Day 1

The Alexander Enzinger Weg is a high-alpine hiking trail above Kaprun, offering panoramic views of the Hohe Tauern and a scenic approach to the historic Krefelder Hütte. The path unfolds gently at first, tracing high meadows and broad slopes where grasses ripple like water and cowbells echo across distance. 

This is classic Hohe Tauern scenery: open, luminous, and quietly powerful. On clear days, the view stretches far beyond Zell am See, across layered ridgelines and into the distant silhouettes of Austria’s highest peaks.

As you continue, the Alexander-Enzinger-Weg becomes more alpine in character. The trail becomes more defined, and the landscape more dramatic. Alpine roses bloom here in early summer, painting the slopes pink and red, while edelweiss and gentians cling stubbornly to gravelly ground. There’s a sense that life here is earned, not given. Chamois sometimes appear on distant ridges, perfectly balanced in places that seem impossible to reach.

The trail is named after Alexander Enzinger, a pioneer of alpine tourism and cable car development in Kaprun, and walking it feels like following an early vision of mountain accessibility—one that balances human curiosity with respect for nature. Unlike dramatic summit pushes, this path celebrates the in-between: the quiet ridges, the high basins, the spaces where effort meets reward without spectacle.

Eventually, the Krefelder Hütte comes into view, resting confidently on its perch beneath the surrounding peaks. Built in 1907 by the Krefeld section of the Alpine Club, the hut carries with it a century of mountain stories—of early mountaineers arriving in heavy wool, of writers and thinkers seeking inspiration, of long evenings warmed by simple food and shared exhaustion

Sitting outside the hut, the world seems vast yet strangely intimate. The peaks loom close, the valley feels impossibly far away, and time stretches gently. There’s no rush to descend, no urge to document every moment.

The Alexander-Enzinger-Weg isn’t about conquering distance or altitude; it’s about moving steadily through a landscape that rewards attention. It’s a walk for those who enjoy the long way around, who understand that the true highlight often isn’t the destination, but the quiet unfolding of the path itself.

On clear days, the light feels almost crystalline, sharpening every contour and lending the landscape a quiet intensity. The higher you walk, the more the horizon seems to drop away, leaving you suspended between sky and earth, with only the path and the sound of your own footsteps to anchor you.

The wide, open plateaus narrow into subtle folds of terrain, where wind-carved rocks lie scattered like forgotten relics of the mountain’s slow history. Below, the valley opens in layers—dark green forests giving way to lighter alpine pastures, then dissolving into hazy distance.

The day was continued with a road trip through the Großglockner Hochalpenstraße heading south towards the accommodation near Sagritz. The Großglocknerstraße is a legendary alpine street between the valleys of Salzburg and Carinthia, which is open just during the summer season, starting with 1st of June. The Großglocknerstraße is less a road and more a slow unfolding of altitude, weather, and perspective.

As the road climbs higher, the scenery becomes increasingly raw and expressive. Dense forests give way to open alpine pastures, then to bare rock and sweeping slopes shaped by ice and time. Water is everywhere here—rushing down steep gullies, spilling across stone in thin silver lines, gathering briefly in quiet pools before continuing its descent. Marmots dart across the roadside, unbothered by passing cars, and the silence between engines feels vast and almost sacred. The Großglocknerstraße was conceived in the 1930s not just as a feat of engineering, but as a way to make this world accessible, and driving it still carries that sense of wonder: of being allowed into a place that once belonged only to mountaineers and shepherds.

Higher still, the landscape turns unmistakably alpine. Hairpin bends stack upon one another, each revealing a new angle of the surrounding peaks. The Großglockner itself appears and disappears between ridges, never fully revealed at once, as if demanding patience. At viewpoints like the Edelweißspitze or the Kaiser-Franz-Josefs-Höhe, the scale of the Hohe Tauern becomes overwhelming. Glaciers cling to shaded slopes, their pale blues and whites contrasting sharply with dark rock. Standing here, the valley feels impossibly far away, reduced to memory rather than place.

What makes the Großglocknerstraße special isn’t speed or destination, but the way it encourages lingering. Small pull-offs invite you to stop, step out, and simply absorb the vastness. Wind carries the scent of stone and cold water, clouds drift low and fast, and the weather can change in minutes—sunlight giving way to mist, then returning just as suddenly. It’s a reminder that this is still a living mountain world, governed by its own rules.