Großglockneralpenstraße - trail running 2026 - my 59th birthday :-)

Despite a meniscus rupture on my right knee I did the impossible ..... once again before I die :-)

I feel the shift beneath my feet the moment I leave the valley floor at Ferleiten. Ten years ago, climbing from Heiligenblut, the mountain felt different—warmer, perhaps, or simply approached from a gentler angle. Here on the northern flank, the silence is heavier. I start at 1,149 meters, my breath steady, stepping off the asphalt almost immediately onto the old pack-mule trails that cut straight through the larch forest and alpine meadows.

The distance is roughly 35 to 36 kilometers, with over 2,400 meters of vertical ascent pressing into the calves. It is not a roadside jog, but a true alpine traverse over the main ridge of the Hohe Tauern. The path climbs relentlessly toward Fuschertörl, the air sharpening with every hundred meters gained. Trees give way to dwarf pines, then to grey rock and thin grass. My heart hammers against my ribs, an old, familiar rhythm that connects this morning to that run a decade ago.

Above 2,000 meters, the trail climbs toward the Hochtor pass at 2,576 meters—the high point of the run and the ancient border between Salzburg and Carinthia. Crossing the pass, the wind hits cold and direct, smelling of snow and damp slate. Sweat cools instantly on my skin. I descend slightly into the southern bowl, navigating loose scree where every footfall demands absolute focus, before turning onto the final high-altitude trail traversing toward the Pasterze.

When Kaiser-Franz-Josefs-Höhe finally comes into view at 2,369 meters, the Großglockner looms ahead, vast and indifferent. My legs are heavy, salt-streaked, and empty, yet there is a deep clarity in having crossed the entire mountain range on foot, leaving the valley far behind to stand once more at the edge of the ice.

From here we return by our small motorcycles up to Zell am See.