Been there, done that – and yet another peak: Hector is keen on snowshoeing and thus we head off to Spitzingsee.
After a colourful sunrise we start relaxed at 8:00 am and even though we are not alone on the streets, there is (astounding enough) no rush towards the Alps. When confronted with 550 m height difference, Hector spontaneously decides to stay at the Spitzingsee parking while I rent some snowshoes and start moving uphill.
The path winds up through the forest and I try to enjoy the constant effort. Actually, most the time it is above all: effort. But even when wondering why I am doing all of this mountain exercise stuff, I still see the beauty that surrounds me and appreciate that I live just an hour away from the Alps.
Approximately ½ of the altitude difference is spread over romantic paths in the forest. Now I look at the other half and I wonder: Shall I take the black ski slope, straight uphill? Or should I choose the natural mogul piste straight up?
With confidence in my snowshoes and based on the sheer ignorance of any appearing difficulty I manage to climb up the mogul field up to the peak of the Rosskopf. Sure enough I find the lazy skiers that use the ski lift hilariously unathletic. I pass them by in silence as I make my way to the cross.
The view exceeds today’s expectations and that is not only due to sporty tour skiers changing their clothes. Two weather fronts struggle one against the other, leading to white-gleaming peaks beneath a fretful sky.
For the way down, I choose the black ski piste and my buttocks as extra breaks. 1,5 hours later I am back down at the Spitzingsee and enjoy the view on the frozen lake with the only required movement being the arm with the hot wine punch getting eventually up and down.