The light patter of rain overhead faded soon into the night, and I slept soundly by the Salzach. I was up good and early, awaking to a not particularly bright but resolutely dry day that promised to improve. This was all to the good, and not just because I was sick of getting rained on and my tent was now properly dry - today would be another potentially challenging pass climb, this time off any sort of major road, and I was happy not to be fighting the rain and to have some visibility of the mountains I was slaving over.
Another simple breakfast - after exhausting the supplies I'd brought all the way from England, I kept failing to re-stock them properly at local shops, so was remarkable low on bread and basic supplies - I was ready to go just after 9. I headed over and said goodbye to Chris' girlfriend (whose name I failed to write down, and of course has now escaped me) and wished them luck for the second day of their touring adventure. I assured them the way south was good going, and the weather could only improve. She asked where I was headed - and I let them know that I too travel without a fixed plan or (since the first day) pre-booking anywhere to stay - "north-east, around Bad Ischl" was my estimate - which looked like something of a reassurance. They'll have a great time, I'm sure.
And with that I was off. My plan was indeed to keep working my way to the East, avoiding Salzburg itself - nothing personal Salzburg, but I didn't yet feel like urban campsites or checking into a hotel and sightseeing quite yet (that could come later). Of course, the very large Tennengau range stood in my way, some of which had been looming over the campsite last night. I would need to keep heading north up the Salzach to avoid the truly impassable Tennengebirge, and then there was the opportunity to cut east up the Lammer valley.
I was a bit trepidatious about this, as it's a major road, effectively the only one east in the area, and I couldn't get reliable information on whether there was a separate cycleway. But when sketching out the route a brainwave I'd had meant I shouldn't need to stay on it for long. There is a hairpinned, intriguing, lonely private road that winds its way up from the Lammer valley to the high village of Postalm at above 1000 metres, which is seems to be a (fairly rustic) ski resort. Down the better-established road on the other side would allow me to completely cross the Hohe Zinker, getting to a series of appealing-looking resorts around the Wolfgangsee near Bad Ischl. I would be sure to be able to camp there (no less than 9 symbols littered my map in a 5km radius), it would make good progress to the east without having to make a long loop north of Salzburg, and should be an unusual and picturesque route ... if I could withstand the ~800m climb, on a road I suspected would be much poorer graded that the Glosner pass.
The first task was to cover the remaining 20km north to Golling, where I could peel off into the Lammer valley. I was expecting this to be flat and somewhat prosaic riverside cycleway riding, and indeed it was as far as Werfen itself. However, Werfen does have a spectacular sentinel- the 900+ year old Hohenwerfen castle - which looms above the town and I could see approaching for many kilometres.
Leaving the campsite and back over the weir. A little cloudy but a great improvement.
"The legend of Mordegg". This caught my eye, as it really looks like he's being attacked by someone in a medieval plague costume. I think this describes some sort of feud between brothers over an iron mine in the mountains though!
One strange thing is I would sometimes spot nightclubs in the most out the way and rather bleak settings - like by the main road and an industrial estate. I guess the Austrians like their quiet and the clubs are relegated here so they don't annoy anyone. Nevertheless, it's not exactly inviting, is it?
Werfen is also a pleasant and interesting town in itself, and (when I felt a few drops of rain - fortunately passing) I decided to remedy my shortage situation and dive into a supermarket. I emerged with so many victuals (never shop hungry) that with the commendable, if slightly impractical lack of carrier bags in Austrian shops I ended dropping quite a few items over the cobbles before piling them into my panniers. I then dropped my mirror and had to spend some time crawling about looking for it under nearby cars. I think the burghers of Werfen probably thought I was a Mr Bean promotional act sent by the British council.
Whatever the wisdom of loading up my panniers before the big climb, I was now well stocked and left town. After a nice fast descent back to the river, losing a good hundred metres, I realised I wasn't wearing my gloves: I must have left them outside the supermarket! Groaning at my clumsiness, I dithered before turning around - only to see them sitting perfectly fine and unsecured on top of the rack. I think this is the cycling equivalent of driving away with your sunglasses on your car roof.
Good carving with strange perspective in Werfen - St. George and the dragon?
I was thinking of this stretch as being the prosaic bit before the adventure, but to my surprise the next 15km or so - following the river over the low Lueg pass - turned out to be unexpectedly dramatic. Unusually the river flow right through the pass, but through a very narrow gorge into which was crammed the railway and the old road.
There was no room for a cycleway, so I was sharing this with some traffic, but fortunately it was reasonably quiet, and even some fairly extensive roadworks didn't cause too much of a problem. It was pretty exhilarating dropping down into this tiny cleft in the mountains between the Tennengebirge and the Berchtesgarden alps (which forms a corner of the border with Germany) and then speeding along with the traffic.
Little climbing was actually needed over the Lueg pass - though I did cheat a bit by going through the (legal) tunnel, instead of over the steep summit which was signed for the cycleway. Then it was a drop all the way down to Golling.
Descending and crossing the Salzach, we're heading for this cleft in the mountains. It's quite a major road at this point, but with a nice wide shoulder.
I was a bit worried when I saw roadworks, and even more when I saw a sign saying the traffic lights were on a 10 minute timer. How long did they go on?
Fortunately they were actually pretty brief, and there was plenty of room for cars to get by me (though they needed a little encouragement in the form of me waving them on before they would...). That's the railway diving into a tunnel on the left, to avoid going over the Lueg pass.
Monument on the Lueg pass. From this side it barely registers (550m), but it's quite a climb up from Salzburg in the other direction. Chris and his girlfriend must have had a bit of a haul over this stretch on their first day.
I quickly cut through the outskirts of Golling, a place now bypass from the motorway and so having something of a cut-off air, and with no fuss found the road heading east up the Lammer valley. It was carrying a fair amount of traffic, and there was some uncertainty about whether there was any kind of off-road cycleway; my map reckoned not. So I was very pleased to be immediately see signs pointing to the Lammer Radwanderweg, with distances as far as the show-caves at Lammerklamm. This wouldn't quite get me to the turn off for the Postalm road, but would keep me off the road for the lion's share.
The day was now completely clear, and as I worked my way east through pleasant woods alongside the pleasingly wild Lammer (compared to the Salzach), the sun came out and the hills closed in around the valley. Again, I was surprised by how dramatically and quickly the scenery surrounded me. Yet the route was fairly flat, until I came to Oberscheffau, where a stiff 10% climb up to the caves - very thankful to be off the road for this stretch - brought be back to my senses.
At the caves I took a breather. I was making really good progress, and since the caves were clearly open, I was a bit tempted to go in for a visit. I figured I didn't want to lose momentum though, and steeled myself for the unavoidable but short 4km on the road before I could turn off at Pichl. This was the busiest stretch of road I'd had to cycle so far, and I'd be lying if I said it was entirely pleasant, but fortunately it was mostly a descent back to the river, and the drivers were excellent as always and put up admirably with my puffing on the uphills.
I arrived at the turn unscathed but glad to leave the road - despite the big climb ahead, I actually felt pretty confident about that (I mean, the worst that could happen is I get off and push) - I'd been worried about this stretch of road for a few days, and the cycleway had been a godsend.
Leaving Golling. It beats the gnomes, that's for sure!
It seems to be marked on only some maps, so I was very glad to see this completely separate cycleway allowed me to avoid the busy road for over 10km. Unfortunately, unless you want to continue through the mountains to Abentau, it peters out at the caves
Having a breather and steeling myself for going on the road itself, by the caves. I was slightly tempted to pay them a visit, but doing so before lunch and tackling the pass probably wouldn't have been a good idea
I completely left the traffic behind, and as I worked my way through the quiet villages in the valley on the north bank of the Lammer the sun lit up the scene beautifully. Yet it was still refreshingly cool. Apart from the minor inconvenience that I managed to break the arm off my (£6) sunglasses as I fumbled to get them out - the first time they'd seen real action in several days - it was looking like really good conditions for the climb.
Finding the Postalm road was no problem at all - in fact, it was signed so well, I was slightly worried that it might be used as a "scenic drive" and I'd have to worry about cars struggling to pass me. But there was little evidence of that, and I was greatly reassured both to see that it was signed all the way to the Wolfgangsee, and was explicitly marked offen. I peeled off out the village and began to climb, at a stiff but manageable grade, through really lovely verdant alpine meadows.
The start of the Postalm road in Voglau. A private toll route, and not entirely well maintained, this is a great way to cross the mountains while getting away from the traffic and with a little sense of adventure.
It was cool under the trees, but emerging into the now neon-bright sunlight (why do I always end up climbing near noon?) I started to get seriously warm on the open stretches. The fantastic views more than made up for it though, and climbing was very sustainable - I was amazed that I wasn't even using the granny, and felt like I could keep it up for hours. My sense this tour was I'd become quite seriously slower, but my hill climbing was much improved.
I was passed by no traffic other than a few motorcyclists, revving to get up the hills, but passing me courteously as always. This didn't stop me shouting "cheaters!" at them, after they'd gone around the next bend of course.
I am always amazed at how extensive, and how steep, these alpine meadows are before the land is given over to forests. There always seem to be hidden shelves of cultivation, high above the valley floor - but then there are also 50% gradient slopes, all neatly mowed, where I'm amazed that they're worth the trouble of cultivation. It leads the landscape both a dramatic and cosy air, very peculiar to Austria and Switzerland.
I had started climbing from about 550 metres, and knew the top was somewhere around 1300m. As well as the altimeter, regular markers on the bends of the hairpins let me know I was comfortably above 800m. These hairpins always revealed extraordinary vistas back down over the valleys, and the high alpine farms over which I had climbed. For the first time, it was also clear enough to see over long distances, and the bigger mountains marching behind really made the view spectacular.
Who's this chump? Considering that my sunglasses were holding on by one arm, they're remarkably straight here. They would become increasingly wonky, and I'd look increasingly ridiculous, for the next week of the tour.
At around 1000m I saw a strange structure up ahead on the road, and realised it was the toll booth. Unmanned and automated, it's pretty expensive to take cars over, which fortunately keeps most of them out. Bikes are free, but weird there's no actual way for them past the barrier, so you have to squeeze around the side.
Now I'd have to start climbing in earnest. The road narrowed, and the surface became quite a bit rougher, but the gradients remained mercifully reasonable. I kept plugging away uphill, the views now somewhat hidden as the road passed into a long channel cutting its way up the hillside, and we left the alpine meadows behind and entered dense pine forest.
My only company here was a vague shape in my rear-view mirror, which resolved into another cyclist. On an unladen road bike, I knew he'd pass me soon enough - when he did he gave me a heart greeting and a wonderfully cartoonish double-take at the loading on the Shift. I grinned back with a "yep, I know this is a nutty thing to do, but I've got this far" shrug.
From here the surface got a lot worse - big potholes and loose gravel meant the gradient became something of a problem for the first time. I kept it together though, and managed to keep the shift upright as I pootled along below 5kph, weaving across the empty road to reduce the effective gradient.
Passing into the woods it clouded in with remarkable speed - I think we must have climbed into the clouds rather than them coming to us - and I had a brief soaking in a rather refreshingly cool rain shower. Then almost as soon as it arrived, the sun was out again, making the road steam and the landscape generally be swallowed in mist.
The toll booth for the private road. As usual, bikes are free.
In places here the road is very broken up, and was quite difficult to get purchase on in the steep places. I really wouldn't like to see a tour bus trying to get up here
In the forest, I went over a saddle and left the views into the Lammertal behind for good. After some - very controlled - descending, I started to climb once more. A glance at the GPS told me I was now at 1,300m, and I figured this was the last push up to Postalm itself.
I'm amazed, but I didn't take a single photo of Postalm itself - it passed so quickly, and there was so little there of any note. A handful of quite traditional, but not particularly distinctive, high alpine farms, that have clearly diversified into outdoors tourism. There were a few tourists hanging around, and some cars and a bus parked, which had clearly come up the road ahead to the north. Still, it is pleasingly undeveloped - there were no ski lifts or concrete hotels - and really did feel very cut-off. It must be very remote in the depths of winter.
This is my only real photo in Postalm itself - a farmshop for cheese. I bet it is very good, though.
There was one last climb from the hamlet, and then the descent began. I had some company now, as some of the other tourists had brought bikes up here and were now riding the descent back down to the Wolfgangsee (cheaters!). I hung behind them, as I didn't want to build up too much speed, but they were on solid mountain bikes and with my incredible momentum it wasn't long before I passed them.
Then it was a continuous, serpentine descent, with breathtaking views but a wet and slightly hairy road on which I never wanted to build up much speed, let alone ride one-handed to take photos (or stop). In 20 minutes I covered 10km, with my hands getting increasingly sore from squeezing the brakes and getting seriously chilled in the onrushing air. The brakes did fine - the tune-up on the Glosner had done them good, and I had no real fears about them stopping me - but I was still breathing hard by the time I rolled to the bottom at Weißenbach.
Starting the descent - fortunately, the surface was much better on this side
I stopped, warmed up, and took stock. What a great ride! The whole day had gone much smoother than even I'd hoped, and I was now roughly where I wanted to be, and it was still early afternoon. I figured I'd head to the lakeside town of Strobl, which looked like a pleasant spot for lunch, and decide what to do next.
The vibe immediately changed upon reaching Strobl from rather obscure mountain hamlet, to very plush wellness resort. I passed grand spa hotels, and people of all ages with towels, hurrying back and forth from the lake.
The lakeside itself was lovely, totally open in a big municipal park and with great views over the lake. The only downside was - yep, the rain came down again, not hard, but for the first time I really was cold. After sheltering for a while it turned to drizzle, and seeing quite a few other hardy souls determinedly sitting by the lakeside, I put on all my layers and ate a surprisingly cosy lunch under a big, sheltering tree. I got quite a few nods and smiles of as people in the park acknowledged a fellow rain-braver.
Fancy spa-hotel in Strobl. I did wonder why there were so many guys wondering around with towels.
The really attractive town square faces right onto the lake. Unfortunately the bipolar weather made it difficult to stand and around and appreciate it.
My chilly, but strangely comforting lunch, sheltering under a tree in the drizzle. It seemed a long time ago I'd picked up all this food in Werfen. Some other hardy souls can be seen under an umbrella in the background.
To my delight, after lunch the weather started to clear -and become really beautiful. I was pretty exhausted after such a full morning - and so even though it was still just past 3 and I had only 70km on the clock it was time to stop. There were so many good options in the area, and I would have been very surprised to find anywhere as attractive - it was the natural place to stop.
The Salzkammergut radweg runs all the way through the series of lakes and spa towns of this area (eventually joining the Mozart radweg near Salzburg). So it was easy to follow that around the lake and towards the series of campsites marked on my map. I knew one was closed, but some phone-based searching the night before had indicated that one, Camping Seewinkl, was operational and was cheap and back-to-basics, being run on a working farm.
This sounded great, and I headed straight for it. Indeed, it was an amazing place, with more farm than camping and the few awning tents and RVs being surrounded by farm buildings and mooing cows. But a price list (€10 for tent and a person) was by the farmhouse door, and when I rang the bell a chap popped his head out of the upper window, and laconically pointed me to a nice grassy, flat and sheltered corner I could set up.
To my delight the weather and visibility improved as I finished my lunch
Putting up the tent I was slightly disconcerted by the incredibly loud mooing of a bovine beast in the field behind the house. Soon all the cattle were taken in a processing down to another field though. Quite a rustic place!
It was still very early, so after getting set up I left the bike and wandered lazily around the shore. Within a few hundred metres I came to a bathing beach. I wasn't tempted to bathe, but it was a great place to sit and read for a while, planning next day's route and eyeballing the map. One lady bather was in, talking to nobody in particular evidently about how cold it was. I happily sat and watched the afternoon wear into evening.
The lake looked pretty great. This is St. Wolfgang on the other side.
As evening wore on, I wandered a little further west along the lake shore, wondering whether the settlements marked at Gschwand on my map might also have a nice restaurant. One other campsite was open, and another had signs saying closed for coronavirus. A couple of cycle tourists were sitting nearby - I suspected they had plans to camp there anyway, and I can't say I blame them. There was a really nice looking Italian restaurant attached, but sadly it also looked closed up.
I went a little further and then figured that my best options were likely in Strobl, which was only 4km or so away. Fortunately, I decided to take the bike - it's easy to underestimate just how much of a pain it is to walk 4km in the dark after a big meal. After picking it up from the campsite (and getting thoroughly barked at by some fellow campers' dog, much to all of our amusement) I headed into town to hit up the Carl-Zone.
Aside from my tactical error of sitting outside - it really was not that warm, and I soon moved in - this was the best pizza I had in Austria. Still not 100% on the money, but pretty damn good, and inexpensive. Check out the Carl-Zone if you're in Strobl.
After getting cosy inside, I didn't want to leave so had another wheat beer and finished off Cold Comfort Farm while surrounded by quite a number of locals. Then it was back out into the really pitch black, to tackle the empty cycleway - fortunately I had good lights. Then a really dreamless sleep.
There were also some incredible-looking mansions around the lake. Great wrought-iron gate.
