Porzehütte -> Filmoorhütte – Taking alcoholic drinks for 70 Euro

12. September 2025

 

 

6,4 km

640 m up

230 m down

3:20 hrs.
In the morning, I once again congratulated myself on my decision to bring my own breakfast. That way I’m somewhat forced to step outside – and I got to see the clouds lying beautifully over the valley while I was already above them. It’s also wonderfully quiet without the other people. Still, there was a certain restlessness in the air – most of the others either had the long stage ahead of them to the next hut on the Carnic High Route, or they were going in the other direction, skipping a hut, and therefore also had to set out early. I, on the other hand, had taken it easy, booked this hut, and therefore actually had rather short walking times. I imagined myself lying around in the sun at pretty spots, strolling up to further ridges, or…

 

 

The weather forecast was so-so, but at first it looked quite good. To the north it was quite beautiful, though from the south more and more clouds rolled in over the impressive rock faces. I set off in good spirits as the last one to leave the hut and had the trail all to myself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’ll just say it upfront: it stayed dry, but the sun was rather scarce. Sometimes it peeked out between the clouds and warmed me, but just as quickly it was gone again.

 

 

Then I came to a small plateau where a massive power pole stood. What struck me as interesting was: a) the ground was a bit soft and damp, and b) I couldn’t tell where the electricity was actually going. The line led up from the valley toward the high rock walls marking the border with Italy. No hut in between. Do the countries help each other out with power? Like, one supplies and the other buys? But which way around?

 

 

 

After that came a stretch across a kind of high plateau, and I really loved it there. Unfortunately, it didn’t last very long. Along the way, I met a few people who had started out from the hut that was my destination. I got into a conversation with one of them, Eric from California, whom I later googled—and I actually found him in an article: https://www.reddit.com/r/PacificCrestTrail/comments/15elnd6/at_64_pacific_crest_trail_hiker_takes_the_long/. We joked and half-competed about who was the slower hiker. He thought my backpack was really nice. I had gotten it fairly recently and first tried it out in France, but quickly realized it was actually a bad purchase—meant more for taller people. It gave me a hard time. Then I lent it to Ute for Slovenia, and she was perfectly happy with it. And here I ended up taking it again, because of the space and the warm clothes. And the funny thing: it weighed exactly the same as in France, but this time I had no trouble with it.

 

 

Then the trail continued up to a kind of pass, where I could look down into the next valley. There were two lakes there. And that’s when I tried out my phone’s panorama function for the first time. Interesting!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The great thing about September: the colors! And the blueberries! I kept stopping, picking, and snacking.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Every now and then the sun peeked out a bit, and I immediately grabbed my phone—resulting in way too many landscape photos. And now I’m having a hard time editing.

 

 

 

 

Before it got any less pleasant, the hut came into view.

 

 

 

The Filmoor Standschutzhütte is special in that it was built in 1977 and is quite small. There’s one building with a dormitory containing 12 mattresses, and another building housing the kitchen, bar, and guest room all in one. It was run by three men, who were all heavy drinkers: one was the innkeeper, one the cook, and a younger guy was there just for two weeks to help—his aunt is the owner. In the guest room, two older gentlemen were already seated, having had their first alcoholic drinks, and two more guests were expected. There was also a dog named Jenny.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And so began an interesting time filled with stories. The two older gentlemen shared memories of good times with the now-deceased former hut keeper. The current hosts cooked dinner. The hut primarily finances itself through meals and day visitors—either from the valley or as a lunch stop for those heading straight to the next hut. On one hand, it was very simple (no showers, no small rooms); on the other, there was the luxury of hot water from the tap.

 

Later in the evening, the 2 remaining guests arrived: two women who had initially started on a more difficult path but had to turn back due to fear, which made their journey longer. And then the incredible happened: one of the women and one of the men knew each other! It took a little while, but eventually they recognized each other. They shared a lot of past connections—if I remember correctly, the man’s former roommate had been the woman’s ex-boyfriend, or something along those lines. And then there was a castle in Hessen, where the man had once lived with his roommate, and the woman lives there now—without the ex, of course. What a coincidence that these 2 people would meet on this tiny hut!

 

The man was married to the sister of the man he was traveling with. He was a somewhat well-known Professor of Medicine, specializing in psychosomatics. The other man was a teacher. I unfortunately don’t know anything about the women. There were very stimulating, intense political discussions, where we all agreed on points but were also puzzled by current developments. The young two-week helper from Graz was quite politically active, and one of the hut keepers was practically part of that scene too—but the cook, a trained restaurateur who had worked on cruise ships among other places, stood out a bit and preferred to talk about alcohol rather than politics..

 

All the men drank like crazy, but nobody puked or anything. By the end, the two guests had each spent around 70–80 euros just on alcohol—and they still received some Enzian shots as gifts. In any case, it was a very interesting evening, and I was happy about a) having booked this hut, b) the fascinating encounters, and c) not feeling at all bothered about being alone.

 

What I also learned: huts are rarely supplied by helicopter, because there’s always a minimum order required. Anything else needed for daily operations is actually carried up in 30 kg backpacks—either by the people themselves, or by friends, acquaintances, or local villagers helping out.

 

Sleeping went quite well too—nobody snored. And then there was more good news: the next day was forecasted to be rain-free! My weather prediction had promised heavy rain, so that was a relief!