The Alpe Adria Trail: my journey approaches…

It’s been a long wait. Three years since I first decided to take it on. After false starts next Wednesday should see me finally start my walk of the Alpe Adria Trail.

So I thought I’d explain what it’s all about, dispel a few myths, try to explain why I’m doing it, and put in all in context.

First, what it’s not. This isn’t walking the Appalachian Trail or the Pacific Crest Trail. I’m not carrying all my own gear. I’m not camping. Most of all I’m not walking thousands of miles. The Appalachian Trail is 2190 miles, the Pacific Crest 2663 miles. By contrast the Alpe Adria Trail is around 420 miles. It’s more equivalent in distance to a modern day Camino, such as the Way of St James, or walking from London to Edinburgh. So still a long way, but nothing like some of the international epic routes.

I’m not forging my own route across wilderness, or clambering up precarious routes to summits. I’ll be following a route established about ten years ago jointly by the local tourist boards of Carinthia, Slovenia and Friuli Venezia Giulia.

So I get a nice hotel bed (almost) every night, and where I don’t, a relatively comfortable Austrian mountain hut. But the down side of this is a lot of up and down to reach the little mountain settlements in the valleys. And I mean a lot.

To put it in context, according to my guide book, over the course of the trek, I will climb over 27,000 metres, descending almost as much (the start is pretty high up). That’s equivalent to over three Mount Everests.

Several days exceed the climb to the summit of Ben Nevis (1345 metres), twelve days exceed climbing Snowdon (1085 metres). Mostly this on tracks and paths and shouldn’t be technically too difficult, but it sure will be tiring.

My baggage will be driven on to my next hotel stop each night (with three or four exceptions). So I won’t be carrying one of those big backpacker rucksacks, just an ordinary daysack.

The other challenge is I’ll largely be doing it on my own. Originally, friends and family were going to join me for about half the route, but it hasn’t worked out for people this year, and my caution about Austrian entry requirements, following two false starts, has led me to starting earlier in the summer than I’d originally intended. I’m used to doing day walks on my own, or short walking breaks and am comfortable in my own company and generally confident in my own abilities. But it will be a different challenge spending nearly 35 days on my own.

Modern technology will help. Wi-Fi and 4G should enable me to have frequent video calls with the family, a Garmin in-reach mini and gps should help me from getting too lost and enable me to call help in any emergency, and iPads, phones and ebooks should keep me entertained in the evenings.

I’m sure I will also meet and chat with some interesting people on the way. The impression I get is that the Alpe Adria Trail has yet to take off as a well known and popular challenge like the Appalachian or Caminos, but I still may meet some ‘thru-hikers’ and certainly others doing day walks or stretches of the trail. While I don’t speak any of the languages of the countries I’m passing through, English gets you a long way these days.

Doing a trek like this is bound to be an adventure. Seeing new sights, experiencing new places and people, walking further in one go than ever before are all exciting. Much as you can plan, luckily you never know what doing something like this is going to be like until you do it. The weather is one big uncertainty. Will it be too hot? Will I be caught on the mountains in a storm? I have to be prepared for most eventualities. Am I fit enough, can I avoid getting injured? That is always a concern, but I’ve prepared as much as I can, not least with having walked nearly 1000 miles already this year, including just completing the Two moors way, hiking in Cumbria and La Gomera earlier in the year. And you would not believe my medicine chest!

The route passes through three countries-one of the reasons undertaking it in 2020 or 2021, with the myriad of ever changing covid restrictions, didn’t work out. Alongside the changing scenery and climate, the cultural, historical and linguistic changes as I progress along the trail should also be interesting to observe.

Why am I doing it? Why do you do anything? I love the mountains, but I know my limitations. I’m not getting any younger, and I now have the time and resources to do it. My wife is very understanding and encouraging. We’ve even arranged that my trek will end on our 25th wedding anniversary when she is flying out to meet me. What could be nicer?

The fund raising for helping save the endangered pangolin is also going well. Having the support of family and friends, and knowing that you are helping in modest way to protect these poor creatures is an extra motivation. At the time of writing people have generously contributed £460 towards this cause, and it would be great if we could push this total even higher once I’ve started the trek. If you enjoy reading this blog, care about pangolins, or just want to give me some moral support, and haven’t already, please do contribute (the easiest way to do this while I am away is through my just giving page https://justgiving.com/fundraising/larry-honeysett. (if you’d rather not use this please do get in touch with me and we can find another way). I’m really grateful for everything people have given so far.

No photograph, certainly not mine, can hope to convey the grandeur and natural beauty of the mountains and I’m no Ansel Adams, but for those like me captivated by the mountains, these photos of the couple of parts of the trail I’ve previously walked before should give an inkling of why I’m embarking or this journey. I can’t wait.