Austrian Road Trip: Grossglockner High Alpine Road

Our entire Austrian trip was pretty much centered on this road. I’d been dreaming about it. The road is 48 km long (approximately 29 miles) and is the highest alpine road in Austria, open only during the warmer months. It sweeps over mountains and through a wild series of switchbacks, winding through valleys, green hills, and glaciers. We started the day early, and I eagerly sipped my coffee while I awaited the “high mountain feeling” that was coming. Like many similar such roads, it’s touted as a “white knuckle ride” that’s only reserved for the brave. In my experience, these are usually melodramatic statements. We’ve driven on roads that barely qualified as roads, through deserts and steep crevices in the forest. Most people would be surprised by how much they can actually handle with some good gears. The Grossglockner is, at least, paved.

As we left Innsbruck behind, we took a detour off the road to hike to Krimml Falls. The trail is well-cleared but the hike itself is strenuous, a near constant incline up at least nine switchbacks. At various points in the hike, you can stop and see the massive waterfall’s dips and pools. The trail smelled of sweet damp pine, and the pools below the waterfall’s various levels were a crisp green. We *almost* made it to the very top but gave up for fear of losing too much time on the Grossglockner. I knew we wouldn’t be short on views, so we moved on.

We formally entered the road around the town of Zell am See. The snaking hairpin turns were easier to drive than expected. The hills were wild in color and sprinkled with snow. We took a detour to drive to the top of Edelweißspitze, a 1-mile segment of connected road with a vicious incline and narrow, bumpy cobblestones. It put hair on my chest to say the least. At the top a thick fog had rolled in, sweeping quickly over the tiny road until everything was white. We sat down inside an empty little café at the peak for bowls of hot broth soup that warmed us from inside, until the fog had cleared, and we could see blue mountain tops that almost blended with the sky.

I was enamored by the road and didn’t want it to end. But the whole journey was shorter than expected. Before we knew it, we were nearing the culmination at the glacier at Kaiser-Franz-Josefs-Höhe. From the visitor’s center there you enter a pathway inside of a long cave. The space was quiet except for the drip of water from the cave’s ceiling, and the rush of wind at areas where the stone walls had been removed to create a view. A few informational plaques on the walls outlined local legends and superstitions. One such legend was that of a Siren who tempted and murdered men from a blue pond deep inside the caves. They had speakers set up that played cryptic music meant to sound like the Siren’s song. It echoed all throughout the path and made me feel like I was in a horror movie.

At the time of our visit, it was only possible to go to Cave #6 – beyond it was restricted due to avalanche warnings. When we reached the end of this cave there was a small chain blocking our path to the outside. Since this was the first point where we could step completely out of the cave for a view, we chose to break the rules and walk a few feet past the chain to see the glacier upfront. It was moss-green in color and the mountains around it were snowier than any we’d seen so far. It was so still up there except for the faint sound of the “Siren” singing from back inside the cave. The path that would have continued around to our right was littered with slate-like rocks, no doubt of which had tumbled from somewhere above. I paused, like I do, to just exist in that quiet place for a few minutes.

That night we stayed at a hotel at the very top of the Grossglockner Road, Hotel Wallackhaus. I think we were one of only 4 or 5 occupied rooms. Bookings here include both breakfast and a 3-course dinner, because there really is nowhere else to go for those things once you’re here after sunset. The hotel includes a small, free spa with loungers that overlook the quiet mountains outside. We were the only light within eyesight.

That evening it was truly and completely dark. Only a faint outline of mountains pressed through the night, and a deep woosh of wind moved across them. Later on the clouds began to fade, and from my window I could see a sprinkling of stars begin to push through. After my eyes adjusted, they appeared like crystals in all directions, like treasure just below the surface.

The next morning right before leaving, I went and stood by some picnic benches behind the hotel. A large moss green hill rose to the right of me, and larger peaks jutted out in front. My eyes filled with tears because crying over mountains has become my monthly hobby. I don’t know why they get inside me. I just can’t imagine anything more grand and beautiful; it incapacitates me from the deepest part of my soul’s history.

We are such small and wild little things up there with nothing in our paths. Part of me is always searching for peace like this in my heart. It doesn’t last, but when I find it, I swallow it whole.