Strahlkogel Traverse

Published on 2020-7-12 by Michael Stanton

Update: I noticed that on hikr.org there are several great reports on the Strahlkogel written in German. For example here and here. I added my own little addition there, because I'd like to contribute to that interesting corpus of linked reports.

Uli and I hadn't climbed together in quite a while. So it was great when he called with the idea of climbing the Strahlkogel in the Larstiger Mountains. I'd never been in there...they were always hazy peaks on the western edge of my favorite ski touring peaks in the Sellrain. He said the Westgrat (west ridge) would be a great climb of UIAA grade III rock. He was hazy about the descent, liking to keep the options open about which valley we might descend -- maybe the Larstig or the Zwieselbach, or the Grastal of our ascent route.

We drove down the night before. Uli was enthusiastic about his one-man tent, a Jack Wolfskin Gossamer. I bought one too, and it arrived just before I left to pick him up in Munich! So we set up our identical tents in the dark, happily to sleep safely dry as the last moisture from a day of storm came down.

We were walking a bit after six, and reached the lovely Grastalsee ("Grass Valley Lake") after a couple hours. Uli told an entertaining story about an incredible expedition experience in the Himalaya. It seemed that a very big part of the adventure was in logistics among the many people of a very different culture. Clearly, it was very rewarding.

Uli approaches the Grastalsee.

Above the still-slumbering lake.

Above the lake, we hopped boulders made slippery by invisible ice. "It must have been rain from yesterday that did this," said Uli, deftly executing controlled falls uphill as black rocks slid underneath him. Eventually I found a tongue of ice, and put on steigeisen to keep going. Unfortunately, in here we realized we'd gone the wrong way, and now had a mountain between us and our peak.

Uli thought we could stay high and traverse the mountain-side. We did this for a while, but then it got quite steep and we were forced down. With the frozen rocks, this was quite time-consuming and I felt our chance to climb the peak was slipping away from us. I wanted to bomb straight back down quickly and try again -- heartbreaking as it was!

In the end we did a bit of both. Before reaching the lake, we were able to contour a great moraine, then clamber onto it's crest for quick travel to a hanging valley with a stream running from the Grastalferner. We rested a bit, then put on steigeisen and navigated tricky slabs of icy snow above the raging creek, until we were firmly on snowfields and then the glacier.

Above a small glacier-fed lake, we saw the south wall of the Grastaler Grieskogel, spanning to the Strahlkogel. We wanted to climb it more or less directly to the notch between the peaks, which we could vaguely see above the odd combination of smooth wall and rubble before us.

We saw a ramp trending from the highest patch of snow on the glacier up and right to somewhere near the notch. But it was hard to tell if it's somewhat lower angle would be useful to follow, or merely loose and time-consuming. We opted to head straight up somewhat right of the base of this ramp. This would allow us to connect to, and use the ramp if it seemed useful. Either way, we'd need to go generally up and right.

Uli captured me hiking on the lower Grastalferner (glacier).

Uli in a rare moment of rest.

After grovelling in dirt and sliding rocks for a few minutes, we hit more solid stone. Uli led the way up and right through occasionally interesting steep sections. We were somewhat surprised to reach the ridge crest quickly -- so far things weren't coming easy on this day! We had a fantastic view of the narrow ridge to our summit. Many high peaks around us were obscured by cloud that seemed to bubble up from the surrounding valleys. Hoping that wouldn't happen to our peak, we started up the ridge.

Our goal lies ahead -- or is the span in between?

We decided to travel without the rope for as long as possible, feeling that if we avoided using it until the route steepens below the summit block, we'd save a lot of time. We really enjoyed this section, scrambling along with incredible views down and out to cloud-bedecked summits. High plateaus of snow, intermingled with cloud and black spikes and turrets of stone. The difficulties were capped nicely with a hard move creeping around a short overhanging gable. It was like a signal: maybe now it's time for the rope.

A look back to the Grastalsee.

Michael on the ridge.

We picked the right thing to do for a Sunday!

On the knife-edge (I like the German: "Messerscharf!")

Coming 'round the gabel,

The rock steepens.

At a little notch we got out my never-used purple 30 meter rope. Uli outfit me with gear. We had two cams, a great selection of nuts and many slings. I stepped around to the right and headed straight up a chimney of chunky granitic shards. The many hours of toil in the Geröllfelder below finally felt an acceptable cost for the clean, integrated movement in a space seldom attained. The orchestral Bauwerk of firm, deep footings in the earth balanced the envelope-thin edge of this "Other-World" of lines and angles opposite to the norm. There was a sense of an equation completing.

We stood on the summit.

Simul-climbing on the Westgrat.

We'd been granted permission...to enjoy ourselves!

What a beautiful summit book -- with custom gold lettering!

Seeking to capture the soul of the mountains, his own soul is captured!

Uli and I on top.

After a nap, it was time to head down...the Ostgrat would be our way. We imagined it might be easier.

Ha!

Travelling in coils, we navigated small vertical steps and many exposed notches. Most spikes had to be climbed over, but occasionally it was possible to traverse around on the right, following shattered ramps around corners that led reassuringly back to the security of the crest somewhat below.

After an hour of concentrated work, we got a look back at the up-and-down world through which we'd threaded our existence:

The upper Ostgrat.

Here with (as near as I can tell) our line marked.

Uli prepares to cross a typical slabby step.

We touched snow as the ridge leveled off. We decided to turn left here and make our way down to the Larstigscharte, which would allow us to turn down the Larstigtal, or after descending the steeper east side of the scharte, heading east to the Zwieselbachjoch. The rock changed texture to some degree, with more precariously stacked blocks and a higher quartz-content, making the rock lighter. Still pleasant climbing, but holds had to be tested carefully.

After another hour we stood before a rickety-looking tower. Uli hoped to traverse the left side, but the slabs were iced over. He considered making a traverse across snow/ice at a lower level, then working back to the ridge on a mixture of slabs and snow. Oddly reluctant to leave the ridge, I suggested to climb up the tower, which looked to be a few exposed moves of grade IV-. "You want to send me up there?" queried Uli.

"Yes!"

I guess he grinned, but he was out of sight behind a car-sized block separating my belay from him. Cautiously, Uli mantled up over one step, then a second. A sling protected the final moves. I wish I'd somehow taken a picture -- it was an impressive line! This picture of the tower from just above will have to do:

I've doctored the photo to blur the background and make the ridge hyper-focused. I think it tells a psychological truth about life on a sharp crest. We went up and over.

Looking back on the Strahlkogel from partway down to the Larstigscharte.

More climbing ahead, but Uli is all smiles.

The rest of the way to the Larstigscharte became somewhat exhausting. My energy, especially, was flagging. Finally we reached a notch with an awkward sling belay. Uli suggested climbing down the gray slabs below us to reach the east side of the Larstigscharte. I couldn't see any possibility of protecting that terrain, and I didn't have his certainty that it was so very easy. I suggested an abseil, so we rigged this up.

Tossing the ropes, they fell far short of what we would need to gain some kind of intermediate anchor. Having rested a bit, my head was cleared and it made sense to carry on descending the ridge to the notch. Uli felt it was possible to descend here based on his prior experience in the area with Christiane (they'd descended slopes with a similar look right at the notch). So anyway, we carried on.

Two minutes later, I heard Uli laugh. Basically -- we were at the notch! He pointed to where snow touched the ridge one meter below us on the much more gentle west side of the Larstigscharte. We continued another 5 minutes, then we were comfortably at the notch proper.

Wow. But for me it was clear. It was time to stop technical climbing because exhaustion impairs judgement, and I was quite exhausted. "We can descend this way," said Uli. I think he would have liked to extend the trip around into the Zwieselbachtal, but I wasn't that interested in getting down that steep pass. In the end though, we were both very happy with the trip through the Larstigstal.

But still, we had to get there! We put on steigeisen, then marched down the glacier.

Descending the Larstigferner.

Uli did a great job finding the way down slabs at the base of the glacier, then we crossed boulderfields until reaching a stunning moraine-crest that led straight down to the green and well-watered middle tier of the valley.

Descending moraine.

The Strahlkogel in evening light, with pines.

I trailed along behind, at first wondering why I was so tired. Later, I began to enjoy the silence and become grateful for this wonderful valley. I breathed and walked in silence, gradually finding the joy buried by the stress of the final ridge. We talked about our sons and the good work they are doing.

The lower valley tier, gorgeous in evening light.

Goodbye!

Now in cool, steep forest, we quickly descended to the road in the mighty Horlachtal. We rested on a bench and met our first person of the day: a very intelligent man checking the electric fences. He asked us about what we'd done and seemed fully familiar with not only the ground, but the whole gestalt of the experience. Interesting.

Another hour of walking brought us to the car at 9 pm. A 15 hour day! I forgot what big mountain trips are like!

Thanks Uli for a great time. Thanks Strahlkogel. May the "rays" sent out from your heart like a beacon continue to beckon the odd-folks of the mountains to lay hands on your consciousness -- feeling the truth of it, and thus exposing themselves to your truth.