Alpine huts, part II: Return of the Bonus Blog

Before I get to shamelessly displaying a million pictures from our hikes in the Alps this summer, Jessica demanded that I write an update to my September, 2021 post, “Bonus Blog: Huts, Rifugios, and other Alpine Hideouts.” She said the variety we experienced in our three weeks of alpine huts demanded their own consideration aside from the trails. So, here goes…

First of all, for context, our trip consisted of three separate week-long hikes. The first one was in the Italian Dolomites. We hiked a north-to-south route with Jessica’s parents joining us for all but the last night on the trail. After we left the Tafts behind, we headed north to Austria and spent a week hiking in the Alps north of Innsbruck. Finally, our last trip was in the Alpstein region near Appenzell, Switzerland. All were wonderful, and there are oh-so-many photos of each trip coming soon, promise.

Of course, that variety of countries and landscapes means that the places we stayed had a pretty massive range in terms of the level of luxury, style, location, etc. The main thing they all had in common was great views. These are tourist spots, so, naturally, they’re built in some of the prettiest spots in the mountains.

I don’t want to repeat what I’ve already written (go read the old post if necessary), so I’ll try to see what I can add that’s new and different.

One thing I didn’t really mention last time was density. In some areas, there are huts everywhere and in others, it takes all day to hike from one hut to the next. The main variation seems to revolve around accessibility. In places that are closer to roads or cable cars, the number of huts is much higher, often with several crowded right around the most easily accessible spot and several others a few mile hike down the trail. At first, I thought this was only true in the Dolomites, where the start of our hike was very sparsely populated, but became much more crowded with huts as we crossed a major road and then later got to an area (Alpe di Siusi/Seiser Alm) serviced by multiple lifts and roads. When we started hiking in Austria, we found the distance between huts to be much greater, but that distinction disappeared when we got to the area near the Zugspitze and there were huts piled on top of one another with a network of roads, trails, and cable cars connecting them. Similarly, the more rugged parts of the Alpstein in Switzerland had fewer huts, but the lower elevation sections where roads reached and the parts closest to the chairlifts down to the valleys all had many more. In each of these areas there were even places where there were two huts built basically next door to each other like Rifugios Vajolet and Preuss seen here…

This photo also reminds me of another difference between some of the huts. Most of them are privately run businesses, but a handful that we’ve stayed in have been run by the Alpine Clubs of the various countries. Most of the Alpine Club-run huts seem a bit more basic than the average for the privately-run huts. On this run through the Dolomites we stayed in two Alpine Club huts, Schluterhutte and Rifugio Vajolet. Both were fine, but a few things stood out: there were few outlets for charging phones, the dining rooms were crowded and loud, and the whole place was a beehive of activity the entire time we were there.

The photo on the left was at Vajolet. It was crowded. The one on the right was at Karwendelhaus, another Alpine Club hut — this one in Austria. It may look less crowded, but the photo would be fooling you. It was perhaps the most chaotic place I’ve stayed in recent memory.

We arrived at Karwendelhaus after several hours of drenching rain, as did the hundred or so other folks staying the night there. This meant that there was a bit of an overflow in the “drying room.” These are rooms set aside for drying clothes and shoes. Many have racks of dryers for shoes (often seen in ski areas) and hangers or clotheslines for jackets and such, with some sort of air circulation system. But at Karwendel, with way too many people, far too little space, and altogether too much rain outside, the drying room was basically a swamp. I had to take my glasses off because it was so steamy. Our clothes were not dry in the morning.

Of course, one of the nicest places we stayed was a Swiss Alpine Club hut. We were a little worried about what Zwinglipasshutte would hold for us. Before we arrived, all we knew was that it was a club-run hut, that their food was delivered by a massive volunteer brigade hiking it in early in the summer, and that, therefore, visitors should “bring your own bread.” They said they had jam and such for breakfast, but you needed to have your own bread to put it on. This sounded like it was going to be very basic accommodations.

We were very wrong. Zwinglipasshutte had been recently updated and expanded. The rooms were comfortable and clean and there were plenty of outlets for charging devices. There was even bread available for those who hadn’t brought their own.

Actually, one of the coolest things about Zwinglipasshutte was that it was all-volunteer run. And all of those volunteers were from the valley just below the hut. They have a team from Fri-Sun and another Mon-Thurs each week. I saw the sign-up list for next summer and it was nearly full with only one duplicate name on the list. And the volunteers were great. Super-friendly and happy to tell us all about their beautiful mountains. The hut vibe was fun and chill.

This was a contrast with the other alpine club huts we had visited. Most of those seemed to be run at least partially for profit. I think some clubs basically lease the management of the hut to private individuals as long as they give a discount to club members. I’m not too sure exactly how those place work.

Many of the Alpine Club huts and a handful of others have a definitely crunchier vibe than some of the more hotel-like places we’ve stayed. For instance, at Zwinglipasshutte, we spent some time talking to a trio of mountain climbers in their late 70s (and watching them climb the mountain face not far away). On the other end of the spectrum and the other end of the Alpstein, at Berggasthaus Aescher, we were moved into a side room for dinner so that they’d have room for a pub trivia night.

Most of the people at that event took a cable car down the mountain to go home at the end of the evening, as opposed to the volunteers at Zwinglipass who hike all the food in annually. Coburgerhutte in Austria was a popular base for climbers, while Karwendelhaus was a central stop for trekkers and a popular overnight and lunchtime destination for mountain bikers. And then there were others, like the hotel right at the top of Santis (the highest peak in the Alpstein) that were all about luxury and largely lacking the chatter of outdoor adventurers.

Speaking of all that empty space, the contrast between the crowded huts and the spacious and underfilled ones was an interesting one. Most of the Alpine Club huts were packed. Some of the others were as well, but there were a number of places we stayed that were equally empty. The lovely Berggasthaus Forelle in the Alpstein was packed with people in the afternoon enjoying a drink and a view, but it was a ghost town at dinner and breakfast. One of our favorite places, Berggasthaus Tierwis combined both. We stayed there two nights in a row. The first was a Saturday night and it was absolutely jam packed with families, climbing expeditions, and fellow hikers. The next night, Jessica and I were literally the only guests. We spent the evening reading and had a nice chat with the woman who owned the hut.

Tierwis was also a nice reminder of how old some of these places are. We stayed upstairs from the dining room, and when there was a massive storm on Saturday night, the place swayed like we were in an earthquake.

Other places were much more recently constructed and firmly built. Here’s what a few of the places we stayed or passed through look like from the exterior…

Let me draw your attention to a few of those photos. First of all, the structure on top of Santis that houses the cable car and a hotel is ridiculous. It looks like a giant LEGO building. You can also see that a number of the places in Italy look fairly well constructed, even the crazy little restaurant at the top of Pass Principe. There’s just a ton of tourism there, so there’s a lot of new places and work on upkeep. You may have also noticed that Steinernes is…different. We’ll talk about that in a minute. But, while we’re talking about appearances, the one I really want to talk about is Aescher.

Aescher is probably the most famous hut in the Appenzell region. It’s not over-the-top luxurious or anything — while the dinner and breakfast were both great, we were in a pretty basic dorm room with a bunch of snoring Swiss hikers. What makes Aescher special is that it is built right into the side of a cliff. And I don’t just mean that it’s up against the cliff — the cliff is literally the back wall of the place. Take a look at our dorm room.

And it was like that throughout. In the dining room, hallway, bathroom, etc. Definitely a unique place.

Speaking of dorm rooms, I feel I should at least mention beds. As I’ve said, some of the places we stayed are basically hotels — varying in quality, but with amenities like actual beds, private bathrooms, and the like. On the other end, many places stuff a ton of hikers into matratzenlagers, which sometimes translates as “mattress storage.” These matratzenlagers are usually attic-level rooms with rows of narrow mattresses under the eaves on both sides with a narrow aisle down the middle. In other places, dorm rooms had anywhere from 4 to 16 beds. And a number of “private rooms” had a couple of single beds and a shared bathroom down the hall. So…variety!

You may also notice that the matratzenlagers and dorms tend to just have blankets and uncovered pillows. For these, you are supposed to bring a sleep sheet. Ours are very tiny silk bundles (about the size of a softball) that are like very light sleeping bags made with a pouch to stuff the pillow in. You climb in there and toss the provided blankets on top and it’s quite comfortable and clean (except for the grossness you brought to bed already on your body).

One of the funkiest matratzenlagers was at Steinerneshutte. Steinernes was…unique. [This place was really why Jess said I had to write this post.] The hut wasn’t on our original route through Austria, but when we had a hard time getting reservations at the places we wanted to go, and then trouble finding openings at our backups, we turned to the backup to the backups, Steinernes.

It was hard to tell from the information we found on the web what to expect. Jessica was pretty convinced we would basically be sleeping in someone’s barn. That was about half right. Steinernes was a little shepherd’s mountainside hut that someone had added onto with a tiny attic space that had mattresses for a total of nine visitors. There was a dining room that could maybe hold 6 people, so that basically meant we spent our waking hours at the couple of picnic tables outside. Luckily, it wasn’t raining.

The place was incredibly simple. There was an outhouse and I was instructed that men should use “the nature” for peeing. Beer and soft drinks were kept cool in a trough made from a log using water from a stream nearby. And cooking was done in a very simple kitchen on a wood stove. In fact, there was no power in the place except for a tiny solar panel that was used to charge the phone of the hut-keeper.

But that hut-keeper. That’s where things got really interesting. The first thing Amrbos told us when we arrived was, “I fucked up.” He explained that he doesn’t like dealing with the hut when the place is full and he’d accidentally accepted a group of 6, forgetting that he already had the two of us and one other guy booked for the night. Despite that proclamation, he actually seemed to have a good time with all of us.

Ambros spoke English quite well. Unlike most people we met who were excited about us being from California, Ambros was a bit disinterested in that. Instead, he said he really wanted to visit the South, “to meet the rednecks.” He said this while playing country music, wearing overalls, and sporting a wild beard. I’d say he had more of an Appalachian backwoods look than a southern farmer, but…close enough. Later he got out his BB gun for us all to take target practice with (while doing shots of schnapps). Despite all of that, he was clearly much more progressive than the image he projected (pro-universal healthcare, queer-friendly, pro-immigrant, etc.). He wandered in and out of the kitchen while the rest of us watched a beautiful sunset and chatted about hiking.

Dinner was the simplest affair we had anywhere — a brothy soup followed by coarse bread dumplings with a mountain of sauerkraut. But it was a super-fun place and had one of the best views. I’d go back in an instant.

Oh, and Ambros kept the place hopping with his mix of German drinking songs, Johnny Cash, Snoop Dogg, Ozzy Osbourne, Simon and Garfunkel, and so much more. The scene was a bit like this:

I want to mention one more theme within huts: kitsch and character. It’s all in the eye of the beholder. While a number of huts (the more hotel-like ones) go for a sleek, modern (if a little outdoorsy) look…

…a lot of these places lean heavily on mountain-themed historical artifacts and silliness. Let me just run through a few examples.

–There were about 20 huts in the Appenzell area that participated in a “whisky trek.” Each of them had their own whisky available. But, Jessica and I were left suspecting that all of these whiskeys are centrally produced.

On a related note, the Appenzell area was big on local products. There was lots of Appenzeller cheese. Many of the huts/hotels featured Appenzell-made cookies (instead of chocolates) on guests’ pillows. The region even had their own brand of soda, Goba Cola, that was available everywhere. The local beer in Appenzell sported a label with a recognizable view…

–Lots of huts have playgrounds or toys for kids. Especially the ones that are the shortest walk from roads. Binsalm was a very family-run place, and even had a little electric truck that some kids were driving around.

–The decor choices at some of the places we visited were varied. While Tierwis leaned into the mountaineering theme (being run by a family of mountain guides), others made more “interesting” choices, ranging from Mahlknechthutte’s giant-legged teddy bear to the goat statues on top of Santis. And the giant cowbells shown here from Binsalm were common all over the place. I think they were prizes from some sort of contests.

–Meanwhile, around various huts there were several examples of local woodworking crafts, some more artful than others.

Of course, looking at those, I bet you’re thinking those look like they’re in Austria. Nope. All of the above are from Italy. Don’t forget that the Dolomites used to be part of Austria and German is still at least as commonly spoken as Italian.

And at a few different places we heard alpine horns being played. At one of our favorite huts, Rasciesa, the owner played one unannounced, so I only managed to get a picture of him carrying it in after partially disassembling the massive thing…

While we’re on the more rural aspects of these places, it’s worth remembering that, while some of them are pretty much just hotels, a lot of them are also working farms. Most significantly, there are a gazillion cows (and sometimes sheep) around. Some places, like Starkenfeld, even produced their own cheese. Many others had chickens that produced eggs for breakfast.

Best of all, a significant number of them have cats. I snuggled every single one I could.

Mammut and Salewa (at Tierwis) were my favorites. They were super-plush cats and named after outdoorwear brands. What’s not to like?

Speaking of cats (since I’ve run out of things to say about Alpine huts)…Jessica and I got two new kittens a week after we got home from the Alps. Tornado is a troublemaker and super-athletic. Tumbleweed is a little bumbling, but super-cute. Our older cat, Quicksand, is trying to get used to them, but is still pretty unsure whether their presence is acceptable.

You may have noticed that Tornado has some twisted whiskers. This is evidently the result of an explosion the kittens were in before they ended up at the shelter. It makes sense that Tornado evidently ran towards the explosion — he’s fearless. Regarding his fearlessness–his favorite place to hang out seems to be on my shoulders. While he’s still small this is cute, though occasionally his timing is inappropriate…

More lovely photos of mountains to come…