Alpine nude
Last week I was hiking naked in the Austrian Alps, another great week organised by NEWT. Here in the UK our highest mountains are Ben Nevis (1344m)in Scotland andSnowdon in Wales (1085m). Whilst ruggedly beautiful they are bleak, windswept, cold summits - not the places to go naked. Imagine the delight of hiking in the Alps climbing to well over 1500m. The mountains are ruggedly stunning. The meadows reach to the mountain tops full of wild flowers and butterflies which just might settle on a passing hiker. The forests are natural and straight out of the children's fairy tales. The lakes are wonderfully clear. And to do it all naked! I felt truly one with nature. (I haven't tried doing it clothed so I don't know if being naked made me appreciate nature more intently)
I landed in Saltzburg on the Saturday morning and headed down to Golling where I had lunch and explored the lovely town with shops selling traditional Austrian wear and handcrafted carvings. The I headed East into the mountains andup the Postalmstrasse toll road. My destination was so remote that a car and sat-nav were essential. I was heading for a truly remote place not named on any maps. We were met at the toll gate and taken to our hut, 10 minutes drive away.
Last year all 40 of us stayed in one big Hut - a Swiss-stile chalet with all mod cons. This year we split into three groups: two huts and a nomadic camping group. The other hut had all the comforts of home and was situated at Gosau some distance away. Ours was a true Alpine Hutte, built of logs (or tree trunks) interlocked at the corners with the cracks stuffed with moss. Without any electricity the heating and cooking were on wood-burning stoves. It was rudimentary. We all shared one toilet and shower. But we had an endless supply of beer and wine cooled in a trough made from a hewn-out log fed with cold fresh mountain spring water.
Our surroundings were perfect - mountains, forests and meadows on all sides and really isolated. Each morning a small heard of cows wandered by on their way to the upland meadows. One or two had the traditional cow bells. The others didn't need them as the herd stuck together as they roamed free in the meadows. On our fist night we enjoyed the last of the sun on the decking as we lit the BBQ for dinner. Our leader pointed to a nearby, innocent looking, mountain and said we will climb it tomorrow.
On Sunday morning we had breakfast, packed our lunch and water and set off up that mountain. We wore only hiking boots and socks, a sun hat and the rucksack carrying the lunch. We were advised to carry something to cover up with if we should go along a trafficked (tarmac) road or close to a house. I had a wrap whilst others carried shorts or trousers which they would struggle to put on if necessary.
The mountain, Labenberg,was like many there - broad in one direction and narrow, almost knife-like in the other. Imagine a slice of toast stood on edge. We worked our way round the mountain then up the narrow edge. Our track took us through unspoilt woodland but soon emerged into meadowland, gazed by those wandering cows and thronged with butterflies. The path got steeper and steeper until we eventually reached the summit at 1642m. Exhausted we collapsed in a naked heap, enjoyed to panoramic view and ate our lunch. We could see our hut, tiny in the distance below.
We made the whole ascent naked. The few hikers we met on the way were, if anything, amused at seeing so many naked hikers together. There is some safety in numbers.
We chose to go down by a different route. So we went on and down along the ridge. It took us to a coll between Labanberg and the next mountain. From here we had two choices: follow the path down round the back of the mountain or head straight downhill towards our hut. We chose the direct route. It was a very steep grassy slope, impossible to climb up but quite ok to go down. Fairly soon we had descended to the woods and found our way through to a forest track. A check on the map showed us which way to go. The track took us down past a precipice and to our hut for a well deserved cold beer.
On Monday morning we woke to cloud and light rain. We were in for a less strenuous walk today, hiking with those from the other hut. The meetingwas at the toll gate. There were heart felt hellos and hugs from friends we had met on last year's NEWT. Then we drove down the mountain road, round all it's twists and turns to the valley bottom near Golling. The hike was up a gentle but continuous uphill woodland track. Our starting point was amongst others and it was not that warm so we started wrapped in our clothing. It was not long before a lady from the other hut (I'll call her Ann) stripped off. I soon followed as did the others. For me it was easy removing my wrap. It was comical watching others struggle to pull shorts and trousers off, sometimes over their boots, sometimes having to take the boots off too. If we kept moving we would stay warm despite the light rain and lack of sunshine.
I have to admit that my language skills are non-existent - just a smattering of school French and my hut was full of Germans. I was pleased to meet another Englishman that day for conversation and contrived to get him to move to my hut that evening. Anyhow we made a typically English couple under my umbrella.
There were two main highlights on the route. At one point the track bridged a deep river gorge where we could look down on waterfalls and rock pools far below. Further up the track followed the side of the gorge, clinging to its edge. Then we came to the point where the river plunged into the gorge with a massive waterfall and the inevitable clear, ice coldpool below. It was possible, with difficulty, to get down to the pool. Ann and a few men climbed down for a swim. The group included a professional photographer (I'll call him Ru) who also climbed down. Much of the sport might well have been for the photography. We stayed on the track at the top and ate our lunch. After a while we went on, leaving the swimmers behind with a guide. Surprisingly we soon emerged back at our hutwhere our visitors were welcomed with cold beer from the trough and hot coffee from the kitchen. We had driven down into the valley and walked back up. Somehow the walk up seamed more direct and less steep than the drive down.
Wow olly. What an amazing nude hikingadventure. I would have loved to have been one of the other 19 hikers with you. It's great one can be so open about nudity across the water in England and Europe. Thank you for sharing. I too enjoy your posts.
At 70 I was probably the oldest one there and not so fast on my feet. So I might well be at the back. A large group needs a leader at the front and a tail-end Charlie or sheep dog at the back I volunteered to be the tail-end Charlie a few times which meant I could legitimately come last. The leader and rest of the group would wait for us to catch up every so often. This was the view I got much of the time. It gave me time to study bottoms in depth - useful as a carver of nude statuettes and life drawer but not much else.
If I wasn't being tail-end Charlie I'd try to set off with the first to go, letting them pass me on the way. That proved useful when climbing mountains, especially the one we did next.
Thursday was planned to be not too strenuous but it didn't turn out that way. The weather was now sunny and getting hotter. We drove down into the valley, met our friends from the other hut and parked Somewhere near Russback at about 700m to 800m. It was a fast pace and a steady uphill from the start. Where the road levelled out our rout went off uphill. We wound our way up through the meadows, steadily getting higher. Part way we met three hikers (a man and two women).He wantedhis phototo be taken with the group of nearly 20 nudists. We arranged ourselves on the hillside and his girl-friend took the shot. Then he moved out and Ru, our photographer, took this shot.
We continued up to a crossroads in the tracks at Traunwamdalm, 1330m. We had made good time so the walk was extended. Our path had come up the hill to meet two others which went almost level, left and right. But our route was to go uphill on a little defined (but well way marked) rout at 45deg straight up the mountain to an innocent sounding place called Gamsfeld. We might have hoped the path would ease later but no such luck. At this altitude it could be a little cooler but the sun is stronger. Protection was essential, leading to some improvisation. My fellow Englishman hung his whit shirt from his head down his back. We christened him Lawrence and he asked if anyone had seen his camels. Ru improvised a turban.
Our path took us ever upwards, sometimes skirting the mountain, sometimes straight up it, through woods, rocky outcrops and small meadows. Finally we stopped for lunch at about 1700m, as high as we'd ever been before. We rested for maybe an hour basking in the sun. Then there was some chatter and bags were being packed to move on. Some started to climb upwards towards the top of the mountain. As I said I'm slow so I like to set off with the first and let others overtake me on-route. This was even steeper. Whereas the slope so far had been like so many flights of stairs (about 150 flights since Traunwamdalm) - it was now at the angle one might prop a ladder, a very long ladder. Once it levelled a bit but other times it was vertical. The thin air and my age told I could take a few paces and the stopped for a brief rest. But I'd been dragged 3/4 of the way up this mountain and was determined to get to the top. Those few steps and pauses accumulated to the encouragement 'come on old man' and Finally I made it. I made it to the top of Gansfeld at 2027m ! Of course there was nobody behind me but, when I looked, I saw only about7 of us had made it to the top. The views were magnificent in every direction. Ru recorded the event with individual photos and then a two other hikers joined us for thegroup shot.
The descent was so much quicker but even then breaks were needed to give the knees a rest. At one point the path squeezed narrowly between some stinging nettles and some thorny thistles. Us nudists could be easily stung or scratched.I was just remarking on the need for care when I slipped and fell backwards into the nettles. Ouch. We soon made it down to our lunch spot and onwards to the crossroads at Traunwamdalm where the others were waiting. Here we split, one party going down the way we had come up and another taking an alternative route. On this latter route we came across a small heard of horses, roaming free and wearing bells like the cattle. Later our path was blocked by fallen trees so we had to double back and follow the others down to the cars. Everyone had such a good day so the two huts decided to meet up the following day.
Friday, our last day, was even hotter. We were promised a 5km hike to lakes were we could swim. We went to the other hut just south of Gosau, then continued south with them a short way up the valley to Verderer Goausee, a big lake. It was far to popular with tourists so wraps were needed. We walked the length of the lake and up a path beyond past a fairy-tale log cabin. Soon we turned off through woods to the side and came to Gosaulacke, a much smaller lake. Here we played in the cold water, moving onto rocks which rose out of the lake. It was idyllic, set in a tiny meadow surrounded by woods and beyond them towering rugged mountains.
Then we moved onwards to a bigger lake Hinterer Gosausee. It was trapped by a moraine left by a long-forgotten glacier with mountains towering to each side. More time was spent at the lakeside before moving to a hostelry at the head of the lake for buttermilk, beer and apple strudel. Again we sat naked by the lake as some skinny-dipped. Another couple were nearby - him naked. So they didn't mind.
As we walked back to the cars we stayed naked longer. We did pass many other walkers, most of whom appeared amused by so much nudity. It was a very hot day. And there is some safety in numbers, especially with about 1/3 females.
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