Schattenlagant -> Heinrich Hüter Hütte – The 12th woman* could also be a man*

10. August 2025

 

 

9,1 km

320 m up

530 m down

3:30 hrs.
According to Mapy, this is the route we walked on the first day.

However, the report actually has to start with the previous day—the journey there. That was special in the sense that I set off, wove my way through excursion traffic, got annoyed at slow-moving vehicles—and after almost an hour realized I had left without my hiking boots. Then I was annoyed at myself, turned back, picked up the boots, and set off again. I thought taking the motorway would be smarter than the country road—but ended up stuck in two traffic jams. By the time I reached Austria, most of the annoyance had passed—there was a 100 km/h speed limit that everyone obeyed, and the motorway was fairly empty and relaxing. However, there were quite a few construction zones. As I wound my way through the valleys toward Vorarlberg, I found myself thinking—something I’ve done quite often this year—that the Alps are actually quite built-up. So many houses, roads, tunnels, industry—and very little true wilderness. Somehow, I had a different image in my mind of what should be an absolutely magnificent Alpine landscape, and I couldn’t really get excited about the mountains. Why didn’t I notice that so strongly in the past?

 

 

After Bludenz, I drove up the Brandnertal to a hut just before the valley station of the cable car to Lake Lünersee. We had arranged to spend a “pre-night” there so we wouldn’t have to rush the next day. That turned out to be a very good idea. The hut was comfortable, with a cozy bed and warm shared showers—actually quite nice even for after a hike. Still, there were very few overnight guests. Karla was already there when I arrived, and we were happy to see each other. We enjoyed a delicious dinner in the evening, and in the morning, a tasty breakfast.

 

 

And then we were off! We opted for a gentle start and took the cable car. It was quite full, and a dog whimpered the entire ride.

 

 

At the top, there was the pretty Lünersee with its dam, a restaurant, and an incredible bustle. On one hand, I was fascinated and took a few pictures; on the other, the crowds kept me from feeling any real joy.

 

 

 

 

 

You’re not allowed to swim in the lake, but fishing is permitted. A fairly wide path lets you walk all the way around in about two hours. Many people did just that—and we started with them. The direct route to our first overnight hut wasn’t all that far, so we figured a detour to the Totalphütte would be a good idea. So, we wandered—or rather strolled—along the lakeshore, looking down at the anglers, and then set off on our little side trip.

 

 

 

 

 

The Totalphütte is a popular lunch stop for many hikers, so crowds of people carrying only light packs rushed past us. My mood sank—truth be told, it hadn’t been great anyway because of all the hustle and bustle. Karla has knee problems, so after a short while we decided that this detour wasn’t really worth it and headed back down to the wide lakeside path.

 

 

Near a snack station, there was a cross on a ledge—and quite a lot of people to be seen.

 

 

Was there a particularly great view up there? Curious, we went up and were quite amazed: we had arrived just in time for a mountain mass! It was Sunday (and, together with the nice weather, probably the reason it was so crowded), and sometimes a church service is held up on the mountain. I was thrilled to witness this and started taking a few pictures.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then I started feeling embarrassed. In my excitement at discovering what, for me, was a kind of unfamiliar custom, I easily forget that for the participants it is a serious religious occasion and not a “folkloric event.” I can’t really relate to the word of God and often even feel a strong aversion to it. So I quickly felt ashamed (not the first time this has happened to me) and withdrew. Karla stayed a bit longer, but eventually she came along too. We walked a little farther around the lake, found our path toward the overnight hut, and finally left the lake—and most of the people—behind us. And just like that, my grumpy mood lifted again.

 

 

 

 

We climbed the Lünerkrinne, a pass with beautiful views. Little by little, it started to feel more like actually being in the mountains.

 

 

 

Then we headed down, past horses, across meadows, through bushes and trees—and there, finally, the hut came into view.

 

 

 

 

 

The Heinrich Hüter Hut was quite large, very busy, modern, and had the narrowest mattresses in the dormitory. Luckily, the bunks above us stayed empty, so we each ended up with two mattresses to ourselves. They did offer half-board, but the staff weren’t particularly eager to push it on us, so we even enjoyed the luxury of ordering à-la-carte dishes, which were served quickly and were quite tasty.

 

 

The day was sunny and exhausting, and we enjoyed the luxury of a cold shower (instead of just a washbasin). Brrrr, the water was freezing, but it was wonderfully refreshing, and afterwards I felt pleasantly clean and content. And so ended a very eventful day.
P.S. About the blog post title: I spotted it on a sticker at the lake.
Would I be able to enjoy more solitude the next day, or would the crowds continue?