Dachstein Loop e-powered by Bosch

"The Märchenwiese in Ramsau, where the trail winds up to the Dachstein south face!"
"Die Öfen!"
"But not without first having a Krapfen at the Ritzinger Hut..."
"Pflindsberg, of course, with the view of Altaussee, Trisselwand and the lake."
"Bachlalm with its marmots."
"East shore trail!"
"The Ödensee and the Kohlröserl Hut."

It's been almost two decades now. Since then the now-retired baker and the former teacher of physical education, geography and German have volunteered countless hours. Whenever the snowmelt permitted, they set out. First the lower-lying passages, later the climbs and alpine pastures. Approach by car, finalization by bike, with a cordless drill, signs and screws in tow.
They watched e-bikes arrive and traditional mountain bikes give way. Even their own fleet is now motorized — initially a concession to Walter's lung disease; today Rosi also wouldn't want to miss the relief provided at the push of a button. All the more with a smile they recall their earlier Kettlers and Marins, and their delighted astonishment when the first legal tour offerings in the Salzkammergut finally no longer forced them to detour into the neighboring country.

We are sitting with the Putz couple in the beer garden of the Agathawirt as they tell us their story. For the Dachsteinrunde and its riders, the traditional country inn at the foot of the Pötschen, with its mighty trees, thick house walls and magnificent culinary creations, has been a go-to spot from the very beginning.
Landlady Andrea Schenner joins us. She is one of the earliest and most ardent supporters of the project and has championed it to this day as a committed host with heart and soul. The latest proof: the barn freshly converted into an e-bike garage, where, among other things, twelve Bosch chargers are in operation. With only a tiny delay, Martin Huber finally drifts in as well — as the mastermind behind the Salzkammergut Trophy, he has played a role in shaping the region's tourist highlights.
Our kick-off into the Dachsteinrunde epowered by Bosch adventure couldn't have been staged more fittingly than with this group.

At first glance nothing has changed. Quiet and peaceful, the huts and Trempel lie in the hollow; cowbells jingle in the distance, and from even farther off the bare rock faces of several two-thousand-metre peaks greet you. Hungry hikers refresh themselves with a Brettljause and Kasnocken, bikers with flushed faces search after the 800 vertical metres of ascent for shady spots. Marianne comes out smiling friendly. Colourfully patterned work dress, white apron, short black hair – just like at our last meeting in 2006. Time seems to have passed completely without a trace for the dairymaid at the Viehbergalm.
On second glance, of course, many things are different. Mostly e‑bikes are leaning against the fences of the Ritzingerhütte and co.; instead of asking first for food and drink, many now ask first for a charging option (unfortunately, no!). People happily order, alongside homemade juices, buttermilk and alpine coffee, a decent glass of wine. And the water for washing and running the place is no longer scarce thanks to major investments in spring catchment. Life with all its trends, needs and marketing ideas (specifically it’s the "Almkulinarik by Richard Rauch" that brings the Sauvignon Blanc from Strauss in Gamlitz and the Blauer Zweigelt from Dworschak in Leutschach into the Kemet mountains) does not stop even at the highest point of the first Dachsteinrunden stage.

For 20 years Marianne Gruber has now spent every summer on the Viehbergalm. And in doing so she celebrates the same anniversary as the Dachsteinrunde, whose route passes right by her hut (Tip: overnight accommodation available!). The farmer from Gröbming is one of many friends, supporters, beneficiaries, helpers, companions and pioneers of this cross-border multi-day tour. The 66-year-old is, however, much more certain about the dates and origin story than the people responsible for the classic MTB tour:
1998 her two daughters Birgit and Bernadette decided, one a university student, the other completing her high school diploma, to go to the alpine pasture as a summer/seasonal job. Legendary within the family to this day was their demand at the time: "Dad, we need two cows!" Four summers later, the cheese-making they had taught themselves was perfected, the ancient hut with its earthen cellar and candlelight had been converted into a somewhat habitable home, a new butter churn had been purchased — and the dairywomen duo were newly married. And so Marianne had to apprentice with her daughters and continue the hospitality business.

By contrast, the exact beginnings — let alone the instigators — of the Dachsteinrunde can now only be reconstructed with great difficulty (of course we tried anyway; see further below). Our own annals, earlier stories and documented links to the Salzburger Almentour, three years younger, show in any case: it must have been 2002 when the first signposts for the cross-border multi-day tour were driven into the ground.

With its early origin and scenic beauty, the Dachsteinrunde — which mainly runs over gravel forest roads and paved secondary roads — quickly and lastingly earned a place on the bucket lists of local tour bikers. Apart from the much longer Alpine tour, which isn’t run as a circuit, there were hardly any legal opportunities to indulge in mountain biking as a hobby — especially as a mass-friendly weekend trip or short holiday.
Over time, tourism officials cleverly added a counter-clockwise variant ("red"), several physically and/or technically demanding additions ("black") and, most recently, a gourmet and wellness version (4 days), and the originally blue-marked circuit around the Dachstein was professionally marketed by Upper Austria Tourism (OÖ Tourismus) including luggage transport. The route enjoyed sustained popularity for a long time before it lost a bit of momentum with the rising trail enthusiasm.

In the light of the COVID-19 pandemic, the number of Dachsteinrunde bikers — as every innkeeper and accommodation provider we asked along the way told us — is rising again. But only a few now ride classic mountain bikes. Instead they mount their newly purchased or longer-used e‑MTBs and relatively effortlessly beam themselves over mountains and borders. And rather than touring in groups of friends or club settings as before, they more often go out with their partners or significant others.
At the same time, the tourism managers of the five involved tourism associations are drawing up refresh plans. The distinction between Dachsteinrunde red and blue will probably soon be obsolete; the gradient differences that depend on direction of travel are too minor in the era of e‑bikes. In autumn 2021 the re-signposting of the two remaining variants will begin in accordance with the standard recently adopted from Salzburg.
The "electrification" of the Dachsteinrunde has largely already been realized: numerous partner businesses along the route (see detailed list in the infobox at the very bottom) have been equipped with Bosch fast chargers, which make recharging e‑bike batteries quick and comfortable during a coffee break, lunch stop or afternoon snack. This project, called "Dachsteinrunde epowered by Bosch", offers the huge advantage over carrying a spare battery — an advantage we also fully enjoyed, together with state-of-the-art rental bikes from Goisern Bikeworld.
And then there's the "Dachsteinrunde VR", another variant poised to start, which from now on promises to bridge the gap from the classic offering to modern implementation and from tour biking to stage racing: modeled on the Salzkammergut Trophy Individuell, the multi-day tour can now — using a tracking app — be completed against the clock (or, on an e‑bike, as a challenge to make it through) for the first time, at least along one daily ascent. The marking work to highlight the start and control points as well as stages for this purpose is to be completed by August 13. Outside these timed sections, breaks, enjoying nature, stops at inns and even free route choice are possible.

"Oops! You have no internet connection!" Instead of an interim result from the decisive climb of the first stage, the app responsible for locating and measuring on the Viehbergalm only gives us an error message. The pitfalls of modern technology ...
Maybe the software still running in the background will come to its senses when it reconnects later? In any case, it's good that, as a backup and proof to be included in the Dachsteinrunde VR ranking, post-uploading the GPS track is accepted.

Be that as it may, especially since we, as e-bikers, weren't riding for time in the virtual ranking. Dachstein glacier glow in the morning sun, the crossing into Styria via the "individual variant" Halleralm and Pötschenwand, the magnificent Ödensee and its tastefully dressed-up Kohlröserl Hut with its attached gourmet shop, the fjord-like Salza reservoir where rowboats and stand-up paddleboards coexisted so peacefully ... We've already seen far too many beautiful things today to let a smartphone app spoil our mood!
Not to mention the other highlights of the day still to come: the wildly romantic gorge called Öfen, which cuts so spectacularly through Stoderzinken and Kamm and makes the road that runs through it plunge almost as steeply down as the Gröbminger stream within it; the Enns Valley with its green meadows and varied natural trails, sometimes right beside the river, sometimes up and down through the forest; the excellent cuisine of Franz Danklmaier Jr., Grafenwirt in Aich and the creative mind behind the modernly interpreted, down-to-earth culinary concept; and last but not least: the ascent to the Dachstein south face, capped off with apple strudel at the Brandalm.

Attentive, project- or location-savvy readers will have noticed by now: With our route mix and daily mileage we’re barreling wildly through the Dachstein-route portfolio.
With a shortened version of the Goiserer loop to start and the planned extra lap in Ramsau, we’re venturing into decidedly extreme territory. At the same time, the stage towns Bad Goisern and Filzmoos — only two instead of the commonly recommended three — point to a fundamentally ambitious undertaking.
“We have e-bikes,” offered as a comforting pill, only helps to a limited extent. It’s true the legs are relieved in proportion to how the Bosch motors hum. But even the fastest of fast chargers, which we fortunately find at several charging stations (also noted in the Spoferan app), force us — camera-backpack-laden, held back by photo assignments — into more than one multi-hour break.

Conversely, shortcuts and road variants, detours and bike paths have always made it possible to take the fright out of certain challenges of the Dachstein loop or to avoid them altogether.
What has proven especially useful for groups with uneven fitness levels has therefore been adopted as a rule in the modern VR offshoot: except for the three timed sections, the route can be chosen freely, so the existing route and its variants are no more than a (good) recommendation — one you can, for example, safely deviate from in bad weather.

It is early afternoon, the sun is shining from a brilliantly blue sky. With just over 70 kilometres and 2,000 metres of ascent on the displays we've earned our second break after the delicately creative “Bögl brunch” at the Kohlröserl Hut.
We don't yet suspect that a good way further to the southwest the atmosphere is beginning to heat up for a nasty, evening surprise. Our plan to take Stage 2 up to the Türlwand right on the first day will be foiled by a suddenly developing thunderstorm. The foreboding and warning of the local Heinz Sieder, who accompanies us part of the way, will save us from certain ruin at the foot of the Dachstein south face and rush us via the state road to Filzmoos. But the Schladming MTB veteran will not be able to prevent a DNF from appearing after our names on the participant list of the Dachsteinrunde VR. Our schedule is too tight on the second day as well to make up for what we missed early the next morning.

So we sit down at one of the Ritzingerhütte’s tables, lovingly decorated with meadow flowers, and order what—almost magically—has drawn us up here despite the dwindling battery capacity: Steirer- and Stoderkrapfen.
The latter are what people commonly know as Bauernkrapfen, only fluffier, lighter and more digestible, which must be due either to the mountain air or to Marianne’s knack for dough consistency & co. The former consist of rye-flour flatbreads fried in hot fat and sprinkled with spicy Steirerkas and, if desired, sauerkraut.
"Love it or leave it" are the only possible approaches to the crumbly, actually very lean Mürbkäse typical of the Ennstal, which the EU recently elevated to a protected designation of origin (g.U.). Anyone who hears how the Ritzingerhütte’s dairywoman talks about her Steirerkas, which matures in the cellar for six weeks with daily turning, can’t help but choose love.
By the way: eating a Steirerkrapfen with cutlery is a no-go. Instead, you roll and fold it up like a wrap.

Started in Upper Austria and already hopelessly dilly‑dallying in Styria by mid‑morning, after a deeply impressive ride through the Öfen, a further charging‑and‑refuelling orgy in Aich and a hectic escape from the thunderstorm front, the Hanneshof in Filzmoos, Salzburg finally takes us in that evening.
The literal first house on the village square of a place that in the 1960s still consisted of only a handful of farmhouses and is essentially a tourist product of the early seventies, ranks — by Dachstein‑rounds standards — more among the greenhorns on the list of partner establishments. The Mayr family and their team, however, easily make up for any lack of pioneering credentials with wholehearted commitment and console us with superb food, lively waiter banter and an honorary schnapps for our virtual failure and the missed Dachstein highlight.

Far too early the next morning we have to get out of the beds in the four‑star house again. Groggy, we nibble from the specially provided early‑bird platter and slurp coffee. At least, thanks to the e‑bikes, our legs don't hurt.
Only the roll‑out on the toll road toward Hofalm along the Warme Mandling wakes us up. The Garmin thermometer reads ten degrees. What luck that the little stream beside us isn't the Kalte Mandling!

Speaking of beautiful: the view from the terrace of the Salzburger Dolomitenhof over the Bischofsmütze & co. is something else. Situated in Annaberg and thus at the start of the final third of the Dachsteinrunde, this 3-star hotel has likewise, since day one of the multi-day tour, made a name for itself as a reliable overnight recommendation.
So it's only natural that, even if we don't sleep and have breakfast there, we at least drop in for a chat with the Bergschobers. We find proprietor Georg out behind the house in the bike container. He's just installing six brand-new Bosch fast chargers there.

While chatting about old challenges (keyword: route permits) and new times (once again: e-bikes), that question that has been on our minds since we started in Upper Austria comes up again: Who actually invented the Dachsteinrunde?
"I'm a thousand percent sure that Martin (Huber, ed. note) was the first to say: 'We could do a nice circuit all the way around that'," Andrea Schenner, the innkeeper of the Agathawirt, had posited. "No, it wasn't me," the presumed originator had, however, vehemently protested. On the Styrian side Marianne Gruber had suspected former tourism chief Georg Pliem and the pull of the Alpentour were behind it. "Nah, certainly not," our short-term guide Heinz Sieder had objected.
And the Salzburg version? Georg Bergschober hesitates. "I don't know. The Upper Austrians already had a few individual tours, the Styrians the Alpentour. Our section from Ramsau to the Pass G'schütt was missing. And by talking about it, it all probably rather accidentally became one big whole."

This is a Solomonic verdict with which we are happy to set out, so we can finish our mission — regrettably short on evaluations, but by no means valueless for that reason.
The tourism officials in Goisern would later, after diligent research, indirectly confirm the version that it was a matter of chance: the then spa director, Siegfried Mittendorfer, says that the idea of circumnavigating the Dachstein by mountain bike had matured in conversations among colleagues and in talks with other tourism associations, and that it had no real inventor.

As suddenly as the thunderstorm arrived yesterday, equally fast severe storms are forecast for day 2 from the afternoon on. We therefore wisely skip the Hornspitz loop to head via the Pass Gschütt and Lake Gosau directly to the final climb to the Rossalm. At least one daily result we want to claim by regular means after the technical knockout on the Viehbergalm and the meteorological one at the Dachstein south face!
But it happened as it had to: one more extra photo here, running into an old acquaintance there, and wow, look what the drone’s panorama function can produce!
Between a farewell greeting to the Tennengebirge, a river run on the Lammer, the Kirchenwirt in Gosau and absolute kitsch alarm on the northern foot of the Dachstein massif with glacier, lake and highly dramatic rock formations, we fritter away so much time that only the red-blue Direttissima back to Lake Hallstatt remains.

And so we sit on the shore of this freely accessible natural gem until the dark rumble of thunder drives us home; fingers and toes in the ever-refreshing water, the Krippenstein — the northernmost, plateau-like spur of the Dachstein — once again off to the side ahead as at the start of our circuit.
By the letter of the participation rules we may have failed the Dachsteinrunde VR. But our internal credit ledgers signal complete success. Scenery? People? Passion? Three times over 100 percent. Sporting challenge: sufficient. Tiredness: total. It will take a while for all the impressions to settle.

For now we'll have to tell our experiences to one another in a circle. Andrea Schenner is hurrying in a run through the Agathawirt's beer garden to protect the seat cushions and place settings from the next downpour. There's no sign of Martin Huber, not even if he's a little late. And the Putz couple, of course, aren't here again today either.

But it doesn't matter. We had already asked Walter and Rosi the most important question at the outset. We had asked them — rather cautiously, given their ailing health and advancing age — whether they would still take on the renewal of the signage for the Dachstein loop due this autumn. "We hope so," came the answer like a shot. "After all, we spend so many pleasant hours doing it."

Fresh back from riding, chatting and enjoying ourselves, we can only too well understand that hope.