Filmoorhütte -> Obstanserseehütte – No Water falls out of grey Clouds

13. September 2025

 

 

6,2 km

670 m up

710 m down

4:20 hrs.

 

When you bring your own breakfast, it usually means sitting outside—especially if you’re making your own coffee. But here it was so chilly that I didn’t think it would be much fun. So we struck a deal: I’d buy a coffee and get to sit inside. That was perfect! Warmth, better coffee, and company. With so few guests around, it was actually quite nice to sit together.

 

It really hadn’t rained, but there wasn’t much to see either.

 

 

 

The Karnischer Höhenweg, where I was hiking, often offers different route options – ridge paths, detours, and so on. I was torn about which one to take. The ridge route was shorter, with fewer elevation changes, less slippery/muddy in case of rain – but supposedly a bit more exposed. The alternative had more elevation gain, was longer, led over steeper muddy terrain – but was considered easier overall. The two women I’d met had come from the next hut, taken the ridge, but had turned back because of fear of heights. That settled it for me: I’d take the longer variant! Turning back wouldn’t have been much fun in this weather – or at all, really.

 

But even for the alternative route, there was plenty of time. Everyone dawdled around a bit longer – but then we each went our own way.

 

 

I think the mountain scenery was magnificent. But I couldn’t really see it properly. Again and again the fog rolled in, got blown away a little, and then drifted back. At times it was actually quite nice to snap photos of it. Here are my pictures:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I really liked the landscape with the rocks and the grass in between. It was a bit chilly, so I was glad I had brought my woolly hat and gloves!

 

 

Also I practised a bit more panos:

 

 

 

 

The trail first led to a small saddle, then quite a long way down into a valley, and then back up along one side of the valley. And it was very quiet that day — I only came across about 3–5 people (without talking to them).

 

 

 

 

 

At the spot where the trail climbs back up, there was a small shelter. It’s really great to have one in case of rain or cold.

 

 

 

The climb up was a bit tiring. Well, not really—it was just a steady ascent. But near the top, a section of the trail had collapsed, and you had to edge your way up a steep, narrow path along the slope. I was glad I didn’t have to go down that way, and also that it wasn’t raining—it would have been quite a tricky situation. Once again, the blueberries along the trail made for nice little snack breaks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I reached the pass, I felt a bit relieved. When things get a little tricky, I don’t feel entirely comfortable being all alone. But everything went fine, and then I headed down to the hut.

 

 

 

The hut is nicely situated by the lake, but a) you couldn’t see everything because of the clouds, and b) the weather was a bit unpleasant. The hut was well-equipped, and the room, despite an open window and no heating, was surprisingly warm. On the downside, it was quite large, and I had the feeling that my minimal consumption didn’t make me entirely welcome.

 

At first, I was sitting alone, but then a young woman joined me at my table—and that was fantastic! We started talking and could hardly stop. She was about 30 years younger, but in the same “bubble”: traveling alone and a bit hesitant about the huts. Normally, she travels in Scandinavia with a friend and a tent—much emptier nature there, exactly what I also miss in the Alps. She wasn’t entirely sure if she would fit in with the hut hikers or feel “too different.” Pretty much like me. While you rarely meet truly unpleasant people, there’s always a little outsider feeling. But that evening felt cozy and homely—a very welcome surprise.

 

And in all this happiness, something embarrassing still happened: you always pay in the evening, and we had forgotten and were already in bed—then a staff member came in to remind us. What a shame!

 

Unfortunately, the nice woman went in the other direction, but that really doesn’t matter. When you’re traveling, a lot of happiness comes from these (brief) encounters that leave a little resonance behind. I tend to regret that they’re so short—but that’s probably part of what makes them wonderful. Everything is impermanent, yet a shared moment leaves a small trace.