Steep, steeper, Innsbruck

I've written quite a bit about the two big races I did this summer - Xreid (part 1, part 2) and UTMR 100k (part 1, part 2), but now I want to tell you about what happened in between. Check out The Ridge and Back to my roots as well!

"We got married!" exclaimed Mia, a good friend of mine who has spent all her spare time and money for the last decade travelling the world to climb. She had just decided to settle in Innsbruck, taking a PhD position at the university. I had decided to take the opportunity to kick off my summer of vert in by hitting up Innsbruck.

Upon arriving in the city, my meager services as a wedding photographer were called upon. Mia and Phil had eloped the week previous, and had no pictures in their wedding close. So we drove up into the mountains, and the two climbing dirtbags changed into full Tyrolean costume for a photo sesh.

Mia in wedding costume.

Not wanting to waste any time, the photo sesh morphed into a hike up a local peak called Serles. It was early evening, but the shadows were welcome since Innsbruck, like so much of Europe, was engulfed in a heat wave.

Mia and Phil took hiked hard, and joked about wanting to reach the peak before the ultrarunner. I was happy to chat and catch up with Mia, who I don't see nearly often enough.

Phil, Mia and I on the top of Serles

The light was low when we reached the summit, although upon descended it seemed we were early - apparently it was in vogue to watch the sunset from the top!

(Strava)

Mia descending from Serles.

The next day, Mia took the morning off to hike with me. I'll admit I was rather surprised at first when she suggested that I pack a via ferrata set for the hike. I have some stories from days of yore about Mia's ideas of what an easy hike are, so I should probably have been more suspicious. Still, I dutifully brought the via ferrata set along with some snack and water in my running pack and ran through the city to catch the cable car up to the Nordkette ridge that towers above Innsbruck.

The iconic waterfront of Innsbruck, with the Nordkette ridge towering above.

As the reader might have already guessed, Mia's hike was in fact a via ferrata route traversing the ridge above Innsbruck. She had given me the protection, and proceeded to free solo the whole thing.

Mia on the start of our speed traverse of the via ferrata.

The route was rather exposed at times, but never difficult. I was just beginning to fathom just how steep the mountains above Innsbruck really were. Mia and I cooked along, passing slow moving groups and getting our heart rates up despite the technical terrain. This is good fun! I thought. Mia is inspiring to be with, as she doesn't make problems or excuses, but simple finds a way forward. And it's not often that I feel like the cautious, stodgy person in the group!

Steep.

The ridge was absolutely stunning, a sharp knife edge dividing Innsbruck from the surrounding terrain.

"You are so lucky to live in this place!" I exclaimed.

Descending off the via ferrata into fairytale land.

After the first section of via ferrata, Mia left to go to work (poor thing). I forged on, intended to make it to a landmark rock called Frau Hitt before dropping in to the valley behind. The via ferrata continued, and I (rather bravely!) continued along with it. It was still exposed, and I regretted taking the selfie below soon afterwards. My palms were so sweaty I struggled to put on my gloves, which protected my hands from the steel cable, again.

Not sure I actually managed to capture how steep this was. It was basically vertical all around me.

After reaching the landmark Frau Hitt, I decided to follow the trail to Mösl Alm, some thousand meters in the valley below me. The trail dropped steeply on a scree field for several hundred meters, and was very poorly marked. I grew more and more frustrated at the slow going, and decided to make a beeline for the valley when I couldn't see the trail at all.

Hating scree fields.

By the time I reached the valley, I was hot and bothered and nearly out of water. Luckily only a few transport kilometers remained before potential refreshments at Mösl Alm. As I trotted down the dirt road, I noticed a hose feeding a water trough and filled my bottles before continuing.

Mösl Alm was a quaint, very Austrian cafe, of which I have no pictures. Immediately upon sitting down to enjoy my radler (a mixture of lemonade and beer), I realized my cell phone was no longer secure in my vest pocket.

Chaos ensued, and I reran up and down to the point where the scree slope met the road, looking for my phone. Upon returning to Mösl Alm, I found the stern proprietor, dressed in full dirndl, with my cell phone in hand. What fortune! Her husband, the local farmer, had picked it up near the water trough where I had stopped earlier.

Mountain rhododendrons on the climb back up to Hafelekar.

The rest of the day consisted of a long long slog back up to the cable car. Not wanting to trash my legs further, I prudently took the cable car all 2000 vertical meters back down to Innsbruck.

(Strava)

The next day I decided to go a little further afield, and took the bus to the ski area of Axamer Lizum to explore. A long climb up an unforgiving ski slope brought me to a ridge with views of the greater Innsbruck area - and the formidable spine of mountains that tower above Axamer.

Nothing would do but I climbed one of these mountains. After traversing the ridge, I followed the signed route to Hochtennspitze. It was a trail, I reasoned, how extreme could it be? The answer a vertigo-inducing, barely-there trace that wound its way up to the peak.

Clutching the summit rock on Hochtennspitze.

I descended back to the main trail, and began to follow it around the valley towards Birgitzer Alm, with radler on my mind. My right foot had begun to hurt, an echo of some pain I had developed in the later stages of Xreid. I believed it was an inf lammed tendon that had been agitated by the quick laces on my Salomon shoes. However, whenever I feel foot pain my mind goes straight to stress fracture and I panic a little. I hoped a radler would make it go away.

The radler bolstered my mood but didn't fix my foot. I decided it was high time for a rest day anyway. It was the weekend now, and Mia and Phil were headed to Zillertal to climb. I bought a map of the area to pour over, and nestled in on a sandy bar along the river than wound through Ginzling to take a rest day.

Radler on a sandy bar. I also managed to lose two soft flasks that I put to cool in the river that day.

A whole day with nothing but relaxing with a map bred crazy ideas. Not quite sure what I was getting myself into, I packed my running vest and followed a trail out of Ginzling up the Gunggital valley. A layer clouds blanketed the upper part of the valley, but it was due to receed, and it seemed to do so, shrinking away from me as I climbed.

Near the top of Gunggtal valley

The trail grew rougher and wilder as I approached the Melkerscharte pass and the shifting clouds revealed the sharp peak of Zsigmondyspitze above me. I was glad of my poles as I cautiously traversed a snow field.

The clouds just revealing Szigmondyspitze.

From the top of the pass, a new world opened at my feet. Tumbling glaciers appeared across the valley. I was looking at the chain of mountains that drew the Italian bordered. I rock-hopped downhill and then picked up a smooth trail to climb to Norliche Morchnerscharte pass. 

I was a bit nervous about the next section. My map had marked it with a ladder symbol, which I took it could either indicate a full-on via ferrata or just cabled section for the faint of heart. The number of hikers on the way over the pass gave me hope that is was the latter.

From Morchnerscharte I could see my final objective for the day, a peak called Gigalitz. A deep valley lay between me and the peak. I still hadn't decided whether I would go to the top. My foot, with my shoe loosely laced, was behaving, but there were a lot of meters between me and Gigalitz.

Gigalitz. Just have to go all the way down in the valley below and all the way up to the top.

The downhill section went smoothly; the ladder section was just a series of cables on a slightly exposed trail and one lonely ladder. Once at the bottom of the valley, I decided I would go for the top of Gigalitz. I could rest tomorrow when I travelled to Cortina, I reasoned.

The first section of the climb was a grind up switchback to Greizer hutte. My poles moved in an even rhythm as I motored up the hill, feeling hot but going fast. After the hut, the going grew rougher and I stowed my poles to be able to use my hands.

Flowers on the way up Gigalitz.

I was once again shocked at how steep something marked as a hiking trail could be. Thin air or fatigue made me slightly dizzy as I approached the top at 3000 m. I met two hikers headed down who spoke excitedly in rapid Austrian German to me. Seeing my blank expression, one of them smiled and said, "Speedy Gonzalez!"

The ridgeline from the top leads all the way to Dristner. I wonder how hard the traverse is?

The view from the peak was 360 degrees of vertigo-inducing awesome. I smiled, knowing it was all downhill from here, then winced slightly when I realized it was 2000 meters of downhill from here.

On top of Gigalitz, the glaciers to Italy behind me.

The way home grew less and less rough, starting with steep scrambling, then the switchbacked trail, then a dirt road, and finally cruising the last few kilometers on pavement. Back at the car, I picked up the hard-earned radler I had stowed in the bushes and hiked up to Mia and Phil's crag. Life was beautiful, I was strong and could run far, and tomorrow I was going to the Dolomites.

(Strava)

- The Wild Bazilchuk