Lechweg – Walking Through Austria
Posted Tuesday 4th February 2025
Contents
- Starting On High
- The Post Bus Strategy
- Walking Alone
- Hangebrucke Day
- Valley Walking
- Saved By The Post Bus
- Walking Into A Change Of Character
- Saving Our Feet
- International Walking
- End Note
While in Fussen in 2012 we noticed that a new long distance walking route, the Lechweg, was due to be opened on 21st June of that year. This was the first formal recognition of it as a long distance through route. As such we thought it might be a good one for us, and so it came to be that we were heading to Lech (the town) on first day of the summer season in 2013.
Starting On High
We had arrived at the summer solstice (our fourth in a row without a winter solstice intervening) and the official beginning of summer, at least in the alpine part of Europe. We took a train from Basel a bit after 08·00 which despite being entirely in Switzerland was a German train. This took us to Zurich to connect with an Austrian train which was running through to Budapest (Hungary), but because of trackwork it ran via a completely novel route through Switzerland. Our destination was in Austria, only around 40 minutes beyond the Swiss border at St Anton am Arlberg.
At the latter we connected with the post bus, which cheerfully recognised our Eurail pass for the short but mountainous journey to Lech. The road uphill from St Anton was not very wide and had a steep cross slope to deal with. Not a long way out a motor bike ahead of us went belly up so we stopped to give assistance to the wounded but conscious rider. In a matter of minutes the first emergency services arrived, themselves on motorbikes. Apart from tending to the wounded they also had to manage two way traffic on the remaining single traffic lane, which they did very sensibly and ably despite some hairy moments. The real ambulance and police arrived soon after allowing us to continue after around 15 minutes delay.
However single lane working through avalanche shelters for roadwork added another 15 minutes delay such that our journey finished up taking twice as long as it should. We also managed to go one stop too far in Lech although the walk back distance was not great. The Tourist office quickly sorted out a hotel (Hotel Theodul) after which we were able to acquire lunch as well as explore the quite substantial town which clearly is all about skiing. Lech is around 1400 metres above sea level and even though it was the longest day of the year the air was rather bracing to put it kindly. Theodul, among other side benefits, produced a concertinaed laminated map of the Legweg which is by far the best walking map we have had, albeit we later noted that in several places the map and reality disagreed.
Exploring Lech. The river here is only 14 km from its source and is rather exuberant.
The hotel, as seems common in Alpine areas does a half board – dinner, bed and breakfast – which made things a lot easier from our point of view. Our first night started around 19·00 with aperitifs in the lounge followed by a five course set meal – a selection from the salads bar, flat leaf garlic soup, noodles with miniature mushrooms, a pork main dish followed by white cheese and apricot dumpling. A veritable feast which may well add to our burden while walking (or will it simply add to our range before refuelling?).
The next morning Theodul turned on a grand buffet breakfast, despite most guests having a residual burden from the previous evening, so we were rather frugal in our choices as a result. We did a day pack (for a change) and went to the bus stop to get a route 2 bus to the top of the Lech River at Formarinsee (****see is a lake).
The bus on route 2,6 and 7 takes on walkers for Formarinsee and fishermen for Spullersee.
The bus, which runs hourly in summer, duly arrived showing routes 2, 6, and 7 – truly multi function stuff. With a good passenger load on board we set off to the right over the river and up the narrow road toward Zug (around 3 km) where the road became even narrower such that opposing traffic, what little there was, had a hard time passing. The bus in fact had to wait for its opposite number at the road equivalent of a crossing loop. The clearance for the bus on some corners and bridges was measurable in millimetres which reinforced our observation that bus drivers in Austria have skills we have no knowledge of.
Somewhere beyond Zug (which was the end of civilisation as we understand it) deep in a forest we met another bus – ours was taking fishermen to Spullersee while we and most others were walkers who wanted to go to Formarinsee, which meant just about everyone changing to the second bus. In the fullness we arrived at the top of an old glacial moraine at the head of a huge glacial valley at around 1860 metres elevation. At this point we were well above the tree line in the bottom of drifting cloud which gave the whole place a rather surreal atmosphere.
Up on the moraine looking toward the rest of the day.
The surrounding mountains were steep, abounding with washout gullies and avalanche slopes, some still with mounds of snow left from last winter. We in fact had to negotiate several of these snow field remnants during the day.
From where we parted company with the bus there was a walk of several hundred metres to the actual Formarinsee – a circular crater-like lake at the very head of the valley wreathed in swirls of mist and cloud with great slashes of water running off the mountainsides to it. A wonderful place but not one to tarry in – the temperature was definitely rather single digit. The walk in passed the remnant of a large avalanche that still was maybe a metre deep. The ski fields back home would be more than satisfied to have that depth of cover at any time in the winter.
Formarinsee wreathed in mist – a magical place.
Residual snow from an avalanche.
The start of the Lechweg was marked by a large bronze ibex at the high point on the moraine.
The bronze Ibex watches over Sue while she negotiates a residual snow drift.
The track meandered downhill from there through rock strewn alpine meadows for some distance until we came to a number of springs which were the very beginning of the Lech River – presumably fed by aquifers from the Formarinsee.
Beginning of the Lech River – springing from the rocks back up the slope.
The various trickles quickly formed up into the youthful river which even at this stage it was rather exuberant and noisy, crashing its way down periodic cascades and waterfalls in the relatively steep descent that marks its early life.
The track kept close by although at times it was more or less hewn from the underlying rock. As we dropped beneath the cloud the view down the valley just grew and grew. Other walkers ahead of us became mere specks in the landscape as they forged onward. We on the other hand found this to be the ideal place for slow walking, the art of just enjoying ambling along and soaking up the magnificence of our surrounds.
Initially other walkers were in sight as we headed downstream.
But in time they left us behind as we slow walked our way along.
The valley floor was littered with unfamiliar flowers – some in little isolated outcrops among the rocks and other creating great meadows of colour. Cascades tumbled from the valley walls, in some cases through remnant snow drifts, while the upper ramparts remained wreathed in cloud. As we descended trees started to close in on the valley floor, but unlike home these were conifers, providing yet another interesting variation in the terroir.
In time we dropped below the tree line as well as into a minor gorge.
Periodic cascades meant steep tracks.
Approaching the road where we swapped sides.
Around four kilometres from the start the track exchanged sides with the road and soon after entered a section where the river had cut a small gorge in the floor of valley. The track became considerably rougher until for a few hundred metres it was on a timber board walk hanging off the gorge wall, a somewhat daunting location given the churning river not far below.
The track starts to get a bit all over the place.
Sue on the rather spectacular cantilevered walkway that was the final piece of the Lechweg.
A different perspective.
Max follows the pebble path past a fisherman.
In time the valley widened, the river gained a relative degree of placidity and the walking track became relatively benign and even grew to become a set of set of wheel tracks in places, albeit closed to cars but not cows.
The place was alive with the Sound of Music.
Meeting the locals.
Zug was bypassed on the opposite bank and not long after the waiter who had served us lunch yesterday came running past from behind. He stopped for a chat but in fact didn’t stop – he just turned around and kept running backwards while we exchanged pleasantries. We were impressed with the Austrians and their high energy outdoor summer activity – walking, running, cycling, para-gliding and mountain climbing in daylight and sometimes by moonlight. Everybody seemed to get out and about filling in whatever they had in the way of available time.
As we approached Lech we invented our own route to avoid a rather convoluted marked route that took a long way round to our home base in the town. This was the first of many diversions we made, some of which were useful and a couple of which were a disaster.
Once we had cleaned up we went out and had a fairly substantial afternoon munchies and coffee, while much later we again had another five course dinner.
Walking distance: 16 km; elapsed time: 4h 55m
The Post Bus Strategy
A rather spectacular sunrise over a distant peak – view from our hotel window.
By now we had come to the realisation that the post bus running the length of the Lech Valley ran every hour, so was a good way to cover successive sections of the Lechweg without having to up sticks to new accommodation every night – effectively we could de-link where we walked and where we stayed to a fair extent. In this enlightened situation we added a day at the Theodul Hotel and once again only took a day pack for the 15 kilometre walk to Lechleiten.
Departing Lech through fields of flowers.
It was a pleasant sunny but cool morning which made the initial walk, through alpine flower fields, all the more enjoyable. Lech slowly dropped behind to be replaced by meadows, above which soared dramatic mountain walls decorated in places by ski lifts vertically and avalanche barriers horizontally.
Lech receeds in the distance.
Max among the locals.
Rather than the red/white/red splashes of paint that we followed yesterday we now had the Lechweg “L” (a bit like a pound symbol without the cross bars) as our guide.
The valley slowly turned into a fairly tight gorge with the meadows being overtaken by predominately conifer forest with the track shrinking from a pair of wheel tracks to a narrow walking track. Side streams cascaded down the valley walls in rather spectacular fashion, crossed by covered bridges which we realised later were to prevent them being crushed under the load of winter snow.
Forest closing in to frame distant mountain views.
We stopped for a breather at one point, only to be passed by a crocodile line of local walkers heading the opposite way and looking quite hot and bothered – we found out why when we later came across a soaring descent around the corner, which of course had been an ascent to the others. The gorge really closed in at this point such that the road on the opposite wall was probably no further horizontally than the river was nearly vertically below us. The narrow foot track clung to the gorge wall but with little protection for anyone foolish enough to step sideways – obviously not for the faint hearted.
Max above the gorge.
In time the track found a way down to the river and crossed it on a surprisingly small bridge. All very well but the 150 or so metres that we had just lost we now needed to regain to get to the village of Warth.
Sue descending with Warth on the distant ridge.
The relatively insignificant bridge, considering the nearby terrain.
Max chats with a local fisherman.
The initial climb was decidedly steep but the following zig zag route via the Lech and Krumbach valleys was quite easy and in fact a bit boring after the earlier adventure.
Just about the time we were in sight of Warth low cloud rolled in, dropping the temperature by some degrees and concealing much of the surrounding landscape.
Max approaching Warth as cloud rolls in.
By following the Lechweg signs we managed to arrive in the village opposite what looked to be a roadside feeding station – and indeed it was, for some alpine road bike event. Being without bikes we needed to find the local bar to warm up and re-hydrate, which we took our time doing.
In time we set out to cover the last 3 km or so to Lechleiten, only to have to stop and frock up in raincoats as a result of the fairly persistent drizzle that was now leaking from the cloud.
Even the rain can’t diminish the glory of the wild flowers.
The track descended to cross the Krumbach on a small suspension bridge which also happened to be where we entered the Tiroler Naturpark, something we only left when we crossed the border to Germany seven days later.
Crossing the Krumbach on a small suspension bridge was effectively crossing a border.
Contouring back up toward Gehren.
The track then ascended along a rising contour through another steep cross slope but, in this case, it was completely covered in wildflowers with Warth and its mountain as a backdrop. We stopped part way up, during a lull in the drizzle, to consume our meagre portable lunch. Where the track topped out at Gehren we found a tiny alpine village, complete with a miniscule chapel, which must have taken no more than three minutes to walk through.
The miniature chapel at Gehren.
The track became a rough road at this point and contoured around a gully to meet up with the Lechleiten road coming up from the main road much lower down in the valley. This was where we left the Lechweg for the day, dropping down to the main road to get the post bus back to Lech. The bus was more or less on time although held up later to some degree by sweat-wheelers in the bike event. The road between Warth and Lech is narrow and curved with very little room to pass opposing traffic and no guard rails or other safety devices on the downhill side – in places it was a mirror image of the ferocious slope that we had earlier encountered on the opposite side of the gorge.
Back at Lech we did our washing and had a siesta after what had turned out to be a harder day than we had anticipated. Dinner was yet another five course affair but this time our companions of the previous two nights had gone and a new small cluster of people had taken their place. We noted with a bit of concern that the weather seemed to be closing in as night fell.
Walking distance: 15 km; elapsed time: 5h 15m (Cumulative: 31 km and 10h 10m)
Walking Alone
I woke quite early to find the mountains around Lech all covered in a new dusting of snow, while Sue woke to find she had one of her sick migraines. Not a good start at all. As with the same day in 2012 (but in a quite different location) we initially hedged our bets until we were certain about Sue’s condition.
We woke to a rather different day.
In the end we caught the post bus direct to Steeg, our walking destination for the day, where we were made very welcome at the Hotel Post Steeg by a woman who had spent some months of her earlier life touring Australia in a Kombi. The road beyond where we had experienced it the afternoon before was low down in the valley and involved an avalanche shelter and a sharply curved tunnel as well as a soaring bridge for what was a seasonal road that only reopens each year on the summer solstice.
Once we had settled in the hotel Sue went straight to bed while Max mulled over the maps and guides, in the end deciding to get an early afternoon post bus back to Gehren (which had less climbing from the road to the Lechweg track) and to walk the ‘missing’ section back to Steeg. The weather was gloomy with intermittent drizzle and even a couple of short patches of what looked like sleet which, not surprisingly, meant that outdoors was cold enough to discourage standing still for any length of time. I sorted things so I didn’t have to take a pack at all, which made walking fairly briskly considerably easier.
Back on track with Warth and its avalanche defences visible opposite.
The bus duly deposited me below Gehren from where I made the short climb up to the village then repeated a kilometre or so of yesterday’s walk before getting into new territory. Initially this involved an ascending road to the village of Lechleiten, whose entry was marked by a skyline chapel. The village was something like twice the size of Gehren, taking around 5 minutes to pass through. There was absolutely no sign of life there, but the disappearance of a bunch of walkers I had earlier seen ahead of me suggested that they had retreated indoors in the village accommodation house.
A river of moss along the way before Lechleiten.
At the far side of the village the walking track became a fairly generous footway rather than a road and shortly after passed a cluster of large rocks above the track which evidently were set up for rock climbing training – possibly a summer industry for this place.
The track meandered along an undulating line more or less just below the 1600 metre contour with intermittent grand views up the Lech gorge and across to a wall of cliffs in between clusters of forest. Somewhere down below out of sight the road could be intermittently heard especially the motor bikes which seemed to regard the valley road as motor bike heaven.
Waterfall cliffs opposite with the river and road somewhere far below in between.
Given the weather I wasn’t wasting too much time and it was not long before the track turned back into a well graded but unmade road. We had been curious about the long zig zag on the map, falling some 400 metres down to the wider and more benign valley at Steeg. We had some concern about difficult tracks such as we are familiar with in local high country, but learned fairly quickly that a zig zag route on the map normally indicated a vehicle track while straight down was a foot track. Apart from being wary of the gravel it was a fast track and of no concern in terms of difficulty at all.
Around the time the grade eased somewhat I passed through a Red Deer Gate, but it was quite unclear if it was to keep them in, keep them out, or even if they existed there at all.
The road bridge makes a fairly dramatic intrusion to the scenery.
By degrees the track dropped down to river level, well below the main road at this point, and followed then crossed the river in a fairly tight forested area. The now more or less level route took pains, as all good European foot tracks do, to avoid busy roads and head for little used routes however long that might make them.
The Lech and the Lechweg have descended 700 metres from the start, but will only descend around another 200 metres in the remaining 100 km.
Lechweg did this now that it had reached the valley floor – meandering where the cows had been before, heading back up the opposite hillside for a short section, backtracking to some degree just when Steeg came into view and generally making the last part of the day less charming than the earlier part. In the end I took a short cut back to the hotel where Sue was feeling better but far from well.
I went down to a fairly lonely dinner by myself – the majority of the dining room being taken by a bus load of ageing tourists. At this lower elevation the dinner was only four courses, the third of which was a main course buffet at which point the bus herd turned into locusts and just about stripped the lot before anyone else got near it. However, the waiter and owner took considerable pains to provide a simple tray dinner for Sue which she greatly appreciated.
Walking distance: 13·5 km; elapsed time: 2h 40m (Cumulative: 44·5 km and 12h 50m)
Hangebrucke Day
Things basically returned to normal overnight such that we were able to continue as planned. The locusts were in full flight at breakfast but we still had an entirely adequate feed prior to departing along the broader flat bottomed valley that continued almost to Germany. The mountains remained either side, still looming as high as ever with periodic glimpses up side valleys of mysterious snow shrouded spires often wrapped in swirling cloud.
Leaving Steeg in dubious conditions.
The track more or less followed along the river bank although in one place it diverged slightly to pass spectacularly close to the bottom of a large waterfall.
Sue approaching the foot of a spectacular trackside waterfall.
We made good time and covered the five km to Holzgau, past more than a few waterfalls and cascades, in just on an hour. Holzgau village is notable for its trompe l’oeils and, from our point of view, a second morning coffee. Suitably satisfied we departed, almost into the arms of a bunch of ageing bikers – although it must be said that their cluster of Honda Goldwings with matching trailers lifted them a long way up from our normal biker stereotype.
Tromp l’oeils at Holzgau were somewhat deceiving (as always).
Honda Goldwings and matching trailers lifted these bikers way above the standards of our lot.
A pleasant but relentless climb along minor roads brought us rather suddenly to the western end of the newly completed Hangebrucke – a spectacular 200 metre long pedestrian suspension bridge that is 105 metres above the valley floor at its highest point.
The Hangebrucke is an amazing structure for a walkway.
I suspect it is as much a local tourist attraction as it is a serious part of the long distance walking route, a view which was supported by the numbers of people on and around the bridge compared to the sparse numbers we encountered elsewhere.
The walkway is of mesh construction which means you can see straight through to the world a long way below even when trying to avoid the view over the side. Clearly quite a few people were not up to it, turning back after only a short distance. For our part we thought it was one of the highlights of the whole Lechweg and spent rather longer than we should have crossing it.
The 200 metres of the Hangebrucke stands 100 metres above the valley below.
The valley below – people the size of ants.
Looking back from the far side.
The bridge looked down at the village we had just left on one side and on the other had a sensational dark and brooding view up the valley to masses of mountains wreathed in cloud and dotted with snow drifts. Pedestrians in the valley below were mere ants slowly making their way along map like roads.
In time we moved on, following a track that contoured fairly consistently along the open hillside with tremendous views up and down the Lech valley – so much so that at one stage, near where we had lunch, we could see both Steeg, where had spent last night, and Bach, where we were intending to spend our next, from the one spot.
One of several cascades that crossed our path along this section.
From our lunch spot we had a long range view back up the valley over Holzgau to Steeg.
We meandered in and out of patches of forest, past cascades off the mountain sides and by degrees back down to river level.
A bit of shelter on the way back down to the valley floor.
By now it was getting on a bit so the navigator in chief decided to take a short cut along the river to our chosen hotel – the Alpenhotel Benglerwald. He had noticed a location with a similar name on the map but he knew better, which is why we found ourselves a kilometre past the hotel and 100 metres lower than where we would have been if the navigator was not so obtuse. So off we went up a steep sealed road with little to offer pedestrians in what was now drizzle looking for where we would have been half an hour prior if the navigator in chief had just ignored his ring of determination.
In time we tottered up to the hotel and in the front door to find it completely empty. Not a soul was to be found anywhere although the radio was on in the kitchen broadcasting to half a dozen tempting looking deserts and some makings for salads. I suppose we could have simply allocated our own room but we had no idea where the room keys were or what other surprises might ensue if we did. We camped at the front door having a bit of a rest when a little yellow car went past with a rather startled look from the driver. A minute or so later the front door opened and Karl introduced himself with the memorable “Ah, you must be Stafford”. And so, we gained a room, the times of dinner and breakfast and a place to wash and expire for a few hours.
Placid view from the Benglerwald once we had gained entry.
We went down around 18·30 to find we and four Belgians were the total complement for the night. Karl did the lot – ran the bar, cooked the meals, waited, cleaned up, presumably washed up and even set out the non perishables for breakfast while we consumed our quite pleasant and ample four course meal.
One thing that made our walking that bit more enjoyable was tolling of bells – bells ringing the hour, calling to worship, ringing the rounds, chiming the school times or for all I know announcing the imminent arrival of the post bus. Particularly after Steeg we had this cheerful accompaniment at intervals all the way for the next five days. The valleys were certainly alive with the sound of bells.
Walking distance: 15 km; elapsed time: 5h 15m (Cumulative: 59·5 km and 18h 05m)
Valley Walking
Breakfast was a fairly simple affair, once again managed as a solo effort on the part of Karl. We were not in a great hurry to depart even though this was a long day (by our standards) since striding out into drizzle was not all that enticing. In the end we set out via the same route we had come in the previous day to avoid what we assumed would be a fairly muddy and steep track.
We diverted into Bach village, unsuccessfully looking for the Bakerei, getting supplies at the miniature supermarket (a micro-market – about the size of an average lounge room), and having a second morning coffee.
A rather interesting bridge entering Bach.
It wasn’t until around 10·00 that we finally set off along the river bank toward Elmen, still some 16 km or so away and our destination for the night. The first five kilometres or so was a pleasant stroll along the river bank, bypassing the regional town of Elbigenalp.
The yellow signs were useful but the arrows inscrutable.
The valley view was accompanied by a rather ethereal backdrop of misty alpine spires reaching to considerable heights.
Soon after we ascended on a cart track for some distance, only to return to the river on a narrow and steep walking track above a field of what looked to be anti-tank fortifications but in fact turned out to be avalanche defences.
This field of tank traps turned out to be avalanche defences.
This rather angry looking octopus had nothing to explain its existence.
At Griessau we crossed the river on the road bridge and followed down the opposite bank until we reached Haselgehr, a small village which had a handy seat looking across the river to the church, where we halted for lunch. A feature of this section had been a number of cable stayed footbridges with ornate wooden ‘sails’ that looked very like escaped segments of the Sydney Opera house.
The Sydney Opera House would seem to have cloned these bridges.
The river, by now a very substantial affair, had periodic mysterious cairns scattered along its shore.
We yet again ascended on a rustic track, passing an energetic cascade along the way which took us to a steep walking track that was the closest thing to bushwalking tracks that we are familiar with that we had met thus far in Europe.
This met up with a forestry road through pleasant forest (the loggers in Europe don’t clearfell – they take trees selectively which leaves the forest largely intact) which continued slowly upward until it suddenly ended in a rather steep and wild place. We had some difficulty in finding the ongoing Lechweg, which at this point was partially submerged under a mass of conifer detritus.
Conifer detritus and a steep descent made route finding rather fraught at this point.
It descended straight down the mountainside and in fact doubled as a minor waterway which made it quite treacherous, even more so as a result of periodic churning that the loggers had left.
Even without the detritus the path was slippery and hard to manage.
In time we came out on a respectable unmade cart track which contoured comfortably to Klimm, a cluster of a few houses nestled just above the river flats. At this point we left Lechweg, crossed the river on a charming covered footbridge, did a left turn at another of those tiny chapels and wandered the last kilometre or so to the village where a hotel was waiting.
At this miniature chapel we had to make a left turn to get to Elmen and more importantly our hotel.
Having discovered that our next day destination was free of accommodation we decided that the post bus strategy was again called for, although a language barrier made organising the extra night at Elmen a somewhat epic event, even with assistance from an ancient who was dragged away from the bar to help.
Dinner was confusing – we were uncertain if it was a ‘half board’ thing with some free choices or a la carte – but we never-the-less enjoyed minestrone, a gratuitous frittata from the chef, jagerschnitzel and for one of us ice cream with hot raspberry sauce. In anticipation of the morrow, we later searched out the bus stop and a micro-market as part of a brief exploration of the village, predictably in the opposite direction to that in which we started to look.
Walking distance: 18·5 km; elapsed time: 6h 45m (Cumulative: 78 km and 24h 50m)
Saved By The Post Bus
We took some time getting organised for a day pack outing, after which we enjoyed the more than adequate breakfast before stocking up with lunch makings and heading back from whence we had come until we were again on the Lechweg.
The covered bridge that joined Elmen to the Lechweg.
The map indicated that the track followed the contours for a couple of km before rising sharply, but in reality, it was quite the reverse. Initially it did follow a contour or two, albeit not in any sort of straight line, but then really took to ascending using zig zags and a couple of quite airy rocky sections to get over the top of a cliff, after which it meandered along in a delightfully easy woodland alignment.
A bit of climbing to get over a cliff line.
The map indicated we would finish up near the top of a local chairlift, but the track eschewed such frivolities and headed down on a pleasant winding forest road through some of the most delightful woodland and out into wildflower meadows.
Wild flower meadows decorated the foreground while the mountains backdropped the setting.
It lead in to the village of Vorderhornbach (Hornbach being the local watercourse). This charming place suggested itself as a good place for a bit of a respite so that is what we did.
Vorderhornbach was a good place for a bit of relaxation.
From there Lechweg basically followed a line across the flat cultivated terraces above the river until we again rejoined it and followed through until we reached a restful riverside lunch spot with a covered picnic table.
one of the more dramatic mountains that were visible from the valley.
Just as well, as it began to rain soon after our arrival and continued until we were ready to depart – the first of a succession of near misses with rain.
Our covered lunch spot before the rain came.
It was at this point we were overtaken by a couple we had seen on the very first day up at Formarinsee, perhaps indicating that we were not on our own in doing the long walk. The Tourist people in Lech told us they didn’t know of any Australians who had done the whole walk, but I would be a bit wary of claiming that we were the first.
The river had been progressively growing in volume but it wasn’t until after our lunch stop that it started to braid in what was by now a very wide riverbed of glacial rubble. It was only a bit under an hour to Forchach but in that time we came across several places where the river had simply washed out the bank where the track used to be – although in every case it was fairly easy to wander through the scrubby riverside vegetation until the track reappeared.
Washed away walking track – bush-bashing sorted this out.
Our arrival at Forchach was well before the post bus was due but the gods of walking had seen fit to position a bar a short distance before the bus stop, so we were able to re-hydrate and occupy time in a useful manner. The bus, which was towing a trailer of bicycles, arrived pretty much on the advertised which was fortunate since there was quite a heavy downpour almost as soon as we were aboard.
On the trunk road there was little to worry about but on the old road through Vorderhornbach and arriving into Elmen there was hardly room for the bus let alone opposing traffic – we had to slow or stop numerous times to let opposing traffic past. In the villages clearances were measurable in centimetres both sides which yet again highlighted the rather different conditions that bus drivers in the Lech Valley have to deal with. We were back in the hotel at Elmen around 15·00 which allowed for the inevitable siesta prior to dinner – in this case Max had the ‘menu’ while Sue had Shinglebrot then trout off the a la carte menu.
Walking distance: 15 km; elapsed time: 4h 40m (Cumulative: 93 km and 29h 30m)
Walking Into A Change Of Character
We, along with three others who had been in the hotel, caught the 09·20 post bus, in our case for a relatively short return run to Forchach. In this we cheated slightly going to the middle of the village and thus avoiding a small amount of distance for our trouble. We joined the Lechweg at another much smaller hangebrucke across the Lech River which we needed only as a way marker.
The Forchach hangebrucke was much smaller than the Holzgau version but had a more serious purpose.
The track followed the line of the river but largely remote from the watercourse which lost somewhere out in the now quite vast flood plain. Despite this there were another couple of washouts where the track disappeared into space, leaving us to be fairly creative for short distances. In a reasonably short time, we crossed the river on a large road bridge then followed a most convoluted track that only the most devilish of walking track creators could have devised. In fact, we realised what the track creators were up to so invented our own far less demanding route into the reasonably substantial town of Wiessenbach.
The Lech was by now a very substantial river.
There we found a shiny new 21st century caffe, in the shadow of a far older church, which did a quite acceptable second morning coffee. In fact morning tea celebrated the fact that we had just passed the 100 km point on our walk. We had been expecting to replenish our supply of Panadol (or their local equivalent) here, but it turned out that there is no chemist, rather the doctor sells a basic range of drugs. The only problem was that the doctor was not home, which meant we rather wasted energy and time achieving very little.
Once again we crossed the river but this time we followed a trail up onto an elevated terrace which eventually ran us through the small but quite attractive village of Rieden, although its attraction was diminished to some extent by the hard sealed road on which we now found ourselves.
The village of Reiden was a typically pretty little place spoiled to a degree by the sealed road we had to walk on.
My left foot and Sue’s knees were by this stage of the walk starting to complain which progressively made the day a considerable trudge. The road, in time, descended back down to near the river and in so doing passed a significant rock cliff that had been set up for rock climbing. Just in case you were interested there was a row of park bench seats on the opposite side of the road for spectators, although there was nothing happening when we went past.
The walking route took up a riverside location where the river had come back together as a single channel in a long straight section. Unfortunately, nearby there were significant road works which had flattened much of the vegetation and left great mounds of moraine detritus everywhere. To add to our discomfort, unlike many of the earlier sections of the track, there were no seats or picnic benches at which we could have lunch. In the end we simply camped on a suitable part of the river bank to partake, while large numbers of walkers, runners and cyclists, who had hitherto been largely unseen, passed us by.
Lunch on the river bank – a pleasant place but a bit hard on the sitting department.
It was obvious that the more remote and rustic parts of the walk had dropped behind us with main roads and built-up environment now being dominant. We even had light aircraft from a hidden airstrip nearby periodically churning up out of a wall of scrub.
After lunch we struggled on, being rather disinterested in the place we now found ourselves in and suffering with our failing feet and knees. In such circumstances we just kept on, all the time hoping to find an end to our day’s effort just around the corner – which of course it was not. The track turned away from the river at Hofen, and it was somewhere along this section that we lost it altogether, finding ourselves on broken ground among a lot of weeds and fallen timber. It was evident that we were not the first to go this way but by following faint tracks (little more than bent weeds) we eventually came to rights.
The river was now in a long straight channel.
Our destination was a hotel in Waengle and at this point we realised the village church was visible off to our right (like 90 degrees from where we were heading). With some trepidation, in case we were setting ourselves up for another Benglerwald event, we departed the Lechweg and took to a local road. In time, and rather painfully, we limped past the church to find our destination right there – the Gasthof Kroll.
We were a bit delayed checking in while the owners completed a segment for their Tirol TV cooking show, but it didn’t matter since we were under cover when the inevitable rain turned up not all that far behind us. As far as we were concerned this had been the least interesting and enjoyable walking day so far, and with hind sight could have profitably been avoided altogether if only we had known.
In view of my increasingly troublesome foot (it later turned out to have a stress fracture) we made an executive decision to have an off track quiet day on the morrow and take a direct route down to Reutte (by far the biggest town we would meet in Austria) then on to Pflach (“flack”) for the night. This avoided around 10 km of Lechweg, some of which looked to be interesting but demanding on its high route around the urban areas hereabouts, trading it for half that distance of flat road and path walking in the hope of preserving sufficient condition to walk over the mountains and international border on the Sunday.
Dinner was definitely a la carte and despite our experience checking in it seems that the hotel (which took credit cards) and the onsite restaurant (which only took cash) were two separate entities. We had what to some might seem the antithesis of Austrian dining – a cheesy pasta for Sue and mixed grill for Max but, just as in the Vezere, we had tired of the local cuisine during our eight days on the Lech and were more than willing to take any alternative.
Walking distance: 18 km; elapsed time: 4h 50m (Cumulative: 111 km and 34h 20m)
Saving Our Feet
A slow start day, which was just as well since it began raining quite heavily just as we finished breakfast. By the time we walked out the door around 09·40 the rain had contracted to a steady drizzle which we could handle quite comfortably with our wet weather gear. The walk down to Reutte took less than an hour and we then filled in quite a bit of time acquiring a few things, having coffee, trying to organise a room in Fussen (only 20 km away but couldn’t be done by Information since it was in another country), having a pizza lunch made by a chubby and cheerful multi-lingual Italian, having a look through a small local museum (which was featuring the coming centenary of the Reutte – Garmish railway), extracting a few more Euros then walking the remaining 3 km or so to Pflach.
Our multi-lingual Italian pizza man delivering lunch.
Notably all the roads we walked this day had footpaths or cycle-ways where we could stroll along safe from marauding traffic. The hotel was in the middle of the village sandwiched between the old main road and simple Austrian Railway station (which was served by German diesel railcars), and more importantly for us it was right beside the Lechweg as it set out over the hills to Germany. As we have become accustomed to, we had hardly arrived at the hotel when the rain again teemed down – the third day in a row we missed getting drenched by a matter of minutes. The official Lechweg distance to this point was 111 km but with our various additional wanderings and side tracks we estimated we had covered 117 km to this point, today’s short cut included.
Walking distance: 6 km; elapsed time: 1h 15m (Cumulative: 117 km and 35h 35m)
International Walking
The last day of the last walk – a day to savour. Despite being Sunday, we were breakfasted, packed and off out the door by 08·30 in deference to the need to climb nearly 300 metres to the German border.
The start of our final day was in fact a level crossing.
Initially the track followed open fields and minor roads until it reached the forests that cloaked all the mountains hereabouts. The ancient, fortified ruin of Sternschanze, perched on a commanding knoll, marked the point where we left civilisation as we had become accustomed to it and headed into the hills.
Plodding up the long climb to the German border.
The track followed reasonable forestry roads, constantly upwards, past occasional dwellings and periodic stacks of cut wood waiting to be collected for winter fuel. The forest progressively closed in and evidence of mechanised mankind faded as we ascended, to a summit of sorts deep in a dense woodland. It was not a clear summit so much as a dark and damp saddle with soft underfoot walking on thick forest detritus – good for feet which complain too much! Despite the feeling of remoteness, the yellow fingerboard signs periodically pointed the way, and it was at one of these that the track diverted off onto a muddy foot track. At the same place there was a bench seat so we availed of its service for a bit of a break – after all we were about to go international. While we were there a deer came trotting past and it is debatable as to which, the deer or Sue, got the bigger surprise.
The bench and the sign – about to go international.
We set out somewhat cautiously along the gently falling muddy track, wondering quite where Austria ended and Germany started when we came across a small concrete plinth, half buried in undergrowth which apparently was the international border. There was no visible difference on the ground either side and in fact there was no indication in which direction the border went from the plinth. All very casual and unassuming. I suppose we could have showed our passports to the trees, just in case, but we were in the EU so such things no longer matter.
The border – or at least that is what we assumed it to be.
The mud continued into Germany until we came to a small cliff which had a steep rock shelf protected by a chain handhold as the route down to more tractable terrain.
Descending in Germany through dark but delightful forest –
– past several sizable cliffs.
From there on the track meandered relatively gently down through open woodland past several sizable cliffs down to Alpsee – the lake that has King Ludwig’s fabulous Neushwanstein and the earlier Hohenschwangau castles reflected in its waters. Lake side seemed like a good place to have a first morning lunch so we did.
Alpsee can be completely circumnavigated on a mainly water level walking track, but since the water level had risen a tad, sections of the track were now either awash or submerged. The good bit about walking is that creating an alternative higher level route, however temporary, works just fine, although in one case it did require the skill of Tarzan to hang out rather precariously over the flooded path.
Both the Ludwig castles – Hohenschwangau (left) and Neuschwanstein (right) are reflected in the still waters of Alpensee.
At one point we came across a bloke from Brisbane who is a regular winter visitor to the Austrian snowfields but only an occasional summer visitor where we were. Whilst waiting (futilely) for the sun to come out a small grey snake with a yellow head slithered past and out onto a log in the lake – the only snake we have seen in all our European travels. Having covered around three km of Alpsee shoreline we doubled back onto a forested contour track well above Schwansee (Swan Lake) which was for us the final stretch. This area is riddled with popular walking tracks and consequently we were now rarely on our own.
We stopped somewhat short of the end, in a forest glade, to have the rest of our meagre lunch during which time we had an interesting conversation with a passing German couple who then went on ahead. In the mean time we had noted a yellow finger that suggested Lechfall was a mere 5 minutes away via a shortcut (compared to the proper 25 minutes) so in our state of physical decline we chose the direct version, coming out in short order at the Lechfall Steakhaus right at the end of the walk.
We saw a sign …
We took on board some liquid refreshment here, including a very overdue second morning coffee. Duly fortified we set off, noting as we did so that the German couple were just arriving as we disappeared over the footbridge.
The footbridge at Lechfall is the official end of the Lechweg – we had made it!
The far side is marked as the via Claudia Augusta – part of a Roman road through the Alps and up into northern Bavaria somewhere. For all we know we may have followed more of this road than we were aware of. It didn’t take long to find our preferred hotel in Bad Fauldebach (more or less a suburb of Fussen, on the river side of the Palace) and although it was definitely more than the amount we would normally pay we felt some form of self-indulgence was justified.
My shoes were beginning to fall apart (along with my left foot) while our walking clothes needed some serious attention to make them even half adequate for the remainder of our time in Europe. Attending to the second of these matters, along with a much needed siesta, consumed most of the time until we felt the need to go out for dinner – at the Steakhaus, which was less than 400 metres away and had red meat more or less as we know it!
Walking distance: 15 km; elapsed time: 5h 20m (Cumulative: 132 km and 40h 55m)
End Note
The remaining days in Europe were spent at Fussen, Mainz, Bingen and Rudesehim prior to flying out with Lufthansa, at least as far as Singapore. From there the Jetstar flight managed to maintain the Qantas reputation for not being able to string two good trips together, providing just another experience on which to base our choice of any other airline as a better way to go.
