The Pallavicini Couloir Austria's most famous alpine climb?

The conversation went something like this : "You have the old map the glacier doesn't look like this any longer." said the Austrian path builder/restorer. " We only just bought it." I replied "Well the glacier is melting so fast that the routes are changing each year . The only way you are going to cross the glacier on your present route is if you swim." said the Austrian path builder/restorer as his pal grinned in agreement. He pointed into the rain and the billowing mist. "The new path is way back down there." He said. This was not an auspicious start for our attempt on what is the "jewel in the crown" of Austrian alpinism. The Pallavicini Couloir which leads directly to the col between the kleiner Glockner and the Grossglockner - Austria's highest and most famous mountain. After "warming up" by climbing the north face of the Hochfeiler in the Zillertall , we had driven across Austria and over the spectacular Glockner pass to the starting point for our route: A giant multi-storey car par which would have made any city center proud. The Franz-Josefs-Haus is perched high above what "use to be" the mighty Pasterze glacier 2370m. Defiantly Europe's highest and most incongruous car park. If we had been standing in the same spot way before the invention of the motor-car AND the weather hadn't been quite as miserable as it presently was this is what we might have seen. A photo of a painting taken from the Ripa Messner Museum:

The current challenge for Charles and I was that the weather was not being co-operative. The one good day of our remaining time together was tomorrow. The present day was miserable. It was cloudy and drizzling. We had decided that if we were going to stand any chance of climbing the route , then we needed to get to the bivouac hut today in order to take advantage of tomorrows good weather. To get to the place where the "we are lost" conversation had taken place was tedious. We left the car park and then walked down a track for about 300 meters. Each step down was in effect a reminder of how much of the glacier had retreated. It was misty and raining lightly. We trudged along a path looking for the point where we needed to cross the glacier. Instead we were met with a raging torrent that cut through what was the remains of the glacier. It was impassible. We could not see much either and this is the point where we bumped into the Path builder/ restorers. To their credit they were very helpful and they did help us get on the right track across the moraine. The problem was the weather was miserable and navigating across this uninspiring landscape was going to be difficult. We sat on a rock and munched on our sandwiches deciding if we should give up. This took a lot of discussion . I reasoned that once we were across the glacier and established on the route to the bivouac hut the route on the map would be correct because if the path was not on the glacier it would not have moved. Plus it was possible to download a weather forecast to my I phone which suggested that the weather might clear a bit in the afternoon. We decided to carry on. The weather did clear but only long enough to welcome in an afternoon storm that was not predicted. The storm drenched us yet fortunately there was no thunder and lightening mixed in with it. We marched up steep snow and then onto the ridge which supports the bivouac hut. At the designated height we thought we should be able to see the hut. Yet we could not even see our hands in front of our face . We really needed to find the hut and escape out of the rain. Trying to find a grey tin box beautifully camouflaged by matching grey mist was a challenge. Suddenly Charles shouted that he had seen something that might be the hut about 20 meters below us. [Something he had done several times already.] This time he was right. We were safe.

Mind you it was not much bigger than a big tin can. Yet as the saying goes : "Any Port in a storm": Still it was "Ours" the only benefit of arriving in shit weather.

We sorted our selves out and collected some snow to melt for some Tea. It had taken us around nine hours to get here not withstanding all the earlier dithering. What we would end up doing tomorrow was another question as the weather had not cleared. It needed to clear so that the snow and ice might stand some chance of freezing. We agreed to set the alarm for 2.00am. We would get up and have a look. We turned in at about 8.00pm. I was not optimistic. At about 9.00pm I was convinced I could hear voices , but just assumed I was hallucinating and finding it difficult to get to sleep. I drifted off to sleep only to be rudely awakened by someone banging on the hut door at 9.30pm. I couldn't believe it but two Austrian climbers had turned up with the intention of attempting the same route as us. After the initial hassle of having to accommodate " Our guests" we realized that the two Austrians had at least legitimized our decision to try the climb. Or more likely, they were just as nuts as Charles and myself. The alarm was brutal. I wrestled with the tin hut door and it flew open revealing something I had not seen so far : A view. The first view of anything meaningful in a few days. We were on . We drank a pint of tea each and forced down some " Builder Bars" and we were off across the glacier to the foot of the couloir. Conditions underfoot were not the best because the snow had hardly frozen. The snow would almost support your weight but once you committed to the step you would inevitably sink up to your knees. Still it was doable. The approach is meant to take half an hour. It took us an hour. The Austrians caught us up primarily because they used our foot steps instead of making their own. We crossed the Rimaye and established our selves in the couloir proper. The conditions were suddenly excellent . Good solid neve which allowed us to move together without pitching the route. We made rapid rythmical progress gaining height quickly. While all this was happening the sun had appeared and it rather unhelpfully started to melt the snow at the top of the couloir. Big lumps of ice started to pepper us , sometimes bouncing off our helemets, some times zooming past like bullets. After about two and a half hours I spotted the summit cross on the top off the Grossglockner. I was suckered into assuming that it was not too far away as long as the couloir continued in the same vain. Yet off course it did not. The ground steepened up significantly and then the snow vanished to leave a section of lose serious rock climbing. The sort of rock climbing where each potential hold became a deadly hand held missile. A missile that threatened everyone below me. It was serious ground. This difficult climbing lasted about a 100 meters and then fortunately the angle eased and there was more snow. The snow lead to the breche between the two summits.

Fifteen minutes later we were at the cross . We had climbed the Pallavicini Couloir and were now at the highest point in Austria. It would be another long six hours before we were back at the car.