In which there are ducklings and a panorama punch (Austria part II).

The real adventure began the next day when we picked up a rental car and started driving towards the snow-capped peaks. It was warm and beautiful, the snow was white and shiny in the sun, and we took our time toodling towards Tyrol. Heading south, we took a detour in Werfen and followed signs to "the world's largest ice cave". (I do love me some caves.) The road there was very steep and wound tightly up a mountainside, giving spectacular views of the town and castle below, the latter perched up on its own little mountain.

Upon arriving at the commercial entrance to the cave, we learned that a visit there would be a bigger time commitment that we could afford that day, as it involved a bit of hiking, a cable car, a guided tour and appropriate clothing for freezing temperatures. We still had a long way to go before reaching our apartment, so picnicked in the sun and decided to tackle the ice cave on our way back to Salzburg.

The next detour was to the tourist town of Zell am See, which is known for its picturesque mountain reflections. Looked about like it did in the pictures, with the addition of fluffy little water fowl:

The scenery was simply magnificent, particularly winding through the Gerlos Pass.

Home sweet home for the next few days was an airbnb apartment perched on a mountainside above Zell am Ziller. Being Sunday, the supermarket was too closed to stock our kitchen, so we ate in the valley and took an evening walk around town. Each little town has a church, and this one was pink.

Our first day was spent as a warm-up and a wake-up call to get bodies in gear for future hikes -- a 20km walk down the valley and back along the river. Freund and I had both gotten new hiking boots, mine of which I'd been wearing to work for the previous week or so. That helped, but they still needed a bit of breaking in and this promenade was just the ticket. There was hardly any active elevation to speak of, except for the impressive background provided by the Zillertal.

As chance would have it, I'd found a hiking guide and trail map for the area we'd be in at a thrift store shortly after booking the trip. This turned out to be a golden purchase that enhanced the vacation to spectacular extents. After much time pouring over trail details, we selected our first big hike and breakfasted on the balcony amidst the marshmallow clouds. 

Picnic and other provisions packed, we headed south and then wound our way up the Tuxer Alps, eventually parking and continuing on foot towards the mysterious and elusive Eiskarsee -- a mountain lake tucked up in the top of the Tuxers.

It was with much giddy in my heart that I encountered the vastness of color explosion in the meadows, and thought of a wayfaring friend who had wished me many wildflowers for my journey. Down in the valley, most of the flowers had already peaked and were waving their fluff in the warm breeze. Up here it was cooler, and the blossoms were in their prime -- and boy did they know it. A real Pollocky springtime.

The path led up up up, partly paved, partly not, zigzagging steepness directed towards a lonely house or shed here and there. There was a small dairy farm in an upper valley that was not yet cowed for the summer, though it looked like preparations were underway.  

I kept looking up towards the snowy mountainsides above us, coming ever nearer, and wondering if we would find ourselves in snow anytime soon. Little streams, some just wee trickles, were riding gravity down the slopes from above, literally all over the place. And where'er they flowed, the flowers... growed.

We finally did hit snow level and the temperature dropped several degrees, though not enough to make me change into long pants. I rethought this decision later when I, too, rode gravity knee-deep into the soggy white stuff, but decided it was more refreshing than cold and, well, plowed on.

After several attempts to find the trail under a couple meters of snow on a very steep slope, we came to the conclusion that non-broken limbs were more important than finding the lake and that "almost" was quite satisfactory for the day. Almost made it to the summit, and almost lost my head in disbelief of the incredible panoramas all around, almost throughout the duration of the hike.

Another thing that amazed me was that we encountered almost no one during all the hours we were underway -- just a couple tractors doing tractor things at the beginning and three blurs of mountain bikers towards the end. Hard to believe that this was the "off season", though I guess the snow we encountered ought to have been a clue to that.

On the way home I had a worrying thought in that maybe this hike would be the best of the trip and all the other ones would be disappointing compared to its grandiose nature. 
"Hah", I say now with the comfortable knowledge of what was to come.

...Though we may have cooked one of the tastiest dinners that night -- power-fried gnocchi with veggies and a hearty splat of fried egg (...on the balcony with the evening settling on the valley).