Hochkönig Franzlweg (V+)

Published on 2024-11-9 by Michael Stanton

52 images here, I must apologize but I had to include them all!

Michael suggested the Watzmann Traverse for the weekend, which seemed like a good idea. But as the weekend approached, we both got serious cases of FOMO (fear of missing out!) and began arguing for more ambitious plans. The Grossglockner, or the Hochkönig, or how about the Wieder Route and how about a half-dozen different bivouac ideas? Finally the Hochkönig came out on top as a kind of moderate goal between something too hard and something too easy. The Franzlweg offered climbing to V+, while also requiring boots and crampons. The "too hard" feeling was entirely on my side, I must confess...I'm in winter hibernation-mode already!

At the last minute, I tossed my rock shoes in my pack. We had food for the night and breakfast. Michael brought a sleeping bag, but I was gambling that there would be enough blankets in the winter room...

Michael approaches the south wall of the Hochkönig, our route marked. Photo by Michi

Crossing a snowfield to the base. Photo by Michi

Michael on the rock, hmm...where to go? Photo by Michi

On the way up we admired the mountain and talked of many things, too many to list here! But the overall theme was about finding a middle way towards living a good and productive life, between the rocks and rapids of many competing belief systems. We strive towards truth, while admitting that we are deceived and deceive ourselves daily. Our beliefs easily harden into ideologies that support and enchain us. How do you possibly grow old gracefully, remaining changeable like fire inside, while also becoming useful to others by serving them as roads and bridges they can rely on?

The key to growing old may be to remain young, though not the "young" the world holds dear...a different kind of young, made of strong and flexible material, though no longer ravaged by desire. How to do this?

Stay in the present. Be open-ended, to use Michael's phrase. Laugh at yourself at every chance, because it washes away arthritic structure ever building in this mind that overvalues itself.

Enjoyable scrambling. Photo by Michi

A typical view...follow the light gray bubbling stream of rock. Photo by Michi

Michi climbs

We talked about the moon, and wondered if it has it's own light. Or I should say, her own light, for if the sun is a he, the moon must be a she...we recognize this in an instant. But if we declare that her light must express itself physically, then we build up costly side-effects. We'll be forced to regard the astronomers and scientists as liars, and our world darkens more than it must. On the other hand, if we discard this beautiful idea completely, we calcify into machine-man, in whom nothing of youth is preserved.

"How about if she bathes us in her light, and yet her light is his light, reflected and changed in and through her, such that it is truly she who graces us?" I wondered.

Maybe we can hold spiritual truth in this way. We give everyone respect, and learn from them all. The scientist brings us his diagrams, with sin and cosine and tangents, and we nod. The aboriginal man focuses on the moon and forgets the sun, and declares that her light is her own. We nod at this too. We do not need enemies. Yes, I know they are there. But now I am lost in the beauty of the moon, and in a dream of how the light from our Father becomes the light of each man, woman and child. And moon.

And...with these thoughts we reached the end of the trail, and scrabbled across broken boulders and a crisp, cold snowfield with a single set of old tracks, aiming for a light-grey cascade of rock bubbling from the face above. We hunted for the red dot which marks the start of the route, and found it right where we expected it to be.

We climbed in parallel for a while, useful when we aren't sure how solid the rock is. By the absence of sound, we knew safety, and the way narrowed, me usually right behind. Stemming between gnarled knuckles of dark gray rock, we followed a ledge up and right to a vertical step that marked the first real climbing move. This is the beginning of pitch 7 on our topo of the route. Michael checked the holds, and hoisted himself up. All good. Now 5 more pitches in a narrowing chimney before the ground opened up again to a high, tilted plane.

Michael rounds a corner. Photo by Michi

Pretending it is still summer. Photo by Michi

Entering a narrow chimney. Photo by Michi

"Nice!" We either got philosophical or just said ordinary things about how good the sun felt and how glad we were the wind was content to murmur softly instead of scream.

We'd reached the dunkler Pfeiler (dark buttress) marked on the topo, and hiked up along its base to reach a small Kessel with steep walls, only one of which looked climbable. We got out the rope, and Michael led up. We only had 30 meters, and expected to make short pitches until things got easier again.

Michael went up, clipped a bolt and tried to figure out the move. He moved left of the bolt, placed a foot high up on the opposite wall, and delicately stemmed until he could get hands under an overhanging flake of rock, then commit to the face and move up out of sight. I came up, leading a short pitch with a slung chockstone for protection, then Michael went forward again to a belay right below a grade 4- vertical step. We were in the shade now and getting cold. Michael got a jacket on, and I climbed right above him for the step. It was great fun, with perfect handholds and a few small, ledgy footholds that my boots edged perfectly on. I belayed just below the exit to a grassy terrace. We hurried up to it because we really wanted the sun again!

Michi just before stemming on the opposite wall

Conversing with the "High King." Photo by Michi

Michi looks for a jacket in the cold chasm...

Apparently, a lot of hard routes on the vertical Südwand begin on the other side of this terrace -- that's quite an approach! We'd been climbing about 3 hours to this point.

The scenery was immense here, and the sun was very welcome. But the terrain is sometimes loose and unpleasant. At one point we climbed light, slabby, hollow-feeling rock that seemed like it might break suddenly. The ground flattened a bit, and we stopped to eat and drink. "At least the pack will be lighter!" We were roped up with about 10 meters of rope in between, sometimes carried in coils.

Above the lunch place, we climbed some Wasserrillen (vertical channels carved into the rock by water), then reached a ridge crest at the base of an impossible-looking wall. After a short snow-traverse, Michael was leading up a vertical step, then disappeared out of sight above. A few minutes later, I followed up through a chimney and cracks with an old fixed rope hanging down part of it. I wonder why?

Lunchtime at a "flat" spot

In the "Wasserrillen"...

The famous South Wall behind me. Photo by Michi

I'd switched to rock shoes at the previous belay, and now I was glad for it! I had a tough time getting started on the next pitch, a mantel move felt very dicey to reach a little bathtub right of the belay. Above this, I climbed a shallow crack in a slabby face. There was always a hold where I needed one, but just barely! This pitch had 2 bolts and a piton for protection, and I was glad they were there. Also for my rock shoes!

I set a belay at the base of the crux of the climb -- a stemming problem in a large, rounded runnel. It looked like a giant had used an ice-cream scoop to peel out a layer of rock. There is a single bolt pretty high up in the move -- unless you are quite tall, just reaching the bolt is committing. As I stemmed up on indistinct nubbins on the walls of the "scoop," I was again glad for my rock shoes! I was able to get a foot high on the left side, because there seemed to be an indentation for my hands to get some purchase over there, then pushing off of that, I reached some good holds up and left of the bolt. Whew! I exited to the right into a little anteroom of sorts with a bolt to set a belay. Also in the "room" was a pile of loose rocks ready to fall down on anyone who tries to avoid the crux move via a crack on the right. As a climber sadly named "Inaktiver Benutzer" said on bergsteigen.com:

Wenn der Vorsteiger weiter oben die 5+ nach rechts umgeht, hagelt's Brocken. Also Obacht! [translated: if the leader avoids the 5+ crux by going right, it will hail stones. So beware!]

Michael came up, having enjoyed the short but interesting pitch a lot. And so, we were done with pitch 26! Haha, not that I'm counting...

What does this flower think he is doing in this wild place? Photo by Michi

The most technical rock climbing of the route. Photo by Michi

A bit of snow to cross...Photo by Michi

Michi leads up...

We left our shady anteroom and came back out into the sun, but it was much weaker now, beaten down by a thickening of clouds, like unpleasant relatives gathering after a death. We soon saw the trail crossing over from the Königsjodler Klettersteig to the Matras-haus, but Michael warned against losing our honor by wandering over to it instead of remaining on route to our West Summit! He is right! So we turned back to the rock for more climbing. Right at the end there was a pretty tough 3+ section on Wasserrillen, and I asked Michael for a belay. I was back in my clunky boots and it felt very insecure. But now we were on top!

Michael on the slabby, shallow crack (IV+). Photo by Michi

Looking down to Michi at the belay

Michi above the shallow crack

A big, lonely wall...

Michael warms his fingers for the interesting crux. Photo by Michi

We took pictures in the waning light, then walked down and up to a higher summit. Coming down from this one brought us to hard, icy snow on the track over to the Matras-Haus. I stopped to put on crampons, but Michael didn't need them. I would be amazed several times at his ability on ice without steigeisen.

He continued on the ridge crest, and I followed the snow track. We met on top just as the sunset was most beautiful. Michael had news: "The hut owner is here and we can sit in the main room for dinner and have a beer!"

Fantastic!

Difficulties are now below us...

A last bit of climbing to the West Summit

The light fades at the last moves. Photo by Michi

What a great climb!

Michael by the old, rugged cross. Photo by Michi

Michi coils the rope...

One more shot at the summit, the sun was so beautiful We took about 3 gigabytes of photos, and talked a bit with the other people out here. As it turned out, the winterroom was actually filled up! The owner kindly let 2 people sleep in the house, making room for Michael and I to each get a narrow bunk. For a while I thought we'd just have to descend in the dark. We went into the winterroom and a man was perched in the middle of the bunks. He told us we were out of luck -- no beds. He said maybe it would be possible to sleep outside...

We had a great dinner of pasta with vegetables and cheese. I irritated the hut owner by trying to use the bathroom in the house. He had explained that they can't be used but I wasn't listening. I guess he came up and gave a lecture to the dining room while I was away because I returned and everyone stared at me. Such is life!

But indeed, we got a beer, and enjoyed a few hours up there while the owner tested and repaired an array of electric or butane heaters on the floor. This made the room really warm, which was great.

After a lot of dessert and snacks, we headed down for bed. I piled four blankets on myself -- they are much less efficient than a sleeping bag, so you need volume! Michael had a light sleeping bag. So we settled in for 8 or 9 hours of rest. It was indeed a long night, but there isn't much else you can do at this time of year. I fell asleep to a cavalcade of voices whispering in German, Russian and other Slovene languages...

Looking back at the West Summit on the traverse to the Matras-Haus

The colors kept getting better...

The last rays...

Day Two

Up and out for the sunrise!

I guess all of us in the winter room were sun-worshippers. Everyone had their camera at the ready. After this, I packed up pretty quickly, eager to get warm. I started down ahead of Michael, and we agreed to meet at the entrance to the Birgkar. We might go over and hike up another summit, or might just head down.

The sun returns!

The Großglockner in the dawn light

Warmth returns...! Photo by Michi

A close-up of the West Summit

We survived a rather long night!

Michi makes a time-lapse photo sequence...

The winter-room bunks. Photo by Michi

Crunching down the frozen slopes, I enjoyed myself. Today was Michael's birthday...somehow I'd only remember that when I was alone and always forget to congratulate him! I hope the climb and the sunset and sunrise were a good present. I waited at a sunny spot, and he arrived soon after, making his way across snow slopes. Pretty soon he had the stove going and prepared tea and oatmeal, with fresh berry jam from his mom. Outstanding...a long breakfast at a scenic place.

Michi approaches the breakfast place

Time for yogi tea and oats, here at the entrance to the Birgkar. Photo by Michi

The trip down was tricky, especially in the upper third. There were several places where the tread seemed to have been washed away by rain earlier in the summer. Happily the most dangerous spots had some kind of cable to hold on to. We saw a few hardy climbers on the Königsjodler above us. Excellent...

Lower down, I put crampons on to descent a snowy gully while Michael continued on trail to the right. "It was terrible," he said. Indeed, two guys had tried going up it to a junction on the Königsjodler ridge, but turned around after they were reduced to crawling upwards a while on insecure ball-bearings over a frozen dirt layer. I was lucky, because descending the snow turned out to be fun and easy, too.

On the long and sometimes tricky descent.

But the scenery was always amazing

Michael descends an icy couloir. Photo by Michi

We met up at the point we'd left the trail the day before for the climb, and bombed down, stopping a couple of times to rest and take pictures. It really did take hours to reach trail. We didn't mind at all that we'd decided to take a "rest" day, and reached the car around 14:00.

The drive back was fun because we could see many mountains and routes, and there was no traffic. A big thanks to Michael and to the "High King," and don't let me forget Herr Franzl who put in the bolts for this interesting route!

A wooden sign points to the Franzlweg. Photo by Michi

The Königsjodler Klettersteig on the left

Returning to the valley. Photo by Michi

Michi on the "Königsbank"

A last look

What are they singing to us? Photo by Michi

A few links:

• A nice report
• The route on bergsteigen.com