessarily) had in mind.

My partner, too, was sinking into the snow more and more often. In some places, there was a hollow beneath the thick snowpack that you could simply break through into – then you'd be up to your hips in snow. As long as you weren't walking on the slope, it was manageable, even though it really took energy to stay positive. And the conditions certainly weren't making the path any easier. But we pressed on. We had to. Together, we overcame one or two critical situations – encouraging each other and carrying on.

After quite a while, we reached a dip in the terrain – time to catch our breath and clear our heads. I also realized by then that my shoes weren't exactly suitable for this weather. I had an aquarium in my shoe – damn. We looked towards the summit and saw the trail – or rather, we didn't. The hiking trail was impassable; the only option left was to go up the ski slope. Anyone who's ever skied knows that it can get pretty steep up there.

We were so close – or at least it felt that way. We set off, heading up the ski slope. My nerves were on edge, and the slippery slope didn't help. The sun didn't help either – as clear as the weather was, the sun was blazing down, and my imagination wasn't playing along. I was (once again unnecessarily) worrying about how we were going to "get up there" and, more importantly, what would happen if we didn't make it. Helicopter? Mountain rescue? Spending the night in the hut we'd seen? In hindsight, all of these worries were mostly unfounded. We continued walking along the ski slope, seemingly taking two steps forward only to slide one back down. At times, I even tried crawling on all fours – if it looks silly but works, it's not silly. Except it didn't really work.

We were about 200 meters from the finish when we were overtaken by a woman who had brought along just the right equipment – shoe spikes. She looked so incredibly pleasant as she walked past us and chatted with us for a bit. She explained that she'd been to the tourist information office and had rented the spikes there – only €16 a day. Frankly, that didn't help us, or rather, me, at all. Quite the opposite. After about four hours of hiking uphill and over 800 meters of elevation gain, my mental strength was completely gone. I couldn't go on. Shortly before the finish, I had to admit – that I couldn't go on. I was exhausted, the sun was getting to me, we didn't have enough water with us, and I just wanted to get back down.

A big thank you to my partner for her understanding, because when I told her I was mentally unable to continue, it was clear she could have, but she was understanding and we reluctantly turned back. So, no five kilometers uphill, hot chocolate, and then a leisurely cable car ride down. More like five kilometers uphill, only to hike the same distance back down.

I was pretty annoyed that I hadn't made it, but we also learned a lot. More water, better preparation. We could have managed that slope with those crampons – it would have been like climbing stairs.

We started making our way down, this time simply following the ski slope – it seems like a pretty good place to go down. Inwardly, I was glad we were heading towards safety. At the same time, I was annoyed with myself.

When we finally arrived back at the camper after 10 km, over 1500 meters of elevation gain, and more than eight hours, I was very relieved – we were safely back in Maurach. We have a new story to tell. Was it worth it? Yes. Would we do this route again? Yes, just not in this weather, or next time with the right equipment.

The trail and the mountains are highly recommended! But before you set off, check the weather and make sure the trails are in good condition! Happy trails!

Austria Holidays 2024

This post is part of a series about our 2024 (February) campervan trip to Austria. The stories in these posts take place in Bavaria, Munich, Königssee, Berchtesgaden, Salzburg, and Achensee.