Retrieving a Hiking Stick at Sonnenberg

I checked the weather on Saturday as usual and saw that next week was filled with snowstorms and cold weather. The obvious conclusion was that this weekend was my last chance to retrieve the hiking stick I lost on the way down from Sonnenberg (1622 m). Given the spot where I fell down, I thought it might be possible to descend nearby and climb back up to the spot where the stick was located.

I sent out a message, or more precisely a whining remark about the weather obscuring my chances to get my stick back, and several people replied willing to hike to the same cliff with me and help me find the stick. Stanislav, who joined me on the hike to Trainsjoch (1707 m), even took a snow shovel and some glacier spikes in case the terrain is rougher.

We started off slow and steady, following the dirt road towards Pürschlinghaus, eventually passing the known landmarks, such as Langtalalm and the hillside Josefs Kapelle. Soon after, we started seeing the Alpine hut itself, which was currently closed until the spring season comes into full swing. We kept going up, passing the point where I exited the forest and joined the road after falling down from the cliff.

When we walked to the trail going to the cliff top, it was fully covered in thick snow. As we didn't want to spend too much time getting stuck in it, I suggested following the road to the saddle on top of the ridge and walk backwards from there.

The others didn't have any strong opinions about our path, so they agreed and we went all the way to the top. After getting there, I was really surprised to see some footsteps leading in the direction of Sonnenberg (1622 m). On the other hand, I started getting a bit anxious too, since the chance someone took my stick was getting higher. Still, we already got to see some nice views on the other side of the ridge, including a glimpse of Zugspitze (2962 m), the tallest mountain in Germany that I ascended twice before.

We followed the marks left in the snow by the previous hikers, although they were quite far from the official path, and eventually got to the first via ferrata cable on the northern side of the ridge. At this point, the other footsteps took a sharp turn downhill and we never saw other footsteps again, meaning those people decided to abandon this route altogether.

This reassured me that I might still find my stick, but also meant the way ahead was more difficult than it already was. When we approached the secured area up close, we realized the cable was hidden under a big layer of ice and snow, and the surrounding slope was so steep that we would definitely fall down.

Thankfully, Stanislav took out his shovel and we took turns digging the snow and ice until we were able to properly go down and grab onto the cable. We fiddled a bit with our hiking sticks (I had one left, but the others were using the pairs they had), getting them down and across the cable-secured zone, but eventually we crossed it and approached a big split between two giant rocks.

This was the last cliff before Sonnenberg (1622 m), and we could already see the cross at the top, so the question about my stick came up. A few seconds after Stanislav asked: "So where would your stick be?", he shouted: "Stick! I see it!" The hiking pole was just dormant on the surface of the cliff, a few meters down from where I left it when I fell down the cliff myself. It was nothing short of a miracle, to see it on the bare surface in a largely accessible location. While the way to the mountaintop was leading right up one of the rocks at the split, the other hikers took a left turn and climbed up the other rock to catch a few rays of sun, waiting for me to retrieve my stick.

I borrowed the hiking poles of one of the other hikers and started climbing downhill to reach the spot where my pole was laying. At first, everything was going smoothly, although I did slip a little here and there. But when I approached my target, the ridge got much steeper, being bare rocks covered in a layer of ice and a bit of snow. There was nothing to hold onto and nowhere to secure my footing. I had to kick the ground ahead of me to make stable holes in the ice, while using the borrowed hiking poles and my freezing hand to keep balance. One time I even slipped down and started sliding the same way as the month before, but after much hardship I did reach the stick.

Now, holding three sticks in one hand and using the other for balance, I started walking backwards retracing my steps to join the others. Having anxiety from the previous fall and feeling tired overall, I knew that I had only one chance to walk back safely, otherwise I wouldn't have the strength to climb uphill back onto the main path.

Being very slow and careful to the point where I annoyed the other hikers waiting for me, I finally reached them, gave them all the sticks to hold, and climbed over a few final trees to get back onto the trail. From there on, we walked under a Sonnenberg (1622 m) rock overhang onto the crossroads leading to the top, Stanislav put on his glacier spikes and we got to the top.

Everyone commented about how I was lucky to be alive at all after a fall from the cliff, and how it was a miracle I didn't break anything. Although a month ago I was filled with adrenaline from the fall and didn't think much of it, looking back and seeing the cliff from a different angle made me realize that they were absolutely right, and that at my current experience level and lack of winter Alpine equipment, I should refrain from doing such dangerous trips.

With the main goal of the hike accomplished, the only job left was to get back. But when I turned around, I noticed a 60-ish year-old guy climbing the side of the Sonnenberg (1622 m) cliff after following our footsteps. When he got to the top, he explained that he was spending the night on a nearby mountaintop and was going to Unterammergau to get home, but he saw our footsteps entering the ridge and decided to follow along. When asked about his further plans, he packed up and told us he was done for the day. We assumed he meant going back to August-Schuster-Haus (also known as Pürschlinghaus), but he just smiled and started walking downhill straight towards Unterammergau. I assume his plan was to walk straight to Langtalalm or even Kolbensattelhütte.

Regardless, we got over our amazement by the whole situation and our adventure overall, and started going back by following the path we carved out previously. To my big relief, nothing major happened, we safely got to the via ferrata cable, climbed over a few fallen trees, then walked a while and climbed over the closed gate at the entrance to the ridge path. The gate itself was completely burried under a big layer of snow, so climbing over wasn't much of a challenge.

Leaving the ridge, we saw a pack of Alpine chamois having a toilet break, took a look at the views and went down. Passing by tons of hikers of all different levels on the dirt road, we reached the Schleifmühlklamm, a gorge with a bunch of waterfalls very close to Unterammergau. Since we already missed the chance to catch our train on time, we decided to visit the gorge instead, and had a lovely time looking at all the big and small waterfalls on the way. After reaching the town and walking past the snowmobile that saved me last time, we got to the train station and headed home.

Overall, I would say this is a medium hike when done in summer and should not be attempted at all in winter. With the constant snowstorms raging in the area every few weeks, the northern side of the ridge where most of the hike takes place doesn't have enough time to melt the snow. The steep slopes of the cliffs make it even more dangerous to stay there outside of the warm season. Even at the second half of March, there was still a lot of snow with no signs of it melting.

As for the summer variant, the ridge is pretty safe and secured in all dangerous spots, so it can be attempted by medium-level hikers. I would say that it can be compared in difficulty to Brecherspitz (1685 m). Having plenty of water and good shoes would definitely help though.