E-Bike & Hike around Ischgl

So far, so good. Only the weather had initially vehemently resisted the predicted dream conditions and spoiled the early morning with persistent drizzle. But eventually, the last hex key was used in Patrick's well-equipped bike garage for alleged adjustment work, and the most conscientious suspension setup was completed. Without any remaining excuses, we set off from the strategically conveniently located Klaushof at the end of Ischgl on Rossbodenweg towards Mathon.

Ironbikers know this farm road running above the valley floor and the Trisanna in the opposite direction, where their course takes a bit of the "top round" variant, over the high trail.
We were familiar with the pleasantly flat option for rolling in from last year's tour to the Neue Heilbronner Hütte. And indeed, the recently admired purple flowers, lush meadows, and sharp church steeples did not take long to appear again.

As if the innovations were not enough, starting from the 2024 season, two challenging high-mountain trails will bring fresh air to the Silvretta Bike Arena, which will also carry the name "Samnaun" in its title. Those who conclude from this nominal extension that the new additions specifically traverse the border area to Switzerland are correct.
A hefty 1,330 meters of descent between the Flimjochbahn mountain station and the middle station of the Silvretta cable car are offered by the 16.3 kilometers long Vesil Trail. And with the same start but aiming for the Heidelberger Hut, the Fimba Trail (12.8 km), which also courageously leads uphill in sections, awaits. Both pass over the Greitspitze (2,872 m) as the highest point, and both are classified in the red difficulty range S2 to S3.
The overall counter advances to a proud 88.8 trail kilometers with these additions, which can be enjoyed across eleven lines of all difficulty levels. More trails are already planned for the summer of 2025.

Our Simplons were therefore not parked as luxuriously and securely as in the bike depot intended for this purpose at the Friedrichshafen Hut. This would save us a one and a half kilometer gravel track march on the way back.
As soon as the E-MTBs were parked and locked, real life caught up with us again: Just about 2,300 meters above sea level and soon steep inclines of 30, 40, even almost 50% – this brutally strains the flatland lungs and leg muscles, especially when a former paraglider, then XC racer, road bike marathon rider, and now tennis player sets the pace!

The High Heads initially showed no mercy. We had avoided the steepest part of its southern slope by staying on the path to Muttenjoch for the time being. But with the right turn onto Georg-Prasser-Weg (No. 515) at 2,435 meters, the grace period for getting used to the different movement was definitely over.
There are only 100 meters of elevation that grow somewhat steeply from this intersection; then the slope levels off into a stone basin that houses the aforementioned Brüllersee. But these 100 meters of elevation were tough, especially since the sun was now really heating up, the wind that was still quite noticeable on the forest road seemed to have settled, and the ground was not the most stable due to countless, coarse boulders, rolling stones, and slippery gravel.

Up here, surrounded by Glatter Berg, Vertinesberg, and Vertineskopf, the Verwall Mountains did not seem particularly charming. At first glance, they appeared to be merely a brittle accumulation of gneiss and slate, stacking up in endless, fine layers and a variety of sparkles.
But even this seemingly lifeless and colorless rock, upon closer inspection, had its lichens that grew on it in bright green, its grasses that sprouted from it, its flowers that found just enough soil in the crevices to serve as a source of nourishment.

A good place to talk about the tricks and quirks of windward and leeward, and to understand why it's bad to fly on the wrong side with a paraglider – and why it's advisable to switch sports afterward. A good place also for a genuine summit log entry and for a survey of where the paths here might lead in summer and winter. Just this much: the possibilities are nearly endless.
In the meantime, our stomachs make it quite clear to us that they do not want to live on high altitude air and summit love alone. So we prefer to quickly make our descent, rather than planning future tours, and then swiftly head to our rest stop.

Long-standing pilgrimage site on the culinary Way of St. James, the Friedrichshafen Hut has also earned a solid reputation as a mountain guesthouse with the finest cuisine, apart from this specialty conceived by Paznaun gourmet chefs. The fact that there is a wooden sun terrace at the front with simply stunning views of the Silvretta mountains and the Samnaun group jutting out, and a small bathing lake at the back enabling deluxe mountain wellness, makes it even better.
And the fact that there is a signed trail variant from the hut that directly cuts through the zigzag of the forest road downhill adds the icing on the cake – but only for technically skilled bikers. Everyone else will probably struggle with the tricky natural trail at S3 level.

With cheese dumpling soup, pulled pork, spicy mountain crepes, and of course Kaiserschmarrn, we try to provide our bodies with the necessary energy for the upcoming descent. Because, of course, we at least want to try the trail variant. And my flesh would be willing, but my spirit is weak.
Bike & Hike, my mind seems to automatically associate that with pleasure cycling, cruising along, racking up miles. The fact that I should now suddenly bump down narrow, rocky paths that are steep, curvy, and rooty after the first, simpler meters, doesn't quite get into my head, and consequently not into my movements either.

After two failed attempts, I give up and switch to the conveniently intersecting forest road. A cool side effect of this intertwined route: behind every bend, I can watch the guys doing tricks... and maybe even try it myself next time.
"Crunchy," is Patrick's verdict on the current trail condition. And that means something, because the man is not only a certified MTB instructor and bike park guide, but also a bona fide world champion, as: winner of the Masters 2 category at the E-Bike World Championships for everyone held in Ischgl since 2021 E-Bike-WM for Everyone.

Actually, our annual Ischgl report would be concluded with this. The Ironbike preparations and program points kept our photographer too busy to complete another tour. However, the foot soldiers still had time, and so we let NoSane toil alone the next day and rappelled down for a second bike-hiking combo tour.
The target was clear, at least when our contacts at the Ischgl – Paznaun tourism board had titled the suggestion as an "Insta-Hotspot". The editor in me secretly hoped in the Silvretta for a counterbalance to the almost surreal calm we had experienced in the Verwall – except during the cabin stop. The hobby photographer in Lukas wanted to know whether he would manage to capture the better image of the moment by bypassing or diving right into the crowds of influencers. Thus, we set off to Berglisee.

To get straight to the point: crowds: none. Instagrammers: also none.
Indeed, we met some bipeds and quadrupeds at the crystal-clear water at the base of a semi-circle of nearly three-thousanders – Berglerkopf, Blauer Kopf, Zirmli – near Mathon. Overall, however, they were indeed countable on two hands and engaged (with one exception) in rather sparse use of mobile phone cameras.
The picturesque Berglisee in the wildly romantic alpine area Innerbergli can be reached via – Ironbikers will nod knowingly again – the Lareintal and the same-named Alpe. Right there, after another approach over Mathon, this time however on the Trisanna southern bank, and a deeply relaxed 400-meter elevation climb, we parked our bikes in the bike depot.

For the muscular switch from pedaling to walking, there was at least a half, flat kilometer left. After crossing the Lareinbach stream with a view of the Fluchthorn Glacier, the eastern slope of this impressively untouched high valley - no internet, no mobile reception, no huts, just pure nature - presented itself even steeper.
The herbaceous ground cover on the treeless mountain flank made it clear: those who come just a bit earlier in the year wander through a sea of alpine roses and blueberries. Later, red-orange colored larches certainly form a magnificent backdrop. Currently, numerous flowers and herbs lined our path, of whose names or certainly manifold uses we botanical ignoramuses had no clue whatsoever.
Following the steep slope, the path became pleasantly undulating. Not for nothing were we on the Paznaun High Trail. Wonderfully gnarled, sky-old Swiss stone pines told of winds and weathers in the varied ups and downs, until finally after a good hour the idyllically nestled in humpy alpine soil, extensive scree slopes and rugged peaks, Berglisee was reached.

We recommend, by the way, taking the left turn after about two kilometers to Inner Bergli (and after another 500 m, turning right to the lake) and saving the roughly 500 meters shorter Direttissima for the way back. In this way, one approaches the turquoise jewel more gradually, more dramatically impressive: first little bridges and footpaths and even lovely flower meadows, then a quaint shepherd's hut with a drinking water fountain, sun benches, and a deeply grounding view into the Verwall, and finally the gurgling, bubbling waterways and basins, which are located north of the Berglisee and which - already in the sight of the stone semicircle that surrounds it - tune one fantastically into this power place of Mother Nature.

Tables, benches, and even barbecue spots on the adjoining meadow to the west would have allowed for a grand mountain picnic in truly remarkable scenery.
However, with the announced change in weather already pressing in from Montafon and Switzerland, we preferred to make our way down and satiate our hunger in the relative safety of the Larein Alpe, which, by the way, will also be part of the Culinary Paznaun in 2024 with Asian pork knuckle with Spätzle.

Could we have discovered and experienced all this by mountain bike, not just on foot? No way.
Has Ischgl managed once again, with these alpine duathlons, these mixes of relaxed ascents, impressive retreats, and recommendable places to stop, as well as, if desired, challenging descents, to surprise and convince us? Definitely.
Will we return in the hope of discovering another facet, another offering, with which we would not generally associate the winter ski hotspot, according to all circulating prejudices? Absolutely!