What's your Plan B? Hiking the Ratikon Alps
The outlook wasn't promising when we arrived at the Pfalzer Hut in Liechestein on the first day of July. Perched at 2108m on the Bettlerjoch pass into Austria, the hut and the mountains all around were swathed in mist. We’d laboured up through drizzle and crossed several snow patches on on the ascent, as well as a section of trail destroyed by a mudslide, now bring repaired by heavy machinery. And it was only our first day.
Our host René didn’t mince words. Our planned route for the next day was pretty iffy, with deep and extensive snowfields still lingering on north-facing slopes, plus a forecast for rain, potentially snow. He complained that conditions had been awful throughout June. ‘What’s your plan B?’ he asked. Cue much googling and emailing by trip leader Wendy, with René’s assistance and wifi, to cancel the next night’s hut, find an alternative place to stay at a new trailhead, and figure out how to get there.
And so it was that much of our second day was spent sampling the amazingly joined-up and punctual Swiss public transport system. Not quite what we’d signed up for, but a cultural experience in itself. Two trains and four busses later, we arrived at the charming Alpenrösli Mountain Hotel at 1750m, the end of the road beneath the eastern end of the Ratikon ridge. We even had time for a wander up to the nearby Partnunsee, with its rowing boats bobbing patiently beneath sheer limestone cliffs.
The next couple of days took us back on track, first climbing to the Carschina Hut at 2225m (basic but cosy and friendly, a marmot presiding over the ‘stube’) then, many extensive snowpatches and another large mudslide later, crossing the Swiss/Austrian border at the Grubenpass to the Tilisuna Hut (all mod cons including showers and wifi, and markedly cheaper prices). The steadily improving weather and views lifted our hopes for the rest of the trip. The highlight was an ascent of Sulzfluh (2818m) with its otherworldly approach - a limestone pavement cracked and cratered like the surface of the moon, patched with snow and pinpricked with tiny purple alpine blooms.
The guardian’s after-dinner talk brought us down to earth. Our planned route for the next day was apparently impassable thanks to a fallen boulder. We’d have to take an easier but much longer route down to the Lindauer Hut. Not the end of the world, we had time and good weather - for now.
More seriously, thunderstorms and heavy rain were forecast for the afternoon of the day after that - our longest day, with two passes and a final climb to the Totalalp Hut at 2385m. Not a route to be caught out in the open in a thunderstorm. Cue plan B once more - an extra night at the Lindauer Hut, then descend to the valley at Schruns rather than Brand. You can’t argue with the mountain gods.
Disappointing? Not at all. The Totalalp Hut will still be there for another trip, and the multiple challenges from weather and route conditions kept us on our toes. The mountain locals going about their business - marmots, alpine choughs, black salamanders - entertained and charmed us along the trail. When the clouds lifted we enjoyed superb views of the ‘Three Towers’ peaks from both sides of the main ridge.
And the flowers! Our trip took us through a jewel-box of colours, from the knee-high, orchid-rich meadows of the valleys, to the red azalea-carpeted slopes beneath the peaks and the tiny alpine flowers sprinkled across scree-slopes. A superb reward for braving the uncertainties of early-season hiking in the Alps.
I too have had similar experiences - once we were snowed in the Austrian Stubai requiring a descent, a trip in a jeep then a train then a bus... but all so efficient... By mid afternoon we back at our starting valley and ready to head off again on a less demanding path.