Just a few observations from hiking in the Austrian Alps.
These mountains are incredibly beautiful, and they are well taken care of. There are signs throughout that refer to the importance of keeping the natural environment as pristine as possible for future generations. In countries where history is living memory, rather than where is thought of as “old” or “outdated” there is a better sense of continuity among the generations, including those not yet born. There is also a genuine sense of gratitude for the gifts the natural world provides. Small unobtrusive thank you shields are hung on trees often right by a spectacular panoramic view, and benches, one is even called the “Gott sei Dank” (Thank God) bench, are placed throughout the region below scree and karst cliffs to help hikers enjoy their time in mountains and foster reflection amid action.
As this is a land that has a deep respect for art, sculptures that fit in with the landscape grace many of the ski resort slopes in the summer. In Schladming there is one that is called “The Site of Reflection” and is based on the intersection of two open crosses, building a connection between the natural and spiritual worlds. On the Schmittenhohe various carved animals peak out from hollows reminding one of the connection between the species and spheres.
This is not to say that all is peaceful. The mountains always have their own hazards, avalanches in the winter, landslides in the summer and on the Alm, crazy cows. These are not the calm cud-chewing moo-cows of the California ads, but Alm-kuehe who know that this is their territory and those of us on two legs are just passing through – that is if they don’t block the path for us. But patience is truly a virtue and if one just waits long enough even this very large sharp-horned obstacle will get bored and meander on to other meadows.
Some of the changes appear more permanent than others. Ruins of early medieval castles dot the lower hills, remnants of huts caught through the ravages of snow and storms in the higher elevations, and perhaps most strikingly is the change in the amount of snow, or rather lack thereof, on the glaciers. In the Natural History Museum in Vienna there are illustrations and graphs showing the dramatic decline of the glaciers, but even these pictures, as vivid as they are, don’t have the emotional impact that personally experiencing the difference does. I used to love skiing on the glaciers in summer with my dog Pia running alongside me, yet on the Kitzsteinhorn now July skiing is a fraction of what it was 30 years ago, and it isn’t even possible on the Dachstein. Yet, as with all things, as changes occur people adapt. On the Dachstein they have built a “hanging bridge” over the side of the cliff and a small “sky walk” platform. The gondola takes young and old up the mountain so that everyone can be inspired by the endless views of waves of ridges from the Czech Republic to Slovakia.
The languages of those countries are also carried on the winds through the voices of hikers from those and other countries who are visiting the area. Nepali is also spoken in a number of the Almhütten, especially in those which have Tibetan/Nepali Prayer flags hanging from the rafters. It seems that a fair number of trekking guides come to Austria to work in the mountain huts as cooks and household help from June to early October, which is the best time to hike in Austria and the worst time in Nepal as the monsoons make the routes impassible. Hybrid and sythesis, the basis of our global economy.
One thing that hasn’t changed, and I hope never will, is the generosity and friendliness of the people who live in these mountains. Yesterday while waiting for the bus from the mountain back to Schladming, four exhausted hikers appeared. They were probably in their early 20s and could well have been university students. They had started their hike two days earlier, had left their car in Hallstatt and had wanted to do a two (not three) day high country tour, but somehow (& it is very easy to do!) missed the right route and ended up by a sheer cliff, then had to back-track and again missed the trail and ended up on the wrong mountain. They had only a chocolate bar and an apple left to eat and no money for the bus or a way from Schladming to Hallstatt, which is a considerable distance around a large karst massive. As everyone talks with one another, when the hikers relayed their story a couple of other people waiting for the bus immediately offered to pay the young people’s fares as anyone could have been in their position (& at E9.10 pr. person it’s an expensive bus!). This sense of community among strangers is something the people in many mountain regions share, but the sense of humor that the Austrians have is unique. Sometimes it seems abrupt or sharp, but it is intended as a way to engage in conversation and not to be taken personally or seriously. Maybe living so close to the wind, rain, snow, and sun, and the blessings and hazards of each, makes one thankful for what one has and fosters a talent to laugh at our foibles.
