We all met at Verone and Jürgen’s house, distributed the gear, and we were on the road before 7:00.
There are six of us.
The first group is Verone, Angelika, and Gail. Their plan is to hike from the Dolomiten Hütte (el. 1602m. - 5256 ft.) to the Karlsbader Hütte (2261m. - 7418 ft.), an elevation gain of 660 meters, or about 2150 feet. They figured on a three or four hour hike up, and once at the hut they would have coffee, walk around the lake and hang out for a few hours.
The second group is Ralph, Jürgen, Lorent, Petra, and me. Our plan is to leave the Dolomiten Hütte, bypass the Karlsbader Hütte, and strike out for the summit of Simonskopf, at 2687m. (8816 ft.) one of the bigger peaks in the area. Then we would descend to the Karlsbader Hütte to rejoin the other group.
Our group were all carrying helmets and climbing equipment specific for the Via Ferrata, or Iron Way.
The Via Ferrata is a series of fixed steel cables, sometimes with steel rebar ladders, wires to cross gaps, and the occasional metal bridge. On many mountains in the Alps, you can choose to (possible) walk up, climb the Via Ferrata route, or do a standard rock climbing route. Because I am a visitor, the Via Ferrata is a great alternative to climbing, with minimal equipment needed. You get a lot of good exposure (high drop offs and cliffs) and a chance to top out on a peak, without needing to haul around ropes, chocks and carabiners.
The approach was the same as heading to the Karlsbader Hütte, 2150 feet of steep elevation gain up dirt and rock trails.
The grey mountains dodged in and out of the clouds, and it was really cold. I did not wear my fleece however, because the cool air helped me keep a good, hard pace with minimal sweating, My hands were pretty numb most of the time, and my nose was just running continually.
The sharp pyramid of Teplitzer Peak ripped the air directly in front of us, the more rounded Simonskopf (Simon’s Head - poor Simon whomever it was named for…) rising to the right.
The way the grey peaks rise nearly vertical here reminds me a lot of the Tetons, in Wyoming; a wall of granite coming straight up, 6600 impressive feet from the valley floor in Lienz.
We climbed hard and steadily, the two younger climbers, Lorent and Petra out ahead. At the turnoff to Karlsbader, we took a quick water break, then headed up again towards a pass, climbing the loose rock and scree, occasionally sliding back or having to heave up a big step.
The going was slower on this section, the breathing harder.
I taught the expression “Sucking Os” to Jürgen, who got a laugh out of it.
The trail made small switchbacks through the gravel and rock, and at times headed straight up. There were groups of other climbers heading hut to hut above us on the main trail.
As we gained elevation we hit the main trail, and continued up, up on steps made with wooden boards holding back gravel until we topped out at the pass. The Austrian flag red-white-red blazes were joined by a white-red-white marking, and another blue circle with white center blaze, like a target. These led off the main trail, and into a bowl, to head over another, higher pass. Simonskopf loomed ahead, to the right.
We followed the blue and white targets upwards.
A herd of wild sheep grazed on the mountainside across from us; through my camera I could see the big, swept back horns of the male. I snapped a few photos (Later, when I showed them to the others, they were pretty impressed with the close up detail.) and moved on. We were soon high above them, crossing up to yet another pass at the head of the col.
At this point it became kind of a slog, moving steadily up and up, but slipping back. The sun was on us now, the peaks cleared, and we were sweating.
Two-thirds of the way up it suddenly became fun; the trail’s steepness mellowed out, but now it swept across the exposed face of the col, becoming a very narrow, almost non-existent line in some places. On this section, if you slipped you might slide for several hundred feet before coming to a stop.
But this is some of my favorite type of terrain, I am familiar and confident in these conditions and my pace picked up as I made great time striding across the slope.
It lead directly into mixed rock, where we scrambled through the last couple hundred feet, picking out way to a second, higher pass.
We were now standing between Simonskopf on the right, and Teplitzer to the left. The mountains opened up in front of us; a chill wind swept up through the gap, cooling us off instantly. Looking back down, down the way we had come you could see the Lienz Valley almost 6000 feet below, but not Lienz itself. The mountain tops were still above us, the col with its rockslides and little snow banks lay below. Clouds drifted in and out of the scene.
We scrambled and free climbed another hundred feet or so, then dropped our packs.
Ralph decided he was going to wait here for us, so he settled into a crack under a rock overhang and covered up against the wind. The rest of us put on our climbing harnesses, carabiners and lanyard sets (shock cords), and helmets. A drink of water and we headed up.
The whole trick with a Via Ferrata route is to always have one carabiner clipped onto the cable.
So I came to the first cable, clipped in with both, then climbed the rock to the first anchor point. Here I un-clipped one carabiner and re-clipped it to the higher cable, then followed with the second ‘biner. In this manner I was always protected as I climbed the exposed ridge.
I continued higher and higher, the ridge turning to a knife’s edge, the cliffs dropping way away on each side. It is great fun to be up this high, climbing the rocks and scrambling about, with no fear at all of falling.
At least not falling very far; no further than the length of the shock cords (maybe three feet) and the distance of the cable you are currently clipped to (perhaps five to thirty feet).
I would stop and take photos, filming Lorent and Petra up ahead. (When Lorent summited, he climbed up on the summit cross and I got some really excellent shots of him, standing there seemingly floating in space ten feet above the summit, nothing but air behind him.)
At one really memorable point I was walking the narrow ridge of pointy-topped rocks, the actual VF route six feet below me, arms out.
Suddenly inspired, I stopped, walked back, gave my camera to Jürgen and asked him to film me walking across.
I did it again.
Then I went back and got the camera, and crossed yet again.
Once settled into a more secure position on the other side, I filmed Jürgen as he came across. We were just having a great time, kinderspiel auf den bergen. (Child’s play in the mountains.)
We eventually made the summit of Simonskopf, and took a good look down and around.
We signed the register (interesting, the last signature was three days ago) and took a lot of photos.
The clouds were slowly rolling in over and between the sharp peaks around us, then breaking off to drift down into the col before disappearing.
I took one summit photo with my iPhone, and sent it to Gail, who was in the hut far below.
We finally decided to head down, and we sort of set out in advance a few places on the return where we could photograph each other.
We were about half way across the top route, back where Jürgen and I had been filming before, when tragedy stuck.
I should set this next part up with a note of explanation to my non-climbing friends. When you are climbing or hiking at elevation for several hours, your hands and fingers swell slightly, they stiffen up. Some of it is due to the cold, some to the elevation, and partly because your blood is really pumping to those extremities. That is why they make carabiners with large, easy to open gates, and is also the reason why people sometimes lose their grip on otherwise easy sections.
So, I got in a good position on the VF route, and filmed a nice long sequence of Petra as she moved across the top, clipping and unclipping. I swept over to Lorent in the lead.
It was perfect.
I stuck the camera back in my pack pocket, and moved up, climbing rapidly to the next section to catch Jürgen as he came towards me.
I slung my pack off, pulled the camera out and as I raised it, turning it on, I bumped the edge of the rock in front of me and lost my grip on the camera.
I can see it in slow motion.
I was raising it, so the effect was like tossing it out in front of me, right over the cliff.
I felt like I could almost dive after it, catch it in mid-air. (Good thing I was clipped in I guess.)
I watched it fall down, down… about 500 feet down the cliff it caught a rock and broke apart (Spin inwards, I thought. I could climb down…) and it keep free falling, another 500-700 feet now before it hit the first ledge.
It just exploded.
It was spectacular, in a very sickening way.
The parts were raining down far, far below to the rockslide area (This is looking over the ridge to the side of the mountain we did not climb.) where it all just disappeared from view.
I was numb.
It is not the camera, it is the photo card, with all the great pictures of today’s climb, of our friends; Venice and Salzburg, Bertchesgaden and Hallstatt… but especially today’s climb.
Everybody was looking at me.
Petra was the first to speak, I think.
She said, “Well, you know, shit happens.”
And at that I shrugged, cursed a little, and moved on. What else is there to do?
We finished our climb, went over the story again, and I pulled out my iPhone to capture what photos I could.
But sadly, just as a camera is not a phone, a phone is not a camera.
Eventually we reached the end of the cables, then Ralph.
Everybody was sympathetic about the loss, and they all started taking more photos as we discussed ways to drop-box them to me later.
We climbed down, then walked back across the top of the col to another saddle where we once again split up. Lorent, Petra and I decided that, since we were here we might as well go up and bag Teplitzer as well. Ralph and Jürgen started their descent towards the Karlsbader Hütte, on a lake far below.
We followed a trail two-thirds of the way up, then we had to free climb the last hundred feet or so to reach the summit. There were no cables, so we just took it easy and tested every hold before committing.
There is something very freeing about being on a cliff, the wind sweeping across you, nothing but air below and the peaks surrounding you.
I topped out on the summit first, and got a photo of the other two as they pulled over. The actual summit was the size of a dining room table, and it dropped dramatically in all directions.
We signed the register (Last entry August 2014) and I had my second peak of the day, Teplitzer at 2613m (8573 ft).
The clouds were moving in now, even sweeping our peak, so a last photo or two and we carefully down climbed to the narrow trail, made our way along the edge of the cliff till we hit the slope of the peak, walked to the saddle and ran - slid - scrambled and fell down the loose scree slope where Ralph and Jürgen were waiting.
We all walked the last kilometer down to the hut where we met up with the other group.
God bless these mountain huts! We toasted our climb with cold beers, ate soup and pork chops, and let our leg muscles stiffen up.
We still had to stagger the last couple kilometers, 2150 feet of elevation drop, back down to our starting point at the Dolomiten Hütte. The first group left early; we met up at the spectacular hut, perched on the edge of a cliff, and all had coffee before driving back down the mountain.
A quick shower, and we all met up at Ferlenhotel Restaurant, just down the road from Amlach, where Gail and I thanked everyone for their kindness and hospitality by buying dinner. Schnitzel and pork never tasted so good.
Here is a link to the route. And here is a little more information.
So the end result is this:
We have about a week and some change to go on our trip.
I’ll get a new camera when I get home.
In the meantime, I will do what I can with this phone (which, I remind you, is not a camera) and so you will all just have to tolerate the photos on my blog.
The lesson learned?
Use smaller 2 and 4 Gig cards, so I don’t lose so many photos in one drop.
As for today:
I have to say this was the best single day of the trip so far. The climbing was spectacular, I bagged two good peaks, and we all had a lot of fun.
I lost the camera, but it is true, sheiße geschehen, and what can you do but shrug and climb on?