Bikepacking the Austrian Salzkammergut: A Journey of One Thousand Miles (Part 4)

Bikepacking the Austrian Salzkammergut, the final leg on my journey of one thousand miles! From sunny Slovenia, I was greeted by rain and thunderstorms in Austria. The objective was Vienna. From Villach, Vienna was a pretty reasonable distance. But I didn’t come to alps for reasonable distance. I came to the alps to explore. I’d heard wonderful things about the Salzkammergut region and the Danube Trail, so instead of heading directly north east to Vienna, I set off West. As you do.

A key thing for me on this trip was sticking to cycle networks. It kept me off the roads, often on gravel, whilst making navigation so much easier. I hate using devices and looking at screens to navigate, I wanted to follow signs and take in the scenery around me.

Switzerland and Italy contained a fantastic cycle network. As did Austria – however the sign posting was utterly terrible. Every sign was either right on the junction or after it. You had to stop at every junction to check which was the right way, only to turn the corner and see the sign. Every post was infuriatingly late or behind a bush.

That said, when you could find them, the trails were in pretty good condition.

From Villach, my route across the Austrian Alps took me along the banks of the Drau, following the riverside cycle path. Once more, in the rain. Bikepacking the Austrian Salzkammergut in the rain isn’t so bad. But the forecast was perpetual rain for the next 24 hours. I wasn’t too keen on the cooking and camping bit in the rain. Wet kit is okay when you know you’ll get an opportunity to dry it out. That opportunity wasn’t anytime soon according to the forecasts.

Combine that with still feeling pretty broken after Italy, plus nearly 600km to do in 4 days! I set out looking for a physical challenge. I knew there would be no shortcuts, this was mental endurance.

My only recollections from that first day bikepacking the Austrian Salzkammergut were the horrific thunderstorms, torrential rain and eating a Schnitzelwelt absolutely dripping wet through. Still, being British, rain isn’t something I can’t deal with!

From the river Drau, I was to head north to Halstatt. The weather gods took pity on me that morning, allowing me just enough time to get up and decamp before commencing the days deluge. The deluge lasted all day, it didn’t stop once on the 150km route. I optimistically hoped with 2800m ascent planned, the mountains might create some changing weather. Nope.

140km in, soaking wet through, the main and only road into Halstatt was closed. Broken and completely washed away in sudden flash floods. The soft sand banking had collapsed under the road, tearing the tarmac apart. The diversion was 35km, which I was not overly keen on given the ridiculous weather!

With cars queuing and people getting out to assess the situation, I engaged an Austrian construction worker in friendly conversation amongst the growing chaos. My German is broken at best, but we exchanged a few jokes… mostly at my expense.

I decided to ask the stupid question, on a hope and a prayer, if there was any way to cross. He laughed and looked at the road ‘Not possible, road gone’ was the immediate response. Before I had time to process what this meant, he turned to me quietly and gestured through the nearby bushes ‘but if close my eyes and turn around, you can sneak through’.

I smirked. What on earth was he referring to. I set my bike aside and clambered into the bushes. Sure enough, there was a solid wooden plank of 8×2 bridging the gap across the river. Just wide enough for a person to walk over.

It was sketchy as hell to contemplate taking a bike across. One slip, me and my bike would be off down the river chasing the broken road!

Still. It seemed a better idea than a 35km diversion. With my sanity diminished but my spirits brightened, I decided to go for it. Of all the obstacles faced bikepacking a journey of one thousand miles, this wasn’t going to stop me at this stage.

I was greeted on the opposite side by some startled faces. They had seen me and my bike on the other side of collapsed road not 5 minutes ago. As if by magic!

The next 10km into Halstatt were pretty amusing. Every single car driving the opposite way had no idea what was coming. Oh how they wished they were bikepacking the Austrian Salzkammergut in the pouring rain, for it was the only way you were getting past that obstacle!

Halstatt is pretty famed for the narrow streets and well photographed church spire. It sits right on the shore of Halstattersee and is geographically constrained by the lake and its mountainous background. Majority of the houses are built on struts which sit in the lake. It’s a really cool, quirky little town. But completely overrun with tourists. 

I came to Halstatt not for photos, but to pick up the Salzkammergut trail. Obviously I got the photo whilst I was there! But to be honest I cared more for a dirty, greasy kebab and a beer than I did for tourist attractions.

I was mightily relieved the next day to see some brighter weather had arrived. Perfect weather for exploring gravel trails, lakes and bikepacking the Austrian Salzkammergut.

Altuassee was magical. One of the most beautiful lakes I’ve ever set eyes on, shimmering emerald green & surrounded by mountains. The perfect spot for second breakfast.

Was it worth cycling so far out of my way in terrible weather for, perhaps not, but to witness it with my own eyes was another one off the bucketlist. Bikepacking the Austrian Salzkammergut was brilliant, by far and away my favourite area of Austria.

It was a slow day, it took me till 3pm to cover 70km up to Gmunden. Taking it slow and steady, enjoying the mountain and lakeside scenery. Traunsee was equally impressive. From Gmunden, I didn’t have much of a plan. I knew I needed to get to Linz to pick up the Danube trail and then the Danube trail would take me all the way into Vienna. I figured I’d ride the 75km to Linz, with multiple ice cream stops and see how I felt from there.

I’d never felt such relief when setting eyes upon the Danube. It looked appalling, far from the glorious tales’ id heard about it. It was flat, dirty and industrialised.

But it was flat, it was the home straight! It was a 180km home straight mind. But it had zero ascent! With 23’000m ascent in my legs and 12 days of fatigue, I can’t even begin to describe the sheer relief I felt here.

My morale was boosted. I felt inspired having just seen Fiona Kollbinger absolutely smash the Transcontinental race. I was 150km up that day and it was 8pm. I decided to ride till I could ride no further. I rode well past darkness that evening, full of motivation that whatever I took out of the ride that night, I wouldn’t have to do tomorrow – and the earlier I could get hold of a beer in Vienna!

I managed to get my distance up to 220km that evening, leaving around 110km left. I’ve never ridden that kind of distance before and I certainly didn’t know I could, not with the amount of fatigue I’d accumulated and all the kit I was carrying. Just goes to show, you don’t know what you’re capable of till you try! I devoured my Firepot noodles in record time that evening and treated myself to a Veloforte desert too!

I’ll be honest, aside from the Salzkammergut lakes, Austria was a bit of a distance slog. Particularly with the bad weather. I was glad to be done in the end. I wanted a challenge, but I asked a lot of my body in those final few days. I wasn’t sleeping well, or eating well, I was just doing what I could to complete the ride. It wasn’t healthy. But you have to do these things to learn what’s comfortable and what isn’t. Bikepacking the Austrian Salzkammergut may have been far more enjoyable had it been at the start of the ride.

My final day was so many reasons to smile. Just a simple cruise along the Danube, actually in the sun! The Danube grew on me. Whether it was the fact it was the end of the ride, or just flat. It certainly wasn’t as spectacular as the alpine passes, but to see just how many people on bikes it attracted was impressive. From commuters to tourers, from ‘serious’ cyclists to those just out chilling, from families to solo riders, it attracted hundreds and hundreds. Kudos Austria!

Arriving in Vienna was actually a bit of an anti-climax. After clocking up over 1000miles across 13 days riding, you might expect a more significant end. Instead the trail simply entered more built up territory and eventually the city centre. There was no ‘welcome to Vienna’ sign, signalling you had actually made it to Vienna. Instead I found myself just wondering where on earth this ride actually finished! I cycled along the river, admiring street art looking out for a finish line. I decided a bar would be the finish line, any bar; one that could be considered city centre, near Stephansplatz. I spotted one, with a little wooden terrace. That’ll do. That’s the finishing line of my 1000 mile trans-alpine bikepacking adventure!

I took my seat outside, set my helmet aside and ordered a beer. The world continued to pass by as nothing had happened. Inside I was jumping for joy, elated at what I had achieved. Yet no one else around had a clue!

Sat in a bar with the world oblivious to me. I pondered, actually that was the inconspicuous and insignificant ending I wanted. Nobody to serenade me or force a conversation out of me, just my moment to sit back and simply enjoy the feeling of what I had accomplished. I sat, proud as punch, grinning from ear to ear, drinking beer after beer. That beer was the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Having graduated with a first class bachelor’s of engineering only weeks before this ride, I’ve never felt so accomplished. My solo and unsupported ride, that I’d dreamt up, planned and executed, now complete.

Thanks for reading and following my 1000 mile trans-alpine bikepacking adventure, your support means a lot as always. The comments and kind words I’ve received throughout this journey have helped no end, especially when cycling alone in the middle of nowhere in the pouring rain!

What next…?