Altaussee, Melted

Last winter, J and I tossed the snowshoes in the car and drove to Altaussee. We walked for two kilometers across the frozen lake and then strapped on our snowshoes to walk another two or three kilometers up to a “hutte” or shed. We turned back at the point where the trail started to go steeply uphill, seeing as how I was tired and we were running out of daytime hours.

It was a pleasure to be able to see the same place in summer, the lake thawed, trout swimming about, the trail accessible to all kinds of walkers, not just sturdy snowshoeing types. The restaurant at the top of the lake trail was open and full of lazy hikers having sausage and beer in the Alpine sunshine. The set-up for a wedding sat on the edge of the lake; locals sat around gossiping and it was a regular fashion show of traditional Austrian attire. Yes, people really do dress like that around here.

We ate lunch in a gasthaus in town before heading up the trail. It took us no time to navigate the same territory we’d covered in several hours earlier this year. Instead of a string of footprints punched in the snow, boats powered by nearly silent electric motors criss crossed the surface of the lake. A flat area where I remember running over deep snow turned out to be swampy and full of big leafy plants. The boulders revealed their feet and wildflowers were everywhere. Tamer flowers, no less splendid for their domestication, burst out of windowboxes all through town.

I am a sucker for the romance of winter, for the quiet sound of footsteps in snow and the bright blue sky over blankets of white. But Austria at summer is equally breathtaking, though I am forced to share her with many more people than I’m used to seeing around.

There are a few pictures of Altaussee – summer and winter – here.