Wimbachbrucke to Watzmannhaus

Although I do a fair amount of research before every trip, I occasionally skirt over inconvenient details. This was one such example: I presumed the walk-in to the Watzmannhaus was short and simple. It is actually (in theory) a four-hour walk up a 1400m vertical interval - which wasn't ideal after a rather intense few days. We were, however, pleased that we had been disciplined and severely limited the scope of this morning's climbing - and managed to reach the hut in a leisurely but sustained 2.5 hours. Wimbachbrucke is a busy focal point for lots of walks and mountain outings, but we were able to park because of the late hour. Long and sweaty zigzags, humidity building, led through deep forest to a clearance below the Stubenalm. The skies had darkened and thunder began to rumble around: time for coats and a snack. The hut was still well above us (it can be seen from the valley as it is spectacularly sited on the edge of a spur running down from the high peaks, overlooking the entire valley). It seemed that an unwelcome repeat of Saturday night's drenching was on the cards, not a prospect to be relished, although the trees seemed likely to shelter us from the worst of the storm. In the event, despite some heavy rain, the thunder and lightning stayed distant. Past the Mitterkaseralm, steep paths led to open mountainside and spectacular views to the pyramidal Kleiner Watzmann directly in front. The skyscape changed continually - with clouds shifting in and out and occasional rainbows below us in the valley. At one point, streamers of cloud blew over the ridge and were backlit by the sun. A few chamois and a probable black woodpecker (lower in the forest) also enlivened the slog upwards, which ended with a few wet zigzags and then a burst of glorious sunshine in bracing winds as we emerged two minutes below the hut - as I looked over the misty valley to the east my glory appeared in the valley below, a huge shadow ringed by a rainbow, the 5th or 6th time I have experienced this famous phenomenon. Above rose another range of peaks above the town of Berchtesgaden nestling in the valley way below. We retired to the large (but cosy and convivial) hut for a stormy night, westerly gusts battering the hut continually, refuelling on the excellent local helles brew, with dumplings, speck and kaiserschmarrn.